A New Kind of Epic

Returning from AZT Recon Mission #2 last week had me smiling as I looked back at ten days on which I could never put a price. From 78 degree days in the desert on flowy, sweet singletrack and the snowy, windy hike-a-bike of Oracle Ridge in Arizona to Telluride, ice falls and the steep slopes of the San Juans, I savored every second of the diversity, beauty and adventure encountered on this epic excursion.

First, some of the lighter moments:

And, now the rest of the story!

Day 1 began at 3AM as I removed the work shackles and finished up some last minute packing prior to heading to the airport. Destination: Tucson International. I slept from wheels up to wheels down and got off the plane a bit groggy. I soon found the perfect couch to crash for about an hour as I waited for my cohort in crime to pick me up.

With two huge grins and notions of epic to ensue, we set out for Patagonia to retrieve my gear I had stored. I knew I was back in southern AZ as this sign was everywhere....Yes, this is an AK-47 and no, it is not mine:

We set up camp just outside of Patagonia that night and the next morning after some quick bike assembly, we started the first day of riding near Kentucky Camp. Riding rollercoaster-like double track dirt roads for about an hour, we caught the official AZ Trail and after some rolling singletrack, pictures and good conversation with a couple of old cowboys, we railed some sweet downhill switchbacks. Crossing sandy riverbeds, climbing steep, loose trail and finally topping out on a hill full of cactus, I got a great feel for the sections paralleling Highway 82. I felt strong on the bike and generally had fun with all the ups and downs. This section is much easier and faster to ride than the Canelo Hills portion I had ridden a couple weeks before.

Later that afternoon, we decided to split up and I continued on to I-10, exited the trail and started heading south on 82, keeping my eyes peeled for a black Tundra coming north to pick me up. The evening sun was lazily dropping behind the Santa Ritas and a serene, brilliant Arizona sky beckoned from the west.

Flat total: Steve 1…Jill 0

Crash total: Steve 0…Jill 1 (minor downhill crash, cut up right knee…meh..not too impressive)

We hit up some much appreciated showers in Tucson then up to 8K’ to Summerhaven. Twisting and winding up the highway gave great views of the lights of the city below. We found a good camp spot and had a cooler loaded with fresh veggies, chicken and aluminum foil to cook in the campfire. Our grandiose dinner expectations were doused when 47 mph winds shook the truck. Summoning the motivation to brave the cold gusts, we unloaded bikes and gear, jumped into warm, down sleeping bags and were one with the wind (ha!) as we dozed off in the bed of the truck.

Hoping our old friend the wind had left the next morning, we sat up and were greeted by this:

The wind decided to stick around for the rest of the day and accompany me on the section of the trail I wanted to ride the most—Oracle Ridge. Starting just off the highway, it immediately climbs up a steep, rocky hillside. Traversing upward, I was stunned by the view. The trail continued to climb through trees, bushes and was soon snow-covered. I hovered back and forth between riding and hike-a-bike for awhile. The trail got steeper, rockier and a bit muddy and I carried and pushed my bike for quite awhile through many unrideable sections. The wind was relentless and many times I was pushed completely off the trail as I pedaled along. Once on top of the ridge, I was in complete awe of the state for which I previously had no desire to visit. The exposure of the ridge let the wind rip through me and I found myself snickering as I picked first myself up and then my bike off its side. Yep, a huge gust completely tipped me over right into a nice, hard rock.

Near the beginning of the Oracle Ridge Trail

Along the windy ridge

At that point, I was over all this fun in the wind and retreated back to the highway and the smart one who was napping in the truck waiting for me. Plans for a night ride were drawn up and Steve rocked an 18 mile descent of Mt. Lemmon on his mountain bike. We parked near I-10 that evening, packed up and were treated to pure, sweet, sugary singletrack through the saguaros. The sky was perfectly clear and the stars were enormous. The moon was like the grin of a Cheshire cat and I soon entered a blissful trance as we sailed through the peaceful desert. The ride was effortless, my bike seemed to propel itself and I honestly can’t remember ever contracting a muscle to pedal. We rode along for miles and came to some rocky ups and downs. The rocks on this section were gnarly, tricky and jagged. I heard a loud thud just behind me and Steve was holding his knee. OUCH. No bueno.

Seemingly alright, we went on a little farther until he noticed a good stream of blood that had run down his shin. This cut was definitely more impressive on the carnage scale than mine, so we cleaned it up and decided to hunt for a good spot to camp for the night.

