First-World Fiascos

As a matter of clarification – or perhaps confusion – I just want to say that I really don’t know the name of last night’s wrong/right campground. Google shows the reservoir as “Devil Creek Reservoir”. The big sign at the entrance to the campground similarly reads, “Devil Creek RV Park”. However, the registration receipt for said campground reads, “Devils Creek RV Park”. The ACTUAL name remains a mystery.

Regardless of the name, I woke up around 3:00 AM to a howling wind. Admittedly, I was pretty groggy and there’s a chance I was dreaming said wind as it was something that was VERY much on my mind when I went to bed. The forecast was calling for winds from the south gusting into the mid-40 km/h range. And they were to start early in the day. In response, I hoped to get started even earlier in the day even though I suspected it might be in vain.

When I woke again at 5:30 AM, the wind didn’t seem excessively strong but my tent fly was definitely moving – not that it takes that much force to move a tent fly. It was upon getting out of my tent and started on the packing up process when I noticed the wind was at my back – as I faced south. I actually looked around to see if anyone else was around that could confirm what I was observing. Given the early hour, I was the only one. I could only assume I wasn’t imagining this unforeseen tailwind and I sped up the packing up process.

The speeding up of my frequently sluggish morning routine had me ready to roll by 6:30 AM. Pretty impressive if I do say so myself. A few photos later and a stop to use the facilities, I was officially on the road just before 6:40 AM. Technically the sun had risen but it would be another hour before it would fully clear the mountains and start warming the day. That’s not to say it was a chilly morning. I’m just saying I was on the road early!

Once again, today was to be another somewhat short ride as I continued to pace myself for a Monday arrival in Salt Lake City. As such, my goal for today was Crystal Hot Springs RV Park and Campground – about 80 km to the south. However, the short ride wouldn’t preclude me from having another multiple milestone moment on the road. And it happened shortly after 8:00 AM.

It was at that time that I kind of wished I was on back on the interstate. Not being on the interstate didn’t affect the actual happening of the moment but the photo opportunities associated with said moment weren’t quite the same. Either way, shortly after 8:00 AM and about 22 miles into my ride I officially said goodbye to Idaho and hello to Utah (i.e., state #13 of the tour). The 22 miles is important because they officially put me over the 3,000 mile threshold for this tour (that’s a little over 4,800 km). Anyway, the only reason I would’ve liked to be on the interstate at that moment was that the “Welcome to Utah” sign was significantly more official looking than the one alongside the frontage road. Oh well. I can’t say that came as much of surprise. On the upside, I was able to see the “good” sign along the interstate … it was just too far away to make for a good photo.

It’s no secret that my route to the Grand Canyon hasn’t been particularly direct. Case in point, to pedal directly from Kitchener, ON to this particular spot of the Idaho/Utah state line is actually only 2,000 miles. Thus far, I’ve managed to meander my way across an extra 1,000 miles of midwest states to get to Utah. Since that was part of the plan for this trip, I’m more than ok with that.

With my state line moment documented, I continued on towards Crystal Hot Springs which was still a few hours away. However, it was about 5 km before I got there that I made another stop. In some ways it seemed kind of silly to stop 5 km from my destination but it wasn’t even 11:00 AM yet and I figured that would be way too early to arrive at the campground. Just for clarification, it’s actually not JUST a campground. Apparently it’s sort of “resort-like” in that it also has a big pool and waterslide and other such fancy amenities available … for an extra fee, of course.

Anyway, as I was passing through the tiny town of Deweyville, I happened across Deweyville Park which featured picnic tables, a pavilion and a mountain backdrop. It seemed like a good place to stop for lunch. I was not alone in that thinking. As it turns out, there were a few people already there preparing for a class reunion – the Class of 64 to be specific. I can’t remember the name of the school … “Grace”-something, I think. Maybe it’s best I don’t remember. Anyway, I don’t think they liked me being there but, well … no one said anything. Actually, it was funny … when I asked if it was ok if I used one of the MANY picnic tables, one woman reluctantly gave me the ok. The only other person that said a word to me the entire time was a spouse of one of the “Class of 64” alumni. She seemed kind of bored with the whole reunion and likely figured she knew about the same number of people there as I did, so she asked where I was headed. We chatted briefly before I returned to my lunch and she returned to looking bored. I can’t say I blame her.

Unnecessary side note: It was kind of amusing during the various speeches when one person was describing a call she had with one of the absent graduates of the Class of 64. When she asked if he would attend, he replied, “Why would I come to one of those things? I can’t stand any of you people.” Not surprisingly there was an audible gasp from the crowd followed by a not-so-audible silent pause as they pondered the possibility that someone didn’t like them. A few comments were made as to the possible reason before the moderator concluded that “there’s obviously something personal there.” I found it interesting because they all seemed dismayed by the comment yet the woman who had actually been talking to the person didn’t take the opportunity to actually ask, “Why?” I kind of got the sense they preferred to live in their own little bubble. And the reunion carried on.

