Casner Resurrected

Two years ago was the last “formal” running of the AES Casner Dirty Century.  Then, it was my first time doing the ride which as I recall, was a good 11.5 hour beat down taking us through some of the best views in Northern Arizona.  It was the ride that was somewhat of a turning point for me since it demonstrated how much ground you can really cover in a day on a bike.  It was then my longest ride to date...and well since that point, my infatuation with long rides has simply gotten worse.

It was time to run it again – This time with fellow endurance nut Mark Allen coming off his recent AZT300 finish and superhuman fitness.  Mark made my phone ring Friday asking me if I was into a CDC run.  Who was I to say no to nearly 12 hours of pedaling some super scenic terrain?

Outfitted in our new AES jerseys designed by the one and only Nancy Gray, Mark and I rolled out of Munds Park at about 6:30AM on Sunday.  We rolled north along forest roads then through some singletrack at Fort Tuthill, then connected to Woody Mountain Road.  This would take us southwesterly towards Casner Mountain.  The headwinds were brutal – a cold breeze, straight in our face nearly the whole way.  Finally, we began the traverse down a narrow strip of land that bisects the Sycamore Canyon Wilderness and the Red Rock Secret Mountain Wilderness.  This route offers absolutely stunning views albeit extremely remote and difficult to get to.  The 2 track powerline service road is almost AZT-esque  in parts… steep, rubly, rocky, and loose.

Looking south into the Red Rock Secret Wilderness - Canser Mtn on the right

Sycamore Canyon Wilderness

Looking back along the narrow strip of land bisecting the 2 wilderness areas

Me looking out into the Sycamore Canyon Wilderness

Finally after about 5 hours from the start, we reached Casner Mountain, where we snapped a few pics of the views, scarfed down a snack, and proceeded down the brake-burning descent off the south face.  From there, we made our way over to Sedona via dirt roads where we began the single track assault.  

Pano shot looking south off Casner Mtn

Descending off Casner looking east to Sedona - we'd have to ride all the way over there

As we say, this is where “shit got real”…almost 70 miles in the legs and now it was time to get our tech on; generate max power to get over obstacles all the while avoiding OTB’s and other associated potential carnage.  This is where fitness gets the real test… go zero to max power and back; wash, rinse, repeat.  Finally popping out on Jordan road, we hit the c-store to resupply with calories and caffeine prior to the ascent up Schnebly.

Team AES (lol) at the C-store modeling the new AES jerseys

Rolling through the tourist infested streets of Sedona, we headed towards Schnebly.  There, my Mountain Dew and Coke charged legs found their rhythm as I played leapfrog with pink jeeps and camera happy tourists.  An hour later, I reached the peak and decided I’d roll all the way to Munds and wait with beer in hand for Mark to finish.  Mark rolled in roughly 20 minutes later and we proceeded to destroy a few beers and a feast of fajitas.

Another successful beat down complete.

My 2013 AZT300: Attempt #2 = DNF

Sitting here some 19 hours after pulling the plug, I’m still playing the events over and over in my mind that led me to ending my AZT300.  Unlike last year, where other peoples carelessness took me out, this year it was me.

Although I’m still very new to this kind of racing, it is painfully clear to me that you have to dial in the factors at your fingertips (nutrition, hydration, training, etc) and then plan and practice for all the uncontrollable factors that the trail hands you.  It is those uncontrollable factors and how you manage them ends up being the the difference between finishing a monster like the AZT300, and throwing in the towel.   My race basically went like this…

Eleven of us met at the Picket Post trailhead on Thursday where we met our shuttle driver Phil from Gnar Gnar Tours.  After a short stop for Pizza in Tucson, we continued to Parker Canyon Lake where we unloaded and camped.  I didn’t sleep very good that night due to my ribs still hurting from a fall a week prior as well as some vicious wind.  As day broke, we all readied our gear and met familiar faces as they arrived for the start of the race.  Finally at 9AM after some words by Scott Morris, we headed out.  