Deemed the Saguaro Suite, we cleared away rocks, unloaded the bike packs and laid out sleeping bags. I climbed into my emergency bivvy that I have opted to be part of my gear and setup for the race and fell asleep under the desert sky. Christened the Chipotle Burrito, here is a look at the luxury accomodations we procured for the night:

A Chipotle Burrito in the Saguaro Suite

Flat total: Steve 1…Jill 0

Crash total: Steve 1.5…Jill 1  (extra points for impressive carnage given)

We finished out the section until we met up with the Old Spanish Trail. Nearing Saguaro National Park, the trail and scenery were amazing. We tore downhill, through narrow switchbacks and were surprised with some fun technical rocks. A minor run in with a branch and one more flat had the totals looking like this that afternoon:

Flat total: Steve 2…Jill 0

Crash total: Steve 2.75…Jill 1 (Huge, multicolored bruise garners extra points as well)

Leaving Tucson in the sunset, we started north that evening and camped in Show Low, AZ. Hungry and anxious to finally try our hand at gourmet campfire cookery, we pulled into a roadside camping spot. We soon discovered we had the entire area completely to ourselves. The weather was perfect again and the breeze was barely noticeable. A bottle of Crown found its way onto the tailgate as we started a huge fire, cut up veggies and chicken and cooked them in the fire pit.




The Crown level dwindled slowly, the music may or may not have gotten louder and we had our first experience with a campfire-cooked cactus leaf.

Verdict on the cactus leaf: ehh, not so great. Lacking flavor.

The chicken and every-kind-of-vegetable-imaginable dinner was fantastic. We crashed out and woke up the next morning to continue on the long drive to the San Juans. Red Box DVDs helped the miles pass quickly and we stopped at the Four Corners National Monument. Everyone stands in the four states at the same time, but who pedals across four states simultaneously?

This girl:

More pictures from just south of the Four Corners area:

Need a horse? I am thinking you could get a great deal on these roaming alongside the road

The scenery drastically changed as we continued north into Colorado:

Silverton, CO

Red Mountain Pass just outside Ouray

Questionable avalanche conditions and time (ugh!) unfortunately prevented the epic trip planned into Chicago Basin, but the alternative route we chose was nothing short of gorgeous and inspiring. Lunch reservations at 10K’ proved to be amazing as expected:



Snow doughnut!



Telluride was the previous day’s destination. I could go on for pages and pages about the perfect beauty of this sleepy little town (song lyrics borrowed a little J). Bikes were the choice mode of transportation and we even took them up the gondola and rode around amongst the snowboarders and skiers.

A few strange looks came our way and we seriously considered bombing down Telluride Trail (a blue run) in the snow, but being in street clothes and lacking any helmets or gear, we decided to leave the crash total numbers unchanged and hit the gondola for a ride back down.

Finishing out the day in Telluride:

We then returned to Ouray and soaked tired legs in Orvis Hot Springs.

Leaving my favorite corner of the planet was the low point of the trip, but it was time to grind slowly back to reality. We made our way to Fruita, camped in the open space and rode Kessler’s up to Zippity Doo Da. Two thirty-something 10-year olds played in the Colorado sun for a couple hours on that warm Friday morning. Steve absolutely owned some crazy downhills and I managed the nerve to get one of the three big ones conquered. Take-home message: If you bike, RIDE THIS TRAIL!

Time (double ugh!) was again a factor and soon we were headed east to Denver to the conclusion of an EPIC journey.

Using words such as incredible, amazing or stunning doesn’t capture the million perfect and priceless moments from this trip and all those from the hundreds of adventures prior. My eyes and my carefree heart lived, dreamed, inhaled and became part of the simplest things, such as:

Watching the moon start as a sliver in the sky and every night watching it change before my eyes.

Each new color in the sky and in the dirt below my tires.

The wrinkles on the face and tears in the dress of the old Indian woman in front of the decrepit post office in northern Arizona.

The sound of each red-hot ember as it exploded from the camp fire outside Patagonia.

The deer tracks along the snowy slope.

Drinking sweet, crisp mountain air into my lungs.

The refreshing taste of the cold snow on my lips in the hot sun.

The warmth of a down jacket inside a frost covered sleeping bag.

My cold toes tingling as I stepped into the hot springs and the fading away of time.

The stinging burn of the red jalapeno pepper on my tongue and my resulting dance around the fire.

The true freedom I felt every second.

Being fully appreciative of the present.

Tasting, touching, smelling authenticity.


