Phoenix Endurance Experience

I love getting up early for rides. I’m not really sure why, but when you get up well before normal, you know you’re doing something wholly abnormal. I left Tucson at 3:45a, arriving at Yuri’s place with just enough time to assemble the bike and suit up.

5 miles dark pavement led to Trail 100. The start was mellow at first, with no one willing to lead and go the wrong way (least of all me), but eventually Brian B. grew impatient and shot off. Two riders responded, and so did I.

Soon enough, I felt like I was in an MBAA race, which was not at all a bad thing.

The lead group (Brian, Doug and Chris) rockets into the sunrise

I noticed a few things. First, it’s been a long time since I’ve been in this kind of situation. Second, any time it got rough, I’d have to brake to avoiding ramming into one of Chris or Doug. Didn’t matter if it was up or down, it was very noticeable how quickly they lost momentum on the rocks. I knew I was paying for it elsewhere (29″ FS), maybe in weight. Third, no one was taking the fun lines. I got sucked into it at first, but after a while I couldn’t resist – racing be damned. A jump launched me up higher than I expected, and the landing wasn’t pretty, but I got a good laugh out of it. I heard an exclamation from Dara somewhere behind me, telling me she probably had the same experience.

There was a grunt of a hill that I witnessed Brian clean. The old man was a-hecklin’, so there was really no choice.

“That wasn’t worth it.”

I saw a trail junction and quickly noted that we were going the wrong way. No one was behind me, but I decided to follow the GPS track. It led me right where I was supposed to go – to a hike-a-bike and the trailhead. I had no idea where everyone else had went, and questioned my own sanity/GPS for a moment, but I continued on.

Flat roads are far from my strong point, and after I waited for (what seemed like ages) at red lights with no traffic, I figured a group was bound to catch me sooner or later. I sat back and enjoyed the ride.

It was a nice AZ morning. Phoenix has always been a cesspool to me, something to be “survived”, usually passing through, hypocritically, by motor car. It’s got South Mountain, which is almost enough to save the city, in my mind. But I was looking forward to riding across town with an open mind. Of course I found that life thrives just like it does everywhere, and that perspective is everything.

Plywood stopped me dead, crossing the canal. I kicked it a few times and triple checked that I wasn’t missing something obvious. I turned around to see Brian and Chad in the distance.

“Uh, we’ve got a problem.”

B: “Have you been ahead of us the whole time?? I know T100, and that’s the way we always go.”

S: “That wasn’t the way the GPS track goes, or the cues.”

Chad was already down at the canal. From my vantage it looked barb-wire fenced in, but he’d seen a way down. Brian and I followed.

Eventually we made our way back on course for some pleasantly cold riding on Reach 11 trails. This was a great section.

We emerged onto pavement to begin the McDowell prologue.

Chad approaching the climbing

My ‘goal’ for the race was pretty simple. Go with the flow of the group to the McDowell’s and then shatter myself on the trail, hoping for a LONG, hot, miserable ride back across town. Some of my best rides in Tucson were just that – warm up, self-destruct in the mountains, then claw your way back home, usually with unreal temperatures some forty degrees hotter than when you started.

I explored a number of cracks, but failed to bring down the house.

But I didn’t know that yet.

Technical flow and incredibly fun riding hit on Paradise and Lost Dog Wash trails. I pedaled into the climb on Sunrise with little thought. I stayed in middle ring thinking I could just stand and hammer it out. The error of my ways became apparent soon enough, but even in little ring I kept weight on the pedals.

I didn’t catch a glimpse of Brian, behind me, until near the saddle. I knew ~2800′ was the top, but Sunrise hid a sucker punch – another steep climb above the saddle. That one hurt, and a crack grew.

Brian caught me right at the bottom of Sunrise, where we both stopped to fill water. His friend Rich (not racing) also descended and joined us.

I packed up and rolled out, trying to get a jump on him, but soon enough I looked back and saw:

It wasn’t going to be that easy. Soon enough they were back on, and it became clear Brian didn’t want to get lost (he had no GPS track, and only cues in his jersey pocket). I kept the pace high for the next hour or so. I think Brian suffered more than he wanted to, but it became pretty clear I wasn’t going to break away.

