Bad – U2

Since RR3, I’ve been riding the roadie every chance I’ve had, in preparation for Tour de Scottsdale. I got talked into that by Dirtrodr and Dgangi – Chris cause he was setting up a goal to get us through summer and our roadie spell, and Doug cause he said it was a great fast course with fun perks.

Roadieing all the time sucks.

boring, dull, lonely, monotonous, exhausting, fatigueing, taxing and at times soul-draining – grinding uphill upwind for 10 miles by yourself just sucks. I’m not getting sponsored to win the Tour De France, I just want to have fun!

But I don’t want to suck. Sucking sucks. So my last 3 weeks have been about 3 trips to the Lake, about 5 trips around Usery, boring hammerspins around Las Conchas, and sitting my ass on a stationary bike. While this sounds like a lot, training for a race in this manner is horrible. No base, no sprinting, nothing in a group – the only redeeming aspects of my training have been that I’ve gone hard and that everything has been climbing. The first training ride was a hammerfest to the lake, B-line and up Usery. I did 2:27 which was not bad, but my legs hurt immediately. Next 2 days were Usery, then 2 days in RP. My legs hurt non-stop, and it seemed like every ride was slower than the last. I tried not to get too focused on the times, knowing that my training plan was about as stupid as it could be, but there is no way to turn slower times each day and not get depresssed. Roadieing all the time sucks. I had cleaned the bottom bracket, and in the back of my mind I was convinced this was causing my slow times. This was of course ridiculous cause I’ve done this several times and it’s a no-brainer job. Roadieing all the time sucks.

The cleaning happened right after RR3, part of a 4 hour cleaning fest on all my rides. I cleaned, tuned and bb’d the Heckler, and just generally hugged and touched it after yet another massive weekend of fun. I totally cleaned, tuned, and bb’d the roadie, hugged and touched it in expectation of the next few weeks together. and I cleaned the Blur, tweaked the pedals, and installed a new seat. But I did not hug or touch it, it needs work, and is in a transitional phase.. It should not take this personally, its time will come, and it has been boss kitty for 4 years running. It needs to accept this rotation to the rear with grace. Beckie said recently that it looked sad that it was no longer stored in the stand. If only it knew how much money I was preparing to put into it, and how slim and tight it would soon be. The seat upgrade was step 1. as I learned, this is a great way to drop an easy quarter pound for just a few bucks more. the Blur’s seat was beat to shit. It was torn on every surface, and had lost a gob of foam so a nail was poking me in the ass. The new seat felt good, but there are so many tweaks to getting the seat right…5 rides later I still don’t know if its quite right, but it does feel good now on my taint.

Meanwhile, every other moment for 3 weeks was on the roadie. Its weird dialing into the road bike so hard after riding so much tech-n-bump the month before. You think you are good and can throw your bike around, then suddenly you need to scratch it uphill and forward without backing off for a second. Your whole stroke, and your smooth stroke, and your steady stroke all combine to make your power stroke laughable. Pointing down a chute is irrelevant to screaming through a corner at over 20 mph. I felt like I was just beating my head against a wall – every chance I could ride, slower times, alone, and no rhythm cause we were in Rocky Point and Chicago over the weekends.

I was burned, so very burned. About when I was ready to just get pissed off and eat cheese and Doritos, I got plugged into a big underground race\scavenger hunt\epic ride in Prescott for first week in November. It sounded fun, and I was leaning more and more away from El Tour de Tucson in favor of a cheaper and more-riding-less-bullshit alternative. So I posted up on mtbr that I was a strong but unspectacular rider, liked to have fun, didn’t care about winning, and my times for the Whiskeys the last 2 years. A few guys who I know only from their posts…some downhill guys primarily I think, who I’m sure are fine strong all around riders, but I really don’t know them other than from their posts…picked me up to be a 4^th on their 4-man team. Cool! Meet some new guys, one a Prescott local who will know the trails, have a big huge day! Anyway, they invited me to hook up with them on some local Phx rides, and I was pretty sure itd be a great idea to know each other a little better before a 10 hr day of riding. So the Thursday before Tour de Scottsdale, I was hooking up with these guys on National.

I usually avoid National before big races cause who wants the bruises before 3 hours without a break in the saddle. but I was not afraid. This goes back to the Blur, and owes it to the Blur, but was made gospel by the Heckler. I’ve hit the Waterfall 4 times now on the Heckler, and I am not afraid. I am humble, but I am not afraid.

Up Mormon, and I got the hill for the 2^nd time out of 3 on the Heckler, after maybe 3 times out of 50 on the Blur. Good times. I held my own climbing, and was not so far off on the downs. Those guys showed me some cool new lines down some freeride stuff, and I had a smile on my face the whole next day because of it.

