The settling has finally begun – I slept til almost noon. I didn’t really sleep, i got up when everyone else did, then just lounged in bed and enjoyed the feelings of softness all around me and gravity not resisting. That last 3 weeks had been so hard, i forget its been only 3 weeks. Had I not promised G, Kila and myself to spend some quality time together, I probably would have stayed in bed til about 2:30. Instead i sat in a comfortable chair and sipped coffee and researched projects, until G got fired up to take the 2-Bike to the park with me. But the tire was flat and out of spunk, which led to me searching for things to refill spunk, which led to things getting put away, which led to some research about projects.
We finally launched, and explored out the multiuse trails to the west and the south, past Westworld to Horizon Park, and the playground, and new children. I found a staircase, a skinny, some steep point-and-shoots, a serious trial that leads to nowhere, and a booter someone built up at the bottom of the culvert off Thompson Peak Parkway. A good 10 miles of urban\xc along with what Kila and I explored last week, more running the length of Sanctuary Golf Course and hooking into all the Preserve trails, or so Beckie tells me. It will take most of the sting out of not being able to night ride the McDowells. It can be XC, CX, or AM – depending on the mood. Over the last few days I have done them all – the Heckler with Kila at night for jumps and hooliganism, CX out into my commute or picking the girls up from school, XC to the swim club and back. I hit the booters, there are actually 2 of them, but I get ahead of myself…
I found this while we were packing up our things. My first trip to Arizona, we went 1-4 and lost by 2 goals each, a few plays away from semis, or at least top 8. The tournament was held at what was then called Horseworld. And now I live next to it, and it is the beginning of almost every ride. Down the block and suddenly the sprawl opens into an enormous steep half mile long valley on which i’ve seen barely another soul while rolling it almost every day this week. I’m sure it was there in 1990.
The new house is at the foot of the 104th St trailhead up Windgate and Tom’s Thumb, and its probably the best spot in the Valley for roadieing. But I’ve been utterly disinterested. been there, done that, fun but no mystery. I need to know the terrain spreading out from my driveway, to my office, to the girls’ school, to where i will runzehend, to where i will live. My goal is to host the next suburban terrorist ride, with all killer no filler. RECENT UPDATE: the pylons blocking entrance to the High School make for a tight slalom challenge. I would have gone faster if I had less beer. The local haunts are at least as good as Mesa, but I struggle to accept it because i have not yet embraced the gems, or found my flow. Making wrong turns on a first ride definitely affects flow, but missing my jump pit or 1 hr round trip on Tower Trail are open wounds that are far from scabbing. The second time I picked G and Alana up from school while runnig Kila through the wash by Westworld, I bullied up enough speed to get the doubletrack out of the wash, and with time on our hands Kila and I explored what other trailer-friendly routes might come out of it, only to blow my front tire, 5 minutes from school, 8 minutes til closing. The rims on the Masi are pieces of shit anyway, so i hammered on my flat, and continued to make a positive impression on the staff by showing up at the closing bell with a broken bike.
I tried half my commute, enough to get under the 101 and onto the Pima multiuse path. The next day i went all in after voracious google-earthing, staring at the Maricopa County Bike Map, and some help from the incomparable YuriB. That pima path becomes a frontage road to Pima that takes me all the way to McDowell in S. Scottsdale, just like before. I made it in just under and hour. There are many options between the office and home, some longer and more scenic than others, some swinging by Rage – the canal, a tour through Paradise Valley, the greenbelt. I took the greenbelt home, then on bike lanes back to the Pima path, and stumbled onto a pedestiran tunnel a under FLW and Thompson peak, and right into Horizon Park – very nice for avoiding all those death-filled intersections. Getting home to my two girls is 2x the inspiration. After they are in the car and screaming, I wonder why? but as I spin out the poison of the workday and the traffic and the city and my own need for a workout, i think only of their soft skin touching me when i hug them.
I’ve been a few times tot the Mcdowell Mtn Pool – tempertaure was perfect; whatever temps are to be perfect in a pool…that was it. and the walls were also perfect – i hit 19 flip turns perfectly after not flipping in yrs cause the walls were not perfect. the gym was nice and effective, but the scneary sucked. G will be taking swim lessons next month, and I can’t wait for bike trips to the pool with snacks and books and toys. I hit a staircase up on the ride out, then turned around and hit a harder one down.
There is a skate park, which I really want to try, but they explicitly ask for no bikes. The skatepark has no way out, once you drop the bowl. Its something of a fable for Scottsdale. People are everywhere, and they all want to have fun, but there are rules to dense society. Large yards are traded for common spaces, bikes landes for wide streets. Its different, and I feel anthrophobic. But its not that bad. Across the street from our neighborhood is a power station with 200 yards all around, and Kila and I traversed unnoticed and unleashed, what will be a dog-walk and free-weight route. The high school is deserted at night, and we have found miles of trails to the north along with the ones to the south. There are dark places, everywhere, if you look for them. When i first rode around the area it looked so slaggy and desert compared to Mesa, but now its starting to grow on me cause it looks so much more natural when its done well along the neighborhoods. much less horrible than blank walls and asphalt.
I needed a motivation to get back in shape, and to stop sloshing about on the trainer and lollyigagging around the local topography. My good friend JT was sponsoring a cancer benefit, a 100 miles to Nowhere. $40 bucks got me a benjamin, a corporate double-match to my donation, some beer and snacks, the company of many of the ultimate crowd, and the good company of JT and his family. Why JT and I are friends is a curiosity, as we only played together one time at Cat in the Hat in Tucson. But we won the tournament, with him tossing me the dump to set up the scoring throw. We’ve had good chemistry ever since. JT’s route was a 2 mile half-circle out, and then back, from his garage. The wind hit you at different spots along the circle, in both directions. 16 mph for .5 mile, 22 for .5 mile, repeat. Over 23 4.3 mile laps, 207 stop signs (of which I ran approximately 175), it kept you focused on the micro-changes and challenges. I refused to wave to anyone, who I would see again 6 minutes later – not any of the 50 serious bikers, enthusiasts, 75 year old grandmothers, children, or dogs received ad single wave. I emerged from it exhausted, burned by the white noise, stronger, a pace that was steady for 5.5 hrs, and embracing suffering on the bike again.
I mapped out how to fit the cars in the driveway to load children in cars and prevent door-dings, and egress bike-trailers from garages and prevent door-dings. There are flags, and chalk lines.
Then I called in sick to ride National with Alex. I couldn’t hardly crawl up anything til above the Waterfall, then i started to hit it all, and was as airborne as possible for the ride down. My bike stand and work table are mostly setup, and soon i will ride Tom’s Thumb. But I’m doing the Squealer first, cause the McDowells aren’t going anywhere. Any excuses heretofore can not rest on the move.
