Why discount those miles you ask? Because they took me over 11 hours to complete and we would have far less than that to beat the darkness home on this adventure.
The route was to be a reversal of the previous Presko Epic that I had completed with Andy last November. Starting at the town square, we'd roll out through the Spars and down to Peeples Valley. Yarnell would offer us the entry to one of the steepest and longest paved downhills Arizona has to offer and drop us off into Congress. From there it would be some rolling terrain into Wickenburg for a lunch stop. This would be the half way point, and after that the most boring stretch would last about 25 miles before making it to Sun City. Beyond that the ride would get far less stressful as the Grand Canal would be followed back to home.
Forecast was for good weather with some wind. Seemed we'd be starting at around 36 degrees and finishing in the mid-70's. Nothing but sun the entire route. It was decided that those from Scottsdale planning to ride all the way back would all drive up together come Saturday morning. We'd meet the rest of the group in Prescott and from there some would ride to Wickenburg, the rest would be committed for the whole enchilada. Around 130 miles of paved bliss... or hell, depending on the mood.
A Good Day to Grind
Wow... everyone was actually to the house on time. The bikes were loaded and despite the morning haze still grasping to pull down heavy eyelids spirits were high. As we pulled away, everyone began to discuss what final gear and food selection they had chosen for the epic. It then dawned on Sarah that she had forgotten to bring her shoes. Thad was far enough away to basically be back home so we took a quick detour and grabbed the orphaned foot wear. I can only imagine the cries of disappointed they must have omitted watching Sarah walk out the door only and hour before, leaving them behind with hopes of ride participation dashed.Thankfully their heartache was fleeting and once tossed in the back of the HyHi we were truly off.
A quick stop just before Prescott revealed some colorful want ads crudely taped to the side of a convenience store. At first glance it seemed as if a tiger had escaped, then been found and now was looking for it's home. Other intriguing example of hyphenation, punctuation and capitalization were on display as well. Amazing anything gets sold or found up there, although I'll keep the job opportunities in mind should the move to Prescott happen at some point. We gave Andooke a call to let them know we were just minutes away from the square.
It was almost freezing outside. The riders suited up while Micki and Brooke supported our efforts by chatting in the car. Every once in a while rolling down a window to receive an update on our departure time. I revealed my unstoppable gray and orange argyle socks only to be one-upped by Jeremy's unbelievable helmet selection. Andy had chosen and wonderfully safe and matching luminescent green outfit which helped emphasize his new bar configuration.
The group readies itself:
Relax now my friend, for soon there will be no mercy given:
Suited, clipped, velcroed, hydrated,fueled, bundled and wrapped. Six of us now had steeds beneath us and seemingly endless miles ahead of us. Steamy breath marked the crisp air and I said my goodbyes to Micki. She and Brooke were to meet Danielle once the sun had power to overcome the chill and hit up some trails while we toiled away on the road. Brooke would then head down to Wickenburg to retrieve the half-SkoPedallers and then cruise down to Scottsdale so we could all meet up for a meal at the end.
Away from the square now traffic was non-existent. The hills of the Spars began right away. Toby was very familiar with this section and would be able to help with regroup points and tutorials about the difficult sections before they approached. You see, Toby seems to be able to talk in calm and complete sentences regardless of grade of effort required. It's impressive until you realize all your response must be in short, multi- word bursts between strained breaths... then it becomes a bit depressive.
With memories fairly fresh from the Presko Epic, I knew these mountains would be tough. I had imagined long grinds up and up with little rest. I knew there would be more down in this direction, but I hadn't let myself get to hopeful. The goal was to pace myself accordingly to complete the ride with a good showing. The only problem was I had no idea what that pace might actually be.
We saw our first snow banks in the first 30 minutes of pedaling. The wind was gusty and would trick you into thinking of it as an ally, only to hurl itself at you around the next bend. We regrouped once or twice at the summits. I found I could spin much quicker than expected and with a conscious effort could stay behind Toby on most of the downhill sections despite running only one gear. Jeremy was in the same singlespeed boat, but his hyper efficient Ironman body lacked the brownie assist found at my waist line, preventing gravity from hurling him down the mountain regardless of drafting.
