310 miles, 25,000 feet of climbing, one ride, what could go wrong… Ryan Standish takes on two Iconic trails, the Kokopelli and White Rim. The Kokopelli links Fruita, Colorado, to Moab, Utah, along the Colorado River to the La Sal Mountains, and the White Rim loops through rugged trails from Moab into the remote corners of Canyonlands National Park. Why take on a journey like this? Ryan Standish found inspiration and motivation to embark on a journey like this for those who no longer can, especially his Dad because of his battles with Multiple Sclerosis (MS). His Dad’s journey with MS made Ryan realize that we have to make the most of the time we have while we’re young and/or able-bodied. Not only was Ryan’s Dad an inspiration when putting this adventure together, but his parents traveled to the US and supported him along the way as he took on this adventure.

“Just the Journey is what I am excited for, and maybe in two day when we finish I’ll say that was the stupidest journey I have ever done”
-Ryan Standish

Words by Ryan Standish

I don’t know what I was hoping to find or learn on this journey; I didn’t know where my mind would settle or where it would wander. It was weird, I expected to have some profound insight or “vision” out there. Instead, the desert became a truly peaceful place. With nothing to do but pedal, eat, and drink, I thought I would have time to think about life and purpose, but just moving forward became my purpose.

I thought back to a W.H. Davies poem we read in high school, which began, “What is this life if full of care, we have no time to stand and stare…” Knowing it would be a long day, I was free to look around, sometimes while stopped, other times moving through the warm air of late spring that slowly drained my energy.

THE LONG SLOG

I could feel a slight tailwind heading up into the La Sal Mountains from the Dewy Bridge crossing. I was excited about the long climb ahead. It didn’t take long for that excitement to turn into slight concern as the planned five hours to reach the top turned into a seven-and-a-half-hour slog…

The wheels were turning very slowly at this point; it bothered me a bit, but seeing the sunset over Castle Valley while climbing La Sal Loop Rd was worth seeing.

Hotdog Bound

With the sun setting, I put some extra layers on for the descent to the almost halfway point, the Maverik gas station in Moab. I had many thoughts as I was sailing down Sand Flats Road past the campers by their fires. Did they wonder what I was doing? Did they see my lights fly by them at all? Really, I was just thinking about their dinner; did they have s'mores? I'd eaten mostly PB&J's and egg ‘n ketchup sandies all day, and they kept me going, but speeding down the road in the dark, my mind was focused, and I was ready for a roller dog or two.

"Quick" Moab Stop

From the darkness, I rolled into town feeling energized, maybe from the dim streetlights or being so close to that mouthwatering roller dog. The neon oasis of Maverik was peaceful and slow as I rolled to a stop; I fumbled with my bike, hugged my parents, who had come out to meet me, then lost focus and wandered aimlessly through the doors of the station. found the hot tubes of processed meat and then sat… and sat… We talked a bit, and the mental wheels continued to slow.

Pulling myself up, I headed back inside for the fuel that would get me through the night; as I walked the aisle with Lauren, she asked if I wanted this or that; nothing looked that good anymore. I was fading, then the voice of David Goggins was in my head telling me, “You’re weak as shit,” and my response: “Nope.” Found some food, cake balls, sandwiches, a Nut Roll, and Sour Patch Kids. Not enough, but let’s go.

“Looking back, he knew what he had in front of him, he was familiar with where he had to go. At that time, it was taking him longer than he had anticipated, but he was still having a go.”
- Doug Standish

The final stretch

Survive. Legs are slow. It all is sore. Still, just keep pedaling. Pavement for a while leaving Moab and out Potash Rd. Moab slips into the distance behind me as the quiet calm of the desert at night greets me, alone again; damn cool.

Tired. Power low. Heart rate low. Eat. The moon was bright. Been about 17 hours since I started, and time is began to blur; feeling fast but not going fast. In the moonlight the tall canyon walls revealed interesting faces. Some were friendly and encouraging, others fierce and intimidating. Then, the little desert tufts of grass were blinking at me like Furbies in my headlight.

The pavement was about to end, my eyes teetering on closing and refusing to reopen. The boat ramp parking lot seemed like an excellent spot for a nap. The ten-minute alarm went off, and moving seemed easier; I added a little caffeine. I made it to the dirt, and the quiet desert was still alive with the Furbies and creatures from Where the Wild Things Are.

The realization

Continue? Can I do it? The doubt nagged for what seemed like forever. The stars are still out as I put this whole thing together. This ride is not just for me but for my dad; it’s for those who can’t take on a challenge like this, I want to do it for them.

I couldn’t ride in a straight line, and my eyelids were slowing again, so tired… Climbs mean walking…So slow. Tired brain calculations. At this pace I will take on the White Rim during the day instead of night. It’s going to be 85+ degrees. Water capacity? Eight liters. I would need support to continue. Ok, let’s get support. Support won’t save your screaming legs, hands, back, feet, neck. The Shafer climb problem, at this pace, it’s probably a five-hour climb. Then onto the White Rim and back into Moab. Twenty-four hours? Maybe more. Another nap? How long? That spot looks comfy.

Sleep

Coming to a slow stop on the side of the road, I messaged Lauren on the inReach. She helped with organizing my thoughts and some decision making. She guided but did not direct. Had to eat some food and get a Payday bar down, but the dry heaving made it tough. I learned that a helmet can be a nice pillow, dirt and rocks can be comfortable, and a space blanket can be surprisingly warm.

Finding the limits

I rolled out of Fruita and went into the desert to find my limit, to see what my body could do. To do something new and to appreciate things the body can do while it’s still able. There’s so much more to it, though. Body, mind, preparation, fueling, bike setup, how to carry gear (and water) without taking outside help in the desert.

I may have found my limit on the day, but I have so much left in me to learn what will make this possible.

Click here to watch RYAN's film

Credits:

Director, Videography, Editing - Danny Awang
Still Photography - Rachael Galipo
Producer - Lauren Echo
Additional Cinematography - Colten Sikes
Additional Cinematography - Ri Ganey
Production assistance – Garrett Payer