Me at the start (pic from Scott Morris)

Several took off at a very brisk pace but I knew better and quickly settled into a steady churn through the Canelos.  The trail there is brutal - lots of fall line ups and downs, littered with tire slicing rocks.  About 4 hours later, I really just wasn’t feeling right; climbs were harder than they should have been and already fighting fatigue in my legs.  I arrived in Patagonia at 1:45pm which was a respectable time through the Canelos, and focused on trying to eat as I spun up the road to Sonoita.

Me in the Canelos (pic from Scott Morris)

I arrived in Sonoita, where I ran into Jeff and Nancy who had started earlier than the mass start.  After picking up some supplies, I headed out along with Jeff and Nancy.  Feeling OK, I slowly pulled away from them then the fatigue set in.  I stopped, sat on a rock and ate (something I almost NEVER do).  Jeff and Nancy came by and I mentioned to them that I really needed to find my mojo – it was way early to be feeling this poor.

Back on the bike, I rolled into Kentucky Camp where I refilled my water, ate and pressed on.  I was feeling descent and in comparison to last year, I was about 30 minutes faster.  Finally as the sun set, I put on my light and figured listening to music might help.  Rolling along the rough and rugged sections of the LosColinas Passage in complete darkness, with only my headlamp to light the trail, was a very surreal feeling.  It’s a particularly tough passage with very little margin for error; lots of steep ups and downs as the trail goes in out of  drainages.  I dumped the bike a few times as my front wheel washed out on the downhill side of the trail.  Luckily, I avoided harm and simply got back on. 

At about 9pm, on a rough downhill, I sliced my rear tire.  After dropping an f-bomb or two, I stopped, calmly got out my curved needle and dental floss, and sewed up the slice.  Fifteen minutes later, I was back on track, and had decided I would at least make it to where I’d camped last year, roughly 5 miles south of I-10.

Arriving at my camp spot at 10:30pm, I quickly rolled out my bag, jumped in and was out within minutes.  At 4am, I heard something around me and sat up in my bag.  That was enough to make me decide to pack up and go.  Thus at 4:30AM, I was back on the trail rolling north.  At about 5:30AM, my rear tire went flat again at my prior fix so I stopped, put on an external automotive tire patch, and even stitched it down figuring I really did not want to be messing with this one again. 

I continued to roll north, stopping at the Rincon Market for some snacks where I ran into Chad and Max.  I was still feeling at about 60% power so I called my wife and told her I was going to continue and climb Reddington to see how I felt.  I spun my way through Tucson then began the steep climb up Reddington Pass.  It was way harder than it should have been but I decided I would continue and see if a steady stream of calories would help.  I passed the spot where my attempt last year was ended and stopped for a second to laugh.  I figured anything from this point on was gravy!  Finally, hitting AZT singletrack, I made the turn north then gradually back to the west on the AZT.

Then slice #2 happed…$&%&#!  It seemed fixable with just a little superglue and gorilla tape but after a few miles, it just wouldn’t seal.  I pulled out the needle and dental floss and stitched it but again, no dice.  So I tubed it (using one of my two tubes) but I couldn’t get the bead to seat regardless of how hard I tried.  The tire was wobbly as heck but I figured I’d go with it. 

As I got down the trail another mile or so, I was simply out of energy.  I stopped in the shade of a big tree, sat down and ate… and thought… and stared at the ground… and then finally made the extraction phone call.  Ughh…at the time, it’s the best feeling in the world…a near term end to my suffering!  But little did I know, there was still significant physical and mental suffering ahead.  I was still about 3 miles from Catalina Hwy but what stood between me and the paved road was the AZT over Molino Saddle.  Simply put, it’s HAB hell – one of the most wicked HAB’s I’ve done.  Pushing a loaded bike up a steep, loose trail, then having to lift it over boulders is tough…really tough…really f*ing tough.

Finally I managed myself down from the saddle and then back down Catalina Hwy where I was picked up.  My race was officially over....160 miles in, 32 hours after it started.

This kind of racing is nothing short of brutal and on a course that eats people and bikes for lunch.  As I said above, you do everything you can to control the variables you can, but it’s those other variables that end up being left to chance.  When the chips don’t fall your way, it works on your mind.  Each little thing starts to add up…that creak your bike is making, the tire with 2 cuts in it, legs that won’t go, a sore rear end…till finally you raise that little white flag.