I tried “letting” him get ahead as we burned up Windgate, but they just waited for me at the top.

As we descended, we agreed that it would be pretty silly to race the last miles, through traffic and on flat canals. So we were pretty much calling it a draw, assuming we launched out of the McDowell’s together, which seemed likely.

Brian’s a great rider, and it was fun to follow him down the rough trail. I lost a bottle (and with it, 24oz), and ran into Rich who helped me look for the top in vain. Now I needed water, and planned on stopping in the Basha’s area, since it was a known place.

Near the bottom, Brian stopped and escaping air was heard.

“Aw, Poopsicle”

I stopped, but then the thought of getting caught by someone behind us came to mind.

“Maybe, I’ll see you back at Basha’s”

(whimper), “Ok….”

I rode off and figured the race was “won” – the advantage was well to my side with the GPS and course study I had done. I had mixed feelings about leaving him, since he had “waited” for me, but for all I knew he was waiting for my GPS, not me. I rode fast to Subway, where I bought a coke bottle to replace my bottle, and filled the camelbak. I was there five minutes, and to my surprise, I saw a rider coming down Bell as I pulled out. I knew he needed water, and my first reaction was to dive back into the parking lot, cutting back over to Thompson Parkway, before he saw me. I quickly realized this would be technically cutting the course (I needed to go back to the intersection), but I also realized “winning” wasn’t that important to me. I had failed to shake him in the McDowell’s, he had an incredibly fast (tubeless) tire fix + ensuing riding after that, so we may as well make our way through the rest of the course together.

Maybe it was the coke in my system, or the constant flow of ice water from my camelbak, but the ~30 mile ride back just wasn’t that bad. I stood to pedal a few of the short dirt hills, and was simultaneously elated and disappointed that my legs still held strength. This wasn’t going to be the sufferfest I’d hoped for.

I puzzled over the illogical conundrum of being disappointed at a lack of suffering, but so it was. It wasn’t hot enough, my legs weren’t cooked enough, my ass wasn’t sore enough, and the route was too darned interesting.

This section, like the ride to the McDowell’s, had some nice riding on it. Singletrack, doubletrack, bike path, bridges, tunnels, dirt road, powerlines – you name it, it was in there somewhere. Only the last section of canals was fairly homoegenous, but it still required some maneuvering and a lot of care at crossing side roads. It was dangerous enough while not racing – I was really glad to not be worrying about making good time through here, or being chased.

We made some wrong turns (I was not nearly as focused had I been riding solo), and Brian wondered “how many more miles” quite a few times, checking his cues. We chatted about rides and racing, and the time went quickly. I do remember wanting badly to be done for the last few traffic/street miles.

At Yuri’s place we found some riders who had put in a very long day, but hadn’t finished the loop in the McDowell’s. Other riders filed in, and the story telling began. Great group of people, but I had to leave early due to a moment of insanity earlier in the week. I had agreed to join Mark Flint in flagging AZT @0700 the next morning. So the Phoenix Endurance Experience continued for me, logging two+ more hours in the car (big traffic jam leaving town). I dribbled around getting things ready and loading GPS tracks once home.

Paula, Sher and I made it to the Santa Rita’s just a little late. They went off to build trail while Mark and I left to stumble around in the desert. We had a major challenge – a nasty set of drainages where the previous design crew had given up and left the GPS track in the wash. I can’t believe it worked out as well as it did, but we found some good stuff.

I slipped on a side slope, taking a chunk out of my hand upon landing, so the only riding was on the recumbent, ’round the neighborhood. I can’t believe how many times that bike has come in handy.

PEE was such a surprise hit for me. For years I’ve wondered how Yuri makes riding canals and bike paths, through Phoenix, look cool. Creative photography, or photographic fakery, I thought.

Well, I got the full treatment out there on the PEE, and I gotta say, it is pretty cool. Don’t ask me to explain why, but I think the name of the event sums it up (and no, not PEE) – the Phoenix Endurance Experience. Thanks to Yuri for giving us a glimpse into his world.

90.12 miles
8760 ft climbing
8:28 moving time
8:58 total time
10.6 mph average speed