By John Woodbury

Anchorage mountain biker Angel Boga takes in the vista at Anxiety Point. At 6,800 feet, Anxiety Point marks the high point of the Porcupine Rim trail.

The Moab desert sent out a welcoming committee in the form of dashing lizards, zipping across hot sand inches away from my fat front tire. Swerving sharply in the deep, red sand, I augured in and got a lizard’s eye view of the world-famous Porcupine Rim trail.

Riding partner Angel Boga negotiated past the sand bog and frenetic reptiles and came to a much more graceful stop. The warm sand heated up my underbelly as I lay prone on the gritty and natural heating pad. Maybe, I thought, the lizards are on to something.

Then again, they’d be hard-pressed to straddle a full-suspension mountain bike and race across 14 miles of startlingly beautiful Utah desert. Dusting myself off and clipping back into my pedals, I decided not to envy the lizards. Instead, I patted one on the head, adjusted my sunglasses against the glaring mid-day sun and took off down the trail after Angel.

With a four-mile uphill at the start of the Porcupine Rim trail that gains 900 vertical feet, bikers are plenty warmed up once they reach Anxiety Point, a 6,800-foot plateau that overlooks a multitude of mesas and valleys. Once cresting Anxiety Point, bikers are treated to a 3,000-foot, 10-mile downhill rollercoaster ride. Blasting across ridge tops, struggling through red sandpit traps and threading through boulders and cliff zones, the Rim trail descends to the Colorado River and Highway 128. A quick six miles on a narrow road shoulder brings you back to downtown Moab.

A maze of trails starts near Moab, with a full spectrum of terrain to challenge beginner and expert rider alike. For those comfortable on technical terrain, check out the Porcupine Rim trail, the Slickrock trail and the Poison Spider Mesa trail, which includes a difficult and exposed spur down the Portal trail. Portions of these routes parallel cliffs, and minor mistakes are magnified when dehydration, fatigue and treacherous terrain are factored into a ride.

Easier trails abound around Moab. Being neophytes to desert riding, Angel and I opted for the Slickrock Trail practice loop during our first evening with our bikes. From the 1.7-mile loop, we gained confidence in our physical ability and endurance in the heat and at 5,000 feet. We also discovered that our tires clung mightily to the slickrock, which enabled us to climb as steep as our legs would allow. Descents, while steep and unnerving, were negotiable thanks to quality equipment and an innate desire to keep our speed in check.

We further bolstered our confidence and photo albums by riding along the beginner-friendly 13.7-mile Gemini Bridges trail. Essentially a four-wheel-drive road, Gemini Bridges trail lets bikers take in the desert air while riding along a relatively unthreatening route. Mostly an extended downhill coast, with the exception of one uphill grunt lasting less than a mile, the trail has spurs leading off to natural arches and other unique rock formations. The spurs are well worth the extra time in the saddle.
Moab has long been considered a Mecca for mountain biking enthusiasts, and for good reason. Situated in the heart of canyonland, the quaint but bustling town is bisected by US-191 and shouldered into a valley by towering mesas.

First populated centuries ago by ancient indigenous gather tribes, Moab was later settled in 1855 by Mormons and earned its mark on the map during the uranium boom of the 1950’s. Its primary industry today is tourism, and recreational adventurers and retirees are discovering the allure of this desert burg.

Easy access to this unique terrain and breath-taking vistas inspire Moab biking veterans to return year after year.
For Angel and myself, this was our first trip. Recommendations by friends, who all but demanded we go there despite temperatures above 100 degrees Fahrenheit, convinced us to make the pilgrimage in our rental SUV. Cranking up the air conditioning and pointing our comfortable buggy southeast from Salt Lake City, we drove the 235 miles with our faces nearly pinned against the windshield. Darkening skies ushered in rain, thunder and lightening, and us displaced Alaskans found ourselves in awe over the brilliant but alien flashes and loud rumbling.

While we missed much of the scenery driving through the night, we did not feel cheated. In fact, at the crossroads of US-191 and I-70, we debated heading west in an effort to chase down the spectacular storm. The tug of biking the legendary trails of Moab was too much to overcome, however, and we rolled onto the Moab strip well past 2 a.m.

Camping, either by car or tent, is not a problem in Moab. With the second and fourth most favorite national parks in the U.S., according to a 1997 Consumer Reports survey, those who dislike civilized digs can find plenty of sites to pitch a tent. Arches National Park, America’s No. 2 favorite, is a mere five miles away from Moab, while Canyonlands National Park, the nation’s No. 4 darling, is a scenic 36 miles north. A host of other camping and recreation areas surround Moab in every direction, and overnight camping rates are more than reasonable.

Hotels, motels and bed-and-breakfast establishments pepper Moab, and rates and accommodations vary. A little comparative shopping will save dollars, and luxury items such as pools and hot tubs up the cost. My advice is splurge for the pool, especially if you go in the hot months of June through August.

The average high during the summer months can exceed 96 degrees, while the average low hovers around 60. Most Moab veterans make the trek during the more temperate spring and fall seasons, when the sun is much more kind to those caught past noon in the unforgiving desert sun.

Naturally, we showed up during a record stretch of days over 100 degrees. Fighting our much-ingrained habit of sleeping late, we forced ourselves onto our bike saddles by 7 a.m. each morning in an effort to beat the heat. If the scenery wasn’t so powerful, we would’ve succeeded with our plan. However, we were content to endure mild sunburn if it meant taking in more of the desert visuals.

So powerful were the vistas that we frequently stopped to click photograph after photograph, then sit quietly to absorb the desert beauty. The silence was interrupted only when we protested as scurrying varmints pilfered our CamelBaks for energy bars.

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