Of Big Bikes and Bikepacking

Mike and Jeny went a road trippin’, eventually pushing far enough south that one of Mike’s favorite places was within range.

Why is the 50 Year such a favorite? Even the photos thus far should make it pretty clear.

It’s a big planet, but there just aren’t many places like this. At least not many that I know of, where big rocks are rideable and challenging, somewhere right in the balance between impossible and too easy. Sweet spot. Then there need to be trails nearby, and creative riders to tap it. That hasn’t happened too often, either.

Luckily Louis Gomez has dreamed up some beautiful lines out there, like the spine surf Jeny is riding above. I hadn’t ridden it for years, but rolled up, ‘bike-scouting’ it instead of stopping to look and contemplate. It rolled out cleaner than I have ever ridden it. In between hoots and hollers I heard Mike from above, “but you didn’t let me take a picture!” It was an endearing Team Photo moment.

I haven’t been riding many of these lines, largely because I haven’t been in Tucson all that much in the last ~year, and also because I’m a wimp. The big bike hasn’t been much of a focus, and it shows.

Some of the classic lines were showing signs of neglect as well. No tire marks coming off them.

Mike was in good form, as always. Jeny and I tried to keep up, and rode little versions of some of the goods.

It was Jeny’s first time at the 50, and still being new to the big bike, she rode very well.

Lunch rock has been looking better and better to me, for whatever reason. I finally made myself do it. I then proceeded to do laps, rolling it 10 or so times. It’s giggle inducing. There’s nothing hard about it — you just have to get over the fact that it’s nearly concave at the top and that your bike may be vertical for a brief moment.

I rode Mike’s new “Shortbox” Lunchbox for the rest of the descent, confirming what I already knew. Me want. Most playful and fun bike I have ever ridden. So confidence inspiring and stable.

I must admit I have a renewed interest in rocky monkeying after this day. Riding terrain like this is one of the most beautiful and most unique aspects of riding a mountain bike.

Eszter returned from her solo soul search bikepack, fresh with new direction and contentment. Rest up? Not with weather like this! We drove the van out to where she left off — Freeman road on the AZT. Cache replenished, we headed out to the Boulders.

What’s that? A tail wind? Perfect. We can put that to good use, all dang afternoon, as we head North and West.

The Boulders is already a high miles-per-hour type of affair, with great layout and mellow terrain. With a tail wind it’s almost cheating, as far as miles on the AZT go.

It was nice to settle into some continuous pedaling, in contrast to the rock monkey pace with its photos, sessioning, scouting, photos, and more photos, followed by more photos (they don’t call it Team Photo for nothing!). I enjoy both, but sometimes need to balance things out.

Ripsey looms! It hardly felt like we’d had to pedal to this point, so the prospect of that climb was probably the least intimidating it has ever been.

Pure Magic.

I learned just today that the more likely plan for rerouting the AZT around future Asarco mine tailings will still include this section of Ripsey. It’ll branch off after a couple miles on the ridge for a different switchback attack descent. Good news for Ripsey lovers such as yours truly.

The current descent will do for now! We had planned to camp on the ridgeline at “our” saguaro, but two problems precluded that: 1) we *both* somehow missed the saguaro 2) the wind was howling on the ridge.

Instead we filled up on water and busted out the Kelvin climb before dark, arriving at the AZT’s golden spike just in time to sit and watch the fireshow from above the river. It was a beaut, and a beaut of a night. The spike sits on a nice perch that is perfect for camping.

Breakfast was held with the giants.

And along wonderfully contouring trail. Hopping on the bike after a night on the trail is the best way to start a ride, period. Nothing to do but pack up your meager belongings and hit the trail.

The friendly neighborhood tail wind, common to this stretch, was with us, gentling us down the river.

Effortless movement, or so it seemed. Yes, bikepacking really is this good, sometimes.

Little did we know we could have camped on the Gila’s lawn, running our toes through the blades of grass in the morning. January in the dry, dry desert. Go figure.

The river dropped recently, leaving us only a cold trickle to splash through.

green enough for you?

It was time to start heading back, primarily on roads. It was time to pay the piper. Bikepacking can’t be all tail winds and lollypops.

Or can it? We fought some wind on the climb below Grayback, and some on the Flo-Kel highway. But as we started back towards the AZT I paused and asked Eszter, “is it just me, or do we have a tail wind, again?”

I was fully expecting to push into the wind we had benefited from the day before. I’ve climbed the Boulders a time or two in big wind, and it hurts.

Not today, though. We were running low on water, food and energy, so the favorable winds were truly a gift. We rolled back to the van, drove to Dudleyville, then hit La Casita in Mammoth for a cheese crisp, big plates of Mexican food and a giant ice cream cone for me.

Bikepacking and rock monkeying — two of the best aspects of mountain bike life. It’s hard to imagine a better way to start out 2014.