A52

Finally returned to Area 52 – a shelf of rock above the Gila River that’s perfect for riding bicycles on.

There is no trail, just solid rock and sometimes loose rock. Invent your own lines and most of all, be careful.

Jay and I drove out and tested out an alternate approach to the area. It resulted in about 10 minutes of walking through sand, but was otherwise a great warmup and saves some major (4×4) driving time. The sand was fast (and fun) coming back the other way.

My first time at A52 was last spring, not a week after finishing the AZT 300. I was fried, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to check it out. Louis is the pioneer of the area, so I joined him and his FR buds. I kinda followed them around, but didn’t really have the strength to try many climbing moves, and no confidence to try much downhill.

This time I kind of let Jay explore around, and he ended up at many of the same places we went to last time. I really wanted to go further south, so we also headed out that way. We found a very rideable and pretty awesome line all along the south edge/cliff. Much like last time, I didn’t have much confidence in general, so I didn’t try too many “moves.” But riding 10 feet out there is a move itself and very challenging.

Tempus fugit out there and before I knew it, we needed to head back. We dove off the mesa to the north, coming down at the pass where we had pedaled up. It didn’t work out too well (not very rideable), but it was a shortcut and I would have checked it out eventually.

Hot ‘n Ready pizza wrapped up the day in Florence, AZ.

The ride and the day itself were pretty awesome. But beyond that it was interesting to note how much of a sense of worth or accomplishment came with a great day like this. Days like these make me realize that I’ll be riding bikes for the rest of my life. I don’t need to be sure why, I don’t need to be 100% confident that it’s what I want to do (I never will be). I know that it doesn’t mean anything, and yet, it does.

Part of it was exploring somewhere new (the access was new, and this ride is still as exploratory and “out there” as it gets). Part of it was the just plain being outside, enjoying the wind and light rain on my face. A huge part was the stimulating challenge that mountain biking (esp. technical climbing) is. That visceral experience that I have not been able to duplicate in any other activity, physical or mental. Still another is knowing that the current limitations (whether placed by myself or not) can be broken through. I can ride more than I did, and access more areas of rock without unclipping from the pedals.

In the end, I know it’s just mountain biking, and it only means something to me and me alone. But from what I see in the world and the experience of those around me, I’ll take it. I’ll be very grateful of all I have, and that I have something in life that is meaningful and always will be, even though I question it and scrutinize it like nothing else. Questioning and doubting keeps me honest, but sometimes it doesn’t take much to melt that all away, at least temporarily.