Helimech invited me to Sedona to ride Hangover. I don’t know if the trail got its name from all the overhanging curves of sandstone on the exposed north face, or the precarious way it had you dangling right next to the edge of the butte. I think its from the sick feeling in my stomach from being in terror for so long.
Its been about 4 years since I’ve ridden Sedona – the main touristy loop on Llama, Submarine Rock, Broken Arrow, etc. Its fun, like a mini-Moab, but not nearly as epic. The red rocks are neat but not much better than Papago Park, and for 30 minutes more driving you can have much better in Flagstaff without all the horrible pink jeeps and vortexes. But this trail was new, and wrapped around a butte right where the soil met the rock, and sometimes above it. It was like nothing I’ve ridden before, it shook me worse than anything before, and I can’t wait to do it again.
Up at 6, caravaning with Alex at 7, Beckie and G along to hike the Huckaby trail. We rolled with a group of 15 at 10am from the Huckaby TH. Helimech, Pwrtrainer, Landon, Mo, KennyB and a few others I knew — a very experienced and capable crowd. There wasn’t a bike smaller than 6 inches, and Alex and I fretted we might be the worst riders there. That self-consciousness too became a little challenge, or at least one more thing to think about: the pressure of keeping up with a diverse group on such extreme terrain. No one wants to be the sucky rider holding up the pack. Everyone was actually quite patient, supportive and friendly the whole ride — not a surprise, sophisticated rides bring out sophisticated riders — but always such a joy to be a part of. Helimech put together a great group, and was also a fantastic guide; Alex noted how he felt accounted for, and it made him calm and relaxed even though he pretty much knew no one. Thanks for the invite Mike!!!
Front Side
We started off with a ledgey, Moab-like climb. Within 5 minutes, going through a lift in a slot, I dabbed and put my hand out, right into a cactus. 
Freak coincidence, but pulling spines out of my fingers became my little hobby for the first half hour, which sucked cause the climb was where i hoped to build rhythm and goodwill for not being the slowest guy on the harder stuff.
We worked our way up the butte, and got a taste for some of the exposure and off-camber sections.
I’ve ridden lots of exposed faces, and lots of slickrock, but nothing that went off at such an angle for so long and was so tricky. The safe line for your wheels was barely foot wide, with gravel and sand and other random debris from the face and the vegetation creating a constantly changing surface. You had to completely focus on the trail, cause there was precious little margin for error.
Alex apporaches…
Alex almost dies…
but not today!
This was not my pic, but gives some perspective
Right before Alex slid out, I watched KennyB — an outstanding tech rider — smoothly move over the non-existent transition on to the off-camber rock, making it look easy. I love riding with better riders, cause you learn by example and explanation and get to enjoy some beautiful moves. But it can play with your head, tempting you to compare your progress with someone else. All day I was hitting things at the very limits of my experience and comfort zone, and i should have been thrilled with some of these gets, yet still found myself falling behind and feeling inadequate. One more dog to pile on to my struggle for rhythm.
We took a nice break before hoofing it up over the saddle to the back side, where the real gnar began.
Back Side
If you compare the two topos from the Front and Back sides, its apparent how the trail hugs the top of the butte for several miles. Crossing over the saddle, we soon came to an enormous bowl. Heights don’t scare me, and over the past few years I’ve gotten pretty comfortable on a snowboard diving off a cornice into a steep bowl. You realize the perspective is part of the head-trip, ride it out, and its really not that bad. That strategy works great on powder; here it was total bullshit. Looking down, i could barely find a line to simply traverse down to the first ledge. When I finally managed to pick my way ass-over-back-wheel down 10 feet, i got about to where Landon is in this next pic, above the small group. They all took a very slim and steep line down another level. I did not want to die today, and with about half the group walked awkwardly down a sandy slick pitch to meet the trail about 40 feet down from the rim. A clenching tightness was all over me, i really didn’t want to move, just sit there and gather my shit for a while. I think all of us who were walking were feeling it – Landon ran into a spiky bush hiking the steeps, and while he is typically a pretty laconic guy, he barely registered having me pull an inch-long spike out of his arm.
Again, not my pics, but this is riding the bowl
i won’t be entering the Red Bull Rampage any time soon
The massiveness of the bowl gave way to a long, off-camber traverse back around the butte. The trail was wide enough to not worry too much about falling off, but full of new challenges as you moved from slickrock to dirt and back again, while dodging and ducking the overhangs, meandering up and down, in and out of undulations in the rock. Sometimes your helmet would scrape the overhang, sometimes your pack, once i knocked my bars into the wall and nearly pushed myself over the edge.
another photo nicked from MTBR
Not exactly the friendliest terrain to build back up on after my meltdown in the bowl. I rode most of it, but was sloppy, skittish, twitchy. I focused completely on what was right in front of me, too nervous to look around and enjoy the views. Mike and Alex were doing a better job coming to grips with the terrain, and following Alex helped get me settled, since we are so similar i knew if he got it i should too.
