Up and over to Park City, Utah

On vacation yet stressing about the climb up Emigration Pass, Little Mountain and over to Park City, Utah. I’ve easily done 39 miles before, loaded with about 80 pounds of gear. But the mountains to the east are daunting, like a wall of 90-degree rock.

I slept a little and prayed a lot. I flipped on my red blinking taillight and headed out at 5 a.m. in the dark. Nervous and wanting to turn around, my anxiety was getting to me and with each pedal stroke I reassured myself this was the adventure I relished.

Spinning up Donner Hill I stopped to put on biking pants and a heavier jacket, temps were dropping as I headed up the mountain pass. Odd, I wasn’t alone.

”You look like you’re going a long way,” said a wirey woman dressed in biking gear.

It was someone I didn’t know but from my same tribe. “Have fun,” she said and was off with the glow of a red light in her wake.

That same scenario happened time and time again that morning. Cheers from other riders and shouts of encouragement. “You’re doing it,” said one man embedded in a pack of six older bikers.

I was doing it and as my doubts faded my confidence renewed. My journey was also not as difficult as ones before me who blazed the path in the 1800’s.

“August 23, 1846, and the ill-fated Donner-Reed party had reached the place where I started at Wasatch Mountains. Here at this narrow mouth of the canyon they were stopped by what seemed impenetrable brush and boulders.

“Bone weary they decided instead to climb the hill in front of them. 12-year-old Virginia Reed later recalled that nearly every yolk of oxen was required to pull each of the parties 23 wagons up the hill.

“After this ordeal, the oxen needed rest, but there was no time the party pushed on to the salt flats where many of the oxen gave out. This caused delays which led to the disaster in the Sierra Mountains.”

I had reached the peak. The sun was out and the day warming. I asked a biker next to me if there was water below. “Not for a while… are you out? You can have mine I’m headed home and you look like you’re on a journey.”

And with that my new best friend Ian dumped his water bottle into mine.

Another older biker Steve asked me my route. “You’re about 6,000-feet elevation, you should be proud,” he said.

Steve made the same climb three times a week.

While I had my route laid out the I80 alternative looked inviting; read that as shorter distance. Although the Interstate was filled with ominous semis, they too were slowed to a crawl because of the 5-percent grade.

I was proud of my initial climb but two more similar treks that day…. I’ll be honest, if someone had offered me a ride I would have taken it.

Exit 140 and the Moose Cafe came to my rescue. Small diner which featured a huge sun puddle next to the south side of the building. I pulled up a piece of sidewalk and sat down.

The elevation and a breakfast of 3 Twizzlers candy whips was making my head hurt.

My eyes closed and back to the wall I was soaking in the sun when there was some shuffling next to me.

An older man in a colorful black apron with the word Peru written on the front sat a black metal chair next to me. “For you. Sit,” he said.

It was Juan Acharte, the owner of the Moose Cafe. He then quietly slipped back inside the diner and closed the door.

I sat on the chair out of respect, knowing they were watching through the window. In about 5 minutes I was lying on the ground in the sun hoping for a short nap.

Juan, 83, and his wife Rosa emigrated from Peru 28 years ago. “Our children had been exchange students in the US and then they moved here and the only way to really see them was to come here too,” said Rosa.

Safety in the States was also a key factor. Juan was part of the military in Peru. Rosa, 65, feigned carrying a rifle and

spoke about always having to look over her shoulder in Peru.

”In the US it was not easy but there was opportunity,” she said.

The couple worked odd jobs, mostly in healthcare taking care of senior citizens.

Seven years ago they took over the Moose Cafe and haven’t looked back.

Side-notes from the tour:

• I gave Juan and Rosa one of the postcards of Jordan and Juan promptly placed it behind glass in the curio cabinet full of his treasures at the entrance to the cafe.
• I had steak tacos for lunch. Hearty chunks of steak inside homemade soft-shell tacos accompanied by 2 small containers of fresh onion and cilantro and shredded cheese. Much better biking with protein according to my coaches at A1 Health and Fitness.
  
• Park City has a network of fabulous paved bike paths that run parallel to the main highway. The area leading into the city is filled with art, agriculture and signs from the 2002 Winter Olympics.
  

If you’re enjoying tagging along on the 2025 tour and would like to be part of Team Jordan and supporting his efforts in the 2026 Winter Olympics please feel free to make a kind donation. Gold medalist Dan Jansen has offered use of the Dan Jansen Foundation and will use his 501c3 to donate 100% of the monies noted to Jordan Stolz.