Last ride before the race I was still giddy from the freeriding, and happy that finally I did not have to hammer, and my last ride round the Lake and Usery was 2:23 for a full 4 minute drop, and could just ride and enjoy the hills and Red Mountain in the afternoon. Turning left onto Power Road after the descent from Usery Pass, the setting sun low in my eyes and a headwind in my face, exhilarated and faded, “Bad” came onto the player.   “Let it go.   And so fade away. I’m wide awake.”   I couldn’t have planned it any better.

Beckie, G and I headed out to the Pima\Dynamite area for the packet pickup. It was held in shwanky Market Street in DC Ranch. Truly this was one of the best-run events I have participated in. Packet pickup was accompanied by wine and hors’d’vors, everything was smooth and easy and organized, the materials all made sense and were well-documented, even the pre-ride meeting was done well. It was held over a PA, so you could continue having your social time but still pay attention and get your info. The outdoor patio was great for letting G run around in a good environment, and we met my friend Doug who’s 4 yr old girl and Beckie and G had a good time together. All very civilized.

Saturday I took care of myself, a yoga class and easy workout, no drinking, lots of pasta, lots of hydration. Early to bed. Going back to ultimate, I have always figured if you’re doing something, and have trained for, don’t be a loser…give your body the best shot you can.

Arrived at 6 on Sunday and felt good. The organization continued to be excellent, I saw some friends and also a few old Frisbee buds. As small and shameful as it sounds, I really wanted to have a better day than my fris friends. Biking is not as in-your-face hierarchical as Ultimate, but in disc its impossible to think of a guy without thinking about how you match up on him since its all about matchups. Part of the reason its always made me more agro than riding, and why I am so much more at ease with the biking scene. But disc was taken from me, or maybe I gave it away…whatever…I WAS good and will always think of myself as good, and its hard to handle these interpersonal encounters sometimes with guys who have surpassed me…really, its all me. I’m a small petty man. but i did kick their asses.
Back to the line up, and it was time to roll. I was about 10 yards from the front, and jumped at the gun so the surge didn’t get me. But the controlled start was awkward for the pack, and the first few miles were sprint\brake\sprint\brake and very stressful.

Doug had given me some good ideas for strategy for the race, and my first goal was to make it past the surge down Thompson Peak and the initial sorting out. I almost got dropped somehow a few miles into Scottsdale road, I guess I got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, so an early test of my fortitude but I sprinted and caught the pack. Props to me for recognizing and committing.

Down Scottsdale, up Cave Creek and I was ready for the climb. No problems as we turned back south down Pima, and when we hit the climb up Dynamite I was ready and felt good. I guess we were around 25 miles in, but I had no chance to check the computer. The pack was big and lots of jockeying, or perhaps I am just a nervous squirrrely fuck and was truly the source of so many problems. whatever. it was a stressful place toe be.

After topping out on Dynamite, we dove down 9 mile hill. I was hitting my brakes way more than I though I should…I just expected the pack to take off. I couldn’t quite see the front and thought maybe the lead SAG car was holding us back. But I think the power of the pack just made it so easy to draft – when I pulled out of the pack I simply could not get over 35 into the wind, but in the pack i was brake tapping constantly. On we went through Fountain Hills, rolling up on 50 miles, and I was still with the lead group.

The pack broke up quickly going up the ~2 mile hill on Shea. I expected this would happen, and expected to get dropped, so I just settled into an aggressive climbing pace but one I felt I could sustain. I passed some people, and finally for the first time in 2 hrs turn around and looked over my shoulder. There were scattered riders behind, and scattered in front. For the next 5 miles, it was a sorting-out where I tried to jump into the fastest line I could, but had no idea what everyone else was doing. The line didn’t exactly work together – our rotation was more like a time trial which was plenty fast but didn’t seem very helpful. I just tried to hang on to whomever I could, and before too long we were down to 3. I was faster than the other 2 on the climbs, and almost dropped them on the last rolly section. But I figured it would be better for me to pull them and get breaks than to leave them. We scooped up about 5 other riders, and our little group seemed fresher than these stragglers whom I recognized from the lead pack. Onward we pushed, til finally I saw the finish line about a quarter mile ahead. I was pulling, and knew the other 2 would jump me, and sure enough they did. Whatever. The strategy worked for me and my time, and I would have done the same to them. In the end I did 2:54 and took 42nd overall out of over 500 dudes.

now back on the dirt!

The 3rd Annual Rancho Relaxo! Byron and I rode up Friday, got caught in traffic, picked up Kathi, got caught in more traffic, finally arrived, Kevin and Gary showed, ate spaghetti and stinky cheese, drank beer, agreed to get up early and avoid the storms.

We met Ray at the trailhead at 9am, hoping to get in a window of dry, or at least relative dry, before a storm that was supposed to rage all day.

