Ten on Zen – The Soggy Edition – Mooseknuckler Alliance

The clouds are hanging low as I pull into the Zen Trailhead.

There’s been a light rain coming down all morning. The ground is wet, not saturated, but headed in that direction. I’m the first sucker to pull up and park. I let the monsters out the back and then set up the awning in an attempt to have a dry space to hang out in between laps.

The usual suspect start to trickle in. The Diggers pull up, Kenny parks his van and the Knockers roll in. We cirlce the wagons with everyone popping up their awnings. We leave a space in the middle that is open air for the fire pit that John brought. We pull out the firewood. Drew rolls up and backs his truck and trailer in. We’ve got ourselves a legit compound.

Wade runs up and it seems like we are all ready to go.

Lap 1

The group rolls out.

Wade and Cami are running. The rest of us begin the pedal up to the top. Somehow I end up in the front. It becomes apparent to me very quickly that this is a bad idea. I’ve been nursing a bit of a head cold and woke up super tired. As the blood begins to pump through my body, it’s obvious that my lungs did not come prepared for any of this. I am sucking wind hard. Nothing seems to feel very good.

We make it to the top. There’s clouds hugging the mesa. The ground is wet, the sandstone is holding puddles of water. We stop at the overlook. I pull out bottle of whiskey number one. It is passed around and then stashed under a rock. I pass the lead to others and slowly make my way down the backside.

The 2nd bottle of whiskey is stashed appropriately at Whiskey Rock on the way up Hell Hole.

And then we are all back at the awning compound. There’s jokes about one and done. As much as they were met to be jokes, there’s not a lot of get up and go from the group. We all know we are going back out, but we ain’t in any kind of a hurry to do it.

The fire gets started…

Lap 2 – Whatever

Well most of us aren’t in a hurry. Drew and Kenny seem a bit more motivated than the rest of us.

As the fire gets going, there’s a bit of anxiety that pulses through the group. Sit here too long and it’s going to be incredibly difficult to leave the warmth. Drew and Kenny head out first and then the rest of us begin a slow migration away from the fire.

I’m the last to head out putting myself squarely where I belong, at the back. Instead of trying to stay ahead of everyone, I fall into a slow repetitive speed keeping my heart rate low enough that I’m not gasping for air the entire time.

The climb is uneventful. The group is waiting at the top and the bottle of whiskey is passed around again. We head down, again with me in the back. The down is also uneventful and again there is a group waiting at Whiskey Rock for me as the straggler. Those who chose, take a swig and then we head back toward the awning village.

The fire is still going and gets stoked upon arrival. A few more people have shown up and the circle of wagons has grown.

At this point, the group has kind of fallen into their own paces. Drew is in and out pretty quickly, he’s gunning for some laps. Kenny follows him after a sandwich as he’s got a number he’d like to hit as well. The runners come and go. The rest of us are doing our thing, milling about, sipping coffee/whiskey, enjoying the fire.

Mama Bear and I had agreed that the dogs were only to do two laps. So I sat waiting for her to come get the dogs.

Lap 3 – I might die

The group had dismantled, more or less. Kenny and Drew were now completely on their own schedule and it was painfully obvious to me that there was no way I could keep up with anyone.

Everyone filed out of our “camp” and I sat waiting for Mama Bear and getting cold.

A group of dudebros had also shown up to ride. They headed up the climb with the bravado that they are stereotypically known. A few minutes later, the Yota popped up on the horizon. I was ready to ride as everyone had left and I was doing nothing more than getting cold. She pulled up and we got the dogs loaded into the truck lickity split and I headed out for what would be my last lap.

My legs had cooled down and getting them to warm back up did not feel good. My lungs were still upset about the whole ordeal and the rest of my body had yet to show up for the main event. I slowly, but steadily made my way up the climb. Coming around through the grotto I caught the group of dudebroerinos. Peirce was with them and he jumped in behind me which was probably painful for him to go that slow, but we had a nice conversation up to the overlook.

I can’t recall which means that I most likely had a little whiskey. I mean, what was it going to hurt? I was barely moving and I already knew this was my final lap. My brand spanking new 5010 sounded the way my body felt at this point. The wet sand had migrated through about everything with the rain.

I had put everyone else in the group ahead of me and they disappeared quickly. I was left to my slow, coasting ways. Despite feeling like garbage, I did enjoy the downhill. There was some bikepacking through lower Zen, but I made it back to the circled wagons to put my last hash mark on the board.

Of course, things just devolved from there.

From Cami

My thoughts on Ten on Zen. Running Zen is hard. I had to run Zen since I couldn’t ride this year. It was cold and wet but I would rather run in cold and wet than ride in it. So lucky me!

Drew’s Report

I live about 1/4 mile from the Zen trailhead, so it’s my go-to morning ride before work. In January 2023 I was out for my regular morning ride and I saw John Taylor (whom I had met from Nozenber a couple months earlier) with a table set up outside of his van and a curious board of names. I stopped to ask him about it and learned about the infamous “10 on Zen” event. This is also when I was introduced to the intrepid group of outdoor enthusiasts known as the Moose Knuckler Cycling Alliance.

That morning I had other plans so I was only able to get in 3 laps, but the uniqueness of the event stuck in my mind and I said I would be back. The 2024 event was approaching and I was excited to see what I could do. I had been riding Zen regularly for a few months and was looking forward to it. I think we all were a bit disheartened when the forecast was nothing but rain for the weekend, but MooseKnuckler promised that “there will be mitigations”. I wasn’t sure what that meant – had he invented some new kind of cycling umbrella?

Sure enough, on the day of the ride the skies were filled with clouds and it ended up raining most of the day, but the hearty alliance kicked off at 8am, undeterred. I was a bit late for the kickoff and still unloading when the boat horn went off, but I scrambled up the hill to catch the group of about 5 riders leading off the first lap.The attached picture shows this group at the top of the climb on lap 1. We rode down together periodically regrouping as we tried unsuccessfully to dodge the rain.

Back at camp the vans were in a circle and there was a fire in the middle and awnings to get a bit of respite after each lap. The rain was wreaking havoc on my drivetrain, so between each lap I would put my bike on a stand and wipe it down and lube the drivetrain before heading out for another lap. After about 3 laps the group started to thin out, but the Mayor was always heading out for 1 more. Rumor had it that he intended to do 6 laps, so I decided I would try to do 7.

The day was long and folks were packing up, but I headed out for my seventh lap. . I was completely wiped out after seven cold and wet laps. I was soaked to the bone, exhausted, and cold. When I returned from the last lap only John and Shalena were still at the camp – packing up the board, the empty cans, and the last vestiges of the gathering spot that we used throughout the day to warm up and recharge our bodies and spirits between each lap. Big thanks to the Alliance for an unforgettable day! I can’t wait to try again in 2025.