I had a weekend to myself, and wanted to be alone, to see what quiet is like again, to see if 2 days in my own head would kill me. It didn’t, but it made me very tired. Very very tired so that i was tired the whole next week. I had no revelations or epiphanies, no new promises, no deep discoveries, other than my capacity to plan and endure, in an off-the-couch way. Riding is good, training is dumb. Tridorks’ general uselessness is hidden just under the surface of their A-type personalities.  Maad told me that. He also told me that sometimes you don’t have to be having fun to have fun. I blame him and thank him for this uselessness.

New bags and a new portable battery, I spent the whole week getting ready – gps, calorie count, warm gear, hydration, wrenching and fresh sealant. It all being so routine to so many of my friends, yet so challenging to me, kept me quiet and humble and focused. And anxious. While the family spun off the walls about their trip to Disney World, I thought about socks, HAB, bailouts, the cold, the mud, and my Quiet Place. I started into my Quiet Place Thursday night. I left Flag at 8am Saturday and laid my bivy at 9pm on top of Sedona. All day I was never idle, always cramming food in my piehole or studying the gps, planning, adjusting, compensating. The details are amazingly boring, and the highlights of the ride blend into a patina of…noice and noize and niiice. In the coupla weeks since i’ve felt more connected, alive, thinking, healthy.

Gnome told me the day before: festina lente. He didn’t say it in Italian, or even much in english, which is typical for him.   That’s gnomish wisdom, and   you can’t buy that shit in stores.

125 miles, 11k vf, 16.5 hrs moving over 2 days, no mistakes and no mechanicals. My stats are not exemplary, but that’s solid planning and execution. i’m such a geek.

Kelly Pocket at 2 hrs. So glad I finally got a chance to ride this, it winds its ways down a mild canyon

rare fall riding for me

Humphreys from somewhere southwest of Munds Park, 3 hrs

are you hooked?

i dig the amount of effort combined into a short period, the intensity of it, the undertaking. Purchasing some key gear will swap out so much of the suck. I spent $300 on 4 fabulous pieces of gear after my first trip. Xmas is coming and i have a list. Yes, I’m hooked.

Following the powerlines out to the end of Casner Mtn into red rock country

Looking back to Flag

the loaded bike made the rubbly descent easier than i remembered

I cleared Casner Mtn at 5 hrs and 41 miles.   The trek east to Sedona took 2 more hrs, then 4 more endless hours over 10 miles of singletrack.   During the   Casner Dirty Century i bailed on the back half of this, but was determined to do it this time, knowing it would push me down like the oncoming shadows. Sedona is slow, slow work down frivolous staircases and up other sides, hugging buttes and sliding off them, in lowest gears. The trails are so well built and so interesting, so full of constant progress they bely how little progress is really being made. The red rock engulfs you at sundown, fading from scarlet to firebrick to rosewood. You glow on the inside.

I was calm rolling into my resupply at twilight, before the last push to camp. I’d had so much time to accept climbing Schnebly Hill in the dark, i was ready — stoked even — for its 2k and 4miles of exhaustion straight into my sleeping bag.  Mentally, i prebailed on some of the ride tomorrow, using that for fuel against the heartrace and dehydration abusing me today. As long as I didn’t stop, I’d still get 9 hrs of sleep.

At the store I bought a gallon of water, a quart of chocolate milk, a tallboy, a bag of trail mix, and two bananas. Perfect dinner. I sink showered the sludge off my face and hands,repacked, redressed,  and plugged my gps into the battery backup. For the next 2 hrs i only saw its screen, the butte rising slowly to my left, and the cliff to my right. The moon lit all i needed to see of the road as i clawed upwards. I’d try to spin for 5 minutes, or around a turn the gps showed up ahead, and find a very small victory in each quarter mile. Best thing about climbing Schnebly in the dark is there are no pink jeeps to cropdust you.

Meanwhile, the family was at Disney World!

Finally, I stopped. cheers Sedona!!!

i did not find a good spot in the dark. In fact, it was my worst night outside ever. Rocks pushed into my hips, bruised my scapula, my right knee revolted after 2 scopes prevent it from fully straightening, and the other leg cramped when straight or bent. It was 43 outside, and the bivvy smelled like chocolate milk farts, the riding gloves I still wore to keep warm, and Maad’s beard. At 4:30 i’d finally slept 30 min straight. I gritted, fantasized and ached until 6:30 when riding promised to hurt less than laying down, and forced myself forward.

I finished my milk and tallboy scanning what I missed coming up.

Wake up Sedona!!

I ploughed forward for an hour, another hour, always thinking about the finish. 6 hours today seemed so doable, on jeep roads and debris-filled doubletrack, until i ejected onto the road at Mormon Lake, bypassing 4-5 hrs of singletrack on the Arizona Trail I knew i could not complete. I ate, smoked, popped an oxycodein, put on my headphones for the first time.