Up Schultz in the rain, up Weatherford in the rain, waiting at the top of Weatherford in the rain.

Note that Alex is wearing a garbage bag. Vacation home in Williams but he couldn’t remember his 5$ slicker.

At this point, people’s faith in my route was wavering. While it was really more due to the storm, there was an equal amount of whining about an hour of climbing. Down Ricochet and all the negativity disappeared. DUH!

Going up Secret, past the log roll with the giant gap, I saw this awesome obstacle at the top of a short hike-a-bike. It was ungettable going up, but descending it made for a nice hit.

and yes I rode off the trail on purpose, to cut short the HAB.

The rain let up finally at the top of Supermoto and we played the whole way down, enjoying a sweet run out on the connector trails back to Schultz.

We got off the trail in just the nick of time, as 10 minutes on the drive back to Alex’s in Williams, the storm started in earnest. Up til now, we had had misting and some rain but nothing really miserable. This downpour lasted, on and off all night long. It did make pre-washing the bikes easier, however.

So trapped inside, we did what we do at Al’s Tours – drank ourselves retarted.

The next day we got going slowly, and then a bunch went out for breakfast, so we did not get on the trail til noon. I was displeased. Hammered up Schultz, up Little Gnarly in less than 15 min it always seemed longer, then Jedi.

Jedi was slick in some spots and a few of the steep chutes were dicey but I managed to keep it together. One “easy” section with a huge off camber exposure i center-punched a rock and scared the bejesus out of myself. but rallied for this photo woohoo!

We left about 2:30, but then got caught in a 15 mile backup north of Black Canyon City. unreal, the accident happened at 12 and we got there at 4 and still lost 1.5 hrs holy shit.

that’s right I said it! no sunscreen on my short ride this morning!!!!

Summer is finally over.

Fuck you, great hatefull ball of orange fire.

and while i’m on the subject, Fuck you Orange Hell and all the lesser-demoned orange smocks in your evil empire.

Byron & me; my office up Javalina up National to BV and back; like many other rides. except i got a whole lotta shit going up i have never gotten before. the Heckler going up is like one of those Cave trolls or mechwarriors in a movie – it makes a big power move, recovers, repeats. Riding it up goes BUMP, push off the rebound, CRANK! so different from the Blur. Soooooooo sweet on tech stuff. it is also the big leveller – I can climb like Byron and now am just as slow . i almost want to list the things i got over that i never get over, so i remember them fondly as soon they will stop being things i never got over. they’ve haunted me so, for so long, that i have a Helsinki syndrome thing for them. The big 4 rock lift near the start of the ridgeline – made it up to the 4th one for the first time. the big rock face – i think some people call it Bermuda Triangle, not that hard down, but I finally got up it. Byron was standing on it when i rolled by and said “dude I’ve never made this”. cool. the first big up step after the Mormon\National split – I make it about 50% of the time on the Blur, just rolled up and over easy today. and many more I can not recall, many bouncy and chummy sections that I make irregularly — all rolled under my wheels. WOW! very very cool. And of yeah, the rock on the way down that i have never made without sparks, i made without nothing. bash guard rules. it was a very quiet cruise down the ridgeline to the end, no claaaaaanging whatsoever. The only thing holding me back was the dark. We left about 5:45 and hit our lights about 7 at the Waterfall on the way up. Next time…i can’t wait to go faster next time.

This cherry done gone, all that remains is the bottle opener. Beckie better get her ass in gear and ride with me. My one gripe is the bike is collecting scratches and dings. and i’m so far up in the saddle the fork is taking a beating, and i need to get some stanchion guards. damn…its like talking about plastic surgery already. I need to get over this. But I don’t want to, it was so pretty. So very pretty and new.

The bike was coming…the vacation was accruing…the accrual was maxing…karma or just good luck? I HAD to take days off this week, no one could stop me without an HR stain to deal with, nothing could be more important, because clearly I had been saying that for the last 2 years. A wonderful, uncrowded, riding\camping, fall-in-love break in Flagstaff was required! Beckie said it was weird that I would go on my own for 2 days; I don’t get that? Talking to yourself does not make you crazy, it makes you interesting, though sometimes prone to oversights and lapses from reality; talking to your bike makes you a little crazy. I do the former, not the latter.

Let the story unfold.

2 big days, one bad endo, thunderstorms, hail, trashed mp3 player, misdirection, warm beer, drained car battery, some nice Flag people, and a lot of naughty bike love.

Day 1 – Hit the road after dropping G at daycare, and finally got riding around 12:15. Route (not all by intention) was Schultz-back to car-Schultz-Weatherford-Ricochet-Secret-half of Old Supermoto-back up to top on new Supermoto-back down on new Supermoto-Pipeline-Little Gnarly-Jedi-Schultz. 24 miles, 4:15 riding, computer said about 3300 feet of climbing.

