West Clear Creek – Maxwell Trail

Great overnighter on the Rim north of Payson with Dara, Troy and McKenna Marino. The night was the coldest i’ve camped, and even 2 squirming meat blankets did not keep me warm. We still has so much fun in only 24 hrs, we’ll be doing more family camping trips and day trips to the high country, as soon as I order some proper chaco’s for the girls.

Saturday warmed up nicely for a sequel to last year.

The trail was very different, more steep switchbacks and slick rock faces, instead of down a tumbled drainage.

lots of downed trees made for fun balance challenges

Troy looking for something to climb

McKenna is only 4, and she hiked almost the entire trail. WOW!

G at the high point on the log, almost 10 feet down from here.   She was incredible about listening to instructions and controlling her fear. I also taught her how to fall into the slope instead of down it.

Last nekkid child in the woods

Kila!

Sazi!

Troy and i bushwhacked about a mile downstream trying to find the Tramway Trail. We found what I think is a bird’s spot to drop and smash open crawdads

Not sure how much of this is old vs. new, but Troy made up hysterical narratives for both

Who’s hunting who?

lurking

I’ll gnaw your leg off!

The Rare & Wild Kila stalks the creek side

who’s hunting who?

quick dip to keep cool on the climb out

The Rare & Wild Kila, sighting #2

the whole climb up, G talked about showing Mommy how she crossed the tree trunk. I got out ahead to spot her.

Kids were still up for a short ride

zzzzzzzzzzz……..

sleepy copilot view

awww, drat. Goodbye old friend, you died well. I need to ride another 65 miles to get a replacement

Those Three Little Awful Words

50% of 10 year old American kids think they are overweight.   Its creepy. It indicts us all. I want my kids to understand healthy, not obsession. G is starting to get it. She will have a 2 week camp this summer on cooking and nutrition. It will be brilliant, to show the foods in the meals and the calories & content.

Alana has also picked up on this, minus the summer camp. Minus any shred of sense.

Are peas healthy?
Is chocolate milk healthy?
Are strawberries healthy?
Are peas healthy?
Are pasta healthy? (noun-verb agreement, *rolleyes*)
Is gatorade healthy?

*rolleyes**facepalm* This begats wishful thinking, empowered by education:

Donuts are healthy, right?
lollypops are healthy, right?
lollypops are healthy, right? RIGHT?

Me: Everything is healthy if you have just a little
Alana: Donuts are healthy, right?
Me: If you are going to put it into zero-sum terms, no, donuts are not healthy
Alana: Donuts are healthy, right?
Me: Sorry. you asked, i told you, no
Alana: Donuts are healthy right?
Me: I SAID NO, SHUT UP!

The come those three horrible words.

Alana: Daddy I love you

Oh, no, so wrong. Pulling out the big guns.   I cant say no to that. And even if she can’t figure out a chocalate bar from an apple she knows there is power in that phrase. So i stand there, kneecapped while she ping-deaths me on nutritional value. I cant hate on this. Back and forth, back and forth, she hasn’t kissed me in 6 months leaving her in the mornings at daycare with only a non-commital hug.

She knows! She KNOWS!!!

Social activism is much more fun on paper

About 2 months ago, 3 riders in single file in the bike lane were run down on McDowell Road near Hawes in Mesa, a road I’d ridden hundreds of times.   The driver was busy setting her GPS and somehow missed 20 cyclists.

2 weeks earlier, a cyclist was killed a mile from our home at Thompson Peak Parkway and 100th Street, riding in the bike lane in broad daylight.   I ride this intersection several times a week commuting to work.   I was numb and stupefied when the news came out that because no laws were broken, the driver received only a $420 fine. The yellow arrow is a bike lane sign, the red arrow where he was killed. So prominent its a stock view on Google Earth.

Arizona, along with Montana and Alaska, are the only states that don’t have vehicular homicide laws. Arizona is one of the few states that don’t have a distracted driver law.

This is a quote from the Arizona Republic article: “According to the Scottsdale police report, witnesses who were in a car behind [the suspect’s] SUV said they saw a bicyclist in the bike lane. They said they saw the SUV “slowly fade into the bike lane and then hit the bike rider from behind.

