+We had just topped out at the 6800-foot elevation and began our long descent into the deepest canyon in North America. We knew our knobby tires would be groaning down some steep stretches of asphalt. Bob wanted to take it slow heading down, so he sat up to get the most wind resistance. Rick, on the other hand, went into a downhill skier’s tuck.

At first, even though it was steep, the road gently curved through rolling hills of shady coniferous forest. Then we hit a ridgeline and dropped to its left side emerging out of the forest and onto open semi-arid terrain. A wall of rock to one side and just the tops of trees and shrubs to the other hinted at the dropoff beyond the road’s shoulder. The road steepened and tightened its curves.

Knobby tires were humming. Grip incense burner the brakes hard and lean right. Hope no cars were coming. A quick glance behind. Grip ’em again and lean left. Curve after curve. Our legs weren’t pumping, but our adrenaline sure was.

We began this screamer at the Grant Grove area of Kings Canyon National Park. Forty miles of challenging Highway 180 lay ahead of us. We’d pass through Sierra National Forest land, re-entering Kings Canyon National Park at Cedar Grove, and ending at the aptly named Roads End. On kind of a lark, we had backpacked most of this road before. It was during the winter months when the road is closed to traffic due, not to snow, but to rockslides. Rocks crash down on the roadway from the push of freezing water. This time, however, we’d be competing for space with automotive monsters.

After backpacking and cross country skiing for about two decades, we (Robert, a freelance writer/photographer from Sacramento, and Richard, a teacher and writer from Fresno) wanted to branch out in our outdoor adventuring and include bike-packing. It happened that we had just returned to Richard’s abode in Fresno from a failed attempt at cross country skiing the Sierra High Route across Sequoia National Park. We were sore and a little bit blistered, so naturally, for us, the idea of going ahead and biking the deepest canyon in North America popped into our heads. We had wanted to bike Kings Canyon for years for the physical challenge of it, and since Robert was already in Fresno with Rick, we took the hours’ drive to our starting point at Grant Grove.

After telling the rangers that our car would be there overnight, we started from the Grant Grove visitor center. After a steady 300-foot climb, we reached the highest point at Cherry Gap, at 6800′ elevation. Just after starting downhill from Cherry Gap, we saw a very loaded biker heading out. He yelled at us over the noise of oncoming cars, “I made it!”

Most of the journey would be outside the National Park in the Sierra National Forest. The parts of Kings Canyon National Park were put together at different times. The Grant Grove area with its towering Sequoia trees stands out like a sore thumb on the map from the rest of the park. Which makes the ride from the “thumb” to the “body” of the National Park outside the park boundaries.

From Cherry Gap to the South Fork of the Kings River the highway drops a steep 4000 feet with only occasional upslopes to let our brakes cool. Most of the way has little or no shoulder, so we had to be cautious. Our first stop was the Junction Viewpoint, where we peered at the junction of the south fork and middle fork of the Kings River. From the top of Spanish Mountain to the bed of the Kings River, is the greatest vertical relief in the United States-about 8200 feet.

You can also look down on the only available lodging along the route that’s not inside the park, Kings Canyon Lodge. It’s next to Ten Mile Creek on Barton Flat, the only large piece of flat land to be found on this steep stretch.

From the Junction Viewpoint, we rode down more curves including some hairpins before crossing Ten Mile Creek and reaching the Kings Canyon Lodge. We rested briefly before we saddled up again and paralleled the creek for a while. Past the Yucca Point Trailhead, we turned away from the creek and began a stretch with a little more up to it, but still mostly down. Finally, we rounded a broad left curve and entered a narrow, V-shaped gorge carved by the South Fork of the Kings River.

At the lowest point of the road, Highway 180 crosses this river. Our trip came after the 1994-1995 rainy season, the wettest in more than a decade. The Kings River and other streams were churning away with an unusual fury for June. Forecasters were predicting that the peak runoff would actually come later, perhaps in July. This is very unusual for California but made for exciting views of the waterfalls, including waterfalls that probably don’t usually exist this late in a typical summer.