Me, totemic Baby, and totemic Kila leaving Mesa

The Heckler at the start of Day 1

The 4 of us

Shot off up Schultz full of enthusiasm, only to realize 5 minutes later that I had not put gatorade in my water. Hmmm..? Onward I say! 1 minute later the battery in my player died. Hmmm..? Onward I say! 2 minutes later the backup battery for my player died. Fuck that back to the car! A short taste of down Schultz which I shall do twice more this weekend, and then a flat .25 miles from the car. Not entirely unsurprising, my front was flat after the Pass Mtn ride as well. But happily neither was due to us riding the cactus, that happened with like an hour and half of ride remaining and I didn’t flat then. Walking the last bit back to the car, i was good. This trip was going to be all about happy happy happy, i was gonna roll with the punches. So back at the car, I had a party hat and took care of my issues and set off again at 12:50.

Back up Schultz, and then I braced myself for the ugly climb up Weatherford. At least I didn’t get lost this time looking for the trailhead.

Ah Weatherford…1.75 miles of pure joy

pretty spot going up Weatherford

Weatherford still sucks!

meadow at the top of Weatherford

Talked at the top for a few minutes with a guy on a 29er who had flown past me on the way up Schultz. He came up Supermoto and maybe Secret too, then took the road to the top — sounded like a good but brutal route. He was finishing his loop by climbing Little Bear!

Down to Ricochet, and still managed to get confused on the trail a few times. But I was ready for the log drops. Hit the first one, then stopped to check out #2 immediately after and take some photos. Hitting these 2 back-to-back was a hoot!

#1

#2

#2

Then the ride started to suck. I came through a double rock roll onto about a 2 foot drop, didn’t go into it so smooth cause of the double rock, but had the front wheel on the ground and thought I was good. Next thing I know, the bike gets tugged from behind as apparently the rock had a funny upwards lip on it, and I’m badly surprised and going OTB. Nowhere to fall in the rock slot, and me and the bike get squished up against each other and the rocks. Bad scarring on the new bike, very bruised ribs for me Took me a sec to get my shit together and determine that no, my ribs were not broken. You can function almost completely with bruised ribs, they just hurt like fuck. Onward I say! But first, went back to get this slot again, and the second time knowing about the lip I just gave my back wheel a little boost and it was easy. Gotta know the trail, or you and your bike will pay the price.

oww, my anus

oww my fork!

aww fer crissakes! its only the 3rd ride!!!

The rest of Ricochet and Secret made me pretty upbeat again. Secret still had its ungettable climbs, but I was mentally in the right place for them. And I got log roll that ate my wheel in June. The big bike let me go between the big log and the little one. Sweet.

Happiness has returned

Then I got sorta lost and took the old Supermoto (big stupid bouldery pitch) instead of the new Supermoto (awesome flowy technical). Then the storm broke and I got hailed on. Then my mp3 player died in the rain. Finally I ran across a trail, which I followed down a few hundred yards and realized was the new awesome Supermoto.

the best way to pull out of a slump is to ride out…

29er guy climbed it, so could I…

And I did, and it was good. Onward I say! down new Supermoto from the top, and it was very very good.

Pipeline to Little Gnarly was short but crappy stupid steep rocky jeepy down and then pushing back up. But it ended soon. Up Little Gnarly and tired though I was the Heckler ate and chewed and soon I was at the top. Jedi was a hoot – much better my 2nd time on it, got most of the uphill off camber stuff I didn’t try last time. This is such a fun spur, and so easy to get to off the main Elden loop, I think its going to quickly become my new favorite Flag trail. The technical, followed by the easy fast whoopdees of Schultz feels so right.

meadow on Jedi, before the gnar

Schultz was faster than ever before – new bike smooths everything out. The rhythm gave me the balls to try the rock drop about a mile from the end of Schultz. It won’t make SportsCenter, but was a nice personal accomplishment to end the day.

Oh My God! I left the baby and the dog in the car!!!!!

I got to the campsite, about 5 minutes from the parking area, somewhere around 6:15. Unloading, flailing, cracking a beer and a party hat, flailing, laying out stuff to dry , turning on the truck for music and putting my mp3 player in front of the fan…and then bathing. This was a cold washcloth-based mexican-shower experience. The shiver would have been good in Phoenix, but was really just gratuitous and unpleasant in Flag after having spent the last 2 hrs riding wet. Some warm fuzzy clothes, cook up some food, more beer.

