On Thursday, Yuri picked me up from the office, en route to start an urban ride from his house in Central Phoenix.   It was like The Amazing Race – get dropped miles away in a part of the city I did not know, and try to make it home alive.   We had a blast, good spinning and conversation, traversing large portions of the PEE route that came back to me in memory fragments triggered by notable features.   North and east and skirting parts of T100, ending with another tallboy beneath the underpass of the 51 and the 101. Yuri pointed me towards the east, the Reach 11 Trail,   and Scottsdale. Then we headed off separately into the night.

It should have been easy — a highway behind me, a canal to my right, and somewhere up ahead I looked for lights that may or may not have existed atop Thompson Peak.   But exploratory riding never is smooth, and i left my GPS at home, and there were all those tallboys.

“Well sir, we were going to this bingo parlor at the YMCA, well one thing led to another, and the instructions got all fouled up.” — Dewey Oxburger

definitely fouled up, about 15 miles worth of fouled up.   It was dark, i got confused by the twisty access roads, and there were all those tallboys.   When i found a marked intersection at Cave Creek and Deer Valley roads, I knew it was time to punt and follow the grid home, hardly any street traffic at 11pm.

thats ok i needed to train, though riding into work the next morning to pick up my car stung of dehydration.   At least there was maple walnut shmear and enough bagels to appease me.   The Whiskey 50 is this weekend, and I have done nothing for it beyond feeble attempts to stay on my bike while settling into the house.   I am not out of shape, but I am not in any kind of shape. I’m confident I will finish – how hard can 5 or so hours on the bike be?   I had the hundy a few weeks ago, The Squealer, some commutes, some gym time, and an upcoming Double Bypass up Tom’s Thumb and down Bell.   But first, Beckie’s desktop would die, requiring emergency transplants to try to preserve the best parts and the data.

Some people can take bike parts and cobble together a bike.   I can do that with computers, and was unfazed by the fried PSU and the MOBO.   But damaged sectors on Beckie’s system drive, and Winblows inability to recover had me up all night until finally caving.   I got 45 minutes of sleep before Zort and Yuri arrived for our 8am launch.

This was my second time up Tom’s Thumb, and while I’m still overwhelmed by it, its begun to make sense.   I dabbed maybe once or twice up Windgate to the junction, better than last time, and enjoyed the descent and entrance into the drainage that begins the 2 miles up Tom’s Thumb.   The first third was so steep and the switchbacks so tight I don’t think i got a single one, the second third I strung some switchbacks together, but by the final third I had lost my mojo wishing for the finish, and left a bunch of gettable switchbacks on the table.   I see attainable stepping stones en route to progress, and got some tips on mtbr for improving my tight turns.   Next try is in 2 weeks.

Yuri is somewhere below coming up the drainage

I reached the top in about the same 1.5 hrs as the last time.   I was dizzy, soaked and wheezing on pollen.   My skin was itchy, and streaked with yellow from the last gasps of spring in the desert.   The descent was more exciting than the last time in January, maybe cause i knew of all the puckering that was instore.   I got the hard moves, and dabbed only twice on easier moves where I simply let my concentration go. Next try is in 2 weeks.

The climb up Bell seemed downright easy after Tom’s Thumb, taking only about 20 minutes with 2 short hikeybikeys, and 1 good photo.

Back home I hung shelves, installed insulation, and took G and Kila for a ride on the 2-bike.   With Kila twisting me from the front, G twisting me from the back, no energy from the ride, and no balance due to the beer, i just said that’s ok i need to train.