I didn’t even make it before the 10am shuttle left, ferrying a huge group of MTBers out to ride some sweet singletrack.

“it’s all going according to plan… heh heh heh”

Chad Brown, mastermind behind the Jamboree, giving us an evil grin. He was the only one there when I arrived. We left with Pocket in tow, for some chill AZT miles.

check out the tire compression on the rear wheel!

Chill, until we started riding that rock, I guess.

photo by Chad Brown

My bead-flat from the Gila bikepack did not stay sealed.

photo by Chad Brown

Then I pinch flatted the tube I put in.

Chad and Pocket turned back and I kept rolling a little, running into several friends before finally turning around myself.

As always, it’s great to see so many people come out to support the AZT (almost $9k raised for the trail in the last 3 years) and also come out to enjoy the AZT. We hung out all day talking trail, rides and whatever else.

The next day I got the chance to test bikes with Aaron Gulley for Outside magazine. I got to ride a Cannondale Scalpel 29 (above), a Scott Spark, Niner RDO and a Diamondback FS 29er. It was interesting to ride something other than a Lenz on trails that I know well.

another double flat? no way

Unfortunately they were all set up with tubes which meant a harsher ride than I’m used to, and also lots and lots of flats.

Still, one conclusion is that riding super light bikes is FUN.

Todd Park climbing Hooligan — perfect testing grounds for new bikes.

Chad shows us that even an ultralight race bike can schralp the gnar.

Overall I decided I really like my bikes, but when racing a super light one sure would be nice.

Krista is back on the MTB, and that means I can throw technical trails and other surprises her way so I can better keep up.

Only problem is she’s killing the tech terrain. Skills are up, or maybe just adapting to the Tucson Mountains rock style. It was really cool to see her clean everything on the “inrockable” loop out at Robles.

We gave Charouleau Gap a nice solid pedal, and unfortunately the tech challenges were few and far between. I was disappointed to see how much the upper half of the road has been “nerfed” in the last year. Fortunately Cherry Tank and the midgate/deer camp loop still have plenty of rocks and tricky spots on the descent.

Yep, Tucson, it’s the place to be in January.

It didn’t seem too likely, but Lee and I were trying to make a bikepacking trip happen. We were about to hang up. I still had the calendar open. Wait, what about day after tomorrow? It was a longshot, but neither of us had considered the immediate future.

Weather is good now… no time like the present!

The Arizona Trail is complete, and so is the (soon-to-be) legendary Gila Canyons (*) passage. But it’s not open yet. They are still drilling test pads near Kelvin and the road has not yet been converted to non-motorized trail yet. It’ll be a few more weeks yet.

(*) Formerly the White Canyon passage.

The singletrack west of the road is brilliant, wending its way through a thick stand of saguaros.

photo by Lee Blackwell

Plummeting down to river level, in a tidy set of freshly cut switchbacks.

Back to the railroad bridge, back on familiar ground.

Familiar and beautiful ground. The trail seemed to have more flow than ever. A product of more traffic? Less overgrowth and less of those pesky flowers we’re so used to on spring Gila bikepacking trips?

photo by Lee Blackwell

Doesn’t really matter, the riding was good, period. Over analysis might only spoil the moment. Why question things when they are going so well?

I brought the “big” camera along, and with my pack loaded with food and water it was a bit of a pain (literally for my back) to drop the pack and get it out. But super fun to play with, too. I blew quite a few shots, thinking myself to know more than I do, but even if I didn’t get the exposure quite right, the clarity of the images and the speed the camera operates at is pretty impressive.

I brought my “point ‘n shoot” too, knowing I’d see shots I couldn’t get with the big camera in time. I much prefer ‘in situ’ photos, anyway, so we didn’t fiddle fart about setting up shots. Ride ‘n shoot, try to keep the rhythm of the ride going.