Life was good

So then I spaced, and zoned out with my pictures and my book, and at some point realized that the music had stopped playing. Oh Fuck! Yes indeed, I drained the battery. Stupid Stupid Stupid! STUPID!!!! Some panic, some reasonable thought, some self-flagellation, followed by more panic. Finally, I realized there was nothing to be done then, and maybe if I let it be it would start in the morning, or I would listen for cars and ask for a jump while getting ready in the morning, or I would ride and then sit on the road with my beer and ask for a jump until it was time to go.

Plan made, I drifted into an uneasy sleep. Mostly because my ribs hurt like fuck.

7am, up and in the car and lo it started. Now it was 7 and I was up way too early, with no prayer of returning to sleep. I had some tea. I packed my belongings. And I decided to lovingly caress…er, clean my new bike. It was beautiful dawn, a beautiful morning, and I would get a glorious early start to another long day. But something was rubbing my brake, and I began to worry I bent the triangle when I endo’d, and I fugged someting up with the hydraulic disc brakes (of which I was completely ignorant) trying to fix it. and after an hour and a half of farting around on tailgate of the truck, it was time for bike shops in town to open and me to get professional help, though the bike was clean and shiny again . Coffee Pedalers blew me off, but I begged the guys as Cosmic Cycles to tweak my brakes and get me mobile for the day. They were just opening, no one was in the shop, and I was ready to pay fat cash or drive back to Phoenix. $15 for 10 minutes of adjustments and a tube, and I was mobile — seemed like a very fair deal. Thanks Cosmic Cycles!!!!

Day 2 – Rocky Ridge-Lower Brookbank-Upper Brookbank-Hobbit Forest-Wasabi-road-Red Onion-Little Bear-Little Elden-Schultz. 3:45 spin time, 20 miles, about 3500 feet of climbing.

the 2 of us before Day 2

Rocky Ridge was fun, a lot of fun and the Heckler loved it and so did I, but you could see the effects of the monsoons on it and most of the other rutted climbs just like Weatherford. It was slow. Brookbank is penance for your sins, especially after 40 minutes huffing up Rocky Ridge. I was blown and stunk up climbing Hobbit Forest. This route is fun, but not, as the magnitude of the 1:45 climb and your difficult decision hangs over you: up to the towers, or down double-black Wasabi, or back down Hobbit and being a weak little girl. A storm that had been threatening was now closing in; I was not climbing to the towers. And I was not retreating back down Hobbit. Though this was not the best rhythm for my first time down Wasabi.

WOW WOW WOW! Wasabi was white knuckle. It was not a technical black run – this was a DH run. It started with a couple of big rock rolls right into a slot, and just kept getting scarier. I got about half of it – the easy half. But still was pretty psyched as it was a step up for me hitting some of those trials – one roll at the bottom went BUMP roll BUMP roll, turn and rollity-bump SHOOT. You had to hold enough speed for an 8 foot steep rollout, but control it enough to make the turn and not fly 10 feet off a rock. I begged off some of hardest stuff, and the trail was nicely set up to have go around. Some of it, however, was just steep and rutted and you simply had to stay off the breaks. Even these buff sections were scary scary fun, and I stepped up for sure in this one run. There was one time on a rutted slot the bike simply saved me, ida been hurt badly on the Blur. And again on a jump where I was way too nose down, the monster plush and tread and stability of the Heckler pulled me out of it. I don’t know how to jump, and I need to learn. Not a lot, just a bit. I don’t want to jump, I don’t want to get hurt. But my bike and my riding and my trail selection are hard enough that if I don’t learn to jump I’m gonna get hurt.

Short road climb from Wasabi to Red Onion, which was a perfect transition to let me burn out some adrenaline and settle down. Red Onion is a pretty, heavily wooded, steady but buff climb up mostly a drainage through thick wood — beautiful. Little Bear with the storm starting to hit me – the new bike is a big confidence builder on the steeps and chum and switchbacks of Little Bear. But lighting crashing around you is even more motivational. Climb out Little Elden, another faster smoother more confident unpopulated balls-out bomb down Schultz. And then home.

Good days. Some crappy stuff and bad weather, but I’m focusing on the good! Probably the 2 hardest back-to-back days I’ve done, the bike and I are bonding, my head got right, I am stronger for all the climbs with brake rub, and WASABI!!!!

Flag is, again, a super environment, full of friendly people, everyone says hi on the trails even the kids.

Heading home, I thought about the other cherry on the bike that needed popping: the rear drop out which doubles as a bottle opener. Bill, a usually taciturn fellow, gushed and said I would not really bond with her (he used the term her, not me, I see my bike as asexual) until I used the bottle opener. But no, that is the one thing I will share with Beckie. She did after all pay for half of it, and I think after almost 15 years if you want it to last you need to work to find things that are special to share. But now I think I understand what a man who believes in abstinence feels, on that night of his bachelor party at the strip club, thinking about his white wedding. “It’s going to look like the Helman’s factory exploded.”

