I rolled out of ‘the wash,’ feeling strong and fresh. I had seen some rain, but the sky was clear in the direction I was heading: Golden Gate pass. I heard some lightning from the storm that had just blown by the pass. I thought I’d wait just a bit before venturing up there, just to be safe.
Then I turned my head just slightly south, towards Avra Valley. Dark, dark clouds were sitting directly south of me, near the Desert Diamond Casino. All of the cells have been moving north, so I knew the race was on.
I intended this to be a ‘moderate’ ride, but that went out the window. Before I could get anywhere near the top the trail was flowing with 2 inches of water. The trail was the drainage. But I was still riding, almost enjoying it, and wondering how the racers were going to fare.
The Sundown at the Pass running race started in about 5 minutes. They were due to hit the top of Gates Pass right as this storm unleashed its fury. At the top the rain turned to hail. On the other side the trail was flowing even deeper — 3 inches of water in places. I usually have trouble on a few of these downhill sections, but today I just rolled over everything. At one point I attempted to stop, applied my brakes, and not much happened. So I just rolled it out, headed where there wasn’t flowing water, then proceeded to slow down. I got down just in time, then turned around to see another mountain biker heading down from the pass. It was Jason M, also watching his ‘lady friend’ (as he put it) in the Sundown Race.
It was pouring rain, and just when I thought it could get any harder, it did. It was pounding down as the leaders approached us. I could barely make out who was where. Randy Accetta was up there, followed by a couple of women who I couldn’t recognize. Then, Paula, Tia and Scott came flying down the road. There was a nice flow of water across the road where I was watching. No one seemed to mind though, they just splashed through and kept flying down the hill.
After talking to Jason a bit more I hopped on to watch the race unfold. Water was flying everywhere as I coasted down Gates Pass. My face, my back, you name it. When I caught up Paula and Tia were close and Randy was on the side of the road wincing in pain. He asked for a ride and explained that he could barely walk due to his calf. “Uh, sure, hop on.”
The rest of the race went by with Randy on my seat, me grunting up the rollers and Paula and Tia duking it out into the finish for 3rd place and $150. In the end Tia out distanced Paula by a few seconds. She had more heart today, but they both ran great times overall.
After hanging around soaked for a bit, I realized the only way to get warm again was to start riding. So I said goodbye (I have been to enough award ceremonies to last the rest of my life), and pedaled back up Gates Pass Rd. It was still blocked to traffic so I enjoyed the rare and unique pleasure of being able to hear myself think. It’s impossible to ride this road without getting swarmed by cars. Tourists, hikers, mountain bikers, and even, gasp, commuters. But not today. Just a few stragglers from the race and Scott Morris try to rewarm his frozen torso & soggy feet.
The strategy worked. By the time I hit the trail I was comfortable again, except for the water still sloshing around in my shoes.
I love the desert — as I laid my tires on the trail again it was a completely different place. No water, no channels, no new ruts and nearly dry conditions! I couldn’t even see my tire marks in most places. Amazing. I struggled to climb the boulders and other challenges, I was too frazzled to really give it an honest effort.
The downhill was incredible. I usually don’t find much to be excited about in descending Golden Gate in reverse. But today it was so quiet and soft. My bike just floated down the road, bouncing but feeling the flow of trail.
As I pedaled over the Tucson Mountains and into the Starr Pass valley the sun fell. I switched on my LED light and pedaled out into the golf course. I felt like riding more, but a grumbling from my stomach convinced me to call it a night.
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