It’s 6:12 p.m. on a Wednesday. I’m eating because I’m anxious. I might as well be pacing back and forth incessantly, but instead, I snack.
5:35 p.m. I’m ready. All my clothes are laid out so I can change right before leaving. My bike is packed with minimal supplies: three ProBars, water, sleeping pad, pillow, quilt and my sandals for wandering around once I lay everything out for the night. Now I wait for everyone else to show up so I can start pedaling. Let the anxious waiting begin.
6:37 p.m. Pete and Zach roll up. I’m waiting on the porch and immediately jump up to get going. I wouldn’t say I’m worried about the time, lights are attached to my bars, but dropping into the Suicidal Saddle on a loaded bike in the dark, does make me think. Top that off that I have a sneaking suspicion that it will be Pete’s first time on that trail and I’ve got things to consider and keep my monkey brain busy for the next little bit.
6:58 p.m. Pedaling. Once we started moving, all the anxiety and excess energy sheds to the side. My brain clears, my legs warm up and I am stoked to be moving. Zach has gears and is leading the paved approach out to Gates Lane where will start our climb. I’m about 30 yards behind him spinning like hell to try and keep up on the singlespeed. I spin as fast as I can until my legs are about to burn out and then coast. Spin. Coast. Spin Coast. Repeat in a desperate effort to keep up.
7:32 p.m. Zach and I are at the Y at the top of Sidewinder. A dudebro had passed us on his way out and is now coming back around the loop at the top. He stops, concerned. He asks us if we have lights for the descent. I just nod. Zach politely says yes. He has no idea that we won’t be descending tonight, but yes we have lights for the next section of our adventure.
7:41 p.m. With lights blazing, we stop at the start of Suicidal Tendencies. Not only is it Pete’s first time, I found out that it is Zach’s as well. I warn them that that the 2nd and 3rd turns are quite exposed even if the dark cloaks that exposure. We push off. Zach is just behind me and I can hear him braking and giggling as we take the tight switchbacks dropping into the saddle. With our lights the exposure is cloaked in an abyss of black. You know it’s there, but you can’t tell how far down it would be if you missed the turn.
7:53 p.m. We hit the bottom of the descent. I stop to make sure everyone is alive, or at the very least, still moving.
7:54 p.m. We start the climb up the other side of the saddle. Zach keeps saying how rad this trail is. I have to agree. I mention to him my “spooky” experiences being out here alone. We both have a good laugh and continue to crank the pedals.
8:02 I stop just before we wrap around the last exposed turn and pop out to the top of the mesa. We regroup and I assure everyone that we are all but done with the exposure and about to have a nice climb up singletrack to camp. We talk about the giant moon staring us down and agree to see if we can find some flat spots under Junipers to block its light.
8:06 p.m. I don’t stop, but I slow down and make sure that everyone sees that I went right at the junction. I usually ride this part the opposite direction but head this way knowing that there is a pocket of trees that would give us the best chance of finding a campsite that blocks out the moon. We keep pedaling. I slow down and even stop a couple times to scope out pockets under some Junipers. We find some spots that could work, but nothing that we would call ideal. We continue to climb.
8:23 p.m. We hit the top. There are less flat spots than I remember, but enough for each of us to find a home for the night.
The wind is ripping. Duh. We all know we shouldn’t sleep on the edge of a mesa but somehow, we always end up camped at the top, on the edge of a cliff and have a windy night. I use rocks to ensure my pad and quilt don’t go hurling over the edge and lay out the few things I brought for the night. As is my habit, I pop a beer and drink it while chugging a little bit of water.
8:36 p.m. I text Mama Bear to let her know we made it and to say good night.
9:26 p.m. The conversation dies. Zach walks away and gets in his bag. I can see Pete’s light is still on for a bit and I assume he is reading or passed out without realizing it was still on. I stare at the stars and let my eyes close and snap open over and over again until they don’t open.
12:18 a.m. I’m an old man. I sit up. Grab my dromedary and place it on top of my feet to keep my quilt in place in the wind. I push my pillow down into the depths and grab a rock to put on the other end of my pad. I waddle on over to the edge of the trail and find a spot that I can not pee into the wind and have it not end up on Pete and Zach who are sleeping downwind of me. Yea, it’s that windy. The moon is huge and bright. The decision to only bring my riding lights was a good one. Headlamps are not required to see.
2:36 a.m. I’m up again for another pee break.
5 a.m. My alarm goes off ripping me from sleep. I fumble around to find my phone and turn the damn thing off. A few moments later Pete’s alarm goes off. I’m in and out of sleep, but I can hear him getting ready. He has to be back to real life by 8, so we knew he would be up early and riding home alone.
5:27 a.m. A bright light is suddenly in my eyes. My first thought is Zach wasn’t joking about getting up early, but I didn’t think he was talking this early. Then I see a German Shepherd dragging a runner behind him. I laugh to myself thinking about what was going through his head as he happened upon two random guys sleeping almost on the trail before dawn has broke.
6:38 a.m. I hear Zach moving around. I guess it’s time to wake up. I start the process and then the sound stops, I push myself back into my quilt for a few more minutes. Then the rustling starts again and I know it’s time. We break camp quickly and hit the trail before the sun has breached the horizon which is defined by the darkness bordering an orange line that is strikingly beautiful.
7:06 a.m. I turn my lights off.
7:15 a.m. We hit the junction with Barrel Roll. Zach says he wants to ride over to Elusion and around. I’m in.
7:48 a.m. We hit the turn off to the Rim Jobs. Zach is ahead of me. I holler that I’m peeling off to go hit some more singletrack. He yells back and we each head our own way.
8:12 a.m. I’m climbing and my legs feel like lead. I blame the lack of coffee, chug a little water and suck it up. With my head down and the legs mashing at the one gear on my bike, I make it around the Rim Jobs without seeing another soul. As I finish, I am feeling pretty depleted. In hindsight, this is the point I should have eaten some food and chugged some water, but that wasn’t what I did.
8:51 a.m. I hit Stucki. I feel like I’m pedaling through molasses in January. The bike doesn’t want to go forward and it feels like my brakes are on. It doesn’t help my mental space to know that my rear rotor is bent and I can hear it rubbing every revolution. I struggle on still not eating.
9:07 a.m. I finish up Jay’s Wash and hit the Junction to head down the Poppy Trail. The way I feel I’m positive I can’t make the climb, but somehow I do. I begin the descent down toward the parking lot. Even going downhill, I feel like garbage.
9:34 a.m. I hit the trailhead. I know I am about out of water, but I don’t feel like refilling so I don’t.
9:42 a.m. On the bike path, the last leg to home. I finally stop and refill my water bottle with the remaining water out of my dromedary. I pull a ProBar out and devour it. An old guy in a hyperviz jacket pedals by on an old steel road bike. I drop in behind him my singlespeed pace pretty much exactly what his is. Some other old dudes on road bikes pass us saying good morning. The guy I am pacing tries to keep up, but he is effort doesn’t even come close to matching theirs.
9:50 a.m. I’m glad I ate something. I’m feeling better but still pretty crappy.
9:59 a.m. I open my back door and walk in peeling my backpack off I realize that I have been sweating profusely. Way more than I thought and definitely more than I was rehydrating. My legs are stiff, but I’m done. I sit down to pull my shoes off and giggle. I didn’t even ride 40 miles and I successfully destroyed myself.
It was a perfect Midweek Overnighter.
P. L. and R.
