Day 53: Reliving History

Moab, UT to Green River State Park, UT — 55.6 mi, 1805 ft

I often think about how this crazy cross country biking experience the seven of us are having feels so extraordinarily unique to us, but in actuality is anything but singular. Not only have we met multiple cross country riders this summer (shoutout Stanford Spokes), but we are literally living the exact same days as the MIT Spokes team before us, and probably the MIT Spokes team before them, and before that, and so on and so on. Today we are going on almost the exact same route, rest stops, and destination as MIT Spokes 2025. But did we have the exact same day? It’s a good thing we have the blogs as the bookkeepers as history.

Moab, UT -> Green River, UT — 56.8mi, 1900ft

Even with the same endpoints, somehow our genius route team (me and Carmy) managed to cut out a mile and a hundred feet of elevation. How did we accomplish this, despite our Moab Airbnb being a bit farther than last year’s? We rounded the corner of the route that went on Interstate 70 onto a gravel road, avoiding an 80 MPH highway. Before you, my dear audience, erupt in a round of applause for Carmen and I, we must acknowledge our forefather: Joseph Alvarez of Spokes 2025. Joseph singlehandedly made all 55 bike routes from scratch last year and very charitably shared them all with us, including details about where they took rest stops and how paved the road is. We are incredibly fortunate to be building on top of the strong foundations he left us. He also happens to be the author of last year’s blog on this day, Day 53, which was his driver’s day. Since today is also my driver x blogger day, I thought it would be interesting to compare our Day 53s, one year apart.

It’s that time of the week again, its Joseph’s blogging day! But it’s also my driving day, woot woot. This morning, we would finally leave the Schmitt’s, who pretty much enabled us to go full vacation mode while in Moab. It would be back to reality for us. The thing was, the people weren’t ready. In fact, the spokies were very disorganized today and locked out. As people were leaving, Charles remembered that he shipped his cycling shoes to Moab, then spent half an hour finding if they were shipped to the Airbnb we stayed at. Simultaneously, everyone decided last minute to go to a cafe in Moab before the first rest stop, but Ramona never got the message. I too pulled up to the cafe, partially to hang out but also because I was ravenous from a smaller than usual breakfast. I got myself a fire sandwich.

We also were fortunate enough to stay in an Airbnb in Moab, but not fortunate enough to get to stay with the Schmitt’s, Sarah’s family (another 2025 Spokie, but you should’ve already known this from her sweet comments on our blogs). I want to say a HUGE thank you to Margaret, the Airbnb host who very generously donated us our stay in Moab—we could not have had a more beautiful and relaxing double rest day. It really was hard to get back to reality after full vacation mode, and it was a dilly-dally morning for us too. No cafe stop in the Moab downtown though; even I broke the driver coffee shop run tradition because of my recent realization that every penny I spend so thoughtlessly on coffee now is directly coming out of the amount of money I have for my gap year.

After Charles eventually realized his cycling shoes weren’t delivered, he too started heading towards the cafe. Hearing this news, I also remembered that Ramona was nearly at the first rest stop and I still needed to get groceries before I left Moab. You see, Moab is a bit of an oasis in the desolation of southwest Utah. Green River, our destination for the day, was a lot smaller and I suspected there wouldn’t be as much variety in groceries. I rushed to the grocery store to buy ingredients for today’s dinner, a gnocchi and rigatoni soup, as Ishaq went off on his own sidequest: buying new Specialized tires. Ishaq’s tires may have been slightly leaky, but it wasn’t enough to warrant getting new tires. This was entirely a luxury purchase (Ishaq paid for it himself of course). Ishaq delivered me his new tires as I was walking out of the grocery store. I then rushed over to the first rest stop, where I was sure people were already waiting. Ramona had long since passed the first rest stop after refilling her water and I figured she was going to get to the second rest stop before me. The big issue here is that our last two rest stops were in the middle of nowhere on the side of the road, meaning that the bikers wouldn’t be able go self supported. This meant that I really had to be able to support the bikers and be there, especially in the heat. This is the start of my driver struggles. I get to the first rest stop, a gas station, where everyone but Ishaq is waiting for me. I get them all sorted, then wait for Ishaq to eventually show up. While he was getting himself sorted for the next stretch, I went to fill up on gas and realized that gas was pretty darn expensive out here, so I only put in like 5 gallons. It’s enough to get me to Green River.

