Flying Fish from Flagstafrica

I spent all of last weekend working on the house, and had only this to show for it.

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and this too

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i was in a rut, burning out from the house and the heat.   time for a change of latitude.   My first bike road trip since…*opening vault* *fanning cobwebs**blowing dust*Sedona in November!

Maad, Helimech, Pwrtrainer and I set to meet for a climb in the pines.   James and I using this as a trainer for the Crazy 88, coming up fast in August.   We would climb much of the 88 route backwards, and generally hurt myself with the big bike at altitude.   The payoff was a new-to-us techy jump run halfway up to Snowbowl called Flying Fish. and then a loop up Little Gnarly to Jedi to make the traverse home worthwhile.

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3 hrs sleep and i was in the car at 5:30 for FIP at 8.

a little snow still hiding out in the Inner Basin
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We climbed for 2 solid hrs and 10 miles. The roll up Schultz and Onceler was pleasant, Mike and I talking about toddlers and the plagues they carry. The traverse along the Pipeline was the same shitbag crap as every trail I’ve ever done with a name like Pipeline or Gasline or Phoneline — its like Chris Rock’s bit about Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd.   only 20 minutes, to all of our surprise, shitbag crap feels longer. Then we slogged up lower Flying Fish to Gimpy’s Gulley, where the steep baby-headed slogging began in earnest.

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the climb tops out in the deep single strack on Viet Springs and Mace’s Revenge, almost as much fun going up north as they are coming down south.   The powder on the trail got thick and after 1.5 hrs climbing things got slow, but the pain largely dissipated amidst the thrill of tight rooty rocky challenges through the aspen and pine, a continent away from 109 and sand and cactus.

Pwrtrainer shooting a dusty slot
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James: I’m not feeling this
Me: Its easier than it looks, the powder slows you down
James:umm..ok
James: shit i bent my saddle rail

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blowdown was still thick, the season just starting in Flagstafrica
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Helimech
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full-scale revolt was almost upon us, no one expected the climb to be quite so substantive.   Flying Fish came just in time. it was a playground full of booters, bermed turns, some skinnies and gaps. It all got easier with a little sessioning – James and i made sure it counted, having worked so hard to get up here.

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i discovered something about boosting ramp-ups…like bunny-hopping out of it to get the bike back under you, and then you’re dropping to flat. i have no idea if this is right, but after one goofy endo that bent the cage of my *front* deraileur hanger (and James was too distracted to film), the light went on.   great smooth air ensued.
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the downside to FF is its short, and in retrospect not worth the ante – next time we’re gonna park a car at Aspen corner and ride it 2x with loops through Viet Springs and Mace’s.

Mike and Mike left after Flying Fish to jet home down Snowbowl Road. James and I headed back down the 88 route. Gimpy’s on the Heckler is supersilkysmooth and almost worth the climb up. then we traversed back across the mountain on Friedlien Prairie Road to Secret, the climb was long and painful after the climbing muscles got cold again and the altitude took its toll.   we briefly thought about turning down Supermoto for 30 minutes of flowy techy ear-to-ear grinning,   but stuck with the plan – making it a genuine big effort, big hit day. 30 minutes of Secret up-down-traversing to a steep grunt up Little Gnarly to the sublime trials of Jedi to the luge down Shultz.

Secret Trail
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Dry Lake Hills was not so dry. they were real, and they were spectacular
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with about 5000 vf under us and only about 200 to go, we took Jedi slow and played a long time on all its trials, which added another couple hundred vf. Many ego photos were taken but i mostly resisted the urge to make this “Cholla & Maad Make a Bike Porno“.   the pics weren’t all that, but both of us got a notch better on that run. i’m half a pedal stroke from getting the last trial on that trail.

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Chance of showers was forecast, and i packed my shower cap and slicker jic, but it was sunny and 60 from our launch at 8:20 til we wrapped up 6 hrs later. I drove home under a raincloud for about 8 minutes, which rinsed most of the dust off my bike. Schultz Creek was running and with nothing to save it for, i blasted through every crossing and got myself as wet as possible. my shoes were still cold arriving back in the Valley that evening.

try a hit of this shit

every biker wants something new. new trail, new route, new trial, new jump, new time of day, new tires. the freshness makes any ride good, blowing into your ride vibe and post ride vibe a mental mint to go with the physical thrill. The cool charge is the only thing left of the ride to float to the top of my brain after a few days and a few more rides and the hum of the wheels and the seasickness in my legs if i’m not spinning.

i almost killed James last weekend, otherwise the ride kicked ass! My first southern double, Sunrise to Bell.   my strongest climb ever up Sunrise, dabbing only twice.   The backside has supposedly been sanitized but with the heat driving away the hikers it seemed more ragged then ever, with drops punctuating the dust on crust.   James started to fatigue, ending in heat exhaustion. Why? neither of us knew.   just a bad day, but a tidy 3.5 hours of climbing and committing to the long way home.

to start our ride we took Westworld up Taliesen, adding pieces to the route for:

The Fast and the Spurious

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this little project has been coming together for a couple weeks.   the night before, Kila and i followed a line from Google Earth onto an unmaintained City of Scottsdale path, and dropped into the Gateway area. i’ve heretofore ridden exactly 1 way through here and that’s to Windgate…the rest has been some miserable grouping of dull-ass trails in the way of the real challenge. The only one i know is Levee – cause its an ugly straight scratch covered in rocks that is the most convenient and hapless waste of gravity leading right back to my new microminiMcMansion     i’ve gotten lost several times in this miserable grouping of dull-ass trails, since its all whitenoise and looks the same.   But tonight i committed it to memory.

Little good it did me a week later when i launched out to put together the top part of the F&S figure-8 loop.   I got the blue stretch on the bottom a few days earlier on the way home from work.   Even on the CX bike it was much easier than this segment,which looked at night nothing like it did on the map.   I went up, I went down, forward and back, tracked and consulted and studied,   i crossed and recrossed under Thompson Peak Parkway, getting only the top part of the top loop but memorizing every spur in the process.   Alana could have done my GPS track.

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its not hard to get lost without really being lost, and sometimes being found is just one tiny point that re-establishes the pattern, 1 turn at the bottom of a downhill you flew by the first time. my last ride on National was hot and sloshy and sloppy, but on the ride home i boosted a rock over a wheel grabber that has nagged me since i first rode National 10 years ago – it points the wrong way about 2.5 feet from another one that points the wrong way, next to a sandy wash with a boulder on its other side, a bit below the Waterfall.   I first saw this jump done by my friend Landon 2 yrs ago, and thought about it every time since, until i finally just committed, and it washed away every other failure on the ride, and on the subsequent rides, and maybe the rides before it. Clicking in rhythm to the sound of my rear hub. It was The Get, the one to hang your hat on, the New that makes it all electric and alive and in love again.