DAY 29: AMERICA'S MASTERPIECE

120 km (74 miles) - total: 4117 km (2558 miles)

Blanding, Ut to Monument Valley, Ut

I knew that today was going to be the day when I would stop in the middle of the red-rock desert and say "My God, I cycled all the way across the US for this!"
I hardly slept last night as I was so excited. Yesterday, for the very first time during my trip, the motel I tried to check-in in denied my request to have my bicycle in the room, so I tried my luck elsewhere and I lodged at a very comfortable Super8. After stretching and a quick breakfast, I was on the road at 7.45 and I immediately passed the 4000km mark. I flew through the miles from Blanding to Bluff, then Mexican Hat and finally the Monument Valley. I cycled south on highway 191 and then on 163. The ride was incredible and the MV is spectacular. It should be on anyone's the-5/10/50/100-things-to-do-before-you-die list. There is no end to aesthetic discovery in this land.

I am not capable to describe the complete pleasure and ectasy when riding this state. The silent Utah roads snake through incomprehensible geological formations and afford a unique and romantic scenery in which one cannot but thank God for being alive. My gaze was glued to the rocks all around me, the narrowing canyons and the mind-blowing colors. I think I rode with a smile on my face the whole morning. This is why I came. This rush of adrenaline, this being fully awake that makes me think that probably too much oxygen is flowing into my body, this is what I live for. The rest is mere preparation. It all comes down to a few moments. Happiness is condensed into an array of fleeting, untidy moments. And this is one of 'em.

At 10.45am, a few miles before I reached Mexican Hat, I climbed a steep hill and a whole valley stretched before my eyes and at the very end of it I could make out the flickering silouhette of the big solitary monoliths. I cycled faster, almost in a frantic state. I felt incredibly fresh, like I had just started my trip. Riding towards the MV erased those 4000km from my legs and breathed new life into me. I did not stop, I did not even drink. It took me almost 3 hours to get to them. The wide open landscape and lack of any form of visual reference makes judging distances a very deceptive process. At about 1.30 I was right by the stately buttes and mesas of Monument Valley. The towers rise hundreds of feet from the plateau and stand like majestic pyramids on the desert floor. Their shape and deep red color define the landscape of the classic American West. It is an awe inspiring view that seems to defy time and space. The towers stand sentinel in the middle of the desert standing strong against the wind, the sun and all the elements. This spectacular desert scenery of this remote location has become the definition of the Wild West. And yet, there is much more to it, there is something magnetic, a lure that I cannot comprehend, it is not just the buttes or the valley, it is the smell of the warm air, the reflections of the sunshine on the dry bushes and the red sand, the long road that twists and turns, the unbearable heat that melts the horizon, the desolation of the desert, the overwhelming vastness of the open spaces, the tantalizing intimation of all the mystical qualities of this strange land, it is the myth of a place that contains so much cultural and natural history that seem to belong to a different era.

What is it that has drawn me all the way here in the middle of a searing desert? Why did I come here? Why do people come here? To enjoy the view? To take pictures? To learn? To celebrate anniversaries? There is no breeze, there is no sound, and there is no right answer. There are just a lot of good questions I suppose. And I don't need answers. I look around and there is a big group of tourists grappling with a limitless number of angles from where to take the best pictures. I run into tourists for the very first time on this trip. I feel an outsider, I belong on my bicycle on the road and I can't fit in here. I am also a tourist but the road has done something to me. I carry only a pair of pants, socks, t-shirt and whatever essential I can carry on my back. For 30 days I have washed what I wear unrelentlessly, as if by getting rid of sweat and dust I could wash away the memory of the previous day. The road corrupts. I knew it. It is the sweat that has been dripping into my eyes for the past 29 days on the roads of America that has changed me. I lost my balance or maybe I have acquired a new one. It takes a lot to lose balance, it takes a lot of balls I think...to be a new man. The only balance I know is the balance to ride my bicycle. Becasue I am cycling, I am running away. All the rest is constantly shifting. There are no boundaries anymore...to anything. I think one of the reasons I am here it is because I respect this land, I come merely with respect and reverence for the land. The simple fact that I am here is a reward for my long journey. I am humbled by the beauty of this land. And maybe a little terrified. The desert lies open before me, its soul lies bare. The desert is raw, naked, exposed. The land lies uncovered. Is it a land of secrets? The silence of this land exudes secrecy. But no secrets can be hidden by an open land, right? I will remember cycling in the desert, alone, in total silence for the rest of my life. I will remember how the cool early morning air quickly turns into arid heat and how the color of the sand changes accordingly. I will remember all the times I stopped by the side of the road to sip water from my water bottle and all I could hear was my heavy breathing and the wind. And I will remember my long shadow reflected on the paved road and my sweaty arms holding my bicycle straight and my legs tight ready for another push.

Looking at the Monument Valley I am thinking I am almost done cycling. And what now? The sun reaches toward the horizon as dusk beckons. Shadows lengthen. Colors amplify. Liquid shadows flow together into concealing darkness. I take more pictures of the timeless sandstone monoliths that stand guard unafraid, proud, almost haughty in the valley. I cannot believe what nature has done. Centuries of weathering has given the sandstone monolith a distinctive profile. Tapering from the top, heavy erosion gives the monolith the appearance of a giant stone, isolated, lonely and yet so reassuring. The info given to me reveals that layers of sandstone, siltstone and shale were deposited here in ancient times and were buried for millennia until, like the rest of the Utah and Colorado Plateau, it was uplifted and folded. Eroded by wind and rain, soft red shale undermines the stronger, vertically-jointed sandstone, producing the many buttes and pinnacles. It is a fascinating story.

I am waiting for the stars to come out. They too will play with my imagination. The world slowly fades before my eyes. Up above, a blanket of stars intensifies and reveals the power and the beauty of a starry night in the desert. The sky is not quite black, it is steel blue, it is dark violet and other colors I don't even have names for. I find myself in southeastern Utah, near the border of Arizona, standing on top of a mesa looking at the distinctive silhouette of the red rocks against the dark sky. I am in Navajo land, an area that is of sacred significance to the Navajo, the Dine (People), they used to be an empire and now they are reduced to a colorful backdrop to a John Wayne picture and...and to all of our pictures. I sit in silence to contemplate the view and I look at the tires of my bicycle and they are worn out, smoothed down by the miles. Maybe I feel satisfied, maybe the extent of my achievement is dawning upon me, maybe I don't feel fresh anymore, maybe I am aware that I have 4000 km and 30 days of cycling in my legs, maybe I am 170 miles away from my finishing line and from a new beginning. I will make this one count. I will.




4000 km!!


Early morning on Highway 191, perfect conditions and I am flying at 37 kph!


Just me and the bicycle on the Utah highway


Highway 191 entering a canyon


The "twins"


10:48 am, I come off a steep hill, wipe the sweat off my eyes and this is what I see: the very first sighting of the MV


"Mexican Hat" , the sombrero-shaped rock formation


The Valley of the Gods


The classic view!


MV butte


I made it! 4100 km from DC to this on my bicycle!


No caption needed for these next pics