I also realized the oasis that was Moab and wanted to knock out grocery shopping and toiletries restocking before I left, but I wasn’t in the same rush. I LOVE grocery stores, wandering each aisle lovingly brushing my hand over color of cereal box you could possibly dream of, eyes wide with the capitalistic idea that I could and should have anything I want all the time. I actually tried to be much more efficient than I usually am, but it took time to think of the perfect ratio of new exciting and old tried-and-tested snacks for the team: green grapes, apricots, citrus slices in sugar syrup, piña colada Naked smoothie, kettle corn Popcorners, lemon Oreo thins, and Wheat Thins; jalapeno sourdough, swiss and smoky-hot colby jack cheese, chimmichurri hummus, Grillo’s pickles, and sundried tomatoes for sandwiches; powdered country lemonade and Pepsi for drinks; face wash, body wash, detergent, anti-itch cream, and toothpaste for toiletries; and 3 bags of ice. This somehow took me an hour and so I too was very late to the first rest stop. Spokes 2025 had a lot of gas station rest stops which I usually change into whatever looks interesting when I zoom in on Google Maps, which has resulted in some bizarre rest stops. Today it was some tourist attraction called Moab Giants, “an indoor and outdoor dino experience.” It was $18 for entry to see a bunch of huge plastic dinosaurs, so naturally I found the team camped out at the cafe instead. Fortunately, nobody’s buying new tires, nobody had left the rest stop early, and so this was NOT the start of my driver struggles. I didn’t fill gas here because I kept telling the team excitedly about this alien themed gas station I wanted to check out next…

After Ishaq left, I rushed to meet Ramona at the second rest stop, passing the bikers along the way. They seemed to be struggling a bit. This road was heavily trafficked, high speed, and there was almost no shoulder. This is probably the worst possible combination of conditions for a biker, and I was a bit worried for them. Charles was stopped on the side of the road, seemingly to take a breather from the stressful biking. I eventually make it to the second rest stop, but then realize that making a sharp left turn on this single lane highway with cars going 80 was going to be impossible. I pass the stop and pull off a bit later. I prepare to make a very scary u-turn. It’s like making a U-turn on an interstate, but you can’t even see the cars coming until half a mile away. I manage not to die and finally meet Ramona, who had been waiting for around 15 minutes. This is where everything goes wrong. Ramona’s back derailleur cable had snapped, leaving her unable to shift gears. This wasn’t something we could fix ourselves, so Ramona’s bike would have to get to a shop. This was very inconvenient. There were no bike shops in Green River and tomorrow was not a rest day, but a long cycling day through a desolate part of Utah, meaning that driving a long distance for a bike repair was not an option. Our only two options were to either have Ramona be a passenger princess until we reached Escalante three days later or to speed back to Moab, where bike shops were abundant. We decided to speed back to Moab. As we were preparing to drive back, some of the bikers arrived and I was able to serve them, but for those who were further behind, I left them a care package of waters and food that I would later pick up. The plan was to drop Ramona off in Moab, drive the 40 miles back to rest stop 3, then drive back to Moab to pick Ramona up, then drive all the way to Green River to set up camp. This was going to be complicated and very annoying for me, the driver. But alas, this is part of the job.

I drive back to Moab and drop Ramona off, then prepare to make the drive back. This is when I receive a text that the bikers had found a wacky alien themed gas station/convenience store, where they were able to fill up on water. I ask if everyone’s good with me staying in Moab, as this would make the day a lot easier logistically. I do worry about Greta, as she chose to take a stint on a dirt road to avoid the scary highway and she wouldn’t pass by the ufo store. This meant doing 30 or so miles in the Utah heat self supported. She said that she was fine with it, so I decided to stay. I go back into the bike shop and see Ramona intently watching the mechanic do his thing. She really likes this mechanic, he’s very down to earth and knows what he’s talking about. I go to the food truck park that we had stopped at two days ago and grab myself a fire quesadilla. I’m just able to finish my quesadilla when Ramona finally comes out with her fixed bike.

