Tomorrow (!) is the next Arizona Endurance Series event (the brand new Tor de 50), and I am just now getting to the report on the last one. This first race of the year is always a special one. It’s product of a hair brained idea late one night, and Chad’s vague notion of wanting to host an event near Oracle. It seems to build a little momentum every year, and always attracts a stalwart crowd of mountain bikers. This time they came from four or five different states, with folks flying in just for it!
photo by Seron Eaton
Chad got the 115 milers going at five am. I organized the “short” course at eight.
Brisk neutral roll to Oracle, a bit fast for the singlespeeders I found out later.
I took a glimpse at the goal, Antelope Peak, from under the AZT sign, then took the lead onto the singletrack. Not two minutes down the trail, on the third turn, I clipped a rock and heard the dreaded sound… escaping air! I let the fast guys go, tried a tire plug, but had no luck (sidewall slice). That’s exactly what I dwelled on for the first few minutes… my total lack of ‘luck’ in events, semi-organized or otherwise, lately. First try with the tire lever and it snapped right in two, without even much force on it.
As I sat crouching over the tire, struggling with it, I felt my back tightening up and the frustration growing. I almost bailed completely. After all, this is no place to be riding with a tube. Instead I decided you make your own luck, and took my time. A few jokes and encouragement from passing riders helped.
I got back on my bike and saw 15 minutes stopped time for the flat. Last year I got maybe 0.25 miles further before I flatted, but that one was fixed with a plug in less than 5 minutes. I didn’t have much hope of catching people, but was going to try anyway.
My mind was fixated over the fact that I had a tube, and was running over sharp bushes and cactus indiscriminately — there is no choice out here. I had filled the tube with Stan’s sealant the night before, but had never really run a Stan’s filled tube, and doubted I would make it through. I prepared myself once again to eat my own words from the website:
Route caution: There is a high probability that you will get more than 1 flat during the ride. Tubeless with fresh sealant is highly recommended. If you are running tubeless or tubes, make sure to plan accordingly with 2-3 spare slime tubes. Sealant is highly recommended in all tubes.
I soon forgot about the flat and likelihood of another, as I transitioned onto the new singletrack and began eating up the Ripsey-esque views. Most of all, to be pedaling hard and not have my back/hips holding me back, felt like a weight being lifted off me (the biggest fix for that was correcting my computer sitting posture). I felt like myself.
Myself, the one that loves flying through endless trail in landscapes so large and open that the imagination soars even higher than your tires. Having the 10+ long course riders roll through earlier made a noticeable improvement in the rideability and followability of the trail. That’s a big goal of this event — just getting people out on it, especially some of the sections that were never really benched or built up. Out here riding is trail work.
Riding is also riding, and I rode well enough to catch back with all the strong but APC-new riders. The deck is stacked heavily in favor of anyone that has ridden this before, and especially me, having been out here a bunch. Every year there are fast riders that get mired in lost turns, incomplete GPS tracks, flats, or other difficulties. It’s part of the allure of the Antelope Peak Challenge(s), and as my ridiculous tire change proved, I’m not immune to them.
I rode with Kyle Colavito for a while, then somehow got ahead of him at just the right time so that he took a scenic detour onto an open ridgeline, following cow trails. I had to stop at the bottom of the next descent to air up my tube from ~3 PSI back to 25, and was surprised when he didn’t come rolling up.
I pushed hard to catch a glimpse of Aaron McCombs before the peak. I didn’t really want to climb it since I was trying to minimize the overall stress of the ride. And yet, it has been too long since I’ve been up there. I found his bike in the ditch. He’s up there. Better get to walking.
I scrambled my way up the peak I had seen Aaron near the top of, somewhat puzzled as to why I hadn’t seen him coming down yet. At the top I scanned my head to the right, seeing nothing but open country and big views.
aaron heading down
At about 270 degrees I scanned something other than open country — more mountain. “D’OH!! Looks like I went to the wrong peak!!” Aaron yelled (from the top), “I did the same thing!”
Aight, another minute of quad busting for the uninterrupted 360 degree view! So worth it, time bonus or no. I stayed an extra minute thinking I’d jog back down in exchange. You can see a lot from up there.
Time to return via dirt roads, and via suffering. Aaron and I kept the hammer in the down position, catching Ashley who had skipped the peak. It was fun to experience speed after much slow trail. As we turned onto Painter Boy I pulled out the caution tape and started doing some flagging. Aaron rode away, but we knew the race was his anyway. He was going for the Old Pueblo bonus lap, and I was going for the chocolate milk in my car — I was ready to be done. I kicked it back a notch and cruised in on Painter Boy, where just like last year I questioned whether this trail should be a part of the loop. Not for myself, as I love it out there and love the challenge of following it, even with GPS. But thinking of some of the riders behind me who will be tired and running out of daylight as they get here. I could see many of them cursing it.
When you turn off onto the Old Pueblo course it’s like you merged onto the interstate — let ‘er rip! Such a great way to end a big juicy desert loop.
I got back to the cars first, but Aaron gets the overall win, collecting both the peak and Old Pueblo bonus. Great riding Aaron!
Half the fun of these events is hanging around after, telling war stories and cheering as everyone finishes. It’s pretty easy to distinguish APC riders from OP lappers — just look for bento boxes, big pack and bottles attached in odd places.
Despite my fears, everyone was in great spirits at the finish. No negative comments about Painter Boy, or about anything, really. Even those that got epic’d in one way or another (and there were quite a few) came in smiling and full of crazy stories. This is mountain biking!
Neil Stitzer wrapping up the 115 before sunset!
The long course racers started trickling in, with Kurt Refsnider once again taking the win and a solid chunk off his own record. Under 12 hours for 115 miles on the AZT? Really Kurt? Really?
In the weeks leading up to Old Pueblo this area is a hub of mountain biking. Zach and Brian came by to spin a lap after doing trail work in the newly reopened Oracle State Park. Good work guys. The AZT race route will benefit from the park being open again.
Pizza delivery! You’re awesome Nancy! She did a 5am APC short course, then a full bonus lap on the OP. Then had enough energy to get pizza for bonking riders and for Jeff (photo to come).
Bikes, desert, singletrack and sunset. Is a better combination possible?
I caught Aaron Gulley in full-on zoned 115 mile concentration mode. Or maybe he’d just seen a ghost. Either way he blazed the 115 and came in 2nd place.
“Really, Scott? Was that for real?” Jeff is a little incredulous after a very hard 115 miles on a singlespeed. As well he should be, it’s a BIG ride, and he finished it with style.
enduro nuts
Chad and the other heroes of the 115 came rolling in, plus John Schilling with his traditional after dark epic finish. The last finishers came in by 10:30pm, making a healthy 17.5 hours on the bike.
I love this race, and the good folks that show up.
Really, Scott! Only something like 80 of the 115 miles are actual AZT 😉 Nice write-up. I love that event, too! And tomorrow at this time, we’ll be out there on a new adventure. Can’t complain about that…