Thursday night I could not sleep. I kept having nightmares of not getting the course marked in time and trying to have the LIT in the dark whilst people couldn’t see and fell off of the edge.
In said dreams, I would show up just before the race was supposed to start and then frantically begin marking with whatever I had, garbage bag, ribbon, dirty socks. I also found there was a school and a park fully populated with people on the Mesa and I had to reroute everything to avoid running right through the middle of a lunch room. The one thing that wasn’t included in these nightmares was rain or locusts. There weren’t any locusts for sure.
Contrary to the hellish scenes drawn up by my own insecurities, KB and I got the truck loaded and were at the Yurts right around noon. We took a quick lap on the dirt road section of the LIT course and then ran into Physics Brian. After helping unload some wood, we pedaled the rest of the route and had it marked in about 30 minutes. KB was particularly weary of the right turn once we hit the rim and decided she would be a course marshal for this particular section to ensure that part of my nightmare didn’t come to fruition.
We ate a burrito and popped the first of our beers before heading out on Gander to see how things were looking out that way. It looked like this:
Or at least it was until we turned around. The sky was dark and there was a descent breeze coming our direction. We made it back to camp just before 4 and the sky no longer looked promising. In fact, it looked fucking menacing. That combined with the forecast that had been bouncing around in my brain for the past 3-5 days and I was not in the best of moods.
Kenny and Heather had shown up. Nebraska Scott rolled up along with the Pratt/Chacon contingency. The precipitation started to fall just as we were sharing a beer around the truck. As it picked up momentum, we all repaired to the yurt to decide what was to be done. It was quickly explained to Scott that the road was the issue and that shit gets buried in it when it’s wet.
As the rain continued to pound our semi-permanent residence, those who had made it to SSUT on time were presented with the question I had hoped to avoid, should we move venues. Those with two-wheeled drive vehicles held some weight and the group opted to get the fuck off the mesa. Of course, about the time we got everything loaded back up, several more showed up and the rain had more or less ceased. At this point there was no looking back, SSUT would be in SG.
There may or may not have been tears as we drove off the mesa, but based on the current sky and forecast, things were only going to get much worse.
The crowd broke up into a couple of groups crashing at various houses. The AZ crowd made it to the Lounge where they readied themselves for some urban camping. As you can see in the above photo, there may or may not have been some cooking on the sidewalk. I can also confirm that there were Bagel Bites cooking on said grill.
As the rest of us were in need of sustenance, we made our way to Jazzy’s Rock and Roll Grill where there was to be a Neil Young cover band playing. We all paid our five dollar cover charge and sat down to enjoy some eats and the music. As the party started to gain some traction, the “cover band” started to play. The band consisted of one girl and … that was it. Our group was loud enough that no one could hear what she was playing. The only reason we knew she was playing was due to the occasional clapping and the fact that her hand was moving up and down as if she was strumming the guitar.
Once she finished her set, we were done with paying five bucks for a beer when there were plenty back at the Lounge that had already been purchased. We gathered up the few that were starting to get sloppy and made the three block walk back to the campsite. Tents were thrown up in the backyard and camp chairs were set up in the front. Scott’s cooler was set front and center and the Alliance provided a bottle of whiskey.
Which pretty much took care of Friday.
Saturday was supposed to be the “race.” Seeing that there was pretty much no way I was going to be able to setup a course in the time available, we went just went for a ride. Leaving the Lounge, we headed over to Roll the ‘dise and hit the Crick. The AZ crew requested trail that people didn’t like to walk down. I figured we would start here.
And then have some lunch and move our way over to the Barrel Ride and Zen. After a few mishaps, a couple of beers and about 8 miles we hit the Chute. Those who know this move know it is a bit of a mind fuck. It’s narrow and has little drop in the middle as you roll the steeps. If you are running wide bars it will certainly make you feel like you are going to become wedged in the middle.
The BPR crowd was rocking klunkers and only one of those had a front brake. If you’ve ever tried to ride a coaster brake off road, you know how difficult it is to control your braking. They tend to be on or off.
Both of them made the Chute.
Right on! We moved onto the trials section of Owen’s Loop and then back around to the Notch and just for good measure we came down the Brooks Nature Park Trail which if you haven’t ridden and like a good nasty downhill, you should give it a go.
The ride took us a bit longer than expected due to a broken wheel and sight seeing (read beer drinking). We started after ride recovery drinks around 1 and lunch around 2. To be able to get the LIT started at 5, things were getting tight for logistics. Scott and Ashley headed out to ride Zen and skip the competition while the rest of us loaded up the bikes with booze and lights and pedaled our way to CasaZen.
Heather was the Monkey Master (© Stanley Hawks) and gave us all the run down. For safety and navigational purposes, Kenny gave us a pre-LIT lap. And then with a chug of a beer, we were all off like a herd of turtles. Or at least some of us were. Not only was there a huge disparity in the speed of riders but also of the speed of chuggers. For some reason, the faster the beer lap, the faster the bike lap. I don’t have official numbers because none were taken, but I think we can give the fastest of both to Jamon.
I for one never took a full lap and am the world’s slowest beer chugger.
Once the laps were finished and the beers had been chugged, we all sat enjoying the sunset as Heather tallied her many notes to determine the winner.
After proving String Theory and completing an entire course of multi-variable calculus, she determined that Jolly Rogers was the winner. If my brain serves me correctly, he came out with something like 100 points. There was cheering and jeering and the party continued.
At this point, my memories get really fuzzy.
The last thing I really remember was James coming down the forbidden Jacuzzi Drop missing the edge and dropping his front wheel into the water. This launched him right over his bars as he slammed his head into the side of the Jacuzzi. And that’s all I remember. From what I’m told, he knocked himself out cold and kind of just laid there for a second while everyone tried to decide what to do.
And then things went downhill from there.
To finish off the evening, I crashed while pulling BOB home spilling what was left of the beer all across the Boulevard. Of course, I was more worried about recovery our drinks than I was about getting out of the way of traffic. All in all, everyone made it back to the Lounge.
Sunday rolled in with some heavy clouds. The rain that had been threatening all weekend looked to be finally showing up. As the last day of SSUT, this was supposed to be the No Dabs contest. The AZ crew hoped to be able to make it to Goose and headed that direction as it was on the way home. After seeing their photos of their ride, it looked as if we should have just stayed at the yurts all weekend. Fuck me!
The rest of us headed out from CasaZen to ride the Barrel Ride and Zen. Things were a little damp and we found a bit of mud, but the sun was out and looking good until we topped out at the dirt road and the sprinkles started. We continued to pedal and by the time we hit the junction with the downhill it was raining pretty good. The group consensus was to head back. Within minutes we were not only bombing back down but the rain was coming down in sheets. By the time we were on the dirt road heading toward the house, everything was flooding.
And by flooding I mean flooding. The road was covered, the trail was running and all the drainages were flowing fierce. I dropped my front wheel into several holes where it stopped me dead and the water was well over my axle. But as this weekend went, by the time we got back to CasaZen not only had the rain let up but it had completely stopped. We all borrowed the outside showers rinsing the sand and mud from ourselves and our bikes.
And then enjoyed the last beer of SSUT.
As the winner of the LIT, Jolly Rogers took the whole damn thing. We never had the race and the No Dabs contest got rained out meaning Jolly is the first Utah Singlespeed State Champion.
Hopefully next year allows for some mesa riding, but if not, I’m sure we’ll come up with a Plan B that’s worth taking pictures of.
P. L. and R.
