I pulled the car over just past Crescent Junction. It’s 12:45 AM. My eyes are dry from attempting to see between the reflective lines painted on the highway. We left the house around 8 and having been flying down the road every since. The stop is partly to get my other Mountain Dew and partly so I can stand up and feel the cool breeze. It’s not all that cool. I pull the soda out of the ice chest. I stretch and let out a loud sigh. I think about doing some jumping jacks to get the blood flowing, but I’m tired. I sit back down and open the Dew take a swig and pull back onto the road. It’s only another 30 miles.
KB and I are en route to Moab for the 2nd Annual Sperduto-Roberts Get Together for Climbing and Riding. I would give a quick summary of the last year’s festivities but I can’t recall anything that happened. Needless to say, it was a good time and we were ecstatic to be on the way to experience it all over again. Except at that moment just before 1 AM when the road lines were starting to melt and the asphalt hummed a song that overcame the music blasting from the stereo and the sunflower seeds churning in my mouth seemed to not be enough to keep my mind in the conscience world.
We only stop for shade or at least that is the mantra bouncing around in my boiling skull. The only problem, there isn’t much shade and the sandstone is reflecting the morning’s sun or maybe a better way to put that would be that the sun is being amplified by the sandstone’s reflection. We knew it was going to be warm. We left early and carried plenty of water, but hot is hot and this felt that way.
Despite the heat, there was no lack of stoke. We headed up Hymasa which is a well built climb to the start of Captain Ahab bypassing the Amasa double track. The trail was one of those that makes the going up feel like you aren’t really, you know, going up. Which to be honest made me missing the chunk and hike-a-bikes that Amasa offers. How’s that for complaining about well built single track?
If you haven’t ridden Ahab, it is something you should do. None of the moves are difficult but they sure have a mind fuck aspect to them. You will roll up onto a stack of rocks without being able to see what is off the other side and your brain immediately goes, hey stupid this is a bad idea. And if you can keep yourself from giving into the logical side, your front wheel will finally peak out and you will see that the whole thing will roll and roll nicely.
The conversation you are having with the angel and devil on your shoulders goes something like this.
“What is this?”
“Who knows. It’s best to play it safe. Let’s check it out before you die.”
“Fuck that, I bet you can ride it. No problem. Just go for it.”
“Hold on, you can’t even see what is on the other side. I’m not saying no, I’m just saying let’s get all the facts first.”
“That means we have to stop, get off the bike, walk around in tap shoes, realize that it’s rideable and then walk back up the trail. I say we go for it.”
And at that point, your front wheel pops over the top and the voices die because your concentration just became dialed. You control the bike, wobble a little and drop down the line. No Problem. Yup, that’s Captain Ahab.
On the way back down, I stop to wait for the group. KB rolls up and says that Sean’s got issues and might need a hand. I roll back up the trail to find Sean and some Rado trying to undo one of the best laid chain traps I have ever seen. After assessing the situation, we were forced to use a tiny screwdriver (think about two inches long) as leverage to pry out on the cassette as one of us held the wheel steady and the other tugged on the chain. I don’t know what God Sean worships, but I have no idea how that chain got so stuck and didn’t bend or destroy the hanger. Once extracted, Sean was able to ride the rest of the weekend with zero issues. Unbelievable.
Day two: The Whole Enchilada
This ain’t no Americanized, buy it at Toca Slime burrito. No, this is a 5 pound, eat it in under an hour and we’ll give you another and your photo on the wall type of burrito. The Enchilada starts by climbing up to Burro Pass. Burro Pass is high. When we got there the wind was ripping to the point that if you lifted your bike, the wind would pull it out of your hands. Speaking was difficult and there was a fog settling over the peaks around us.
KB had a panic attack and so we head off the other side to find less windy places. The drop off the pass is steep as shit. 1200 feet in about a half mile steep. The trail is rocky, rutted and makes for an interesting descent. After crossing the stream several times and continuing to drop for what seems like forever, we hit Hazard County.
Hazard County continues to drop. It’s a little less steep, the turns were at one point bermed and we begin making good time. In no time, we make Kokapelli which is a double track down to UPS and then LPS. UPS and LPS are kind of more SG style riding. Sandstone ups and downs, tight turns. Fun stuff.
And then there is the Porcupine Double Track from Hell.
If you started the ride at this point, this road would hurt. Starting the ride a few hours earlier and with quite a few rough, steep miles behind you and this road is fucking torture. I knew this going into the ride. I also knew that my rigid bike was not the ideal bike to be bombing this on. I was just hoping to survive. As such, I went into Navy Seal Mission mode, get in and get out as quickly as possible with the least amount of collateral damage.
KB attached herself to my rear wheel and we rode the shit out of that dirt road. There were two guys rocking Nomads that had passed us on UPS and we had caught a few times when they had stopped to rest. We caught them, passed ’em and didn’t see them again until we stopped at the end of the two track to wait for the rest of the group. My feet were numb, my shoulders, wrists, calves and hands were done. This is the first ride I’ve done in a long time where I questioned the riding of the rigid bike. I might not age, but I am too old for this shit.
Just as KB and I were getting comfortable, it started to sprinkle. And then it started to rain. And then it came down in sheets. We found a small cave we could sit in and waited as the rest of the group got pelted by the downpour. By the time we were ready to ride again, the rock was completely wet and we now needed to descend off the side of the mesa down to the Colorado. Things were interesting. Knowing that I wouldn’t have traction made me question sections that wouldn’t even have been on the radar otherwise.
Needless to say, we made it out.
As we return through Crescent Junction the weekend unfold before me. I remember the drive there that sucked balls, the Ahab and Enchilada adventures. Plus, the camp fires and climbing that I haven’t even touched on. And I can’t help but wonder if there will be a 3rd Annual Sperduto-Roberts Get Together for Climbing and Riding. Based on the first two, I sure hope so.
P. L. and R.
They’re will be another, how quickly we forget.