We rolled onto new-to-us trail after looking somewhat longingly toward Walnut Canyon and the Battle Axe (the old route for both hikers and bikepackers).

photo by Lee Blackwell

Some of it was grassy (and barely there) trail near river’s bottom. It’s nice to find a little shade (yes, it was warm enough to appreciate it) and ride a little in the bosque, but portions might get a little interesting in the rain/mud.

Portions had hike-a-bike, too! A couple wash crossings aren’t quite finished yet, and in general the trail needs a bit more benching / work. It’s still quite passable, with misgivings only a blip on the radar. It was brilliant to stay on singletrack nearly the whole time, and save oodles and oodles of climbing compared to the Battle Axe / Martinez 4×4 extravaganza we used to ride.

We (mostly I) had some tire inflation issues (some kind of non-cactus stickers) that slowed our progress and cramped our style. Both of us (without saying it) felt like we wanted to be a little further into the upcoming big climb before nightfall. So we skipped checking out and (possibly) refilling at the flowing creek we spied on the last trip.

And besides, the evening was just becoming itself.

Light beginning to bend.

Air falling to stillness.

Imagination coming to life.

By happy coincidence, we ended up on the same ridgeline as our last trip, right at the same time of night, right when we started thinking about a place to call home. A minute’s twilight pedal took us to our campsite, where we pushed aside the rocks we had brushed back in before leaving last time.

We started a little stick fire, consumed left over subways, and settled into a nice evening under the stars and nearly full moon. I played with my camera (how are you supposed to focus in the dark???) and reviewed some of the best shots of the day. It was 8pm when we called it a night, and Lee discovered that his thermarest was no longer holding air. Doh! That combined with a bit of a hydration pack leak made his beddy-bye not look so hot anymore. It was a bit of a long night for Lee, but at least it was never too cold, and you wouldn’t hear him complain in the least.

We commenced the climbing of magical singletrack once the sun graced the spires and crags around us.

We had rushed through this part of the trail last time, so it was nice to approach it with a fresh morning and fresh eyes.

The colors in the rock and veg were so bright they pained our poor little morning eyes.

We climbed amongst cliff and saguaro, reaching ‘the top’ all to soon, for this is trail to be savored.

There the view shifts from the rugged ridges of the Gila River to the depths of upper Martinez Canyon. We stopped for a ‘nibble on cheese’ brunch.

But not for long, the upcoming trail was pulling us in like a magnet.

This is the small piece I helped lay out, and this time besides enjoying it we were doing a small survey of construction notes for anything that we thought needed work or was unsafe. It’s all pretty good, though we made note of a few things.

I love the wide and (almost) overbuilt nature of the trail. It gives you plenty of time to spin the head as you pedal along, instead of focusing on negotiating rocks and steeps, challenges I hear some mountain bikers are normally known to enjoy.. ..

Either Tim’s or my handwriting. Based on how legible it is, it’s gotta be Tim’s.

By the time we were done rubber necking and taking waypoints above upper Martinez, it was a bit later in the day than we would have liked. Since we failed to get water last night, our supply was looking a little thin. Original plan was to turn around to ride Gila Canyons back, but with our water source unknown and significant riding between here and the only reliable one (the artesian well by Battle Axe), we opted to continue north on the AZT. So we climbed by the big marbley rock, caught our first view of picketpost, then kept descending down mucho fun trail.

At Telegraph Canyon we opted for the more direct route into Superior — the 4×4 road. Beautiful in its own right, it has been a while since either of us have been on it. On one of the rubble strewn ramps I was ripping along, admiring my Lenz 29er’s ability to make rocks disappear, when one particular rock made its presence known in a big way. Never saw it or adjusted line or weight, so it slammed the rear rim and cut a hole in both the tread and near the bead.

It was looking like tube time, which was OK since we were done with cactus and stickers, but at Lee’s suggestion we aired it up as much as we could, then vigorously bounced the wheel up and down to make the Stans sealant bubble and foam, getting it to the hole right by the bead. I only had to air it up once more as we descended, then it was golden!

