I find myself standing outside the corral... no, not the OK Corral... actually it's the
Las Vegas Cyclery
, just outside of Henderson, Nevada, it's about noon and the sun is beaming down on my bare scalp and square shoulders. Now, I understand why it's referred to as 'high-noon.' I am weary from travel and today will wind up being a full three hours longer then my average day! But, that is what I get for living in a country that is four hours wide.
I stroll inside, already geared up to ride and I am warmly greeted by the gentleman/dude behind the counter. He pulls down the Cannondale R500 that I had reserved from its cozy perch high above near the ceiling. He then places it up on the work stand to check it over and make a couple of tweaks. After the tweaking, he straps on a seatpack stuffed with a tube, tire levers and a patch kit. Then he affixes on a shorty pump and merrily sends me on my way.
I am heading Northeast with Red Rocks Canyon as my destination. The grade is the most steady one I have ever ridden, yet the elevation is increasing. There is a constant shallow rise from Henderson along Charleston Blvd all the way to Red Rocks Canyon. The elevation in Henderson is approximately 2000 feet, while the highest point within Red Rocks is about 4700 feet. Another cyclist pulls out of a side road and rides up next to me. After asking me where I am heading he states, "You've got a good pace, you'll pay for it now but, it's worth it for the ride home!"
We parted ways and I continued into the desert. From the Cyclery I pedaled through suburbs, on into an industrial area where new suburbs are sprouting from the desert sands. Beyond that last outpost of urban sprawl, I was in complete solitude. Totally alone, able to become a part of the scenic backdrop of red sand and yucca smattered mountains. Soon, even the yucca became sparse and as I traveled on the heat bore on as well, reaching its afternoon high. As long as I am moving, the air feels oddly cool and comfortable. My perspiration evaporates instantly into the desiccated desert air before it can even dampen my skin.
The park entrance looms just a few meters off yet, I can't see the Canyon, it is hidden away like a rare gem in a trunk aboard a galleon submerged beneath an ocean of sand and rock, misplaced like myself in the world of the horned toads and desert mice. After pulling off into the park as I round a bend or two I am immediately welcomed by the fiery red sandstone mountains that form the aptly named, "Red Rocks," Canyon. Last year's wild fires have marred the landscape's limited vegetation but, as it has for thousands of years, the mountains have remained virtually unchanged. The minor erosion of the wind and the infrequent rains are the only agents of change here.
With the red stone in the background and the scorched earth and yucca, the canyon becomes a martian landscape, instantly transporting me from the desert through space 35 million miles away...
Back on Earth, the road loops through the park one way through thirteen beautiful yet vividly other worldly miles. Vehicular traffic is minimal. The roadway carries me through the park, mostly climbing for the first 6-8 miles. Yet, because it curves so sharply, most of the time you can't see more than a hundred yards of road ahead of you. It's a treat that the asphalt is hidden from view, leaving the scenery unblemished, good planning on the part of the people who designed the road. After the 7th mile I reached the highest point (on-road) in the park at around 4700 feet.
The last six miles are a constant 30-50mph downhill "whirr." Passing all the speed restricted cars, I fly past banded multi-color mountains and skeletal cacti. Finally, I end my journey slipping into a parking "corral" to take a siesta in the cooling late afternoon breeze and observe the mountain overlook...
I find myself standing outside the corral... no, not the OK Corral... actually it's the
Las Vegas Cyclery
, just outside of Henderson, Nevada, it's about noon and the sun is beaming down on my bare scalp and square shoulders. Now, I understand why it's referred to as 'high-noon.' I am weary from travel and today will wind up being a full three hours longer then my average day! But, that is what I get for living in a country that is four hours wide.
I stroll inside, already geared up to ride and I am warmly greeted by the gentleman/dude behind the counter. He pulls down the Cannondale R500 that I had reserved from its cozy perch high above near the ceiling. He then places it up on the work stand to check it over and make a couple of tweaks. After the tweaking, he straps on a seatpack stuffed with a tube, tire levers and a patch kit. Then he affixes on a shorty pump and merrily sends me on my way.
I am heading Northeast with Red Rocks Canyon as my destination. The grade is the most steady one I have ever ridden, yet the elevation is increasing. There is a constant shallow rise from Henderson along Charleston Blvd all the way to Red Rocks Canyon. The elevation in Henderson is approximately 2000 feet, while the highest point within Red Rocks is about 4700 feet. Another cyclist pulls out of a side road and rides up next to me. After asking me where I am heading he states, "You've got a good pace, you'll pay for it now but, it's worth it for the ride home!"
We parted ways and I continued into the desert. From the Cyclery I pedaled through suburbs, on into an industrial area where new suburbs are sprouting from the desert sands. Beyond that last outpost of urban sprawl, I was in complete solitude. Totally alone, able to become a part of the scenic backdrop of red sand and yucca smattered mountains. Soon, even the yucca became sparse and as I traveled on the heat bore on as well, reaching its afternoon high. As long as I am moving, the air feels oddly cool and comfortable. My perspiration evaporates instantly into the desiccated desert air before it can even dampen my skin.
The park entrance looms just a few meters off yet, I can't see the Canyon, it is hidden away like a rare gem in a trunk aboard a galleon submerged beneath an ocean of sand and rock, misplaced like myself in the world of the horned toads and desert mice. After pulling off into the park as I round a bend or two I am immediately welcomed by the fiery red sandstone mountains that form the aptly named, "Red Rocks," Canyon. Last year's wild fires have marred the landscape's limited vegetation but, as it has for thousands of years, the mountains have remained virtually unchanged. The minor erosion of the wind and the infrequent rains are the only agents of change here.
With the red stone in the background and the scorched earth and yucca, the canyon becomes a martian landscape, instantly transporting me from the desert through space 35 million miles away...
Back on Earth, the road loops through the park one way through thirteen beautiful yet vividly other worldly miles. Vehicular traffic is minimal. The roadway carries me through the park, mostly climbing for the first 6-8 miles. Yet, because it curves so sharply, most of the time you can't see more than a hundred yards of road ahead of you. It's a treat that the asphalt is hidden from view, leaving the scenery unblemished, good planning on the part of the people who designed the road. After the 7th mile I reached the highest point (on-road) in the park at around 4700 feet.
The last six miles are a constant 30-50mph downhill "whirr." Passing all the speed restricted cars, I fly past banded multi-color mountains and skeletal cacti. Finally, I end my journey slipping into a parking "corral" to take a siesta in the cooling late afternoon breeze and observe the mountain overlook...
