Met Byron at 6:30 with a wonderful overcast sky. I displayed, he admired, we rode. Byron had this wack idea that we should go counter-clockwise, cause he imagines that its not that bad and then you get to go down the north side. He has this fixation with the north side. Stupid north side bias, just wait for the 2 miles of babyheads.

We took Cat’s Peak, which I remember being kinda dull, and for the first little downhill it was, and i was vaguely annoyed that I ended up behind Byron after huffing and puffing to the trail head. and then when it flattened out, Byron dropped me on an xc stretch…go figure? There is a cool rockface up the back side of Cat’s Peak that I did not remember, and i flailed initially but then gelled with the Heckler and zoned in. Byron and I both cleared the steep summit, and shot down the slot on the other side. Then the baby-heads began.

It started just as switchbacks and washes, with more and more clutter in the trails, until gradually it was just a long slow uphill of cantaloupes and soccer balls. The Heckler kicked ass. It floated, swallowed, and chewed its way up everything. All the stability and squish let me stay centered and keep spinning. I couldn’t believe it was so smoothly climbing something I get pinballed on so badly on the Blur. The effort and fatigue was kicking my ass, but I was clearing everything, and dropped Byron. The bike just kept throwing punches and clawing uphill, as long as I could just keep spinning. Wow! I had it in my head for so long that big bikes won’t climb like little ones, and while I knew on paper how capable a bigger sloshy pivoting tech bike can be, to have it occurring underneath me was an epiphany. This was a big moment in our relationship together – $3500 of relief, joy, and a whole lotta whoopass poured out with the sweat on this soupy morning.

We came to a downed Saguaro, but the part laying on the trail was low on the trunk, and the needles had worn off. A Phoenix-style log drop!

Got it on the 2nd try.

Missed on the first attempt.

Byron’s chain ring.

Gouges left in the cactus

Onward, slowly up to the saddle. The bike performed nobly, but no one is riding that face up, though Byron went back and tried. I went back too, to come down the saddle! The rockface was easier, still scary but easier, but like yesterday on the Las Sendas staircase, I came too fast on the switchback and dabbed. pre-mature switchback-navigation? next time!

A big group passed us going down, and for about the 10th time someone said we were going the wrong way. seemed like he took a tone…like this way isn’t tough enough for ya? sorry, dick, we must have missed the sign at the entrance. Byron’s quip was the best “it’s my second lap.”

So after a party hat at the saddle, finally on to Byron’s ultimate mega favorite descent – he rode great. i rode like shit: between the on-off-on-off rhythm-breaker of the final climb to the saddle, and a couple shots I tried twice, and sliding sideways on kitty litter, and having had a party hat, and yielding to a horse — I did not ride so well. The bike continued to chew and spit all in its path, and the long rocky sections were a breeze, but the tight turns took some getting used to. The bike can do it, I realized, and after a few I started rolling into and up the rocks in the turns without really even having a line picked out – the momentum and the stability would get the Heckler through it. A few stretches I cleared that I almost never make, and my rhythm returned as we came off the north side and down the front to the Canyons. Good climbing and moving, both of us going fast, a few miles XC to wind down and build some strength. Sweet!