This woman should be in jail. Her defenders say it was an accident, a momentary mistake, we all make them.   That is our overweight self-absorbed auto-centric denial.   How many momentary mistakes have killed someone? Its not momentary when the people behind you can provide play-by-play, and its not a mistake when you choose to not pay attention. Its not a mistake when you choose to get in the car after drinking, its a choice, right? RIGHT?!   Our laws are so inconsistent the idiot didn’t even lose her license for a month.

Like Snoop said: we was ready ta loot, bust caps off in dumbass egocentric careless suburban trash in their 2-ton tinted death machines, but the best outlet I could find was this Rally to draw attention to the problem.

It was almost 30 miles from home to the capitol. I met up with 100+ others 8 miles south, then we rode en masse.   I took my CX bike, cause that’s what I ride when I’m riding urban. Why would i ever ride willingly across the city through miles of traffic and bad neighborhoods, and not do it on canals and thorn-resistant tubes and stop for beers? Stupid move with 99 other roadies, not a single one carrying a flask. Thankfully i did not wear baggies, but my visor and spd pedals had people wondering what dumpster i pulled those out of. *sigh*…tridorks…

I have not been in a big pack in a long time, and only once where we rode without escort or road closures during Flight of the Pigs. The roadies seemed far too casual about playing in traffic. I spent the better part of 4 hours tucked way the fuck over in the bike lane, and way the fuck near the front where I could see first-hand the intersections.   Most of the others were just chatting and hammering and sometimes getting 3 or 4 wide and drifting more and more into the road, sometimes even into the outside lane.   ‘We‘ caused a car accident that happened right next to me, cause ‘we‘ began drifting into the outside lane, a car slowed down, and the car behind rear-ended him.   I jumped the sidewalk while shit transpired in my wake.   That’s why i rode the CX bike.

I ride the road a lot, I’m very comfortable, but I mostly assume I’m invisible. I don’t ever get complacent. You die when you get complacent. That such complacency was on display on THIS ride made me think its not complacency,   On the MTB, on crazy climbs, riding gnar, at pump track you expect to fall, to bailout, to session, to drop your bike, to HAB, to get bloody. Its a full body experience, and you are constantly reminded about your body’s fragility against bigger, harder heavier things.   Roadieing is so clean, so minimal, so weightless and aero you feel you are sailing naked through sunshine. In a pack you are in a vacuum and can’t even hear the wind. On the mtb you are used   to being alone, away from help, a police escort or a SAG wagon or a water stop or a doctor.   The day after the rally the rear wheel on the Bird deflected the wrong way and I ploughed my right hand through a cactus descending a nasty spot on Windgate. A segment dangled from my index finger for a hundred feet til it shook loose, but i kept riding another few hundred til the pitch eased enough to stop and care for myself. I screamed pulling a dozen spines out of my knuckles, cause no one else was coming to help.   MTBing is not about tightly-controlled   circumstances on mandated loops posted on Strava.   Roadieing is about structure, routine, and large packs of clean-shaven drone-like others. Seeing frivolous assumptions of safety, even after horrific accidents where those riders did everything right, pierced me with unease.   Would you call gnawing phlegmaticism a form of shock, after the crunch of an accident next to me, passing the spot out and back where the rider was murdered, then being around so many people who seemed so careless amidst so much danger?

The two hour ride to the state capitol building was, on the whole, stressful and not much fun.   There were probably ~500 cyclists total riding in from all over the Valley. The vibe wasn’t somber, but was very subdued. The rally was to the point and only lasted an hour, more for media and press releases.   There were a few speakers including Jerry Lewis, who replaced Russell Pearce. Lewis relayed the story of how he got hit in the junk with a padlock thrown from a car, during his campaign against Pearce. There was a short speech by one of the riders run-down on McDowell Road near Hawes last month. He thanked the first responders who saved his life, and if I am not mistaken among them were a couple of MTBrs coming from the NRA pit. There were also some media campaigns announced that hopefully will be viral and help raise awareness.