So, now I’ll watch from the couch, cheering on my friends that are still in it.  All the while wishing I was still out there.  I’m hoping there’s going to be a next year for me…I feel like I NEED to do this.

R

Bikepacking the Cottondale

Last year sometime, Tim McCabe was assembling a bunch of GPS tracks for what someday will be run as the Central AZ500.  The idea was to take the AZT750 route, shift part of it west and pickup such gems as Mingus Mountain, the Great Western Trail, the Black Canyon Trail to name a few.  Since that time, I wanted to have a go at the section from Flagstaff to Phoenix so I pinged my friend Mark Allen who is always eager for consecutive days of suffering while pedaling a loaded bike.  We decided due to time constraints, we’d shorten the route and start in Cottonwood so that it was a doable 2 day trip and finish the route at my house in Scottsdale.

Mark arrived at my house early Saturday morning and we headed north.  We parked at the Safeway in Cottonwood, did final preparations on the gear, and set off into the nipply 43 degree temps.  We made our way through downtown against a stiff headwind where we’d join the Coco250 route.  Then as we’d later joke, “sh*t got REAL” .  Making a left towards the airport, the fun began as we started the ascent up Mingus.  The grade is a bit like a hockey stick; gradual, easily climbable with the SS, then BAM, steep and loose… With a fresh set of legs attached, I felt like I needed to settle a score with this beast that so mercilessly abused me last October.  So the best I could, I stayed atop my loaded SS until I could no more at which point I gave in and hiked.

Finally, we reached the fork in the road where the Coco route goes right (and tons of ugliness REALLY starts) and our route which went left.  We proceeded along the ups and downs, savoring the rolling jeep road through the ponderosa pines and great views of the Verde Valley until we crested the southeastern shoulder of Mingus, and proceeded southwesterly where we’d pick up the Great Western Trail, or the GWT.  The GWT dealt us it’s usual senseless beating as it would descend for miles, then smack you in the face with another stinger climb.  Finally the trail headed south in a high speed, white knuckle descent where we’d hit Cherry road and eventually cross Hwy169. 

Feral (?) horses near Ash Creek

Grasslands just south of Mayer with the Bradshaws on the horizon

From there, we continued south, though a ranch in Ash Creek, then west along a jeep road that would tie us into BCT, just north of Russian Well.  We bumped along the northern pieces of the BCT, where great flowy sections of trail would get rudely interrupted by aweful, post-holed madness until we crossed under Hwy69, just east of Mayer.  At that point, we decided to forego getting water at the Spring Valley Fire Station and push onto the Glorianna TH where we had cached several gallons of water.   We arrived at Glorianna TH, just after the sun set behind the Bradshaws, where we setup camp, built a fire, and processed the days adventure.

Day 1 done, slamming a recovering drink and resting before finding a campspot

Really bad iphone pic of the fire...

 The next morning we woke up to the standard breeze out the north, proceeded to pack up the gear and prepare the mind and body for another long day of pedaling.  We rolled south on BCT, quickly warming up, making our way across the flowing water of Black Canyon Creek, and across the Agua Fria.  There, we came up on what appeared to be a sag stop for a race.  Turns out, there was an Xterra race happening that morning and as we made our way over the next narrow sections of single track, we were greeted by throngs of trail runners.  We did the best we could, moving over on the exposed edges of the trail to let runners pass, most of them very thankful, and inched our way up the ridgeline above Rock Springs.  There we ran into Paul and Randy who were out for a morning ride and happened into the same conga-line of runners.  

Mark and I continuing our ascent up to the skyline ridge after chatting with Paul and Randy (pic courtesy of Randy)

 Finally, by the time we reached the top of the Skyline segment, the parade of runners ceased, and we bombed south towards the Pan Loop, across the white trash superhighway known as Table Mesa Road, and up the final ugly climb of the day.  Then at about 1pm, we reached Emery Hendersen TH where we’d again cached some water.  Resting for 15 minutes or so, we filled our bottles and bladders, lathered on the sunscreen, and prepared for the final push across the flats and into the urban wasteland.  Under I-17, through Anthem, south down 7^th Ave, then onto the rockless trails of the Sonoran Mountain Preserve.  From there, we made our way through the southern part of the preserve, across Cave Creek damn, and finally onto Reach 11.  There, as we spun along the flats, we were joking how we hadn’t seen a rattlesnake the entire trip (143 miles at this point), then minutes later, BAM!, Mark let’s out a “WHOA!!!” and swerves to miss a small one literally a mile or two from our destination.  We stopped, Mark snapped a few photos, and we proceeded back to my house where we toasted to a great journey with a couple green bottles.