Picketpost reflection. Water, but it was too late to turn around. We also noted that Trough Springs was not that far off route, full of water, and trickling audibly from our vantage above it on the road.

photo by Lee Blackwell

We had other plans for refreshment! I was able to finally repay a longstanding debt to Mr. Blackwell. The origins of said debt have been obscured by the fogs of time, and obfuscated by so many good rides in the area. We think the debt arose on our 2005 thru-trip on the AZT. In any case, the fact is that at some point I promised him Dairy Queen would be open so he could secure frosty blizzard blissment. But alas, DQ was long closed when we got there.

The OPEN sign was lit as we pulled in. A great wrong has been righted, the balance of a debt settled. Ice creamy goodness was quenching our thirst. All was right in the world. Until, we got cold sitting in the shade! Simple fix — go sit in the sun.

Alright, the ride wasn’t quite over yet. We tried to hit the balance between gluttony and gut bomb since we still had to do the ‘shuttle’ portion of the ride. Self shuttle on pavement, that is. It’s not a bad ride, really. As long as you don’t consider long 10% grades to be ‘bad’. Before we knew it we were cruising by the Ray mine, and coasting into Kelvin to the completion of another amazing Gila bikepack.

I must have misunderstood the plan, but I was thinking only about a single big ride on the weekend — my own concoction of a big loop around the Santa Rita Mountains. Only after I had finished drilling 60 miles of singletrack and dirt roads in the Tucson Mtns did I get the text from Krista, “TMP Big Loop tomorrow, then Scott Special loop Sunday right?” Wait, what?

Well, the weather was so incredible that I couldn’t see any reason not to spend as much time as possible outside, sore back willing.

We started the TMP big loop in record time, near dawn. Where by ‘near dawn’ I mean nearer to dawn than to sunset, which is how we usually start this loop. It’s a big one at over 60 miles and a fair chunk of technical trail + connecting roads.

Adam Kroger came along for the ride, wanting to scope the whole loop since a lot of it is new to him.

Krista has ridden the whole loop several times now, and with some shorter versions and aborted attempts, she’s really got it dialed in. It showed on “Cool Cat” and Golden Gate — we were moving along nicely and making quick work of the chunky stuff.

I took a short pit stop and then spent the whole west desert singletrack section trying to bridge back. They were flying! But it was good — those trails are better the faster you go.

Hike-a-bike up Brown Mtn for the time bonus? Sure! A good break and a beautiful, if somewhat spiky trail.

Steep, too. I remember how nutty Krista thought going up this trail was, now it’s no big deal.

And besides, you get to ride Brown’s ridgeline once you are up there, a reward better than any time bonus or ‘name on a web page only you check.’ Especially a web page that is currently down, and is now one that no one checks. (We are going to bring it back.)

I think Adam and Krista got tired of me commenting how nice it was outside, but then I had been in Salt Lake just a couple days before. No matter where you have been, it was an amazing day to be out riding.

We flashed through the roads, then onto the gasline and neighborhood roads en route to Sweetwater.

Adam’s happy to be back on singletrack. I’m looking for a fast loop of this course from him. It’s about time someone put the screws to it and knocked the undeserving guy off the top spot.

We finished up the loop out by Starr Pass. As we made our way there it almost felt wrong. “The sun is too high in the sky. We must have missed something. Shouldn’t it be dark or nearly dark by now?”

But no, we finished the whole loop, plus the short out/back to the loop. And there was even a little time to get groceries, recover and prepare for the next challenge.

I haven’t ever started a ride with Krista before 9am, so this was truly unique. Looking at an 80 mile circumnavigation of the Santa Rita mountains, we knew we would need all the daylight we could get.

