It always reminds me of the things my grandfather would talk about-at least the things that always seemed to be on his mind whenever I would visit him in the Uintah Basin. I couldn’t help but overhear the conversation as famers talked about the weather, water, and machinery. Since I’m not a hunter, I’m not sure what they’d be after, but they seemed to be having a good time. I shared my breakfast with a couple of camo-clad travelers and two or three farmers in from their water turn. ![]() The only other people awake were the farmers and ranchers who gave me a friendly wave as I passed. ![]() The windmills were going full steam at the mouth of Spanish Fork Canyon and watching the darkness of the night succumb to the early morning was beautiful. The early morning was colder than I expected, but it was beautiful. It wasn’t long after that before I was well on my way to points south to explore the mountain pass from Torrey, UT to Escalante over what I’ve heard called the Devils Backbone (Utah Highway 12). With that in mind, and a need to decompress, I got up early, pointed the bike south, and started my adventure.Ībout 7:00 am I stopped in Fairview at the Home Plate, warmed up my fingers by wrapping them around a cup of hot chocolate, and had one of their delicious omelets. I’m staring down the barrel at this 24-hour rally coming up in June and have been concerned that I could actually do the miles and that my butt was “iron-butt” enough to complete the distance.
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