Tired and weary, and having trouble breathing comfortably, but very happy I arrived home. G missed me, she wanted to help me wrench.

Dropped the bike at the shop the next day, and indeed the triangle was slightly bent. The awesome guys at Adventure got me back to pretty-good-enough, and I brought them a nice 6er form Trader Joe’s to say thanks for putting up with all my bullshit over the last few weeks. Its good, its getting back to the level of service I got before they moved locations. Somo is calling for next week. The final cherry is National, which should belong to Byron.

PS: Today, September 2, I taught G to say “bike.”

Met Byron at 6:30 with a wonderful overcast sky. I displayed, he admired, we rode. Byron had this wack idea that we should go counter-clockwise, cause he imagines that its not that bad and then you get to go down the north side. He has this fixation with the north side. Stupid north side bias, just wait for the 2 miles of babyheads.

We took Cat’s Peak, which I remember being kinda dull, and for the first little downhill it was, and i was vaguely annoyed that I ended up behind Byron after huffing and puffing to the trail head. and then when it flattened out, Byron dropped me on an xc stretch…go figure? There is a cool rockface up the back side of Cat’s Peak that I did not remember, and i flailed initially but then gelled with the Heckler and zoned in. Byron and I both cleared the steep summit, and shot down the slot on the other side. Then the baby-heads began.

It started just as switchbacks and washes, with more and more clutter in the trails, until gradually it was just a long slow uphill of cantaloupes and soccer balls. The Heckler kicked ass. It floated, swallowed, and chewed its way up everything. All the stability and squish let me stay centered and keep spinning. I couldn’t believe it was so smoothly climbing something I get pinballed on so badly on the Blur. The effort and fatigue was kicking my ass, but I was clearing everything, and dropped Byron. The bike just kept throwing punches and clawing uphill, as long as I could just keep spinning. Wow! I had it in my head for so long that big bikes won’t climb like little ones, and while I knew on paper how capable a bigger sloshy pivoting tech bike can be, to have it occurring underneath me was an epiphany. This was a big moment in our relationship together – $3500 of relief, joy, and a whole lotta whoopass poured out with the sweat on this soupy morning.

We came to a downed Saguaro, but the part laying on the trail was low on the trunk, and the needles had worn off. A Phoenix-style log drop!

Got it on the 2nd try.

Missed on the first attempt.

Byron’s chain ring.

Gouges left in the cactus

Onward, slowly up to the saddle. The bike performed nobly, but no one is riding that face up, though Byron went back and tried. I went back too, to come down the saddle! The rockface was easier, still scary but easier, but like yesterday on the Las Sendas staircase, I came too fast on the switchback and dabbed. pre-mature switchback-navigation? next time!

A big group passed us going down, and for about the 10th time someone said we were going the wrong way. seemed like he took a tone…like this way isn’t tough enough for ya? sorry, dick, we must have missed the sign at the entrance. Byron’s quip was the best “it’s my second lap.”

So after a party hat at the saddle, finally on to Byron’s ultimate mega favorite descent – he rode great. i rode like shit: between the on-off-on-off rhythm-breaker of the final climb to the saddle, and a couple shots I tried twice, and sliding sideways on kitty litter, and having had a party hat, and yielding to a horse — I did not ride so well. The bike continued to chew and spit all in its path, and the long rocky sections were a breeze, but the tight turns took some getting used to. The bike can do it, I realized, and after a few I started rolling into and up the rocks in the turns without really even having a line picked out – the momentum and the stability would get the Heckler through it. A few stretches I cleared that I almost never make, and my rhythm returned as we came off the north side and down the front to the Canyons. Good climbing and moving, both of us going fast, a few miles XC to wind down and build some strength. Sweet!

Alex and I had been trying to ride for awhile. I flaked on him last time, because it wasn’t fair to knock G outta bed and into daycare just so’s I could ride. Irregardless of intentions, I was in the hole, and we hadn’t hung out in a while. We set the ride before I knew the bike would be ready, and with the commitment hanging over me, I’d stayed up the night before making it so. A mild time on Hawes was the perfect test ride – not too hard, not too easy, and I knew every bump in the trail. When I told Alex the night before this would be The Cherry Popping Ride, he said he was flattered. As he should be, as well as annoyed; there would be plenty of whining, excuses, and both hemming and hawing.

Got up before 6 with some help from B and G, and I felt like shit with about 2 hrs sleep. I ain’t gonna lie, I wanted to flake. But riding is about pain, and coffee, and wake’n’bake. Smile for the cameras:

Rolling up to meet Alex, there was no escaping this bike was going to kick my ass today. It rolled slow, it accelerated slow, it was slow. Your quads are not supposed to burn after 2 minutes. That which does not kill me, makes me stronger…please let that be true.We jumped on the CAP trail, and the rolling was slow, but the handling was easy. Really really easy. I couldn’t really tell if we were going fast or not, but I wasn’t braking and Alex wasn’t dropping me. He needled me at the first hill leading into Pig Trail, and that was fair cause I thought I was gonna puke. Alex has an exquisite sense of needling.