Jeremy leaving the Spars:
Sarah exits as well:
Hills... You Will Pay for Your Chosen Grade
After the somewhat eventful regroup at the red convenience store, we were off to Yarnell. Why not just a normal stop you ask? Well, Andy chose to speak out for the group and let a rather scary looking individual driving an even scarier looking old Jeep know that he had accidentally encroached our area by cutting his right turn a little to sharp. With that, this... shall we loosely say "gentleman" flipped a aggressive and highly illegal u-turn to seemingly make sure he understood the statement. I thought at first he was probably going to come back to apologize, but instead he glared blankly straight through all of us. Adjust his worn and most likely blood stained leather work gloves, he sped off in the direction we were just getting ready to travel.
Assuming he'd slowly pick us off one by one either with bumper or rusty hatchet... I took up the back of the pack so I'd be the first to go and have the least amount of miles to ride.
The endless downgrade took it's toll on Jeremy and I and we were forced to coast. His sweet helmet diverting the air and created some sort of vortex behind me that just drug me along with little pedaling effort on my part. Flyweight Sarah even dropped us both and went fluttering rain jacket away until she was just a tiny spec in the distance.
Regrouping at the Skull Valley exit, the terrain finally began to fluctuate a bit more and the next series of climbs began to reveal themselves. Now, for reasons I can't explain and only 30 miles or so into this adventure... I decided I might as well just crush these hills. Now I don't mean just kill 'em, but out and out slay them! The grade got steeper, I dug deeper. Up and up and up and I just kept grinding harder. My legs screamed, breath gasped and heart rate skyrocketed but I didn't really care. I was going to destroy this hill even if it meant the rest of the ride would be a crawl.
Dumb?
Hell yes it was dumb.
This fact driven home when I noticed the human muscle that is Toby had now disappeared from my side and I was all alone. Just me and this last hill. Of course, my nemesis had underestimated me and left one final descent before the last summit. That was all I needed to recover and this gravity monger now realized her mistake. I was standing, practically sprinting to the top realizing the entire time that I had no idea what I was doing. The idea of pace and endurance had flown out my mental windows and even had forgotten to shut the front door when they left.
Peeples Valley now lay around me and I took in the scenery. The road is basically flat or down and wind was cooperating very nicely. Tall trees guard their feeding streams at their roots and livestock graze with seemingly limitless freedom across endless grass fields. Over my shoulder I saw what was probably Toby cresting the last hill and with one final effort I was into Yarnell. Time to pull over and snap a few photos.
No gas today:
Artsy:
We all regrouped just before the big downhill into Congress. Powerbars, supplements, Gu's and water were all consumed and we assessed the ride so far. There were some sore spots starting to develop but smiles were still strong and with the sweeping curves waiting to greet us it was hard not to feel relaxed.
Bikes need to rest as well:
Jeremy still has mucho energy:
The Six Inch Meat and Bacon Sprint
Clipping back in, we rolled to the precipice of the descent. With most of us having limited "touring" road experience, we all began to gradually let the speed build. Feeling our way down the hill and through the first few sweeping corners. The heaviest of us, AKA yours truly... began to feel the biggest push from sister gravity. Pebbled asphalt below blurred into fuzzy black and dotted lane markings started to zip by. My 25C wide tires started to look ridiculously under matched as the speedo crept past 40 MPH. Toby and his damn gears inched past me and forcing deep into a tuck was the only way to catch his draft once more.
41... 42... 43... Hey, why does that big yellow diamond on that post read 25?
We were whipping down this hill. Carving corners, straightening them out and learning all about the apex kept the pace high and grins wide. I was actually having fun on a downhill on a road bike. I probably should have been scared or worried about gravel or possibly missing a corner only to observe a final glimpse of guardrail stopping my front wheel as I would gracefully exit into free space like a featherless bird... only to become comet -like soon after leaving my bicycle behind as I would surely plummet down the side of this mountain. But I was focused and those type of scenarios were blocked out completely. Final curve and just a straight line down to Congress.
Stopping at the bottom for the first of several tri-seat cage bottle tightenings... Sarah decided to quickly snap a picture of a huge cock on the side of the road. I must admit, it was impressive and definitely picture worthy. Perhaps she'll share sometime soon and I can post it up. It sure was a site to see.
From there we fell into a pace line with myself out in front. I thought I was doing pretty good. Fighting the wind a bit here and there. Keeping speeds up while not pushing too hard. At a wide spot in the road, Toby pulled up next to me and in his usually non-strained tone asked how my legs were feeling. With that he rolled by and I tucked behind him. I am still so new at this road stuff I forget how relaxing it is not to pull for a while. We began to switch on and off until the final stretch to Wickenburg when all hell let loose.