Despite reading this portion of Joseph’s blog the night before, there was literally no other road out of Moab and our bikers again had to brave our most dangerous road yet. The team arrived at the same highway turnout second rest stop and told me they had just biked through hell, if hell was 70 MPH cars flying a foot next to your bike. I, on the other hand, told them I just drove through heaven, if heaven was “a wacky alien themed gas station/convenience store” called Jackass Joe’s. It was on the corner of the dangerous highway and I-70, the corner we cut out of the route in favor of dirt off-roading (perhaps the same road Greta took?) so the bikers wouldn’t be able to see it, which was a real shame. It was genuinely the most bizarre gas station I had ever seen, but bizarre in a way that was like wow only a human could have fever-dreamt up this place and wow the categorization of gas station store is so loose that you can really maximize free will when designing one. The story behind it goes:

“After the 1947 Roswell crash, the U.S. government began more than just a cover-up—they built a secret tunnel system under the codename AREA-STUPID. The first route stretched west to Crescent Junction, Utah, where Exit 182 and the roadside stop known as Jackass Joe’s became its hidden gateway. Beneath the surface lies a network said to connect to a top-secret lab within 1.5 miles, guarded and off-limits to the public. Conspiracy theorists claim this facility houses Roswell artifacts—and perhaps even extraterrestrial beings—making Jackass Joe’s an unlikely front for one of America’s deepest secrets.”

This was all written in the back of the convenience store in a room labeled MUSEUM. The museum was about the world’s largest piece of beef jerky, which I can assure you was heavily advertised on many signs littering the exit of the interstate. There is also a story about the beef jerky of course, which goes like this:

“You’ve found it! Hanging right here on the wall of Jackass Joe’s, displayed like a sacred relic. A massive, leathery slab stretching nearly 8 feet wide: the world’s largest slice of jerky. The locals say it didn’t come from any ordinary cow. Oh no. Back in the late 1950s, when the desert skies were buzzing with UFO sightings, a herd of cattle went missing from a nearby ranch. A week later, the cows came back… but something was different. Their eyes glowed faintly green, their mooing echoed like a broken radio signal, and the rancher swore they hummed when they chewed grass.

Not long after, strange lights were seen circling over Crescent Junction. Witnesses claimed to see beams of blue fire lift the cattle skyward, as if the aliens had returned to reclaim their radioactive prize. But one cow—legend calls him Big Bessie Joe—never made it off the ground. Rumor says he was too heavy and too stubborn for even aliens to abduct. When Bessie finally wandered into Jackass Joe’s parking lot, folks say he collapsed right there under the neon sign, his body humming with otherworldly energy. The government tried to whisk him away, but Joe was faster. He carved and cured that cow himself, and what was left became the largest, most mysterious jerky slab on Earth.

Some say it still pulses faintly at night if you turn off all the lights. Others claim it smells different depending on who’s standing near it—like mesquite for humans, but something unrecognizable for… less human visitors. And every now and then, a traveler swears they see faint handprints burned into the jerky, as though aliens keep coming back to check their work.”

The store was full of weird jerky flavors, weird candy flavors, weird soda flavors, weird chips flavors, etc. that were all advertised in handwritten green neon posterboard signs telling you not to be lame and try the exotic flavors—I don’t know how they were importing KitKat flavors only sold in Japan to Crescent Junction, Utah. Overwhelmed by all the options and not wanting to be late to the second rest stop too, I left with nothing but a FREE communal fountain drink for the team and many photos to show the team. On my way out, I met THE Jackass Joe himself and I expressed how impressed I was at the place he had created, a place so unabashedly unashamedly unapologetically weird AF that it was even kind of inspiring. Jackass Joe if you are reading this, I LOVED IT!!!! 

