Per tradition, the group gather in front of the Mooseknuckler Cycling Alliance Social Lounge a little before 5:30 pm. It’s a Thursday. One of those days that responsible normies are wasting time at work. At the Lounge, seven hopefulls are readying their gear. Doing last second strap checks, firing up gps devices and worrying about whether they remembered to up in that one pair of pants so they have something to hang out in around a campfire. Snacks are already being consumed in anxious expectation that said consumer will be calorically deficient soon. The body knows.
There’s not a lot of pomp and circumstance at Alliance events. The most you’ll ever get for a start is if the Diggers show up with the plastic horn they won at Singlespeed Nevada a few years ago. If that happens, you’ll get some blasting honky noise, but normally, it’s just a set time and …. rolling.
This was the case for the 2024 Ultraknuckle.
I watched my watch as the six other folks gathered around. Once everyone was more or less there and the second hand stuck 5:30, I said something non-ceremonial and we rolled out. for the first time in the event’s existence, there were more geared bikes than singlespeed. A 5 to 2 ratio to be exact and when you add in Karl, who started several hours after everyone else, it was a wopping 6-2. Compared to last year where we had one geared rider at the start line and one more that joined en route, well, something was amis.
The Field
- Elijah Huges – Geared
- Nate Washburn – Geared
- Kenny Jones – Singlespeed and carrying his ukele
- Shelby Meinkey – Geared
- Moose Knuckler – Geared (yea, there were reasons…)
- Pete Rognli – Singlespeed
- Elliot Lockwood – Geared
- Karl Jarvis – Geared and started after the grand depart
Gears, Moose?
Alright, let’s get into it.
April was stacked. The Ultraknuckle was the culmination of 5 weekends straight being out of town and 3 straight that were, at the minimum half of something hard (we ran a half marathon, don’t ask). This left me with scant time to plan/ready my bike that is no longer a singlespeed designed frame. This left me with the option of switching to an untested and semi-worn out singlespeed setup with no time to test or just leaving the gears on and going for it.
I thought gears might be fun, maybe it will be a different experience. Well, I didn’t finish, so yea, it was a different experience, but I’m not sure you can blame the gears entirely. There was many a factor, not the least being the stacked schedule we had decided to torture ourselves with.
My Ride Report
The Monday prior, which happened to coincide with the Monday after RAWROD, I woke up with an itchy throat and drippy nose that wouldn’t quit until sometime on Thursday. My plan for the week was to rest. While I didn’t do much in the way of exercise, I detest being sick which usually means I have to have a few drinks to get through it. This does not aid in recovery, or at least I’m told it doesn’t.
By the time Thursday afternoon hit, my legs were still tired, my nose was raw from blowing it non-stop for four days and in general, I was just fatigued. Of course, the show must go on, so I got my shit ready and lined up with the rest of them. As soon as we got pedaling, I could feel the fatigue. I just hoped it would fade as I warmed up and just continued cranking.
Kenny and I took a demanding lead when the lead group missed the first turn off of City Creek. We pedaled together as the sun faded in the west making our way to the top of Ice House. There was some discussion of where to camp. I didn’t really want to repeat last year and camp down below the road cut close to the houses, but also didn’t want to be on the edge or too high. A few sites were assessed as we cruised down the descent. About half way down, we found a place that had a few flat spots, seemed to fit the bill, had a view and it was still just light enough we could get camp set up. We agreed on the location and made camp right off the trail.
The pack had been broken up into three groups. Kenny and I in the lead followed by Shelby, Elijah and Nate who had added to the adventure by doing more of City Creek. And then Elliot and Pete who had gone looking for a stray water bottle that was quickly ejected from its stowed location as soon as we hit some chunk. Everyone made camp except Elijah who wanted to get some more miles in before the heat hit the next day. This was probably a wise decision.
Bad jokes and anecdotes were passed around while Kenny did some serenading on the ukele, but as the sun dropped so did the energy. Soon the camp was quiet with only the occasional chain saw of a snore to disturb our slumber.
The morning broke with groans. The camp slowly came alive as coffee and breakfast were prepared and consumed. A couple of us were out of water so there wasn’t much more to do than pack up and head down the trail. Luckily, we were no more than 30 minutes from a Maverick and soon we were brushing our teeth in their parking lot and filling back up the water supply.