Alex and Pwrtrainer, asking as politely as possible if I would get the fuck outta the way.
It was fun, despite all my whining. I heard Alex ring his bell around a bend in front of me, which is his little idiom for cleaning something hard. GULP: a slight drop and slot on a long narrow rock, which transitioned into a rockbridge inside a crevice with lots of exposure. I rolled it quite smoothly. A year ago that would have been a challenge, but I was so full of anxiety that the victory disappeared back into the pit in my stomach.
At the end of the traverse, we began a hairball set of switchbacks down from the top. The first one came down a sandy bumpy slot onto a gravel-laced steep sandstone face requiring a 180 right turn within about 8 feet or you’d go off the edge. I was so freaked the first time staring at the dropoff as i tried to control myself on the gravel that i gave up and just turned left back into the hill. FUCK I CAN DO BETTER THAN THAT!!! So i went back up and hit it nicely on the second try. So much of the ride was mental, so many things that bit me hard i will do better the next time, one by one they kept gnawing away at my confidence making me ride poorly and lose more confidence…I was so worried about getting dropped that I retried very few things and never learned from my initial mistakes…sessioning has always been a way for me to progress and study the challenges and skills required, I NEEDED to get a tough one under my belt, or I was going to whither even more and get hurt.
The next obstacle was worse, especially since i’d seen photos and they gave me butterflies. It was about a 5 foot, almost-vertical bump in the slickrock, a short shelf, another steep hump, another sharp turn in front of another cliff. This next pic is of Durtgurl, on a different ride, but I’m pretty sure its the same spot. The previous switchback gave me just enough confidence to build on. Mentally, i knew the necessary technique and balance to ride this nastiness, but it took a willful disengagement of my left brain from the right brain, which was shouting at me “CHOOSE LIFE!” Again, i should have been proud of the accomplishment, but the wave of queasiness kept me from enjoying it until after the ride.
We hit another crazy off-camber turn into a rocky staircase. The turn was hard, but the staircase did not look too bad if you could come out of the turn with a little momentum to carry you over the initial hits on the rocks. The last 2 trials helped me reclaim some of my headspace, so I tried it, came out of the turn sloppy, and decided to leave that one for another day. Taking two out of three but feeling the positive vibe coming back seemed a good place to be. One or two more very difficult obstacles remained, which i don’t recall since i rode them cleanly. The tidbit that stuck in my mind was carving into the next slot, making it halfway down before thinking to myself “i’m not back in control yet. I really need to remedy this with utmost haste.”
We ended up here
and here (another stolen pic)
The trail then mellowed out into more typical Sedona action. I got all of the final rocky climb, and saw Helimech on the trail for the first time during the ride (as opposed to watching in awe as he pulled off trials, or doubled back to check on everyone). With about 5 minutes left, I had finally reached the front of the pack. Woohoo! I don’t suck at everything.
There were two more awesome moments before the ride ended. The trail came down onto a 3 foot bench in the slickrock, i studied it, pedaled back 10 yards, then jumped it clean. I don’t want to be a jumper, just to handle what the trail throws at me; less than a year ago i could not have pulled that off. Then moments later as we hit the parking area, G came bolting out of the picnic area yelling “DADDY!!!!!!” Its possible she did not actually recognize me, and just focused on me cause I of all the bikers responded to her, but i don’t think so.
Most of the crew went to lunch, Alex and i had some beers i brought then hit the road – subjecting everyone to my toddler is much crueler than anything the trail offered. Around Black Canyon City the fear finally drained out of me, and i barely made it home awake. Sunday I sprinted out CAP to TRW and back. I had such a need for speed I blew by a couple friends on the trail, resulting in quite a nasty-gram later that day. Then I rode Kila down below the power station to hit some drops. Tuesday i had one of my best climbs up National, and got the Spine for only the third time and my first time alone. As I neared the Spine i felt the creeping knot in my stomach, but just put it aside, focused on the drop, and kept moving. I then made it 2/3ds down 24th St. including the nasty s-curve before putting my foot down to wait for some hikers. My only fear was getting back to the car in time to pick up G, and if I can get back to Sedona over the holidays before the weather turns bad.
…“its mommy’s plane!”
Oh, and they are easy to find and true to size. If I coulda gotten them on our CO trip for $55 its a no-brainer.
