My last Bulldog Canyon ride spawned a discussion between me,   Maad and MtBikeAZ (Mike) about stringing together a huge route from Hawes all the way out to Peralta.   It would touch the Hawes system, Pass Mtn, the Goldfields, and the Superstitions.   We had the west part of Hawes, PM and part of Bulldog sorted out.   Mike had some experience in the Sups and some tracks for the Goldfields.   More beta needed to be accumulated; I needed a long ride and was craving a new trail.

I’ve never ridden in the Sups.   Hell, I haven’t been to the Sups at all in 2 years. Yeah…i know, i know…blame the Monsters.   The new 202 extension makes it a lot closer, and in just 30 minutes I started soaking in the walls I’d be underneath at all day.

The trails out here are relatively new.   We started at the Cloudview TH, which splits the east and west halves of the Lost Goldmine trail.   Calling the west half a trail is a stretch.

Within 30 seconds I was face down in humble pie, thinking to myself:   this is total absolute total fucking bullshit!!   I rode the Spine on the Waterfall last week at night, rocks crumble to dust before me, WTF?? The trail was maybe 1% grade but all rocks, half-embedded and square-edged and moving and not-moving and pointy.   It took me 10 minutes to settle into a gear and a cadence that would let me move at negative-mph over this gruesome surface and still be moving forward.   I only looked up to see the mountains when I stopped to gulp air, my eyes were glued to the ground since every moment offered outstanding potential for off-balance low-speed carnage.   Its hard to describe a trail this ugly, riding in AZ you get so used to many ugly ugly trails that you learn to tune the chum out.   It was like Bajada, but flatter and smaller and more rocks.   It was like Ice Cave, but annoyinger.   It was the slaggiest parts of the McDowells, on acid and steroids and overlaid with an acidysteroidal mixture of sand and catclaw and Bulldog Canyon.

And then suddenly it stopped.

And then it started.   And then it stopped again.   And then it started but we were going 2% downhill grade at negative-mph deflecting off every acidysteroidal rock in the trail.   You needed to pedal to maintain speed, but pedaling made you off-balance and deflect more.

And then it actually, inconceivably, got worse.  

The Jacob’s Crosscut trail would lead us 3 miles over into Lost Dutchman State Park.   A quarter mile up it, i asked Mike if we were on the right trail — this to the guy who runs the single-most encyclopedic site on AZ trails.   The trail was…wait for it…yes! It was the worst surface I have ever ridden.   Everything acidysteroidal before and after lumped into one bed of rock going up a wash, that turned naturally and sharply like washes do, and had prickly pear and cholla encroaching every few feet due to the concentration of water.   Each time I felt myself losing roll and getting ready to dab, I’d frantically look for the nearest spot without cactus and lunge towards it to throw my feet out into something that resembled safety.   Falling over into space would be better than ramming my hands or feet into thorns.     My shins still ended the day with spider webs of tiny scratches.

One near-flat was the worst we got on the day.   I fed the spunk monster an extra helping of spunk the night before, best decision on the day, other than wearing sleeves.

Mike dodged this bullet about 15 minutes from the end.   I was superstitious about commenting on our good luck.   And sure enough 2 minutes later Mike pulled up with a chollaball stuck in his arm.   He was very professional about it, nary a complaint while he waited patiently for us to extract it out of his flesh.

After the first horrible mile, Jacob’s Crosscut settled into a tight, slow-techy trail full of hairpin turns and surprisingly rewarding flow along the base of the Flatiron.   Woot woot!