The group now consisted of Shelby, Kenny, Nate and myself. Elijah was ahead. Elliot and Pete had stayed at camp and Karl was somewhere back there. We had not seen him at this point and only knew he was coming thanks to Nate.
Even in the morning light as we resupplied at the Maverick, it was warm, borderline hot.
The group stuck together as we made our way to the Grapevine Trailhead and then rode Prospector over to the Harrisburg Gap and then slowly into Hurricane. We hit town and everyone was ready for some food. The Main Street Cafe wasn’t very busy and we were able to get a table immediately. We had either a second breakfast or a first lunch depending on your perspective.
Feeling good after some sustenance, we rolled to the park to top off our water. No dice. Luckily, Red Rock Bicycle Hurricane is just a few blocks away and we rolled over. Some candy was bought and everyone filled up on cold, filtered water which was a welcome luxury. Then it was up the cliffs.
Realitively comfortable as how the morning had started. As soon as we headed up the Three Falls Trail, that all changed. It was hot. We were tired and had lots of miles to go. The group accordioned as some pulled ahead, others dropped behind and then the roles would reverse. We were mostly together and hit the hike-a-bike up Little Creek together. #itsnotbikepackingtillyourepushing
We found a campsite and the group collapsed into the shade. It was about 2:30.
Elijah was just ahead of us at this point out somewhere on Little Creek. After a siesta, I knew, from past experience, that we had to get Little Creek done or it could turn south quick. Kenny, Nate and I decided to go in search of water and then knock out that mesa before dinner. We found a currently out of use cowpond. The water was warm, kind of tasted like ass, but it was water. We all filled up to the minimum that we thought we needed and then headed toward the trailhead.
My legs burned with every effort. Normally, the mesas bring me a burst of energy. I just love riding them so much that I don’t care how tired I am, I can just go. Not this time. Regardless, we made our way around the loop giving Nate his first ride on Little Creek.
Rolling back into camp a little after 5, we found Shelby right where we left him and Elijah had joined the party. Shortly after, JT Digger showed up with water, ice, and beer for any who wanted it. We all wanted it. Elliot and Pete also rolled up. Soon there was a buzz rolling in camp and we were all feeling pretty good. Karl rolled in as well. The whole group was together for the first and last time. Elijah and Nate refilled on water and as the sun began to set, headed out hoping to get some more miles as the temperatures slowly dropped. Karl was going to knock out Little Creek, but once he learned the typical timeframe and the navigational challenges that would be exaserbated in the dark, he opted to do it the next morning. A fire was built, Mama Bear showed up with more stuff to share and soon the sunset and the camp slowly went quiet again.
I awoke before the sunrise with zero desire to ride a bike. Moving was a struggle and I just couldn’t get any motivation going. As the camp stirred and plans came out, it was obvious that I wasn’t the only one. Shelby was heading home through Werner Valley. Kenny had no plans to go past the yurts. Elliot and Pete were also headed home. By the time we were moving, I was loaded in John’s 4Runner headed over to meet Kenny at the White Trailhead to finish out my Ultraknuckle by riding the Goose.
It was apparent that I had made the right decision. Riding my favorite trail and I was just like, blah. Get me back to beer.
And that’s where it ended. For the first time in Ultraknuckle history, I did not pedal my ass home. John drove me to the Lounge from Goose. And we spent the rest of the weekend dot watching and hypothesizing about where everyone was.
Finishers
Nate and Elijah made it back to the Lounge sometime when we weren’t there (sorry guys). Karl, who remember started well after the rest of the group and spent a good chunk of Friday working in Hurricane, came rolling in a little after 5. From what I gather, Sunday was a fist fight with the wind, but luckily, the heat abated and the riding was pleasant.
Nate
Some things about that ride I would say it was a incredibly fun way to link up all of those trails and was definitely worth all the suffering along the way.
Elijah
Elliot
Elliot blasphemously says (though a wise editor would withhold): The transcendent burger & Pepsi product experience at Main St Cafe was decidedly the highlight of the ride.
Shelby
Until next year…
Embrace Chaos. Seek Discomfort.