Being aware, alert and active rather than just slipping into the grind of everyday and going through the motions to get by defines who I am. This is my life. I get one trip around and I will intensely pursue my passions, love, laugh, be silly, live freely and find meaning in what I experience.

I will always cherish the simplicity, the minimalism and the minute details of this trip as much as the big miles, the climbing and the elevation. In these ten days, my search for EPIC was satisfied mostly by the simple, perfect beauty of everything around me, from desert cholla to mountain crevasses...

A Preview...

Home from chasing epic in the desert by bike and the San Juans by snowshoe. Ten full days of adventure. Sunrises. Bikes. Sunsets. The Moon. Singletrack. Telluride. Tucson. Cacti. Wind. Skunks. Sun. Show Low. Campfires. Mt. Lemmon. Sleeping Bags. Hot Springs. Crown. Horsethief. Mountains. Rocks. Feral Dogs at Gas Stations. Ice. Pine Trees. Four Corners. Ouray. Fruita. Cheese Bagels and Hummus. Oracle Ridge. Million Dollar Highway.....and Butterflies.

The list could go on and on and I am working on a full blog entry. Along with all the adventure, the activities, the training, the miles and the trails; the diversity and the beauty of Colorado and Arizona had  me speechless more than a few times. The simplicity of nature is so perfect. The rays of sunshine danced on my lips as I inhaled desert air at 2K' and then crisp mountain air at 10K' a few days later. I am truly humbled, blessed and thankful to have the opportunity to be a part of it in an EPIC way. I would not change a thing about the last ten days.

A few preview pics:

Logging Some Miles

A whirlwind week of planning, mapping and work has left me with less than 24 hours before I head south again. My gear is stored in Patagonia, AZ, so this means no marathon packing sessions. My bike and a backpack are all that is going on the plane. Ahhh, I do love simplicity.

Three days bikepacking on the AZ Trail.

Again, if you want to track:

SPOT Page

Then on to the San Juans in southwestern Colorado. Mmmm, I have not been in my favorite corner of the earth since September and I hear the mountains calling everyday.

 Monitoring the Avalanche Danger daily, with alternate routes on standby.

Arizona desert. Colorado high peaks. Mountain bikes. Camping. Snowshoes. Crampons. Ice Axes.

All to culminate with a soak of tired muscles and the chance to marvel at the surrounding peaks here:

Orvis Hot Springs


Onslaught of photos and video to follow in a week.

Climbing the Walls

Laying low for the last two days. Leg needs to heal.

Cut off the bike for another day.


ARGGGGHHHH!!!!

Went for a walk through the crowded streets of downtown Morrison and saw this guy:

I learned he was the town mascot. Gets handfed hot dogs from the gas station.

And that's all I can think of to say about the last three days.

Thrilling.

AZ Trail Adventures

Monday night after the race, I was treated to an epic Arizona Sunset:

From my luxury suite in the Parker Canyon Mountain Hardware Hotel:

Plans for a 3 day excursion on the Arizona Trail after racing 24 OP turned into a 1 day, 31 mile ride at touring pace. My legs were a bit tired from the race and money (sigh) had a role in the slight plan change also, but such is life, right? I am very thankful to have gotten great weather this past Tuesday as I set off from my camp at Parker Canyon Lake.

Parker Canyon Lake TH

My SPOT Track Progress Map of the route is here.

The Border Patrol made about six passes through the parking lot at the trail head where I was camped Monday night. My ancy black lab was as ready to be out of the car and on the trail as I was. So, for lack of anything else to do, we cruised around to expend some pent up dog energy, notching 3 or 4 miles of (pre)pre-riding.

The next morning, loaded with 90% of what will go with me for the real deal in April, I left a little after 10 AM. Rocky, loose trail coupled with fast, wide hardpack gives a good picture of the first section. I decided I was going to move at an easy pace, take pictures and just navigate along. The whole point of this was to become familiar with the trail and the terrain and get used to riding with more weight from my gear.

Typical AZ Trail terrain

Soon I entered the Canelo Hills and did a fair bit of hike-a-biking. The steep ascents were loose, sandy and had tons of rock that was simply not ridable. I found the hike-a-bike to be relatively easy, but soon found myself just wanting to ride for more than 3 minutes before another big climb.

Many hills that look like this

I met the Border Patrol on a double track descent and stopped for about 15 minutes to talk with them. I learned a lot about safety issues on the trail and just chatted about mountain biking in general. I have to admit, until I came to Arizona, I have never really thought twice about illegal immigrants. Something new to consider on return trips for sure. I am by no means paranoid, but now more aware.