At first, things were calm... but I think everyone in the group was feeling rested and wanted to take their turn at the front. After all, energy was getting low and we all knew lunch was only a few miles away now. Andy wound up and took the lead. The pace picked up and we really started to cook down the road. After a good pull I started to feel ready to take point once more. I knew If I didn't Tobey or someone else most likely would pass us both sooner than later. Suddenly, like a bolt of razor thin lightning.... Jeremy streaked by like Evil Knevil shot out of a cannon.
He pulled at least 30 feet on the group and wasn't slowing down. His spin was furious and while I felt it had to be respected I was getting nervous that Andy might not respond in time. Was this going to a breakaway situation? Would Jeremy actually get in line in front of me at Subway? Might he order the last piece of bacon they had?
This thought was just to much to bare and fearing traffic to my left I lept across the rumble strip to our right and onto the shoulder. My cadence instantly redlined and slowly but surely the gap was beginning to disappear. Before I knew it I was in Jeremy's worthless draft catching my breath. With adrenaline pumping in my veins and flat strips of fried pork product dancing in my brain I powered up for an inside move to take pole once more.
There was a slight downhill section now and the speed was almost ludicrous. No where close to plaid, but it seemed that if I didn't restrain slightly the peloton could very easily jump to at least light speed.
CRITICAL REFERENCE QUOTES FROM THE 1987 MOVIE "SPACEBALLS"
Colonel Sandurz: Prepare ship for light speed.
Dark Helmet: No, no, no, light speed is too slow.
Colonel Sandurz: Light speed, too slow?
Dark Helmet: Yes, we're gonna have to go right to ludicrous speed.
moments later....
Barf: [Spaceball 1 roars by them, in a plaid colouration of speed] Aah!
Barf: What the hell was that?
Lonestar: Spaceball 1.
Barf: They've gone to plaid!
BLOG ENTRY NOW RESUMING
The asphalt was new and smooth beneath our knobless strips of micro-rubber as we continued to blaze along. I would learn later that it took most of little Sarah's might just to hang on to the back of this freight train. I imagine all she was focusing on were Thad's few words of wisdom before she left on this ride. The knowledge that she was to just stick behind someone big and keep pedaling. Along came a round about and Toby used his damn gears to gain momentum. I tucked in tight behind him and as automobile congestion got more hectic the pace began to drop. We rolled through one and then another traffic circle. Subway could now be seen on the right and crossing over to the parking lot my odometer crossed the 60 mile mark.
Turkey Revenge
We all leaned the bikes against an old wagon and walked inside for our well earned rewards. Andy let Brooke know we were in Wickenburg and she let him know she was on the way. For Toby and Andy this would be the end of the day, for the rest of us we were just about half way finished. I split a 12" turkey bacon sub with Sarah as she had also forgotten her wallet. We may have to pin a note to her sleeve next epic so she remembers what she needs to bring with her. She takes the ribbing about her forgetfulness pretty well, so it's all good.
Water bottles were filled and goodbyes spoken. I was curious as to how my legs might feel after the lunch sit down and was wondering if others were wondering as well. The pace was more relaxed as we all started to figure out what we had left. I knew the next 25 miles or so were the most boring of the trip, but I also was aware that only one small climb remained and then it was basically a spin home. Of course, this would be if the breeze wasn't starting to pick up in the wrong direction.
Jeremy was out in front for a while and then we switched. The last hill presented itself to me and I figured I might as well find out what my legs had left in them. They were sore, but still had some good power and I was able to crest the top with relative ease at a fairly good pace. I had been noticing fields of wildflowers for quite some time and decided with the wide shoulder I might as well pull over for a picture or two.
Purpley:
I noticed that there was more of a gap than I expected behind me. After a few moments, it was apparent that Sarah was actually going to be the next rider to arrive. This was a different position than what she had been holding for the previous miles, and when she rolled to a stop she expressed some concerns for Jeremy's energy levels. Soon enough, Jeremy arrived and his body english was far from positive.
Flower powers:
He quietly uttered to us both, "I've got the BONK man."
To be honest, there wasn't much more he had to say. We understood and now just had to figure out the best strategy to get us all through the next 50 miles of road and back home again before dark. My guess is the cause of Jeremy's woes weren't from his personal fitness level or mental toughness. It wasn't his bicycle or the gear he chose to bring. It obviously wasn't that sweet ass helmet either. No, I am afraid he had made one small mistake in his preparedness for the SkoPedal 130. He had trained for and successfully completed an Ironman.
