A new route up a different pass in the McDowells has gotten bikable. Supposedly buff and steep and full of switchbacks up to a boulder garden, it offered another 1000 vf, a step up for the Quad Bypass, and the removal of the thoroughly inelegant climb up both sides of Windgate (which, for the record, sucks ass).
From the first mention of the new route, my ego could not handle a step backwards. It would demarcate the beginning of my decline and fall, trampled under the tinyFeet of children. Talking shit to yourself about what a hot rider you are only goes so far. Oooh aahh, you were a pretty good Ultimate player once upon a time. Oooh aahh, you finished the Crazy 88, twice. That was 6 months and half Alana’s life ago, after which i have inexorably deteriorated into a weary drunk fat sack of crap. Something clicked after the holidays, I needed a change from feeling beaten down and giving in to indulgences, and this ride became a referendum on my ability to grow old with my children.
*POW*
Didn’t see that coming. and i so cleverly left myself 29 days to prepare for such a soul-evaluating test. People “who are experts” tell you that if you are living out of balance, you are a willing victim: you are controlled by the evil alcohol or food or drugs or sex or gambling or internet or drama or chat room or job, but you have enabled them. Their diagnosis — their value-add — makes you feel worthless and broken, which makes you either hate them and be “in denial“, or become even more self-loathing. Both reactions validate their purpose, the Shame Training-Industrial Complex. That will be $125, please. I chose neither response; I found a mindset that let me be me and be at peace with my parental responsibilities. And cleverly left myself 29 days to do it.
I crammed a couple good XC rides, a couple road bike rides, a lot of gym time, and a lot less beer and coffee. Is it belittling to yourself to think a 7 hr, 8k day will be a reflection of your lifestyle’s sustainability? Is it self-aggrandizing? What kept me believing I’m not crazy is Beckie running the Lost Dutchman marathon in 2 weeks, after training alone, on the treadmill. She has one muthafuggin deep dark Pain Cave. My training ultimately was its own reward, the change i needed. I was very relieved to find how familiar it felt once i fell into it, how monastic i was able to be in contrast to my recent gluttony.
According to Bob, I was responsible for the instantiation of Tom’s Thumb as the first pass becoming a reality. Maybe, whatever, I dunno. I posted it up to some friends on FB, then on mtbr, and then picked up a dude in the Bashas bathroom and convinced him to join (which was not at all as creepy as it sounds). I had things that I needed to accomplish, but convincing others to join my self-flagellation turned out to be the lift I needed, as I could never have set that pace or kept that kind of pressure upon myself.
the 7:30 crew
The problem with jumping on harder and harder rides is you surround yourself with stronger and stronger riders. The climb begins with 3 miles up Windgate, where I quickly slunk to the back of the pack and the mouth of my Pain Cave. I pretty much hung out here all day, turning on some music now and again, sipping on a recovery cocktail, entertaining the guest that was myself. I’m still stunned, embarrassed a little, at how fast everyone kept dropping me, all day long, up and down. Only by riding savvy was I able to keep up. As I approached every break I planned out what I would eat and drink and do, regularly getting me out ahead of the group, as the minute or 2 gained each stop stacked up. My clothes choice was perfect, light weight layers that peeled off and never left me uncomfortable. They were 3x warmer and 3x lighter and 3x less bulky than a hoodie – i cry for those who still wear cotton.
After 35 minutes up Windgate, the Tom’s Thumb trail descends .5 miles over a neighboring ridgeline, then climbs unrelentingly for about 2.5 miles.
It was exactly as described – buff, tacky from the recent storms, and Switchback U. 120 degree bends in the trail repeatedly left me flopping out a foot in search of terra firma. I got off and pushed, tried the next one, got off and pushed, rode for .2 miles, repeated. Enel was just above me, and captured a nice representation on his blog. Eventually I dialed into the switchbacks, and started stringing a few together. It became fun, in a total-commitment sort of way. A half mile from the end I crested the ridgeline and saw the silhouettes of the other riders waiting at the saddle. 1:25 moving, just over 1:30 total – not bad, especially for a first try.
Doug is happy, and led the chase all day
Before the ride, I posted on FB that I did not think I would survive. Many thought I meant the ride, but in truth I meant the move. cuz things weren’t complicated enough with 2 little girls. I could have looked down and seen our “new” house around the corner from the Bashas. I thought of this ride as a housewarming party of sorts, which explains why I have not ridden the McDowells since last year’s Quad, or roadied the Thompson Peak area in as long. There will be lots of time for these rides. I think they will be about an even trade with Hawes and Pass Mtn and Tortilla Flat and Saguaro Lake. But Hawes is kinder, challenging you but letting you choose the terms, and full of flowers; nothing in the McDowells climbs less than 1000 feet. I hope I will be happier; I definitely will be stronger.
The descent off Tom’s Thumb is the hardest in the McDowells, and it stamped the new route as a winner. It is different from the steeps down Bell, or the exposure down Sunrise, or the chunks down Windgate. There are many hard moves, and half a dozen really hard ones. Tight switchbacks one after another that you roll up on and center, spot the line, then commit and plunge – a cycle you repeat in about as long as it takes to read this sentence. It is one of the best XC descents I’ve ever done.
Tom’s Thumb drops you near the bottom of Windgate and Bell. It can make a nice ~3 hr ride up and down either peak. I like the smoother, steeper descent down Bell a lot LOT more, especially since I always climb Windgate from the west when I am dead tired (which, for the record, sucks ass).
the view of the Sups is awesome
Up Bell, down Bell, along Paradise and Taliesen and all the other 45 minutes of Scottsdale slogging — that which will become my pre-ride every-ride slogging — put us at the base of Sunrise. For the last 1.5 hrs I had paced myself and not blown up and targeted arriving at this point in stable condition. Every big McDowells ride comes down to Sunrise. I stripped down and turned on the music and climbed, and climbed, and climbed. I walked more than I’ve done in the past, but got to the top and still had legs and it still took me only about 36 minutes. I’ve gutted out the rest enough times to know that, barring a catastrophe, the Gnardruple Bypass was in the books.
Enel bailed at the bottom of Sunrise, leaving us with only 5. Slog slog slog til the 2nd new addition to the Quad Bypass route: the Sonoran trail. It started as a tight fun new singletrack, then mutated into a sloggy mini-TomsThumb switchback hell with one…ONE!?!…redeeming gnar move in the middle. The payoff was a nearly-graded 1 mile descent and 1.5 mile fast roll on Dixie Mine. Dixie Mine was plowed with a bobcat recently, and is now a sidewalk. Adding Sonoran essentially evened out the effort of the old route. Then we climbed Windgate, which for the record, sucks ass.
Tim, Jeff, Bob, Doug and the Hei Hei at the top
Cool stat: I have finished the last 3 Quad Bypasses with Bob, and the last 2 with Doug.
I dropped in ahead of everyone, and everyone still caught me. I am a fat sack of crap, and a nutless fat sack of crap at that, but at least I finished without bloodshed. .75 miles from the end of the dirt, hanging off Tim’s wheel, I punctured my rear badly and came to an immediate stop. It was 2:35pm, my goal was 3, it was the last ride for this tire, so I skipped changing the tube. Jogging in bike shoes sucks ass, almost as bad as rolling down the street humping the handlebars on a flat rear. I got in just shy of 3, and dashed home in time to spend the afternoon and evening with my kids, drinking beer of course.