Luckily the warm temperatures continued (high was 80 in Tucson!), so the morning wasn’t even cold. Last year’s big ride for Krista was around Mt. Lemmon, and the distance/remoteness made her nervous (remember she races 1.5 hours on taped courses), which was especially evident while packing. This ride was a step more difficult and more committing, but she seemed a lot more confident. At least it’s not another never-ending base pace road ride!

We pedaled slowly towards Madera Canyon and the Elephant Head trail, waking body and mind up.

Elephant Head is a great trail, but one you need to be loose and awake for. It was a little awkward so early in the morning and so early in the ride.

Dramatic views, though. I am (somewhat) sad that this is no longer the AZT-bike (race) route. I love the area, but the trails are pretty brutal, and slow. After the Devil’s Cashbox it was decision time: continue getting punished on rocky Bull Springs Road, or use our legs on smooth surfaces, climbing Mt. Hopkins.

We opted for the big climb. Up to 7,000′ we went, seeing snow a little bit earlier than I wanted to. The climb was super pleasant, giving our backs a rest and some idle time to chat away while we gained elevation.

The caveat for the “big climb” option is that there’s only one way off Hopkins, and that is Tia Juana Ridge. It started in the snow.

I believe the caption is, “ewwwww.. .. yucky!” What is this white stuff? It’s so easy to forget about winter in Tucson.

photo by Krista Park

I think I’ll stop riding, right, about… HERE! Downhill hike-a-bike isn’t anyone’s favorite way to lose elevation, but at least the elevation was easily gained. Easy come, not so easy go.

It’s one of the stupidest roads (*) I know of, worth traversing just for the sheer craziness of it. And also the connection it provides…

(*) Krista questions my definition of “road” after experiencing Tia Juana.

Krista piloting her 26″ wheeled hard tail through baby heads most would balk at on a 29er full suspension. I almost did.

Tia Juana is something else. Just when you think you’ve got a good line and some good momentum going, there’s a tree branch in your face, or a baby head comes out of nowhere and bucks you off line. Somehow a couple of motorcycle riders had traversed it just in front of us (they passed us on the Hopkins climb), leaving a nicely churned up half inch of dirt in the middle of some of the ruts — bonus traction! I’m not so sure how they got their bikes through some parts of it.

There aren’t too many riders that would enjoy, or even keep a good composure, while making their way through something like this road, or indeed even the whole first 25 miles of this route. I was a little worried that Krista might wonder what was wrong with me for suggesting all this. But I think she’s got adventure in her blood, or maybe was just so sick of road base miles that anything seems better — even sliding down Tia Juana ridge.

We emerged from Tia Juana unscathed, then rolled on to slightly more civilized surfaces, along the Salero Ranch Road, inbound for Patagonia. The first 25 miles of the loop had taken 4.5 hours to traverse. But I didn’t point that stat out at the time. I knew better surfaces would mean good time, but I still doubted our chances of finishing before dark.

As we coasted down the last couple miles to Patagonia, the two motorcycle riders we had seen before came cruising up the road. They recognized us and pointed, slowing down. We did the same… pointing incredulously. “I can’t believe you guys rode down that thing.” “Us? We can’t believe you guys did it.” “You’re crazy.”

Pit stop in Patagonia. No luck at the store, which was closed for new years. The girls at the park yelled “happy new year!!” to us each time we passed, finally settling on simply watering up at the colorful bathroom in the park. All was quiet — even quieter than normal, and it was almost a shame to leave.

I had it in my head that it was time to make some miles, still sitting with half the loop in front of us. I also had in my mind ‘base pace’, so I took off at a nice steady tempo out on Highway 82. I remembered how broken I was at this point in the loop when I did it solo back in 2010. Pacing, pacing.

It was a bit too fast for this loop, but we kept it above 15 mph despite the wind, then got the junk calories we wanted from the store in Sonoita. First thing the lady behind the counter said to me was, “boy, you’re behind the pack.” My brain short circuited for a second… I’m in a convenience store and other riders have been through… am I bikepack racing?