At 8 miles and about 1:30 riding, we intersected the Siphon Draw trail in Lost Dutchman State Park, and headed downhill toward rt. 88.   Part of this ride was to be about finding a connection from our GPS tracks of the Goldfields into the Superstitions.   A few potential routes we spotted on Google Earth were gated off or on private property, but working our way back behind the touron cowboy town south of the park we were able to connect the gpx route with a bit of singletrack that led us back out onto Rt. 88 just north of the park.   Woohoo!!

the secret passage

The boost from finding a key element to our epic route fired us up for the climb back through the fun part of Jacob’s Crosscut.   Something clicked for me, maybe knowing what to expect from the trail or removing the uncertainty of whether or not our ride out through all this crap bould be fruitless, but I was having much better success through the slog and really enjoying the climbing and the scenery and the moves.   Mike had been doing well all day, better than me, and he continued to show his prowess at rock-surfing.

The descent back down the horrible wash was…wait for it…worse going downhill.   Uphill was effort, but downhill the littlest bit of extra momentum led to the littlest bit of extra ponging which carried me dangerously close to every cactus on the trail.   Afraid to pedal, afraid to stop, afraid to put down my feet…i just pointed and prayed and tried to stay centered til we came to the end.   My hands and wrists ached worse than after Porcupine Rim, even though the whole descent took all of 5 minutes.

The last few miles of rocky climb and descent went quickly as we both could feel the finish of this portion of the ride, and eagerly looked forward to our resupply back at Cloudview.   About 1:30 to navigate the 10 miles from Rt. 88 back to Cloudview, with the route in this direction being more fun and just a bit easier.     We arrived back at Cloudivew in 3:20 and 22 miles.   YEAH!!!

Mike’s bud Kevin met us for the 2nd half of our ride, the day’s payoff on the rolling east half of Lost Goldmine.   The trail was nice, tight, flowy but with plenty of up and down and gradual work along the edges of the mountains.   It was rugged but relatively hospitable, at least by the standards we’d grown used to for the day, and absolutely worth riding if you’re in the area or passing by only 5 minutes off US 60.   Once we got out of the parking lot area, we saw very few people, and those we did see were far mellower than the typical crowds at Somo.   There were a lot of horse tracks, but they fit the vibe and ambiance of this system far better than cramming in between 6in all-mountain bikes and flip-flop wearing hikers in the Valley.

Goldmine is Kevin’s home trail, and he helped build a number of spurs through the area.   He fun-enabled this third of our ride, showing us all the little scenes and hits we would have ridden right by.   Local tours rock!   Thanks Kevin!

uniquely fractured rock

Indian pools for water and grinding corn

The best part was a loop Kevin took us down heading southward from the middle of the east half of Lost Goldmine.   It meandered, completely gratuitously, into and out of a wash via whoopdies and 180s.     It was like macrame – knots and loops for their own sake – that let us swoop and rail our bikes as we carved through the desert. There were a fair share of intermediate rock trials mixed in, nothing too hard, but just enough to keep you honest.   My usual m.o. is to wad up on new trials, at least until I get a good look at them.   Kevin gave us enough warning and led by example, so I was able to just hang back with my technique and clean darn near everything.   Superfun!

great expression on Mike’s face makes this pic a new fav

thanks Mike for an awesome day!   We had previously only ridden together on Milagrosa and the third Quad Bypass as part of larger groups, but found today that our pace and tech skills and stamina were very compatible.   Very cool when your e-friends turn out to be real friends.   Plans are afoot for the Hawes-PassMtn-Goldfields-Sups epic sometime before the heat rises.

We ended back at Cloudview with 31 miles, 3700 vf, and about 4.75 spin time.   I felt good and had legs up through the end. Granted there were no monster climbs, but it still felt good to feel good.   Driving home 2 coyotes trotted across the road right in front of me, in no particular hurry, exploring the area just like us.   I had time to stop the car, get my camera from my camelback in the trunk, and still catch a pic.

I met Beckie at the Pink Park, where it was my turn to tag in.   She took the car and the Hei Hei home to get out for some of her own miles.   I hung out in my stinky clothes and sweaty booch and salt-crusted skin and played with the girls until they too bonked, and then hauled them home in the Burley, just in case I wasn’t tired enough.   Beer and homemade salsa cured all; my salsa verde has officially become good.