One would think after undertaking months of the monumental efforts required to participate in such an event you would be prepared for anything. The problem is that Jeremy had refined his body so perfectly with such precision that he was basically a human machine. A muscular two piston powerplant requiring refined fuels and specific energy intake to perform at it's highest level. I, on the other hand... have no such training.
A 6" turkey and bacon sub after 60 miles of cycling fits my dietary needs perfectly. my digestion system didn't even blink with the additional bag of chips and cup of soda. In a way, Jeremy is like the first generation of the Back to the Future Delorean that required a certain amount of plutonium to generate the 1.21 gigawatts required for operation. I compare a little better to the Delorean Doc and Marty fly away in at the end of the movie powered solely by garbage.
Jeremy: good stuff in equals good stuff out.
Steve: whatever stuff in equals good stuff out
So, a plan was made to have me pull at a pace that was sustainable for my BONK ridden comrade. We got going again at a fair pacing, stopping on occasion to refuel and grab some water. Finally making it to the outskirts of SunCity, an old high school friend or Jeremy's some how recognized him from across three lanes of traffic and came over to say hello. It was very random, to say the least. He apologized for the construction zone we were about to encounter for the next few miles. The three of us then hugged the curb, jumped over or avoided debris and storm grates... all the while conscious of the incredibly dense and hectic traffic just off or left shoulders.
We made a final stop for water about 2 miles from the bike path. The location chosen was Burger King. Sarah and Jeremy needed water, I needed a couple hamburgers and some more soda. I could hardly contain myself once I realized they had Vault on tap and knew victory would surely be mine. Sitting down outside with my wonderful meal, Sarah laughed at my selection while she unwrapped as what could be best described as a wild buffalo turd filled with cranberries. Huh... to each there own I guess.
Bellies full we were soon rolling again. We reached mile 100 just at the entry of the bike path. This was now officially Sarah's first century and 13 miles from now we'd have crushed Jeremy's longest ride as well. The path itself winds up and down with a mix of asphalt and cement sections. There was a Frisbee golf tournament wrapping up and I was amazed as to how much water was still flowing down the usually dry creek bed. A furious torrent was even leaving a neighborhood from across the way and foaming over the man made barriers as it worked it's way down to join the main drainage.
I thought at first we might actually get to cross the stream further down but alas, there was a small bridge keeping out tires dry. Jeremy and I chose the more extreme route with 130 degree switchbacks that required careful negotiation. Sarah sapped some pics of us on route and then chose the more flowing route to play catch up.
Still smiling:
From here it was just a matter of finishing up. Light was fading but it didn't much matter as we had left all traffic. The pace was relaxed with the occasional water stop along the way. We pulled over to phone in our food request to the support team waiting dutifully for our arrival at home. I told Micki I'd enjoy some pizza, and Sarah was informed that Braut's were getting ready to be grilled. We then hit the dirt section of canal when we realized Sarah had dropped pretty far behind. I wondered if perhaps she had found her limit. Such a shame being so close to home. When she pulled up it was quickly realized that nothing could be farther from the truth. She had simply stopped to pick up a CO2 cartridge that had rattled loose from Jeremy's bicycle. I am thinking some Loc-Tite will be in that rides near future.
Passing through a few clouds of heavy gnats we left the canal for the final bit of road to my neighborhood. It was proposed that there would be a sprint to the finish until we realized that no one really wanted to stand up and pedal. Instead we rolled the last few yards with ease just as Andooke pulled up in their Subaru. Amazing timing... or maybe they had smelled the pizza that was on the way.
Success!!! :
That's a wrap
I think we all were feeling pretty good and glad we had finally ran out of miles to cover. Stories were recanted to those who didn't come along. Mousse had eaten an entire bag of chocolate and occasionally would calm down just enough to hurl the contents of her stomach across the floor... allowing Sarad's pups to lap as much of it up before they were collared away. Not the ideal way to end such an epic ride, but at least she didn't find the chocolate brownies Virginia had made and frosted for me. Brooke was even brave enough to ask for a piece from the obviously single serving pan.
The day was just about perfect I think. Weather was good, no technical issues and the goal had been met. To ride from Prescott in one day with no support.
Now I just have to figure out how to talk everyone into trying to do it in the other direction.... myself included.
The Stats:
Riders: Andy, Wade, Toby, Jeremy, Sarah and Elvota
Distance: 123 miles
Elevation: 2700 feet climbing
Ride time: just over 6.5 hours
Average speed: 18.5
Max speed: 43.5
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