Antelope Peak Challenges

That photo sets the scene. Blankets of snow in all directions. Puddles and saturated soil at the Willow Springs arch.

The sunset was unreal. But even the light wind cut right through us. What would it be like at 3am?

All indications pointed to ‘bail’. I was swimming in a sea of doubt as I nodded off. I wasn’t sure this loop was doable with perfect conditions, and we had no idea what it would be like out there after a week of heavy rain and snow. We did know that it would be cold.

Our faith was tested. Everyone joked about bailing, testing to see if anyone was serious. But nobody was.

We pedaled out into the cold night.

Enduro dorks at circular K.

We collected a few extra calories and a bit of warmth before blasting out of Oracle, set for a long day on the Arizona Trail.

For thin-blooded Arizonans, I think we were all dressed a little light. Nobody wanted to haul pounds of clothing all day, but it would be a long time before the temperature climbed above freezing.

There is one thing that keeps you warm, more so than layers: pedaling hard. We were flying through the early switchbacks of the Arizona Trail, hot blood returning life to various appendages. Cold air and a layer of frost had settled into every wash. The ground was wet, but still frozen. I wondered what would happen when the sun came out.

That was hours away, though. We were well into the endless expanse of the gasline before we even saw a hint of hope on the horizon. We also saw a hint of a Jonesy headlamp, somewhere above Bloodsucker wash.

Jonesy had started at midnight, and I have to give him huge credit for having the guts to head out on 100% new-to-him trail, alone, and in the dark.

This area is so remote and ‘out there’ that all three of us, though we observed it independently, were absolutely certain the light had to be Jonesy. He provided us a nice carrot to chase.

Cholla mine field. Classic Antelope Peak singletrack.

Max and I set to Bloodsucker wash just a little ahead of Chad. Earlier washes we had crossed on the gasline had been completely reformed by the rain, paved over with a hard crust. But not Blood-suck-a… somehow it was slower than normal!!

Max’s rear tire was shooting up a fountain of gravel as he churned through the deep and heavy sand. Suddenly Chad was in front of us!

Then, he disappeared. How the?

I finally clued in that there was only a Jonesy track in the sand. I turned into a side channel and watched my speed increase and effort level drop. I was coasting instead of pedaling hard! Max followed me, but I never saw him again.

Chad had a big jump on me, so far that I couldn’t see him on the switchbacks out of Bloodsucker, nor was he at the next gate. I put some weight on the pedals and caught him just before the windmill at Beehive well.

We pedaled together for a while, but my legs wanted to go a bit faster. I was hunting Jonesy, but after a while I realized my tire was leaving a slight indentation in the soft ground, but there was no Jonesy track.

I reached the Freeman cache and to my surprise there were people there. Two backpackers were being resupplied and fed McDonald’s breakfast (?!) by a couple of trail angels. At nine o’clock, in the middle of nowhere!?

Chad pulled up, then a few minutes later the trail angels yelled to us, “here comes your buddy!” My brain tried to make Max out of Jonesy, but it didn’t work. Jonesy had climbed Antelope Peak, watched us pedaling far below, and was going to stick with the shorter APC loop.

“What are you thinking?” Chad asked me. It felt like we had made good time, but somehow it was later than expected. Adding up the time to completion resulted in a minuscule probability of finishing before dark. Didn’t the sun just barely come up?!?

“I’m thinking we can make it.” Mostly true, I was thinking that. Perhaps believing is a better word.

We rolled out for more sinuous AZT, through the Boulders segment. Things were a little wet, but traction was superb, allowing us to carve corners and use our momentum to full effect. I hardly remember touching my brakes. Lots of coasting and smiling.

Before we knew it, we were climbing ‘the big hill’ on Ripsey. Note the flowing and recently terraformed wash stage right.

Switchbacks!

Though the temperature couldn’t have been a degree or two above 50, the sun cooked us enough to drop down to shorts and short sleeves.

The trail, the views, the warm air, the strength in my legs — everything came together at once. Everything that seemed so improbable before was right before us. Simply existing on this ridge was proof.

photo by Chad Brown

Total white moment. I got goosebumps as my freewheel coasted and I tried to take it all in.

photo by Chad Brown

We railed the switchback descent, counting in Spanish as we cleaned (or didn’t) each one.

After Ripsey we found ourselves at the furthest point ‘out’ on the loop. It had taken us over 10 hours to get here, and to top if off, it was also the lowest point on the route. Gulp.

After a brief moment’s panic (20+ hour ride?!) I tested my legs by pedaling hard up the road. Good! The long climb would disappear beneath our wheels, and soon we were back on singletrack and making killer time.

We saw the backpackers again, this time taking a moment to chat. Apparently it was a good day to start AZT adventures at 3am — they also had an early start. They quizzed us about the trail ahead and thanked us for our memory and GPS guided tire tracks — this can be a tough area to stay on the trail.

A mild perma-bonk settled in as we neared the end of the Boulders segment. Eating kept a full bonk at bay, but I never really got out of it.

The sun set quicker than we wanted it to. We were still a long ways out on Willow Springs road, riding in the shadow of still snowy Black Mountain. Though I had just as much clothing as I did at much colder sunrise, I wasn’t able to stay warm once we started losing elevation. I got ahead of Chad on a few hills so I could unclip and run up them, trying to keep my feet with me. It worked.

We made our way cautiously through the last couple miles of singletrack on the 24 Hour Course, full lights blazing. Chad’s car was a welcome sight, for it held my coat and other warm things.

I’m still a little shocked that we made it, and I’m so happy we were able to suspend our disbelief and give it a go. Great ride, Chad, thanks.

Stats: 114 miles, 14,500′ gain, 15:47 total time.