Anyway, eventually I moved on down the road to Crystal Hot Springs where things really didn’t go as I had anticipated. Upon approaching the counter and being greeted by a trio of (likely) sub-20 year old girls, I was promptly informed that they didn’t have any sites available. The fact that I was travelling by bike didn’t matter. As the one girl said, “Our tent sites have been booked for almost two weeks now.” And it was said in such a way as if I should’ve known that. I suspected further conversation would’ve been an unnecessary waste of time and oxygen on my part. They clearly didn’t have a “No turn away” policy for hikers and bikers so I was going to need to find somewhere else to stay.

In all honesty, I didn’t REALLY mind moving on because I thought the $30 they were charging for a tent site was a bit ridiculous. And then when I saw the actual facilities I knew $30 was very much ridiculous. They were small, close together, and some even lacked a picnic table. Not that those things are critical but when you’re paying $30, well … I kind of think you should get something for it. Plus, for $30 I think there should at least be actual washrooms and not just porta-potties. I couldn’t help but think about what I had and what I paid last night at Devil Creek (or Devils Creek). Yes it’s true, yesterday there wasn’t a fancy pool and waterslide (both for an extra fee) available but I wasn’t looking for any of that. I just wanted a small chunk of land to put my tent for the night. And while the official tent sites may have been booked, there was still a LOT of empty green space that seemed available. Full disclosure, they DID say I could book one of the available RV sites but I would have to pay $50 or $60 for those. How generous.

With Crystal Hot Springs being a complete failure, I resumed my ride south. A quick search on my phone revealed the somewhat reasonably priced Camelot Inn in the town of Honeyville … a mere 3 km away. I had a new destination.

As would be expected from a 3 km ride, the ride to Honeyville was effortless and I was standing in front of the Camelot Inn right around 3:00 PM. Pretty much everything that happened after said arrival in Honeyville was very much the opposite of effortless.

The Camelot Inn was actually a mini-hostel which was completely automated in terms of checking in. I was fine with that. I’ve used such self check-in systems before and quite liked them. There was a number I could call or text to check availability and they were quick to reply to my text. They confirmed a vacancy. However, because it was less than 48 hours in advance of my stay I needed to book through Airbnb. I’d never used Airbnb before but I’d heard good things. Actually, I TRIED to use it once before (during my 2015 tour) but the app wouldn’t let me book anything. I hadn’t tried again since.

My initial attempt to book through the app was more than a little unsuccessful. The next several attempts were met with the same failure. I then opted to abandon the app and book using their website. That had a matching success rate. Grrrrr. This was rapidly becoming a nuisance.

I ended up spending (i.e, wasting) about 30 minutes trying to make it work but to no avail. I finally conceded and called them. They had me uploading ID, changing passwords, updating my profile, adding payment methods. Again, to no avail. And after more than 57 minutes on the phone with Juan (located somewhere in South America), he pretty much gave up on me. And I on them.

It was still only 4:30 PM and I was a bit surprised to see that the next town, Brigham City, was less than 20 km away. I could do that. It was actually kind of the perfect distance under the circumstances. I figured an hour of pedalling would likely clear my mind of all the frustration that had built up over the previous couple of hours. Sure enough, it only took about fifteen minutes of pedalling for me to be singing the theme from The Littlest Hobo once again. Oh, and just to be clear, the hosts of the property known as Camelot Inn were actually very nice and responsive to my texts. They even gave me the WiFi password in an attempt to make the booking. The issues were all on Airbnb’s side.

After the silliness of witnessing the Class of 64 reunion, the fiasco that was Crystal Hot Springs, and the disaster that was Airbnb, I opted to just get a motel for the night. And things started to change for the better upon my arrival in Brigham City. As luck would have it, there was a Wendy’s a mere 1.2 km from my motel. I opted to check-in first and head to Wendy’s on an unloaded bike. And when I ordered what I believed was a well-deserved large Frosty I was only charged for a small. I pointed this out to the cashier who looked more than a little frustrated that he had done that. I said, “I won’t tell anyone.” He then proceeded to give me my change and a large Frosty.

From Wendy’s I travelled across the street for supper … well, supper to go. And perhaps audition for a future in pizza delivery. I know I’ve mentioned before how much I like my bungee net, but at times like this it really confirms it. Definitely in the top 5 of all my gear.

I successfully returned to my motel room with pizza intact shortly after 6:00 PM to put an end to what was a much longer day on the road than anticipated. One consequence of my arrival in Brigham City is that I am now 25 km closer to tomorrow’s Warm Showers destination which means I should be in for a very short day tomorrow.

Perhaps the biggest surprise of the day – other than how difficult it was to NOT book with Airbnb – was the headwinds that never materialized. It was a very fortuitous surprise and one I didn’t take for granted.

It’s safe to say that today did not go according to plan. At all. And while it was certainly not a good day for staying on budget, it was still a fun day (well, type two fun anyway). Although, I can’t help but feel that my time in Utah has started out a bit like my first day in Montana. At least there was ice cream.

Today’s totals:
Distance: 119.29 km
Ride time: 5:11:40
Average speed: 22.96 km/h
Maximum speed: 57.97 km/h