The next morning we were awoken by the groundskeeper of the park telling us to leave, since he needed to water after the previous week's rock climbing event had slammed the park with tents from the 3000 or so attendees. We talked a while before we headed out for Sinks Canyon and the switchbacks Dave and others had told us of.
Sinks Canyon came soon, stunning with its high cliffs. We worked up the switchbacks and into the forest, the road turning to dirt and winding up the mountains. It was a beautiful ride, free of cars and peaceful. At one point, we passed a pickup truck parked on the roadside filled high with big logs. As we passed I glanced to my right up the hill, only to see a huge cut log about 24" in diameter and about 3' long tumbling down the hill straight at me, the cutter staring at me. I hit the throttle and the log missed me by about 3 feet. Sheesh what a wake-up call in the middle of nowhere. Man it was close.
We passed several lakes looking for a place to eat lunch, finally spotting a small one covered with lily pads. I was surprised to see all the pads, as it was a first for me to see them up high in elevation.
There was a nice flat rock in the edge of the water that made the perfect lunch spot for our tortillas, chicken and avocado. The wind in the pines made us sleepy, but the hot sun playing hide and seek in the clouds made the temps just a bit too hot to nap.
Yummay!
We geared up and headed for Atlantic City, one of the historic mine towns ahead. After passing through South Pass City we motored the few miles over to Atlantic City and after a few hours in the heat were ready for a break.
The heat sapped any desire to wander around the little town of South Pass City, our bikes idling past the few buildings and back up the road past the mine which appeared to be in operation.
A couple of miles up the road lay Atlantic City, the road snaking through the shimmering heat and smell of sagebrush. Kim rode ahead, enjoying the scenery and openness of the landscape.
The Mercantile was our stop, an old historic bar and store. It was cool and dark inside and after downing gatorade and an orange dream sickle soda we talked with the waitress Connie.
Connie was quite a character and suggested a brownie sundae as a treat. We weren't really hungry but it went down very well. I asked to shoot a pic of her for the blog and she happily agreed, pointing out her boyfriend and her stepson at the table nearby and telling us he was Nez Perce Indian.
Connie our waitress - quite a character
After taking the photo, Connie said she could see a bad storm coming out through a window behind us and said we needed to hit the road quickly. We paid and headed for the bikes, a big black cloud covering the sky. I could see huge clouds of dust on the hillsides to the west being blown by the wind blast coming directly toward us.
Just as we started the bikes the first winds hit, blowing up a dust cloud and showering us with grit. We headed for Hwy 28 as quickly as we could down the dirt road, for some reason an endless parade of cars coming to us and showering us in grit and dust in the winds. When we finally reached the blacktop and gunned it for Lander, 20 something miles away, the storm was looming very close, and to our left we could see lightning flashes and a cloud of rain. It appeared we would be able to outrun the storm and make camp, but as we got to the top of Red Canyon a large semi dump truck was slowing in the downhill just as we entered a construction zone. Unable to get around him we were stuck at the top of the canyon as a road crew flagman waved us to a stop.
Just as our feet touched the ground, a huge wind hit us broadside and it was everything I could do to keep the bike up. Kim was desperately trying to hold her bike up as well and I was able to roll next to her to try and block some of the gale force winds. It didn't help much. I could barely keep the GSA up, but was able to hold onto her side case with my right hand to try and help her. The wind increased so much, the flagman was no longer able stand, his hard hat long gone and the plastic "Slow/Stop" sign he tried to hold onto bending almost in half, whipping so hard he had to drop it. He could barely stay standing and his co-worker who’d struggled out of the truck nearby to try and help him with the stop sign, gave up as it was a lost cause.