OK, it was just a group of roadies out from Tucson. I assured her we were riding trails, not roads, and while that may have been true earlier in the day, we left town to rip through still more roads. The wind was at our backs on those roads, so speeds in the twenties were no big deal. I did a double take at my GPS… Gardner Canyon already? Can’t be.

I gave us the option to skip some climbing and stay on the pavement a bit longer, but we opted to get off the highway. Another good choice. Coming back on the Kentucky Camp AES course the wind was still at our backs, so even the climbing was inconsequential. It was so warm, and the lowering light made for the perfect evening. I started realizing that we might finish this thing with daylight to spare.

We whisked down Box Canyon, and I tried to prepare myself for washboard torture. This section had destroyed me the last time I did this loop.

Pacing, fueling (Carborocket!) and (most important of all) a hefty TAIL WIND made the last miles not torture, but pure bliss.

The sun was still above the horizon as we floated over the washboard and breezed up the climbs. There’s nothing like knocking out a difficult ride, on tired legs, and having it go better than expected, be easier than expected. Success.

I had to tell Krista to try riding back up the road we just came down to see just how much of a tail wind we had been reaping. She didn’t believe me. It only took a few seconds of pedaling into it before she turned around and said, “yep.”

We made it back to the Corsica in just under 80 miles and just over 9 hours. That makes for 200 miles on the MTB in 3 days. I think that should suffice for ringing in the new year. Great weekend, thanks for the idea of putting two big rides together Krista, it was a good one. “You guys are crazy.”

First, the Arizona Trail was officially completed back in the middle of December. They drove the “golden spike” on the White Canyon Passage just above Kelvin, AZ. This has been a long time coming, and represents a big change in routing for the AZT race (and AZT thru-riders as well, of which I expect there to be more and more). The ~100 miles of trail from Oracle to Superior is some of the finest anywhere, and has all the ingredients to become a famous MTB ride.

This coming weekend is the Arizona Trail Jamboree, an event organized by my good buddy Chad Brown on the southeast side of Tucson. Donations go directly to the AZ Trail Association, with last year bringing in $4000 or so. There will be some good riding and good friends at the post-ride BBQ/hangout, so if you aren’t signed up already, head over to: http://topofusion.com/jamboree. Jan 7 is the date.

Last year’s AZT 300 overall winner and endurance queen Lynda Wallenfels has distilled her knowledge of all things training and bikepacking into an AZT 300 training plan. Check out the announcement at lwcoaching.com. I love it that the AZT race now has its own training plan, and I can think of no better way to prepare for the race that to follow her plan.

2012′s first event in Arizona Endurance Series is the Antelope Peak Challenge, coming up Saturday the 28th of January. 65 mile and 115 mile options are available, both jam packed with miles on the AZT. I’ll be there, and the GPX/maps are updated with the new singletrack bypassing the gasline and bloodsucker wash.

That’s it for AZT news… soon some photos from frozen rides in Salt Lake City, and a new years riding binge in 70 degree Tucson.

I picked Chad up at the grocery store by his house, since his neighborhood was all but shut down by the Tucson Marathon. It seemed to be a good day to suffer out by Oracle, by the look of the thousands of folks out there pounding the pavement.

We drove on through Oracle to Tiger Mine road, starting with familiar miles of trail. Neither of us were brimming with energy. But energy spent has a way of feeding the same, and by seeing that Chad wasn’t tired, I convinced myself that I wasn’t either.

We looked to the left on the gasline, with its first ominious hill on the horizon, then kept pedaling straight onto new trail. As the trail meandered a bit, we started setting our expectations lower. Some awkward crossings and vague trail kept us on our toes. If felt slower than the gasline, for sure, but gives a much more natural feel.

Then without warning, sweeping views presented themselves. I forgot my GPS, so had no idea we had climbed so much.

Neither of us expected the miles and miles of ridgeline riding that followed.