The first downhill, I was rolling up on Alex without even trying. And he is usually a faster descender than me. But I paid for it on the uphill. And the damn seat was way to low, felt like I was riding a clown bike uphill. Tweaks, climbs, descents, and of course a quick stop to hit the jump at the 4-way (which Alex calls The Church) and I got more air and had a stabler landing than I ever have before. My psych on that carried me through the lame-ass connector trail climb. And down over the rock bridge and the cliff, yeah fuck yeah the downhill abilities were all that and more.

A massive dust storm last night was still hanging in the air, heating up the Valley fast. Alex had a deadline, so we headed back pretty early, and went back past Slim’s wash and up the connector and Saddleback. The downs were fast, the climbs were hard, but I started to realize that they were easier. The bike rolled slow, and was heavy, but it ate the terrain better than the Blur. It adjusted with the bumps, while the Blur kept you peddling steady. Both have their places, and I was thrilled they would ride so differently.

I was riding like a guy on a bike he is not used to. Hot, tired, dehydrated, hungry, and working too hard were all 100% true. but, there is that thing about not sucking…and Alex was giving me too much shit to quit. as I labored on, determined to ride myself out of this slump, the slander continued, culminating in Alex rubbing his front wheel on my back while I panicked “what the fuck is going wrong with my new pristine bike?!??”Bastard. I will get him, oh yes, RR3 in September gives me a month to stalk and plan, he’s going down.  

I didn’t quit. There is no time like the present to get strong, so we climbed up Saddleback and up Hawes. I got the entire Upper Mudflaps section, which even on the Blur I’ve only made a few times. Its loose, at pitch, with waterbars…the Heckler likes terrain. But not me, I bonked at the top. But I made it.

We finished up with the Staircase at the top of Las Sendas. Descending was easy, and i almost was going too fast to make the turn at the bottom. The Blur on that part goes “bang bang bang pick pick bang, pucker, turn”, the Heckler was “bup bup bup, oh shit I gotta turn!” Down the wash, and Alex took off for home. I went back to hit the trials again. Second time down the staircase I was ready for the speed and the turn – there was a rock at the bottom that on the Blur I’d try to avoid in order to creep through the turn. I just rolled right at in on the Heckler to make the angle. Niiiiice.

Let it rip down Hawes and Mudflaps and tried to catch air and hold speed. The air was caught without hardly trying, this bike has like 6 inches more pop on everything. I am still a pussy going fast, but at least dropped a tampon size and took the descent faster than ever.

Back home i wrote down a buncha notes before I even took off my gear.

• Seat – move up a bit. how to mark seat? move it back a bit?
• Peddles – check right cleat.
• fork – compression dampening at 100, might be softer?rebound feels good at 100,compression is most open, feels good. blow off – set at 3.5? didnt use it
• shock – Sag was set at 18. Bill says a lighter guy wants more sag. shock numbers are weight and rate, so 2.8 rate and 350 is weight
• bars – good width. the metal caps are a nice way to protect the ends
• gears – rubbing when crossed up, if you can call 2 -> 1 crossed.Which is pretty much where I spent most of the morning’s ride.

Went to the shop to get the shifting and shock issues resolved. Got the bike in one hand and the bag with the jersey in the other, and the moment he sees the bag (no jersey visible, mind you, just a squishy-looking bag) Bill says “you want to exchange that for a large, cause the Louis Garneaus are a size small.” ME: “yeah, you coulda told me that yesterday”. And as I’m at the shirt rack, a giant cop dressed all in black with all his gear comes pounding out of the dressing room — actually he was not pounding whatsoever, but was rather nimble for a big man, but to say “walking” when seeing an elephant move up close is simply not accurate. Adventure supplies many Gilbert bike cops.

ME: “I hope they let you wear something lighter when you’re riding.”

GIANT COP: “shorts.”

ME: “I’m sorry to hear that bud.”

GIANT COP: smiles at me, happy he was being treated like just another rider, says “thanks man” and pats me on the shoulder as he walks out.

ME: fly headlong into rack of jerseys.

Bill fixed up the bike, and I learned like 10 things in like 10 minutes talking to those guys. It helps when you have relevant, intelligent questions and are a professional at not-asking-the-same-question-twice. Getting all this bought, built, and set has been drinking from the damn fire hose, and my head hurt. A few more notes, and I was out ahead of schedule. Time for a beer at Indigo Joe’s to let this beautiful orgy of bike love sink in, and then go pick up G.

