SSAZ07

I haven’t done a race of less than 140 miles in >two years. The ‘event’ (SSAZ) was 40 miles of some of my favorite trails in Tucson, so I really couldn’t resist.

Except that it’s a ‘singlespeed only’ event. I did the course mapping for Dejay, and he had invited me to participate despite the lack of a lack of derailleur on any of my bikes. When I learned late Friday night that the ‘Riding the Spine’ guys were going to be there, I decided to show up and test my legs.

Racing hard for ~4 hours means I can only eat semi-liquefied goop. Paula bought me a 15 serving cliff shot thing probably three years ago, when I used to need it. I filled a flask and noticed it was long expired. But does GU really expire? I was too cheap and cared too little for the race. So I ate some. “I’ll know by tomorrow…”

I threw my stuff together, even detaching my helmet LED for the first time in months. I’m sure 300g less on the helmet made all the difference. Racing is so silly that way.

I woke up twice in cold sweat, about to puke. I guess cliff shots really do expire. At least now I knew.

Headed over to AC park and saw the three adventurers, looking straight out of a photo from their site, on the curb outside the park. I rolled over to talk to Jacob about their remarkable trip, the grand canyon, and their plans for the future. Saw/meet quite a few other people of note as I saddled up, as well.

Was it awkward to be one of ~5 geared riders among ~60 singlespeeders? I guess, a little. Dejay promised heckling, but I didn’t really get any.

To me they are all bikes. Ever since I got smoked by Jason Spencer in the Squealer back in 2003, I have ceased believing that a rigid singlespeed is a huge disadvantage, even on a technical course (Squealer traverses the length of National Trail). Jason rocked it that year in 1:36. I was ~5 minutes slower.

To quote Pete (from the Great Divide Race thread on MTBR):

“I started riding the rigid ss almost exclusively about a year and a half ago and the perception by non ss riders that it is so much more difficult is pretty funny because it’s not, but it’s a myth I don’t mind people perpetuating so us ssers can seem more hardcore.”

No need to discuss singlespeeding here, I really don’t care enough. I’m sure one day I will own a singlespeed and I will love riding it. I love riding bikes, you know?

My only goal was to blow myself up. I failed to meet that goal.

The hotheads (self included) shot up Redington at an alarming pace. Dan Maher, one of the fastest local runners, passed me for a second. “I didn’t think the start was going to be so ferocious!”

“Fuzzy” (John) was one switchback ahead of me before I could even exhale. He only increased his lead on me as the 1500 foot climb went on. Dejay said he had 2:30 on me as we turned off onto the Arizona Trail. Meanwhile I was climbing in 2nd place, unable to fathom being able to climb with SS hammerheads on 22 pound bikes.

I followed pink flags through gates onto a section of “trail” I haven’t ridden for 4+ years. It’s technically closed to bikes, you see. But it was a brilliant addition to the course. Pick a good line and follow the trail as best you can. Fuzzy put even more time onto me on this loop, having pre-ridden it.

As I descended the Acorn (Bellota) trail, I lost 95% power in my front brake. Almost went off the trail in a few places. I was scared to be descending Milagrosa. My 30 second diagnosis yielded no easy fix. I figured my pads had glazed since I’ve been having troubles with them, and I’m a disc newbie.

Through a series of fortunate circumstances, Fuzzy and I ended up descending Milagrosa together. I’ve got to hand it to the man, descending some of that stuff sight unseen. Racing can do that to a person, but still, the guy was riding well. I walked the steeper sections, unable to risk a major crash. He had to wait for me at a few of the trail junctions, where I’d yell ahead which way to go.

He followed me through the last bit of trail onto the pavement. “I don’t have a big ring, but I do have a tiny little cog.”

I shifted into that tiny cog and pedaled out the last 2 miles to the finish without a hint of guilt. No one was there. Fuzzy rolled up and we chatted about the breaks we did and didn’t get. I was first back to the parking lot, but he won the race, and in many ways he deserved to win.

It was awkward to ‘win’ a race, but not really win it. But, whatever, I got what I wanted out of it — I tested myself and won HUGE. I’ve long had the suspicion that I’m getting slower, or have yet to recover from some of my more longer exploits. Just being able to hang with these guys, gears or no, put that thought further out of mind. So I’m as happy as can be.

I met up with Jefe (who suffered through the same Grand Loop I did) and did a few rides. First was on the AZT, where we watched crews finally connect all 20 miles of trail. Here’s me taking a whack at the ‘golden spike’.

The die-hards like to give me a hard time for not showing up to every work event. I’m ever grateful that they have the dedication to be there at every one. But I’ve never intended to be there all the time. I know my role, and my contribution. I’ve been an active member of this project since the beginning. It’s just funny how guilt is used to try to get people to “volunteer.” If I’m going to go build trail it’s because I want to get out, get some exercise and contribute. And if there’s a good ride going on instead, the choice is easy. I was sound asleep at 8:30, trying to recover from 3:30 of hard racing the day before.

It was just odd to be greeted so coldly. It was kind of like “oh, what are you doing here?”, you didn’t volunteer these last 4 hours (nevermind the hundreds before over the last 3 years). Here’s a shovel, you should be working. Uh, no, I’m enjoying this trail, maybe you should do the same and loosen up.

Jefe and I rode out to highway 83 on the AZT. I’ve got him dulled into a false sense of how easy the AZT 300 is going to be. Indeed, these are some of the best miles of the course. It was a nice ride.

On Monday we met up for a quick spin around TMP. Tech pass, wash, yetman, micro-track (hedgehog trail). Jefe’s riding was impressive (rigid SS and sight unseen on the trails). Good stuff.