Yeah!

My next encounter with another trail user came as I was ripping down a long, rocky, winding hill. I hit my brakes hard to miss the four or five goats (yes, that’s right, GOATS) that were bedded down under a tree. I heard their bells as they ran right over the top of their owner who was napping in the shade. I heard two dogs bark and jump up and I slowed to a stop.

Joe was the fellow’s name. He was from Montana and had his goats packed with his gear. No halters, leads or anything. "You couldn't run them off if you tried, " he told me. By Joe's side were two gorgeous black labs who immediately owned my heart. Twenty or thirty minutes of good conversation later, I was back to pedaling along.

Joe, his labs and pack goats

I soon came to Canelo Pass and the trail completely changed. It became mostly a wide, fast double track through a meadow. There were many sandy riverbed crossings and a little route-finding, but my GPS tracks were dead on and the trail was marked very well. (Great job, Arizona). I opened and closed a million gates, cruised through herds of cattle, met two women riding horses that asked about my fear of drug runners and wanted to follow along for a while and finally came to some hills where I encountered some more hike-a bike sections.

Rolling through an open meadow

Wishing for a rope (haha, maybe not)

After opening and closing a few more gates, I came to a steep, narrow, loose downhill. Deciding to ride a bit conservatively, I elected to put a foot down on some of the sketchy sections and walk my bike down a couple of nasty looking switchbacks. I came to Harshaw Rd right about 5 PM with one helluva sunburn and was ready for some good grub in Patagonia.  

Looking back on 31 miles in the sun

I really wanted to continue riding on past Patagonia the next day, but I had to return home back to the work grind. I have to be honest in saying that I don’t appreciate the inherent beauty of the desert even a fraction as much as I do the Rocky Mountains, but I am always up for exploring new trails and riding all kinds of terrain and conditions. My setup worked nicely. Steep descents weren’t an issue with my seatbag being so high, although I am going to fine tune the straps to eliminate the small amount of sway that did occur. I kind of anticipated this and took an extra strap along. I am pretty stoked that my gear is really light and I didn’t notice the added weight really at all. There were a few times as I was pushing my bike I would notice the presence of the seatbag, but barely enough to mention.

My shoes need some arch support which I will add when I return in March and I am still on the hunt for a top-tube bag that I like. Other than that, I am not going to change much on my next pre-ride on March 5^th. This trip will include two overnights, so I will be packing more food.

Take-home impression:

I really dig this bikepacking thing.  

True story: I came across this about 1/4 mile from the exit point...hmmmm, epic gnomes abound? 

Stay tuned for more coming your way in early March....

24 Hours in the Old Pueblo...3rd Place in my 3rd race

Thursday, February 17, 2011.

Bikes loaded.

Gear packed and ready.

Wheels in her normal co-pilot position.

Tucson, here we come.

A long, 14 hours later, we arrived in Tucson ready to ride in the desert as part of the 24 Hours in the Old Pueblo.

Tucson sunset from the city

This was my third official race ever and my first crack at a 24 hour duo. The course was located just north of Tucson and was approximately 16 miles long. After meeting up with Erick, his wife, Jen, and their friend, Kevin, we constructed what was to be our “home” for the next couple days in the desert.

Erick and Jen

Camp EPIC

Soon after the palace was complete, Erick and I set out on a pre-ride to discover the kind of riding that was in store for us for the next 24 hours. Arizona riding is so different from riding here in Colorado. Flat, fast, hardpacked, and “flowy” trails greeted our tires. We cruised up, over and down the “bitches” (Five aptly named, very short, but steep hills in the middle of a wide double track) and then hit fast, cacti lined singletrack for the next 10 miles. The last 2.5 miles contained a gradual and sustained climb to a saddle just above TentTown. From this saddle, it was all downhill splendor to the exchange tent. Ahhhh, this section was the sweet, sugary icing—no quads required—just rail like you are 10 years old again!

Rockin' the rock..

Cruisin' the cholla





Jen fed us pasta for dinner and after a good breakfast the next morning, we were ready to play bike racer for a day. I racked my bike along with the bazillion other runners and lined up to run in the LeMans style start.

