Agua Caliente from Home

saturday evening’s suburban assault ride with paula — we got thoroughly soaked at the end

I had a hunch that I was ready for long ride, or maybe a hard ride. Why not go for broke and do both? I opened TopoFusion, started loading up and looking at tracks.

I was thinking about what I wrote in the last entry, about there being so many aspects of MTB’ing that I’m in love with. I started thinking about a few aspects I’ve been neglecting lately. Nothing wrong with neglecting them, I just knew if I tapped a few it had the potential to be a really good ride.

What have I been missing lately? Steep climbing. Solitude. Tiny (granny) gears. Big views. Jamming to tunes. Long solo rides.

Don’t want to drive — too much of that lately, too. Hmmm, TF says I’ve never ridden to the top of Agua Caliente from home before. A new challenge that would be sure hit on all of the above? How could I say no?

I only do this ride about once a year, because it’s a beast. ~3000′ of net elevation gain in just over 4 miles of Milagrosa style terrain. Better be on your game or you’re gonna walk, a lot.

On the lower pitches I spied a lean and mean looking bobcat, on the prowl. He moved so gracefully through the landscape.

It was the perfect inspiration. Time to prowl and power my way up rugged trail, pawing my way around corners and digging my claws into the dirt.

The pattern goes: climb your brains out until a) you dab, b) you redline. Stop, collapse on your handlebars. Then repeat.

I had a lot more of (b) than (a). Does that mean I’m stronger or weaker than last time? You might think weaker, but I think not. If you’re weak you will dab before you can exhaust yourself.

I thought multiple times, “no way this section is happening” ….
….
“but…. don’t….. give…. UP!” ….

only to ride out of it and laugh and hoot with whatever energy remained (not much).

Of course, I had an equal number of reciprocal moments ….. “I got this….” followed by …. “guess not!”

I realized on the lower pitches that I didn’t have my 36t super granny cog (didn’t put it on for 24OP). But it was no big deal — I rode more and stronger than I ever have. Maybe it was the 16 mile warmup ride from home, maybe it was the lighter 4″ Lev, maybe it was good traction, or maybe I’m just stronger and the 36t really is a crutch!

As expected, I didn’t see anyone the entire time I was on dirt. My mp3 was playing all the right songs as I soared along the ridgeline and gobbled up the enormous views.

The wind was howling, and jellyfish squalls patrolled the Tucson and San Pedro basins. A few drops fell on me, but not enough to raise concern.

I took a few longer collapse on handlebars breaks. It was impossible not to notice how cold it was in the wind. Stop for more than a minute and I knew I’d get super chilled, super fast. But there was no sense putting on more layers because the effort of hard climbing was enough to keep me warm. My comfort and happiness were real and tangible, but also so fleeting, depending on available energy and the will to continue. Stop and it’s gone. Blink and you might miss it. It seemed a fitting metaphor for things of late. As I wrote last time, my torch is glowing bright, but how fleeting is it? How long can it continue and how much does it depend on available energy and general good health?

Best not to blink and miss any of it, I guess.

The last quarter mile is stupid steep and not rideable, even downhill (by me). So I ditched the bike and hoofed it.

At the top, I knelt in the wind shadow of tree, adding layers as quickly as I could, and also ingesting my prize:

A fitting reward for bagging the summit. So is the 360 degree view of the Rincons, the Catalinas, Tucson, all of Redington Pass and even the Galiuros. I watched the sky move sideways, as it often seems to from high places on cloudy days.

I started walking down and my legs responded with pain. Still feeling the effects of the Old Pueblo run… gah!

Back on the bike the gluttony that started with the butterfinger continued… down down down the trail. I took Agua Caliente proper on the way back, wanting some new trail and a chance to warm back up on the climbs. Oops, the climbs stung.

I completely forgot about the water bars at the bottom of the trail. Flying off each one increased the already exploding downhill stoke. A couple were perfectly spaced to do a ‘double kicker’ — manual, land, use the rebound to launch the next one and REALLY fly. Oh yeah!

The butterfinger didn’t last too long and I was already bonking when I ate it. I was trying to convince myself to eat something I had in my feed bag when I looked down and saw:

The butterfinger was good, and girl scout cookies seemed the perfect followup and the perfect anti-bonk. Five hours in, bonking like mad, one hour to go… no one is around… what to do? One of the great moral dilemmas the philosophers are sure to debate for centuries, no doubt. They looked so good, staring at me in all their orange peanut-buttery-ness.

I was tempted, but I figured someone left them recently, given that they weren’t rain soaked. So I left ’em and instead choked down stale tortilla chips and a balance bar.

Wading across Sabino Creek on the way out was no big deal — a little cold. But on the way back I was wind blasted, bonking and out of energy. My feet froze and I was shivering on the other side. I struggled up the next couple hills trying to gain some heat, and it sort of worked.

By the time the sun set along the Rillito, I was feeling strong and was further energized by the light show. Dancing and jamming to the beats in my ears, I was happy to be riding all the way back, even if it was into the wind. I opted to take some suburban wash trails just to extend the ride a bit later, returning to my neighborhood a few minutes after flipping on my lights.