<p><p>It is so hard for us top get up in the morning...even after a recovery day. I believe it is because we constantly push ourselves the whole day everyday, and our bodies can't get enough rest!</p><br>
<p>We took out panniers off of or bikes and rode to the All-American diner to enjoy another omelette and lots of toast, potatoes, and coffee, (and ketchup), to prepare ourselves for our 5000 ft climb for the day.&#160; Biking without panniers is like swimming with a current while wearing flippers. Full (for a minute), we got our gear together and headed for the mountain. My stomach was fluttering with anticipation as to what this climb was going bring... The grades, the altitude, the small shoulders. it was a struggle for me before we set out to remind myself that there was nothing i could do about it, that we would make it, one pedal at a time, even if it was absurdly steep.&#160; I was more interested than concerned (perhaps naively) about the how the altitude would affect us.&#160; It had some pretty awful side effects in the Sierras, but since then we had done a lot of climbs up to the high 7000s and our bodies were given a chance to acclimate to the lower oxygen concentrations.&#160; All of this was going to help us with the climb ahead.</p></p>
<p>As we set forth, my anxieties, for the most part, disappeared. We saw the sign for 8% grade, (which honestly doesn't change the fact that it is a hill that we need to climb), and  a sign that told truckers to turn around if the lights are blinking.&#160; And then the hill began. It was gradual, but that is besides the point. it was beautiful. I wish i had a video camera. There was constantly something new in the scenery.. Trees lined the road and gave way to these grand mountains lined with rocks and wildlife. it was such a stark contrast to the desert, and honestly hard to believe that is where we came from. The shoulders were indeed small, and I definitely clenched my handlebars harder as a tractor trailer or touring bus passed by, as some drivers were more stingy with space than others. Besides that, I was running on adrenaline as we climbed for the first miles because of the, scenery. It was hot, and some parts were tough in the beginning , but i felt like i couldn't take enough in, and what my eyes could absorb was empowering.</p>
<p><p>There was a lot of construction going on, and at one point we were in the front of the line that was stopped in the one lane traffic. (They were getting ready to pave the road this week). There were about 15 cars behind us when we were able to pass through, and the ground was sandy and muddy and our tires would spin and we would go nowhere. When we finally got to the end of the lane, we stopped to let the cars behind us go as we were going only about 5 mph (we felt a little pressure for holding them up, although they were in AC and climbing the mountain in a car) When we started again, the people in the cars coming in the other direction either starred at us or waved with encouragement. One car rolled down their windows and cheered and clapped at us. It definitely brought smiles to our faces.&#160; At that point the climbing started to get steeper, the road cut through a canyon if rocky mountains, the road curving around the edges of the rock in some areas. Even with the noise fro approaching cars/trucks, the rushing of the water of the steam below was one of the few things you could hear, besides the birds.&#160; We were still low enough in altitude that you could still your use your auditory senses to help capture the surroundings without the sound of your breath being in the way.&#160; We stopped at a stream along the road that escaped from a mountain stream and wet our shirts to help keep us cool.&#160; Further up the road (10 miles)we stopped for a lunch of tuna, avocado, lemon, and, (don't be jealous), but Bush's baked beans, maple cured bacon style.&#160; Those may not have been the best idea we have had. At about12.5 miles, the road was significantly steeper, we were higher on the mountain, and our muscles started to fatigue more easily.&#160; It felt harder and harder to get enough air, not as if you are suffocating&#160; but like you are breathing harder with out much result, unless you stop and take nice deep breaths.&#160; Now, because we are breathing harder, there was also a tendency to taste the remnants of lunch, which is why i said that the beans were not one of our best ideas. The road went from one side of the mountain to the other, with hair pin turns connecting them. We looked down at points and see the road below you. We would go as far as we could and catch our breath. Water is a very essential tool when battling altitude sickness, or preventing it (trying to at least) so we stalk abundantly. It got to a point where the only thing i could hear was the depth of the many frequent breaths that  i took. Our muscles felt weak, moving an arm was taxing, so the itch or bug would have to wait until we stopped again. When we stopped, my heart was beating out of my chest as it was trying to distribute oxygen to the rest of my body, as it was taxed carrying myself, my.bike, and the extra 65 lbs miles up a hill in thinning air.</p>
<p><p>We were at about 9500ft when i started getting lightheaded between stops.&#160; It was a sort of mind out of body experience, like you are almost drunk, and when Lindsay started to experience the same thing,(and we heard thunder over head) we stopped in a pull off, took out her rain fly from her tent, sat down to see if we got reception, and took a much needed cat nap... On rocks. Our bodies were apparently exhausted from the lack of oxygen in the air, we just weren't used to it. We were both instantly asleep. It is remarkable as to how fast the body can adjust to such conditions. We woke up and enjoyed a delectable lunch of cold Spaghettios.&#160; I stuck with the can with meatballs, and i think.Lindsay was eyeing them from her can of spaghettios with hot dogs.&#160; And yes they were cold. The beauty about spaghettios or Chef Boyardee is that it is everything you need in a can, 18.g&#160; <br><br>
Of protein for example, and it is reasonably priced.&#160; If you don't think about it or you are hungry enough, it tastes pretty good. After food and a nap, we were <br>
ready to take on the mountain again (and the mountain was ready to take on  us)</p>
<p>We had thought that the storm cloud above us at the time of our nap had passed, but as we continued our climb at mile 16, the hail began.&#160; We took the rain fly and put it over our heads as we stood <br><br>
on the side of the road.&#160; Lindsay said, "these are ice balls, why do people call it hail? It is just balls of ice getting pelted at us." We thought the worst had passed, got back on our bikes and went about a tenth of a mile, and we found ourselves under the rain fly again top shield us from another round of ice balls.&#160; </p><br>