It wasn’t long before we were both calling it a “mini-Ripsey.”

photo by Chad Brown

And it wasn’t long before the stoke factor went off the charts, and everything else in the world (including tired legs) faded away.

photo by Chad Brown

There’s nothing like laying fresh tracks on fresh singletrack. Being Arizona Trail only cranks it up a notch further.

Really? More ridgeline descending? OK… if we must!

Antelope Peak in the upper left corner

Finally the saguaros started to reappear, signalling our return to more Bloodsucker-esque elevations. The last descent to the confluence of Camp Grant and Bloodsucka washes was a brake burner, with some sections a little under-built (but still quite rideable). What this trail needs is some more bike tires on it (and feet, and hooves)! Enter the Antelope Peak Challenge.

The AZT climbs a 2 track, which we rode until we reached the old singletrack coming out of Bloodsucker. That’s it, GPS collected (by Chad) on the new route. At this point we sat down to consider our options.

• Out and back on the singletrack – we would run out of daylight, and probably food. Not to mention energy. We had underestimated the new trail.
• Gasline/Bloodsucker return – we would run out of legs on all the massive climbs and sand churning
• Camp Grant Wash to Mammoth via the GET route – we would be eating at Chad’s favorite mexican restaurant in no time, pronto

No brainer. Down the happily firm wash we went, soon finding big trees and running water from Putnam spring. I was curious to see how far off route this water source now was (answer – still pretty far at ~2.5 miles).

I had forgotten what a gorgeous canyon it is. And what a spectacular way to view it all, coasting and soft pedaling a bicycle, spending hard earned elevation in such a fortuitous way.

Chad’s Tour Divide impression, special Max Morris edition

An hour on the Camino Rio, paralleling the San Pedro river, turned out to be a pleasant cycle without a single vehicle or human siting. Pleasant, notwithstanding weakening bodies. But the call of La Casita is strong.

Little did I know it was on the other end of town. Stomachs grumbling, we rolled in to order tostadas, and burritos to go.

Heaven! The burritos went down quickly — so much for eating them down the road.

It was time to pay the piper. Life can’t be all coasting down scenic washes, pleasant cycles on car-free roads and super tasty grub.

2000′ of climbing awaited us from Mammoth back to the car. It’s a busy highway and many drivers refused to use the passing lane to.. pass .. us. There are two lanes there for a reason, you know? To pass! We got off just before it got dark, thanks to a last minute La Casita fueled second wind attack by Chad. We hit the balance just right — enough food to bring us back to life, but not enough to gut bomb us for the climb. Perfect.

It was a great ride, and I can’t wait to drop the new GPX into the APC route, the AZT 300/750 route, and the bikepacking.net GPX network. By Jan 1 there should be a 95% singletrack route from Oracle to the 300′s finish at the Picketpost trailhead, and that’s pretty exciting. It’s a good time to be a fan of the AZT. Many thanks to all those responsible for all the new trail!

Backtracking…

Krista is back in town, and back on the road bike. With my back still injured, I have been throwing road rides into the mix, with varying results. So far it’s been hard for me to keep up with her, but then what do you expect from someone just named to the Olympic long team?

Todd is back riding strong too, rocking his orange niner.

Krista on the heavily saguaro’d AZT (by Colossal Cave).

Such a beautiful trail, but my back/hips failed me on this one, and I ended up bailing to the road to spare them.

on top of Krein

Hey you guys!!!! I caught up late with Chad, Ty, Todd and Krista… and they rode the John Krein trail! Can’t believe I missed that.

I love living so close to Tucson Mountain Park… trails are just a quick ride away, and there are so many options.

Like this little gem we’re calling Wagonwheel. Such challenge, and such views, available so quickly.

I need to make it a regular. Hopefully I can now that my back is on the mend, thanks mostly due to having the energy (at last!) to get into a solid routine of yoga, stretching and core strengthening. Or so I think.