Hi, Dave and Gail!

I’m coming your way, Dave and Gail!

Dave and Gail, at Mount Rushmore in August 2021. Haven’t seen them since.

Today’s destination is Henderson, Nevada – home of my riding pal since 2015, Dave Bowman.

Leaving Kanab, I’m only 237 riding miles from Dave and Gail’s front door.

The day begins by heading south on US Highway 89A, which crosses back into Arizona and soon takes me to the town of Fredonia, known as the gateway to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon.

Dave, Randy, and my shoes, visited the North Rim of the Grand Canyon a few years back. The Grand Canyon could be considered the gateway to Fredonia?

Fredonia, with a population of about 1,300, was laid out in the 1880s. Its name is said to mean the “land of free women.” Inexpensive, maybe. But free?

Fredonia sits just outside the eastern edge of the Kaibab Indian Reservation. With a land area of just under 189 square miles, the reservation is home to five tribal villages and less than 200 residents.

Soon after riding through the Kaibab reservation, I enter the Arizona town of Colorado City, best known for its checkered history with the Mormon church. Colorado City adjoins the town of Hilldale, Utah. Both towns, surrounded by the Vermillion Cliffs, have long been associated with polygamy.

I’m happily married – one wife at a time, thank you very much – and feel a bit out of place here.

Entering Utah.

I enter Utah, which would still be a US Territory today if the Mormon church hadn’t renounced polygamy in 1890 (the church called it “plural marriage.”). Utah became a state six years later.

Outside of the US, there are still dozens of countries where polygamy is either legal, or illegal but still practiced. A few examples: Afghanistan allows up to four wives, as does Gambia, Lebanon, Libya and Bahrain, the Philippines and Singapore. In most of those countries legal polygamy is only allowed for Muslims. Who knew?

Entering Utah, where polygamy is pretty much, kinda/sorta a thing of the past.

***

A few miles northwest of Colorado City / Hilldale, I pass through Hurricane – pronounced HER-ah-kun. Hurricane, population 20,000, was first settled in 1896, and got its name after a whirlwind blew the top off a buggy in which Erastus Snow was riding. Snow was a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and a leading figure in the Mormon colonization of Arizona, Colorado and New Mexico. He had 4 wives, 23 sons and 13 daughters.

Hurricane is just a few miles from St. George, Utah, one of the fastest-growing cities in the US. St. George was founded as a Mormon cotton mission in 1861, under the direction of Erastus Snow, the 4-23-13 guy described in the previous paragraph. Early settlers cultivated cotton as a commodity crop, but they didn’t succeed in producing it at competitive market rates, so cotton farming was eventually abandoned in the area.

Today, nearly 70 percent of the population of St. George identifies as Mormon – twice as many per capita as Salt Lake City. 

In St. George, I hop on Interstate 15 South for 61 mostly boring miles. Yes, mostly boring, because it’s an Interstate highway. The section for quite a few miles through the Virgin River Gorge is an exception to the “boring” rule, as it seems like a freeway through the Grand Canyon.

I-15, a less-than-boring drive.

Before long, I cross into Nevada, rolling past the town of Mesquite, with all its golf courses and slot machines.

Then, finally, I exit I-15 near Moapa Valley, Nevada – best known for the nearby Valley of Fire, Nevada’s first and most famous state park. Valley of Fire is a 40,000-acre geological wonderland of towering red sandstone outcroppings set among tan and gray limestone. The sandstone formations were formed from shifting sand dunes 150 million years ago.

Hydrating in Moapa Valley. It’s a tradition.

When I arrive in Moapa Valley, it’s a tradition to stop at the Shell station, have a cold drink, and text Dave: “I’ll be there in an hour and a half.” I like traditions. So that’s what I do.

Comin’ your way, Dave!

It’s usually quite hot in Moapa Valley. There’s a reason the Valley of Fire got its name. Whenever I visit the place, I’m generally motivated to hustle on to Henderson.

Today is no different.

Bike photo at the Redstone rest stop. It’s a tradition!

For about 50 miles, I follow Nevada Highway 167, which parallels Lake Mead, a reservoir formed by the Hoover Dam. It’s the largest reservoir in the US, in terms of water capacity. The lake has remained below full capacity for nearly 40 years, due to drought and increased water demand. The water level is now 1,052 feet, down 35 feet from last year. And it’s still dropping.

Dropping water levels generally make my head crooked.

Lake Mead and Lake Powell are part of a system that provides water to more than 40 million people, and water levels in both lakes have dropped to historic lows as the West experiences the most severe megadrought in 1,200 years. The water’s so low it’s exposing dead bodies long since forgotten.

Lake Mead, leaving a bathtub-like ring.

Leaving Lake Mead behind, I’m soon on the outskirts of Henderson, Nevada’s second-biggest city, after Las Vegas. Henderson’s population is more than 320,000.

Among its residents are Dave and Gail Bowman, my hosts for the next two days.

Looking forward to darkening your doorstep soon, Bowmans!

***

To view today’s route in Google Maps, click here.

My number today: 40 (estimated number of wives Mormon church founder Joseph Smith had; one, Helen Mar Kimball, was 14 when she became his wife)

What’s your number?