<p>The hail stopped, but the clouds still lingered and we felt like we had to be getting close. We found a pull off where we were informed that we were only at 9800 ft but the summit was not to far away. We got back on our bikes, and made it 2 miles before we were pelted with hail again. Now, the hail hurts, plain and simple, you can't see well, and it is mixed with cold rain. Couple that with the fact that we are 10,000 ft above sea level, the air is thin and cold, and our bodies became cold-- fast.&#160; The hail let up and we rode through the pouring, relentless rain in hopes that we could bike past the storm or find some sort of shelter.&#160; There was nothing for 2ish miles, and finally we found refuge in Cedar Breaks National Park.&#160; we walked toward the entry booth as we saw an overhang we could stand under. Two other visitors, a woman and her husband, smiled at us and congratulated us for making it up the mountain. They said they had seen us towards the bottom. At that point the ranger at the entry booth asked us how we were doing and i just said cold. he could tell by our shivering, anyway. He asked us where we were ultimately going, and we told him and gave him our card. The woman had been listening and she said she wanted one, too. She said she was seeing an oncologist and they don't know what is wrong with her.&#160; She finds solace nature and it helps her deal with what is going on, she said, so she and her husband takes trips s lot so she can surround herself in it.&#160; </p><br>
<p>After hearing what were doing, the ranger let us in to the visitor center, which was incredibly kind of him. We had no idea how beautiful the view we were about to see was going to be: a red canyon that had been weathered over the years with the elements.&#160; While we were in awe of the beauty before us, we forgot what we had just gone through in the last 6 miles, but knew that everything was worth it for those moments.&#160; I don't think my pictures did it justice. We were pretty proud of ourselves.</p>
<p><p>Unfortunately, the storms were surrounding the canyon, it was still sprinkling, and the black clouds were headed East. We had wanted to make it to Panguitch that evening, which was 35 miles away at the base of the hill. Panguitch lake was 17 miles away. It was 530, later than we expected it would be when we got to the summit, but we were significantly slowed down by the altitude and the hail.&#160; We knew needed to go somewhere to warm up but had no idea what to do or where to go. We realized that we had gotten to a point of no return. temperature wise. We took our bikes into the bathroom and put on warm layers and huddled under the air dryer.&#160; We we were shivering and everything was wet, including the tent.&#160; We decided that we should check out the campground down the road and see what they had, even if we could take a shower and get going. We were wavering between staying or trying to make it to the lake, risk being caught in the storm&#160; andd risk getting there in the dark.&#160; We realized that it was kind of a serious issue, and we decided to stay at the camp ground, partially because we were shivering so much.&#160; </p> the cold sore from the descent would not have worked in our favor, only against us. </p>
<p>we met the camp host, an incredibly nice lady who saw the state we were in. She gave us a couple of lawn chairs and let us sit in the big shower stall where it was warm and sheltered from the wind. We sat there in our sleeping bags and every layer we could. You have to remember that we were still at 10300 ft; the air was cold&#160; and we were very chilled, so we were grateful do her gesture.</p>
<p>A fellow camper was walking by as she was headed to brush her teeth.&#160; She was an incredibly sweet lady and wanted us to come sit with her and her husband in her van and she could put on the heat to warm us up.&#160; We didn't want to.impose and we also didn't want top leave or gear there, so we graciously declined. .she insisted that she would being us tea, and came back with tea (a selection there of) Stevia, and cookies.&#160; It was such a kind gift. She and her husband (formerly a park ranger) were traveling from Washington state, and were driving down to attend the Shakespeare festival in Cedar City, followed by a storytelling festival in another area of Utah, which she would be participating in. Her kindness is something that we won't forget, and definitely something we will "pay forward."</p>
<p>Soon after she left, the campground hostess bright us blankets and socks and said we were better off in the shower for the night than a tent. We agreed... So,that is where we stayed last night: A shower stall in lawn chairs. Lindsay eventually went on the floor. As awful as out sounds, it was exactly what we needed to do.&nbsp; Survive the night and move on the next day. You just focus on surviving for that period of time, and make the smartest possible decision given the circumstances. It was scary, but it was the best choice that we could have possibly made for ourselves.&nbsp; It would have been better than camping on the side of the road, or loosing more heat in another storm.&nbsp; We didn't sleep much, but we had a dry and warm(er) place to sleep; make the most of what you have.</p>
<p><p>Someone asked me today if we ever got into a tough spot and what we did when that happened. The reality is that that happens everyday. We have never experienced or have been familiarized with anything that we have come across: the weight on our bikes, not knowing where we will be at the end if the day, the heat, the desert, the climbs, the mountains, the multiple climbs in a day, loosing so much salt, the elevation,...not even the roads we travel on or the South west culture. After all, it is part of the adventure and it helps a whole lot to have some one amazing to share it with and to be able pick each other up.  The way we get through it is just to do it. That is really all you can do, because we really have no other option. You acknowledge the challenge and you do it. You learn, adjust, and then face the next one.  </p>
<p>Photo 1: the beginning of the rockies<br>
Photo 2: construction<br>
Photo 3: the canyon before the real climb<br>
Photo 4: Lindsay in the small stream<br>
Photo 5: part of the top<br>
Photo 6: our nap and lunch spot<br>
Photo 7 and 8: 9800 feet<br>
Photo 9: Lindsay's tantrum ;)<br>
Photo 10 and 11: the red canyon<br>
Photo 12:.elevation.sign at the visitor center
Photo 13, storm to the East (towards Panguitch) from the camp.ground
The rest: the shower stall
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