Kim and I were in our own struggle, the incessant wind so strong we couldn't even consider trying to get off the bikes. I could hear the fear in her voice over the headset, asking me what to do. I calmed her as best I could and told her to follow my lead. I rolled forward a few inches at a time with the engine off, holding onto her case with my right hand to help keep her bike up and using the clutch to control the forward movement. She mirrored me, until we were able to get beside the lone car ahead of us to add some wind break, however it didn't really help. I was cursing the truck that had made us stop at the top of the canyon as I watched the rain and lightning approaching, really concerned at our predicament. The winds were so intense we couldn't even consider trying to get off the bikes as we’d be blown over.
On the roadside a few yards ahead there was a construction light generator, so I told Kim to continue our forward motion a few inches at a time until we got near, then I got my bike against hers sort of interlocking the bars and told her to slide off between. She did, but was afraid of being trapped between them if I fell over, but she finally was able to squeeze under the bars and get to the right side of her bike. I slid forward enough until her side case slipped off mine and somewhat leaned and locked together with my bike. I told her to keep her body weight against her bike and I was able to lean over and get my kickstand down, the weight of both bikes allowing me to slip off of mine.
My plan was to get her bike to the generator for some wind block and then follow. She used her bodyweight leaned at an angle against my bike to keep it from being blown over while I did the same with hers, rolling the smaller bike down behind the generator. Ultimately I had to tie her bike to use a tie down strap and tie her bike against the generator to keep it upright. We exchanged places and she was able to huddle behind the generator while I leaned against the big GSA, being pushed by the wind blasts. I gave up on trying to get my bike down behind the generator and just stood with it, holding it up and trying to wait out the wind.
We were very fortunate to only get sprinkled with big drops of rain, the lightning and downpours having turned down the valley towards Lander and just missing us.
It was a good thirty minutes or more of the strongest winds I've been in, before I could see some light at the backside of the storm cloud, giving hope that a reprieve was coming. As it slowly subsided a bit, a false lull would tempt me to step away from the bike, only to suddenly be hit again.
Too bad a photo can’t capture an image of the wind!
As the rain moved further down the canyon, the wind finally lessened to the point we decided to try again. The flag man saw us untying her bike and ran down, telling me to wait about another 15 minutes. He said that the storm was still intense about 4 miles down and the workers there had radioed him that it was very dangerous. We got our gear and bikes ready as the wind calmed and finally he waved us a thumbs up and we motored on down into the canyon.
That was a very long 45 minutes, feeling like hours actually, in winds that I've not experienced for such a sustained time. Having had to stop at the very top of the canyon left us in the worst spot unfortunately, but there was nothing to be done but hang in there.
As the blue sky appeared in patches here and there on the way to Lander, the smell of fresh rain and puddles on the road were the only signs of anything having happened, the black cloud to our right slowly disappearing over the horizon.
We stopped at a convenience store to get ice for the cooler and the girl behind the counter told us we'd been lucky to have just come in, as a major storm had blown through shortly before. I told her we were stopped and sitting in it outside of town. She said there had been reports of 86 mph wind gusts in the town and said "It's a good thing you guys weren't caught in Red Canyon, that's about the worst place for winds. Our family lost a travel trailer at the top curve a few years ago when the winds took it off and they were only about 35 mph. My dad owns a wrecker service and I've gotten to see a lot of the things he drags back after these storms."
I didn't bother telling her that we were sitting right in the top curve of Red Canyon, but it made damn good sense why we were having such trouble.
When we arrived back at the city park, our camp neighbors came over to tell us excitedly about the storm we had missed and the 40-50 mph winds and rain that came through the park. The willow tree limbs littering the camp area were testimony. Ron, a hiker from NJ who was camped nearby, said he was amazed our big tent stayed up and was one of the few that didn't get messed up with the winds. I was amazed as well, as the Kingdom tent is massive but stood it’s ground. In fact it was only one of three still standing with many smaller tents flattened. The entire camping area of the park had tents down everywhere.
We finished the evening in our chairs with a hot meal of Chipotle Cheesy Shells, cooked with CoffeeMate powdered creamer and some French Vanilla coffee creamer since we had no milk for the recipe.
The heat of the day's riding, combined with the stress and fatigue of the wind experience brought Mr. Sandman quickly...