Haha! Look closely and find my bike :)

Carl (296) in ready mode

We had approximately ¼ mile to run, locate our bike, hop on and begin the first lap. I had absolutely no desire to be stuck behind a million scrambling bike jerseys, so I strategically worked my way as close to the front of the pack as possible. High noon came, the cannon erupted and the fury was unleashed. STAMPEDE! I knew the sooner I got to my bike, the less chaos there would be getting going on the trail. I ran pretty quickly because it was such a short distance. Apparently, I was the first woman through the run, although I didn’t find this out until yesterday. I saw a Superfly on my left and reached for it…UGH! Wrong bike. Glad I didn’t hop on! I looked about 4 feet ahead and Erick already had my bike out and ready to go. Perfect. Thanks, Erick!

Where IS she???

GO!

Rollin out for Lap 1

I looked down and was encouraged by my mantra added by my teammate...

My first lap was pretty fast. I knew it would be. I also knew that I had many miles in front of me. My goal coming into the race was to turn in consistent splits within 4 or 5 minutes of each other. I used the times from last year to set a pace I honestly thought I could maintain, but in the end I could not. My times slowed to the 1:30’s throughout the night. I can attribute a bit of that to the brutal wind on some of the laps, but I would rather not use the weather as an excuse. I should have stayed in the low to mid 1:20’s.

In all my slower laps, my legs felt heavy right at the beginning for a couple minutes. I pushed through and got back on pace, grinding up the “bitches” and then picking it back up on the flowy singletrack. I held the pace I wanted until the last climb to the saddle. I lost time here on each lap. Frustrating.

On my third lap the rain was coming sideways and the wind straight on. Enough rain had come down to make a few of the corners slick and I crashed on one of them. Tore up my tights and scraped up my right knee pretty good, but nothing to worry about. I picked up my bike and was going again in about a minute. My sixth lap saw me eat it bigtime about 200 feet from the exchange tent. I was tearing through the last part of the course and somehow lost it on some loose sand in the bottom of a small wash. I landed directly on top of my right handlebar that was sticking straight up from the dirt. The impact left a circular cut precisely in the shape of the bar end in my right groin. Intensely painful, I paused for 30 seconds trying to move my leg. Not happening. I lifted my right leg up with both hands to  get on my bike and pedaled in to finish the lap. Grimacing in pain, but trying to hide it and be tough I limped back to camp, telling myself I had about an hour to get well. I rolled out on the foam roller, stretched and ate. I couldn’t put much weight on my right leg to walk, but oddly enough I was able to pedal without much pain. I was good to go.

Here are some pictures of life in camp between sundown and sunrise:

Happy faces....

Brrrrr...Arizona is supposed to be warm, I thought... Ha, silly me..

My horse...

Who signed me up for this?

Keeping warm and checking splits as they posted with Jen...

Jen informed me we had moved into 3^rd. Erick had battled through the frustration of two flats and had turned it on. He posted some wicked-fast early morning laps and left everything out there. Awesome job, Erick! Mad respect for a great rider and friend!

On the hunt for a fast lap!

AZ sky looms...

We were safely in third and for my 9^th, and final lap, I momentarily considered skipping the “bitches” and riding the new bypass trail that was a bit longer. Ummm, yah, that thought stayed in my head for all of about 2 seconds. I was definitely going to slap those old bags in the face one last time until next year.

My last two laps were a bit quicker, but I still was slower than I wanted to be overall. I am really happy to have placed third for my third race ever. The entire event was a blast and I stood on the podium with a great teammate. A huge, heartfelt thanks goes to Jen who had wonderful food and support ready at all times. She truly is the rockstar. Also thank you, Kevin, for keeping my bike clean and maintained after every lap. And finally, to Brandon for all your help with everything!

3rd Place

Celebrate!

This race taught me a lot. It was a good checkpoint that provided encouragement and also pointed out my weak points. I met some great people and experienced a new type of riding. I earned the nickname "Miss Flowy" and "Hammer" (ha, again) from some pretty cool guys I seemed to always be riding with on my laps.

Most importantly. I had fun. My love for the sport grew as I just....simply...turned the crank. Over and over. Mile after mile. I was just happy to be on a bike and so thankful that I have the chance to do what I love amongst great people.

I watched some truly impressive racers blow by me on the "bitches"and, then, I also saw this guy:

Chick magnet!

A friend emailed me a simple spreadsheet comparing my times with the Coed Duo 1^st and 2^nd place women. My average lap time was 1 minute slower than the 2^nd place woman and 10 minutes slower than the 1^st place woman.

Hmmmmm....time to continue working on my bike's motor to get faster. J

Coming tomorrow: AZ Trail Pre-ride stories and pictures...

Until then:

Team Las Chupacabras!