I couldn’t even make a left turn onto Grant Road. I waited and waited. It was 5 pm on Friday. Traffic and the thought of driving through Phoenix made me ill. So I called and bailed on Chad. I suggested we instead leave town at the right well hour of 3am, so we could make the race start @8am in Sedona.
I was wide awake at 3am leaving my house, charged and ready to race. As we drove the back way, through Florence, the moon was so bright that it gave the impression it was daylight. But my body slowly figured out it was still most definitely the middle of the night.
By the time we made it to Sedona the fog had settled in, and I was ready to ride, not race. I kept reminding myself “this is a race.” Truth is I felt all out of sorts, and was more concerned about falling off the narrow trail than anything else. Luckily the pace was mercifully easy as we pedaled up Highline Trail.
photo by Shawn Lortie – shawnlortie.photoshelter.com
Highline was new to me. It traverses a tiny shelf along a giant red monolith, and the views made me want to further go into ‘ride’ mode, made me want to stop and take photos. Either nobody wanted to go fast, or the trail just didn’t allow it. I think a little of both.
As we wrapped around to the south side of the monolith the group split. Jon Collins flashed down an off-trail slickrock pitch that didn’t look rideable to anyone else. Some stayed high, and the rest of us walked down the pitch, returning to the trail. I knew Jon Davis had pre-ridden this trail, so I went where he did. We never saw the guys who stayed high again. Jon Collins went on to lead (and clean!) the entire descent which was impressive, though he lost his lead on a wrong turn just minutes later.
The fog, the fog! I was seriously lacking composure on the hairball descent. First I dinged my front rim on a small rock, after executing the worst timed shift of balance in recent memory. Little did I know I had also burped the tire and now had about 10 psi. As the trail steepened and both tires were on the edge of losing traction I saw the guys in front of me walking. Should have followed their example, 10 PSI or not! Stupid! I went to turn, my tire folded over and my mind began predicting crash. Funny how I could feel it coming before knowing it. I got my feet under me, but just barely, landing hard on a bush, crouched down.
“Well, that was exciting.” I felt my front tire. We were almost to the bottom, so I kept rolling with it, babying it, waiting to actually add air where I knew there was a stop — the $3 self pay station at Red Rock State Park. While I was pumping up my tire Jon Davis kindly deposited my money and gave me the ticket.
OK, I need to WAKE UP and somebody needs to get this party started! Once we hit the roads I went to the front and started ramping up the pace. I pinned it where it felt good, and backed off when it didn’t. I got little gaps, saw one rider shoot off the back, and also learned that it wouldn’t be so easy to ride away from these guys, not if it were just a pedaling contest.
Lucky for me, it wasn’t. I had no idea Herkenham Trail was such a brilliant granny gear climb. After a couple brief wrong turns we got into the meat of the climb. I heard the guys behind me walking and cursing, so I focused on staying clipped into the pedals and earned a multiple switchback lead. The goal was, of course, to get out of sight. But there was nowhere to do it. The course was visible 5 minutes in each direction and there were no tricky turns — just straightforward climbing. So I pedaled hard and smiled at the fact that granny gear climbing had finally come into play in a race. I was glad I had taken the extra time from not leaving Friday PM to finally adjust my derailleur to not rub in granny ring (like it has been all winter).
I waited for an entire minute (felt like an eternity) at the stop light by the high school. No sign of the guys.
I rolled into Girdner Trail and felt myself getting into sedona shred mode. The trails from here on out have no significant climbs, no significant techy obstacles. But what they do have is a unique synergy of speed and rock. Everything is well ridden so there are good/fast lines everywhere, and never a dull moment. I love Sedona.
I focused on minimizing my route mistakes, taking care to read both the trail and the GPS. No doubt I was increasing my lead due to GPS skill, but I felt like I had earned my lead fair and square–with pedaling. I really nailed this section, and never heard or saw a sign of anyone from behind. After riding alone for 1.5 hours, I had just started congratulating myself, just started getting stoked about pacing the last part of the race solo. Then there were fresh tire tracks in front of me, and I soon caught three riders. One was with the photographer from Mountain Flyer mag, who pointed us the right way to Teacup trail. The other two had (unintentionally) jumped in front of me on a faster route (*). So it goes in these things.
(*) How do I know? Because my GPS track shows I followed the route.
It was frustrating to work for a lead and then suddenly have it disappear. But this “race” was more about getting a good workout, so at least now I couldn’t slack off and coast in the last miles.
photo taken about a minute after rolling up on the guys from behind
photo by Shawn Lortie – shawnlortie.photoshelter.com
A few minutes later, after railing the descent off Teacup, another racer, who I hadn’t seen since a half hour into the race, rolled up, going the wrong way on a dirt road. Turns out he was intentionally cutting the course. He joined us as if he was racing us, but at that point I just laughed and thought “the more the merrier!”, let’s shred guys!
I grew a gap through Jordan trail, but ran out of trail before dropping into town and could not get out of sight. Racing through roundabouts and hundreds of “touron” cars in Sedona seemed like a really bad idea. So this touron turned the pace down and we regrouped to roll through town at an easy clip.
It was go time again once we made it a ways up Broken Arrow. I could not shake Nick Gould for more than 30 seconds or so this time. He was on me like a glove. These were some of the best miles of the race. The wind blasted us down Llama Trail — one of my favorites of the entire Coconino Loop (speaking of Coconino, if you haven’t seen this (Mike Curiak’s slideshow from his Coco-tour), click now!). The trail has such a rhythm, while still being ledgy and full of rocks. I can’t get enough. Having Nick behind me meant I stayed focused on riding smooth and being efficient. It was really hard to get away because I’d have to slow to figure out turns/study the GPS — that and my legs were almost cramping! My quads on the inside, just by the kneecaps were tightening and itching to go off. I didn’t realize it at the time, but those aren’t really cycling muscles. They apparently did not take kindly to my crouched landing from the crash earlier in the race. That spot on both of my knees is still sore.
Super fun race, and nice to get some redemption back after last year when I was swept into Oak Creek and ended up a DNF.
Mountain Flyer writeup and more pics.
Next race is True Grit in St. George, this weekend.
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