Zion – Saint George: 84 km

Saint George with Todd and Sherrie. What a couple of days we have. After the rain in Zion we arrive dirty and crummy. Mudd on our clothes, our chains squeaking and squealing, our tents packed soaking wet. We have some flats riding into town. And we leave a brewery and find my outside with yet another flat, we decide to actually allow Todd to pick us up with his truck.

We met Todd and Sherrie a couple of weeks ago in Jackson. They offered us a place to stay if we were ever in around. And now we are around. They deliver on their promise, they overdeliver I must say. Todd rides us to their big house, a bit outside of the town. We’re treated like we’ve been coming over for years. Marijn and I get separate (!) bedrooms, that their children must have once occupied. Shelly has prepared dinner. Their dog Reckon wiggles his tail under the table.

Todd used to be a surfer. The chill vibe of the prototypical surfer-boy never left him. He tells us he misses the sea every day now that he and Sherrie live out in the desert. Todd seems to not to have aged, but for the time on his body. His attitude is playful and almost adolescent. Sherrie is a go-getter, and at the same time incredibly sweet and caring. She just makes us feel at home right away. Like we can’t do anything wrong and we could stay forever.

The first day there Marijn and I just chill out. We can’t sleep in anymore because our bodies have taken on the natural clock of a cyclist. But waking up early is even better in a real bed, in an airconditioned room, without the sun burning us out of our little lightweight tents. Clean our bikes, do laundry, catch up on social media and write our blogs. All the things we need on a rest day. Sherrie takes us out for dinner at a local pizza place. Back at home Todd has a plan. Let’s go to the Grand Canyon tomorrow! We’re not that far away. Can we actually? The Grand Canyon is the only park that I hate we have to skip because of distance and time. And here we can just take the car there? “Oh no”, Todd says. “We’ll take the buggy and ride through the desert!”

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To beat the heat, we wake up at 5 in the morning and are in the buggy by 6. This will be an awesome day. Todd drives us with incredible speed and accuracy through a rocky and sandy no man’s land. Nobody’s out here, the sun slowly rises over the desert, we leave a trail us dust behind us. It takes a couple of hours and then we’re there; Grand Canyon. And we have it all to ourselves. This is not the park entrance, this is the desert. We walk up to the ridge and… well… it’s insane. The ridge we stand on drops down, and down and down and further down still. At its deepest point over 1.800 meters, at its widest 29 kilometers. It’s colossal. It stretches as far as the eye can see. A slight wind comes up from the canyon, the dew colours the rocks blue in the distance. The enormity of it all is mind-boggling. We sit on the edge in awe, taking in all of the canyon’s enormous grandeur.

It's hard to turn away and leave something so grandiose and overwhelmingly stunning. But we have some guns to shoot! This is America, where you ride a buggy into the desert at sunrise, see the most insane natural beauty, and then shoot a gun and have a beer. USA. Marijn and I are taking turns driving us back. We are excited like two little boys. We scream and shout, riding as fast as we dare through this vast desolated country. In the back seats Todd and Sherrie are laughing and enjoying our enthusiasm. Half way home we stop, set up a couple of cans and get the guns out.

I’ve never shot a gun before in my life. I’m scared of guns. I’m against guns. I think America’s gun rights are ridiculous. Yet, I’m having so much fun firing these things. The noise and recoil are astounding, even for the 9. mm handguns we’re using. I’m a little afraid, but once I get the hang of it, that leaves and joy replaces it. I don’t know what makes it fun, I’m surprised that it I actually find it fun. Maybe it’s the realisation of holding something so powerful and being able to operate it, maybe it’s the newness and the whole experience in this setting. But boy we have a blast. It’s the most uncompromisingly American day we’ve had since being here. We’re living a cliché, but one that feels just right. Is this what Americans when they talk about freedom? To make the day even more perfect, that night we sit in the Jacuzzi in the rain back in Saint George. Sherrie makes us ribs for dinner. USA.