G said this to me when i arrived home. It was funny because it was true. I’m a Flight of the Pigs virgin no longer!

getting up at 4:30 on Black Friday sucked ass, but at least it was for something superfun with (A LOT) of friends. People doing it to save $40 on a DVD player: Have you not heard of buy.com?

There are a bajillion pixels about The Flight on the intertubez, i have nothing new to add, but there were some cool highlights. First one came as we rested at San Juan road after hammering across National. I’ve been conditioned by Jim’s Squealer such that I can’t do Natty coast-to-coast slow, and it was cool to be outriding a lot of the pack on the techy stuff, knowing their time would come on the sprints. Other than picking lines more critically, I hardly noticed the Hei Hei vs. the Heckler on the gnar, and once again the Hei Hei was far far superior for everything else. It left Bob, Doug and I near the front of the ~70 riders at the first re-group. Bob brought a flask of Maker’s to share, and i had 2lbs of M&M’s, which make a great chaser at 10am.

the pack amassed for a 10 mile sprint NE to 3rd Ave and McDowell for lunch. Somehow I kept up with the lead group, which i did not intend or think possible, I roadie so little anymore. Going wheel-to-wheel is a lot less scary with fat tires and slacker angles and baggies.

Sacks Sandwiches after 3.5 hrs and 30 miles hit the spot. the opportunity to use a real bathroom was so opulent, i pooped twice. The crowd showed rather little aftereffects of Thankgiving Dinner. In retrospect, i was glad this event loomed over the start of the long weekend, cause it kept me from sinking into the depths of Tday sloth and drunken coma: i was very legal to drive everyone to the park at 6pm the night before . The long ride and need to drive home had the same effect on Friday. When I left the post-ride party at 8pm, I’d had 4.5 drinks over 5 hrs and 25 miles, my BAC was .04 and I was too tired for 3rds at the bbq.

splayed out for lunch

another 15 miles up town and across T100, the dirt and ascents started to feel very slow, the ease of T100 rudely punctuated by several steep hike-a-bikes.� Yuri and Gordon rode in to provide a SAG stop by the Dreamy Draw TH.� It refreshed my attitude. Thanks guys!

i was back in my Happy Place as i hit the last significant climb on the ride, and 30 min later reached our next regroup on the grassy knoll where T100 ends at Tatum. Durtgurl, Scott and Elissa Nowacki, Mike R and others SAGd us an awesome spread of bacon and deserts. A shot of Jack with James melted away the last 10 hours of November outside.

Buzzed or reinvigorated? whatever, it sure worked! I kept up with the lead group for another 10 miles south through Papago Park to our last regroup at Hunt’s Tomb. But this 5th time trial left me flat. A 70-mile, 7 hr ride – half on the road – should not have hurt as much as it did, but riding it at group pace rather than my own enduro pace wore me down weirdly. I cracked off the lead group 5 miles from the end heading south through Tempe back to Jim’s house near Somo. It was a bigtime crack too; click click boom and I was suddenly on E. My head got weird, but in a good way – i found something to grab onto, a wisp of pride perhaps to not be DFL, or could have been an eye-booger, hard to tell…eventually it became another rider’s wheel, and then someone else’s wheel on the biggest little overpass climb ever. I’m used to being able to endure, but at my own pace, and this unexpected bit of backbone under pressure was unexpected. Maybe I should ride with groups more?

Jim and Kim rewarded the finishers with a new pair of Pig socks, ironic as Beckie lost one of the pair I’d bought at the last Squealer. She found it while I was riding, just as the flask I’d bought on Ebay weeks before arrived in the mail. All signs to do The Flight again.

This post is mostly for my (2? 3?) non-riding readers who always wonder what the hell i mean by tech riding. its not an ego thing, though its cool to see it be me, and if you know my size and scope you get a better understanding.

This spot on National i call Cactus Drop. It’s been hard every single one of my ~150 trips up National.     a tricky bit down, too, since its always sandy.   When i ride National weekly I get it every time.   A benchmark for every ride.   Part of this and that.   I got it 3rd try last week, almost got it almost got it and almost tumbled back off the lip this week.

i’m getting there. i did 80lb quad curls this week.

Maad was feeling frisky with the pixels this day.   Some other nice shots on his site.

I did Alta and got pwnd.

3rd time on Alta, and what-feels-like regression has me thinking I won’t do it again. First time on Alta   was 3 yrs ago on the Blur, with the Heckler on order. i expected total terror and knew there was an upside waiting for me.   good times.   Last year i did better, and was thoroughly happy with ‘better’ in the face of possible death. This year was probably like last year, stronger in places but weaker in others, which was worse. Another year of steady progress and badass shit and i should have done BETTER!!!!

Alta is the hardest trail I’ve done.   Goat Camp and Viejo, for me, were easier.   Alta’s 35 minute opening climb is all loose, with 20 extremely tight technical steep switchbacks.   i got 3.   But so did everyone else;   so far so good.   not. i was pushing too much, and brushing into cholla, which encroached the trail closer than anything short of bushwacking.   Stall-outs were potential scenes out of Hellraiser.   On the ridgeline we added exposure and slope and tighter singletrack, with a 5 minute crapfest of pushing up to the dropin. Going down i got about 1 switchback.   I’m sure i got more, but i missed so many i should have gotten it might as well have been 1. Suckfest in full effect. Every time i got on down the loose, cactusy, exposed, tight, sloped singletrack i instantly lost whatever rhythm hopping off again around another extremely tight technical switchback that was somehow harder than the ones on the way up.   No shit! first time gravity ever made switchbacks harder.

Scotty almost slid down the mountain on the Switchback of Death – he cleaned the drop but it was so deep and narrow he could not make the turn at the bottom.   As he was trying to arrest his slide, i went down the face after him, and in 2 steps knew i’d better grab on or i’d bring us both down.   We found purchase, i held one of his wheels, he slithered out from under the bike, and helpings hands hoisted us back up to the trail.

pic by Carmen

courtesy of Alex, Chongoman getting halfway in before he pulled out

Alta swapped switchbacks for rows of jagged boulders perfectly distributed to grab everything from every angle. I froze up, felt a little nauseous, totally unsteady and unhappy to get back on my bike. i haven’t sucked so hard in the face of a challenge since my first time down Goat Camp. It was stunning. Traversing the ridgeline, there is a rockbridge with similar jagged teeth, and a high price for failure down the mountain’s face – i watched everyone else hit it, scoped it, and rolled it.  

pic by Carmen, Lynnette on the rockbridge

That mojo, that trick of discipline over fear, had fled.   Unlike last week, it was the antiflow ride.   i turtled up.   Pulled my sphincter so tight i could make diamonds. Someone said that prudent conservatism in the midst of so little flow was a stellar riding.   Maybe so. I had only a few spots of blood from the cholla on the day.