• Shock travel is 2.5. SC recommended 15mm, Fox says 25% which is .65 inches, or about 16mm. spring is the right one, shock is right. rebound feeld ok. try letting air out of chamber to make it softer, but ride it some more.
• keep an eye on maxel cap dont let it get too loose. the other side can overcompensate and make it seem attached when it can wiggle off – can’t replace just the cap. .
• ride it for awhile and dont change anything. xc riders start by liking it stiff. but i think i want it softer?

The Heckler finally showed up on Tuesday. We thought it showed up last week — Bill at Adventure gave me a call, then 5 min later called back and said it was a Superlight in the box instead. DOH! But this time there was no mistaking. Giddy with happiness, I loaded the parts into a box and stopped in first thing on Wednesday morning. The frame was beautiful, the color was awesome, and the details and workmanship that went into the frame were apparent right away — lots of nice, smart little touches. Especially compared to some of the silly things on the Blur and Superlight, it was nice to see the little changes over a few years — shows SC ain’t big fat and happy. The frame felt great in my hands, but so do most of ’em — it continues to amaze me how light and precise a good frame feels, belying the power it will soon have.

Thursday mid-day, Bill calls, and I know there is a catch. The RP23 shock we thought would fit, would not, and there are none to be had from SC or Fox. So I hemmed and hawed and weight-weenied and ultimate went with the DHX 5 coil. It will add a pound, but will add another degree of toughness to the bike. The remaining option of the base level Float R shock would not have options enough to help with this sloshy bike on varying all-mountain rides. It will probably overbuild the bike for me, but who knows I might need that soon enough, as I was catching more air on my first ride then I ever have before.

Earliest I could get to the shop was 5, which meant lots of other customers. Oh well… A test ride in my shoes and pedals, and what can I say the bike showed its nature even in the parking lot. I immediately could feel the stability and deeper travel. Just bunny hopping in the lot I could pick up the bike higher and be more stable than on the Blur. But it was slow, slow rolling due to the Nevegal tires and the sloshiness. Details…

We took off the big ring, which will fit the Blur. Yea!!! actually making some money back in parts! and it came with a chainstay guard too! alas, just last week I put a new big ring on the Blur, not sure if the Heckler’s would fit and finally ready to give the Blur a freshy now that it won’t much be back on technical rides, oh and the chain was completely slipping. The ring will be used eventually, I had 4 old ones sitting in a shoebox awaiting their future lives as windchimes. The bash guard in the shop was heavier than I’da liked, but that seems to be the cost of real protection. We’ll see next time I ride lower National and hit the unclearable-without-sparks rock that I have yet to clear without sparks. Some tweaking to the front deraileur took more time still, but I got to watch the work and learned a thing about the cranks and ring bolts.

Finally got it dialed in, got my extra parts while in the window-of-maximum discount, including a gratuitous but cool looking Adventure jersey. Price came out almost exactly like I figured. Assuming the parts sales go as planned, it will all end up at about $3550 for the whole deal including shoes, pedals, fork upgrade and related work. I could have save maybe $250 in tax and costs by buying online. I don’t think its worth it, support your LBS, though I’m torqued so much of my extra money goes to the gubament.

A quick stop at Trader Joe’s was required, cause if I get home late AND drop 3k I gotta at least ply Beckie with some Mackeson’s sweet stout. She was appreciative, and made salad while I got everything unloaded and sorted and caught up on work for a couple hours. While I did stay up til 3:30 screwing with the bike, in fairness, I worked on work work til 11 when I finally cracked a beer and opened up the shock manuals.

When I finally hit the garage around midnight, the first thing I desperately wanted to know was how goddam much it weighed. But first, I thought I should frame the questions by figuring out what the Blur weighed. Perhaps I would not be so sad.

29 lbs, will drop 2 with new tubes, wheels and tread

This led to further curiosity and investigation.

Superlight – 29.5 lbs – tubes, G’s bracket will drop 2 lbs

Roadie – 21 lbs

Beckie’s Roadie – 24.5 lbs

32.5 lbs

tiny

I had a bitch setting up the spring and getting the sag right, the instructions were confusing as hell and measuring sag by yourself in a sticky garage is far from scientific. Took me an hour on reverse engineering with giant springs and nuts to come close, and in the fracas the Heckler got its first scratch.

This is, naturally, a place it would otherwise be incredibly unlikely to get a scratch. It was as unnecessary as when Jo gave G her first scar on her paw. Went to the shop later to get some help, and the sag turned out to be 18mm, which was really just about perfect for my weight.

The fork was far easier. thankfully, cause I was fading. Alex and I were committed to riding in the morning, and I felt that the bike would get fair shake and I’d get some useful info out of the first ride.