Anyway, back to the story of the day…

We rush out of Moab, hoping to catch the bikers before they reach the third rest stop, but then realize it’s a pointless effort and change course straight to the campground. We arrive and see half of the cyclists sitting around, waiting for us. We set up camp relatively quickly and laze around for a bit. We actually have electricity and good signal for once, which is a nice change from most of our camping. Some people go for a dip in the Green River and I eventually start to set up dinner. Ruth goes to a laundromat and I cook up a feast. There’s not much else to report for the night, it was pretty calm following a bit of a hectic day. I got good sleep, rare for camping nights. See you next time, where we ascend into Zion’s backcountry!

I drive straight to the third rest stop where I have about 40 minutes to work on my national park post card coloring book I bought yesterday in the nice AC of the car, which I was extremely excited for. The bikers, meanwhile, rode through straight mud in the 90+ degree desert heat. It turns out that the “clever” dirt road we re-routed to cutoff the highway corner was completely swamped. Caked in mud, dripping in sweat, panting like dogs (jk), the team made their quickest rest stop ever to finish fast towards the campground.

Most of our campground days this summer have been my driver days, so I knew the drill. I spent an hour setting up camp by myself, which is always much harder than I think. As I fumbled around trying to stick one end of the tent pole into place, the other one would unstick and the whole tent would collapse because there was nothing holding its shape. This went on for a couple minutes, during which a neighboring couple came up to me to ask if I was waiting for other people to show up and if they could park in a spot near our site, which then made me conjure the image of me camping in this state park with all this gear all by myself, which was pretty funny but also extremely chuddy. Then the team showed up with personal cantaloupes for everyone and finished setting up. Some people finally decided to eat the yummy food I had got for lunch and had been asking them all day to try, some people went for a dip in the Green River with our floatie in an optimal shaded position, some people worked on their blogs in our cute campground setup.

I have no idea how last year’s team COOKED in their campgrounds; I genuinely think it would take us three hours to even set up a fire or whatever the heck you need to operate a grill. We drove to Tamarisk Restaurant instead, who very generously donated us the most delicious chilaquiles and french dip subs, and whose house-made raspberry iced tea was SO INSANELY DELICIOUS that I asked the drivers the next day to get me one for the morning, which singlehandedly kept my mood up for a solid 40 miles straight (foreshadowing for tomorrow), and that I still think about all the time to this day (foreshadowing for the ten days this blog is late). Afterwards, Nunu went to the laundromat, we all turned in for bed, it was a pretty calm evening for Spokes 2026 as well. I also got really good sleep at this campground. Maybe there was sleeping magic in the air. See you next time, after a couple of extremely buns* days in which we were apparently climbing Zion’s backcountry (I didn’t realize it extends so far)! 

PS: This is from my last driver day so this is two weeks late, but I want to give the biggest bestest hugest shoutout to Joe from Trek Highlands Ranch in Denver, who fixed up all our bikes so smoothly that none of us have run into a single tire or derailleur issue since. Joe if you are reading this, you are truly a hero of our trip and I often look back just to think about how awesome of a bike shop experience that was.

PPS: To answer Sarah’s question from two blogs ago about who everybody’s godly parent would be if we were in the Percy Jackson Universe (these were communally decided, for the record):

• Carmen: Artemis
• Nunu: Hecate
• Aarushi: Aphrodite
• Tatiana: Hermes
• Drew: Mars
• Nate: Pluto
• Caroline: Pan

One could say we are the chosen seven on a grand quest to fulfill the Great Prophecy…

Sending love and tailwinds to all the Spokes teams who paved the way for us,

Aarushi

---

* “In modern slang, buns means ‘bad,’ ‘terrible,’ or of very poor quality. If someone says ‘that movie was buns’ or ‘you’re buns at this game,’ they mean it is awful or that a person is bad at something… According to Merriam-Webster, this usage evolved as a short, milder version of other posterior-related slang terms like ‘cheeks’ or ‘ass’ to describe something low-quality.” (Google AI Overview, 2026)