Then all the various groups promptly gathered up and left, with little fanfare or shwag or all the other trappings of 500 riders getting together. It just added to my sense of doing this out of duty, rather than desire. I didn’t know a single person in the Scottsdale group, and never got a name. People were polite, but most of the conversations were about training, or races, or other things that aren’t my scene.   My durable bike and how I could afford to ignore everyone’s signals about road hazards were about all I talked about, the little I talked. Conversation got less and less as my fatigue keeping up with speedy bikes built, until  i got shot out the back on the last 5 miles back to the meetup, then slogged another 10 miles to my house. 60 miles ending at 1pm in +100 heat.   I was very very tired. That afternoon Alana made me get in the hottub with her while we watched Genevieve’s swim meet. I was pretty sure I was gonna die, right there, death by good parenting.

When I got home I saw that the sister of the guy who got killed near our house had responded to my FB post, and thanked us for our efforts towards change. How do you respond to a stranger like that?

my deepest condolences to you and your family. i ride this intersection several times a week during my commute, including today to the rally. I think about it every time i go through there, and participated today in memory of your brother.

Most mtbrs think this is not their issue, and there is some truth to that. But its about anyone who uses the roads – runners, kids, riding to THs, commuting, pub crawls, walking your dog, or in your car knowing that there are laws protecting you against stupid and irresponsible drivers. If you’ve ever almost been in an accident cause someone is texting, this is your issue too.

El Cabrito

Spring has peaked, Arizona Aspen, perfect time in Mexico

We brought the boat

Twas a huge success

Yuri joined us too, and brought his family

Good times had by all

4 in a kayak is not an easy feat, especially when 2 of them are sloppy drunk. Its like a Downs Syndrom child leading a yoga sequence.   But after tipping many times on day 1, we figured out how to secure our drinks and keep our cores centered despite BAC.   Every day we had hour long paddles with the whole family, G and Alana swimming in open water back to the intertube we towed.   After maybe 5 uses in 6 years, the kayak is finally back in the rotation.

Yuri also brought a fat bike. Salsa Mukluk.

*WANT*

the fatbike was more fun than anyone should be allowed. No worries, no cars, just beer and pedals and water. A guy came bolting down from his beach house to ask me about tire width. A security guard swung his ATV over and asked to take a picture. A woman with a great fake rack asked if it was a custom frame, I asked her the same.

I got out to some places i dont haven’t gotten to. Saw an American Oystercatcher for the first time

And some of this

Los caballeros asked me about it 2 hours later while G was riding their horses and the bike was headed back to Phx with Yuri. A fat bike is what it takes to get noticed by the mexicans.

Me: como se llama amigo
El Caballero: Antonio
Antontio: How long you ride bikes?
Me: mi todo vida
Me: How long has your son ridden horses. Su hijo, los caballos, cuento?
Antonio: seis anos. How old the girl?
Me: Seis, bicicleta para cinco.

I foresee more horse rides in our future. I got money to spread, i take care of my bros.   I got no pictures. The moment was just that awesome.   I reminded Antonio when his youngest horse kicked G, and we all laughed.

With kayaking and fat-biking, the only workout of the weekend was highland games dragging the boat up off the beach

On Day 3 i went for a run, and heard a squealing while hitting hill repeats on a dune near Casa V.   It came from under a dessicated, thorned shrub.   When i looked close i saw a low path into the undergrowth, just worn enough for dogs. The squealing continued, and enraged my estrogen-saturated alpha male.   I ripped the bush apart, coughing up powder and rot with every pull, sinking splinters in my hands that took a week to surface. Just when i saw the small brown pup, three dogs of mixed breeds barked from atop the dune. Great…momma does care, and she is wild and she brought friends. I left the little guy and ran home, returned with a half lb of dog foot and a pint of water. He eats, momma would eat, or everyone would die anyway, but at least I’d tried to make my incursion right.   I heard a distinctly adult growl from the brush when I placed my offerings, and retreated wishing them all god-dogspeed.

Everyone loves their children