Pinacate Fat-biking

We had grand plans for a bikepack around the Sierra Pinacate, a large collection of volcanic peaks and cinder cones just across the border from the Camino Diablo, in Mexico.

Chad had previously received permission to ride park roads and singletrack from a supportive and enthusiastic park superintendent. He couldn’t get a hold of that superintendent before our trip, but we figured Chad is fluent in Spanish and should be able to talk his way into it, right? He spoke our case well, but the superintendent was on vacation and the underlings could not give permission for something they didn’t understand. Bikepack? Camping on bike? We’ve never heard of that. “Here’s where you can drive your car…”

It’s not like we had spent months planning a route or anything, we were just going to wing it. So we winged it without the bikepacking gear.

First we rolled out of the entrance station for the “pista” or track, specifically created for mountain bikes!

It was ill used, but has some interesting features including bridges and ramps.

Cobbled sections for some of the steep bits.

Rubble on some of the other steeps.

I love how different the desert is, not even that far from Tucson.

The pista was a fun loop — it reminded me of other purpose built racing loops in Sonora, with named features and steep climbs.

We headed for the park’s campground, somewhat annoyed to be in a car instead of on our bikes. I was excited to tour the park by bicycle the next morning, though.

First up we climbed the cinder cone right above camp, where views of lava flows, other cones and the greater Pinacate complex presented.

A short ride led to one of the park’s best features — el Elegante caldera. Not a cinder cone, this area was once flat but was hollowed out underneath by emptying flows, eventually collapsing and exploding.

The signage was amusing, telling the story of the caldera’s formation as though you were there to witness it. “Suddenly you hear the loudest sound you’ve ever heard, and stray rock is flying everywhere! You run for your life!!”

It’s quite a sight — measuring a mile in diameter.

I’m currently selling this fat bike rather than have it sit in storage for the summer.

There’s a techy singletrack around the entire rim, and it proved challenging on our fatties.

The whole idea of the fatbikes was that we were going to attempt a crossing of the Altar desert, recreating an inspirational trip from the mid-nineties that seemed more like a hike than a ride. We were even prepared to recreate the headbands they wore. Without permission to loop back through the Pinacate (yet) we were sunk. But we did find some dunes to ride.

So hauling the pig-bikes wasn’t all for not.

Tiny tracks.

Fat ones.

Rider down. Crashing in sand is fun, just like snow.

I’d never ridden full-on sand dunes on the clown bike before, and it was a complete hoot, even if it was only a short ride that didn’t traverse any grand deserts.

We rolled back to the states, grabbing some street tacos before crossing the border. Organ Pipe National Monument has a beautiful campground not far from the border where we spent the night.

There’s a new park superintendent in charge, who has opened up the other half of the park. It has been closed for the last 10+ years due to border security issues (a ranger was shot and killed in the early 2000’s). This is Camino Diablo country, so not knowing how sandy it might be, we thought the fatties would be a good tool for the job. And here we were with a day to kill.

The start was paved, and beautiful.

Push the (panic) button!

Our 50 mile loop transitioned to dirt, winding through organ pipe cactus and more familiar Sonoran desert species.

At the farthest point out we reached Quitobaquito Springs, an amazing oasis in the desert. Pronouncing and singing the name kept us occupied for hours on the dirt road, but it was a little disappointing when we got there. Somehow I had the idea it was a hot spring, but even as we traced the source of the water back up into the surrounding hills, it never got more than lukewarm.

Wilderness on one side of the dirt road, Mexican national highway complete with stores, restaurants and garbage piles, on the other. It was an interesting juxtaposition of different management. We thought about jumping across the border for a cold drink or a cheap taco.

In the end there was minimal sand. It’s a nice dirt road loop I’d recommend, but of course primitive trails and places unreachable by motor vehicles is really where it’s at.

I’m happy to have seen it all, and the four days rides were a nice impromptu consolation for not bikepacking the loop. Hopefully we can return with bikepacking gear *and* permiso next time.