Rattlesnake at Reach 11 (Pic from Mark)

145 miles, over 12,000 ft of climbing, and about 17 hours of actual pedal time.   

Truly a great ride with my friend Mark. These experiences always make me appreciate the cards that life has dealt me.  Covering that much ground on a bike in 2 days is what keeps me coming back.  Looking out on the horizon as the sun sets and seeing the mountain you ascended  earlier that morning is feeling hard to describe.

Get out there.  Do it while you can.  It’s not always easy, but like the small piece of tape on my handlebars say, “If it was easy, EVERYONE would do it”.   –Ray

Holy Heela!

Take 93 miles of rubly, sketchy AZT singletrack and decide to make a point to point race on it.  Call it the Gila100 and put the invite out to as many mentally unbalanced endurance junkies you know.  Then scare people with estimated finish times of 20+ hours.  Yes, that was Chad Browns wonderful idea and holy sh*t…was that a tough race.  Easily the hardest day I’ve ever spent on a bike.

The fun started at the Picket Post trailhead yesterday morning at 5AM.  About 12 of us rolled out of the lot with lights and made our way south on the AZT.  I got into a good rythmn and my eyes adjusted well to the single helmet light.  Then, about 6 or miles in, I put a foot down to get around an uphill switchback and my foot gave way causing me to knee-plant into a prickly pear…ouch.  Didn’t hurt too bad until I looked down and saw hundreds of thorns in my shin and knee.  Crap…way too early in this race for that.  I pulled as many out as I could then figured I get the rest later. 

My favorite drink, a Gila Sunrise....   (pic from Mark A.)

Make that a double.... (pic from Mark A)

As I approached Martinez Canyon, I caught Chad and then he, myself and Neil began to descend to the Gila.  We passed Aaron who was having tire troubles and then shortly after that , I sliced a sidewall on my rear tire.  Crap#2...  Luckily the slice although nearly tread to bead, wasn’t completely through the sidewall.  A little superglue and gorilla tape and I was off again.

You get this cool view of the Gila shortly after the big descent and head east...very cool!  (pic from Mark A)

Railroad bridge as you approach Kelvin...Ripsey was next big hurdle! (pic from Mark A)

I made it to Kelvin at about 10:20 where I caught Tom at the water cache.  He took off as I filled my bottles.  I proceeded up the painful climb from there and up the north switchbacks of Ripsey.  Cresting the ridgeline, I remembered from 2 weeks ago that there is still a lot of work to be done once up there…lots of ups and downs then finally the switchbacks off the south side.  As I climbed out of Ripsey wash, I saw Tom again, just ahead then caught Chad again.  I was feeling good and was able to put a little distance on both of them and reached Freeman Rd. where both Aaron and Max were resting. 

My stomach had started to turn on me so I popped a few anti-nausea pills then left to proceed towards Antelope peak.  Across the cholla fields and finally down into the wash at Beehive well where Chad flew by me.  I was thinking, holy crap, he sure got his second wind.  I stayed with him and both of us made the long, grueling, mind f*ck of a climb out of Bloodsucker wash.  A few miles before the gasline bypass ended, we put on our lights.  As the sun went down, my eyes took way too long to adapt and my speed slowed significantly.  I lost Chad and Tom soon passed me.  Finally, I hit the “6 wash” section which is a brutal game of climb, descent, repeat… I imploded…stomach was a mess, I was feeling the effect of a calorie deficite.  I found myself walking nearly every uphill grade and coasting every downhill.  I just wanted to be done by this point…

Finally, I saw the lights at the Tiger Mine trailhead where Kurt and Caroline were standing.  She took a few pictures then I made a beeline for the truck where I stumbled around to get my sleeping bag out and crawl in it…

This is what "Death warmed over" looks like...  (thanks for the pic Caroline!)