For such a shitheel accomplishment, this post is very gushy. I know a lot of very nice humble STRONG people who do so much more.  I read a post from the guy who set the record for the Colorado Trail Race, 4 days and 30k vf with 20 minutes sleep over heroic challenges — it was amazing, and went ‘hours’ at a time without a word in the narrative; it had less words than this post.I’m like my kids cheering on about something. G designed her first pumpkin carving, yaaaaaay her, it was sweet, it kept her fired up all night, it was so much fun.  When i hit a 20 mph headwind 3 miles from the end, and pedaled up a 1% graded sidewalk into it, and then got off and walked, i knew only the hardest of hard muthafuggas could have managed that hill. It kept me fired up for two weeks.

March 20, 2013 – alt dropin to HiLine in Sedona

This appeared on my FB wall, 5 months later. Thank you, Gary from Ohio!

Entirely different than last year as line work was almost negligible. I think I was in worse shape, but 8.75 hours and 7500 vf almost-alone will do that to you. At 80 miles I reeled thinking of 3 more hours. I ate everything i had, didn’t quit only cause there was no alternative, still surprised i didn’t just topple over empty.

The ground was lush. The big climb at mile 53 started at 93 degrees, but was 63 at the top as a thunderstorm roiled before us.   We waited 10 min for it to blow past the road we hit 10 min later, and continued to skirt storms for 6 hours, the worst we got were spray off the roads and a little sprinkle.

Here is an snip from a local journal about hiking to the Lookout, along Tom’s Thumb and East End trails.

“Consider your journey to be an opportunity for solitude and contemplation. If you are not one to hike by yourself, this might be the time to do it and focus on your inner communication. If hiking is always a group activity for you , consider setting some ground rules. No conversation outside of what the hike inspires. No long drive necessary. No high clearance vehicles required. Enjoy the opportunity for solitude right in your own back yard.   If you choose to take this journey, do not hurry. This is a hike to linger upon. Go to the Lookout to enjoy the jourey as well as the destination. Linger at the top. Contemplate. Go there to sit and think. Be peaceful with yourself. Revel in knowing that among millions in our urban sprawl, you are in a place that belongs to the milleniums [sic]. You are in a place that, because of the forethought of local residents, will have a future shaped by the eternal forces of nature.”

This article cracked me up, in light of recent posts about some over-zealous folks and their exclusive view of how one should enjoy nature. Its not a holy pilgrimage where i must make burnt offerings; solitude is shared with hundreds of others coming up the trail behind me or before me. Maybe my generation expects to be outside, at least compared to some older people or transplants who didn’t grow up with the outdoors as part of their culture. Or are lifetime indoor-jobbers. I don’t know if I should be charitable or thankful or pitying people so surprised what they’ve missed all along they think they must wrap it up in a museum.

Riding is part of my life several times a week, being outdoors every day is part of my biorhythm and i can’t imagine it not being so, just as i can’t imagine not having my girls and my wife. Like parenthood or marriage, so much of the beauty is deconstructing the parts to grow closer to the greater whole.   How do erosion and weather patterns require changes in balance and power to meet the results of runoffs down 20% grades? If I flow like water, how will i react to golfball and baseball size rocks filling the ruts? Keeping time plots our subjugation to nature’s changes, and its so much more fun with music and friends and   screaming relief after   a hard switchback, tinkling at the summit, and stopping at the tequila tree before I’m done. I rolled the Firebird up Tom’s Thumb at 5am, so I could have a tool to live alive in meat space. I suffered, it was fun, i hit the dh better than i’ve ever done and it had me grinning all day.

First bikepack!

Thanks James for the loaner gear.

Kickoff at Mother Road. Gnome, Gordon, Yuri, Flo.

First night camping outside Walnut Canyon, with all the beer we could carry. Thanks Yuri for the pics, many more on his site.

3 hrs on the AZT

several pitchers at the Mormon Lake Lodge

camping night#2

Must.go.gearshopping.

Imagine me, pumped and flexing like a Spartacus Season 1, foaming at the mouth, breathing fire, tearing limbs off the awful evil empire Big Red S. Blood in the street, quality triumphs over price-point, marketing driven back in holy war against engineering.

but

*yawn*

That is really played. Especially for $21 shipped to store, next to the gym. I challenge anyone to find a better 20″ 2.1 mildly-directional dry-conditions mtb tire. The dipshits in Specialized’s marketing dept probably built it thinking parents think it looks cool. They don’t know what they got. Slicks or bmx tread are 95% of the available inventory, the rest is too knobby. Its the closest thing I’ve found in 20″ to a WTB Exiwolf, Bronson, Weirwolf, a Nevegal or a High Roller or Ignitor.

The Hotrock is about $75 too much, but is still my favorite kids bike. Even if I had to replace the crankset cause the plastic chainguard sheared off the steel rings, leaving it dangerous to do otherwise. They warrantied it, of course.   Multiply that ratio of 75\325 by about…14, the amount Specialized rips your off for a real bike, and you can quantify how much   disgust and discount i will tolerate to ride with my tinyShredder.

I’ve seen this plant a bajillion times, but never the fruit. On the west face of the McDs, a few min below Tom’s Thumb. Bunches of them.   It was about 85 when i rolled past at 9am, i think about average for this time of year.

ADDENDUM

Its a banana cactus!