January 2010 |
I jumped at the news of a mod party since my truck is in pretty bad shape these days. One of my rear FOX 2.0 shocks is completely blown, the other is leaking, one of the front FOX 2.5's is blown making the truck sit with a hilarious lean, my HID's aren't installed or hooked up, dual battery system is damaged, no radios hooked up, etc. I also picked up a bike rack off CraigsList that, while intended to be mounted in the bed of a pickup truck, would work great on my roof. I figured if I could mount the rack somehow and swap out my suspension for whatever crap I have laying around, it would be a good day. Luckily I've got a few different suspensions laying around the shed for a rainy day, be it my rainy day or somebody else's. Thanks to the quick thinking resourcefulness of 'clutch burner' we got the bike rack on no problem!
The suspension was a bit of a pain since the FOX stuff has been on there for about 18 months. My preferred method for disassembling the front is to undo the upper control arm ball joints, but they would have none of it. After wasting some time, I just unbolted the lowers like everybody else wanted to do in the first place. Ah well, it was done quick after that. Somehow I drove away with Kurt's brand new sway bar installed - an added bonus! With the frequency of my wheeling taking a massive downturn lately, I've been slowly reinstalling practical things like the sway bars and rear seats since there's currently no reason not to have them.
It looks it's going to cost me a good few hundred bucks to rebuild the FOX stuff... Considering I haven't been wheeling much and secretly want a long travel setup anyway, I'm strongly considering selling them. Pocketing their value would be pretty nice. |
|||
I've delayed going on a MTB group ride with local people for a while now, mostly due to my lack of skill and relative out-of-shape-ishness. This isn't some low self-esteem psychobabble I'm preaching here, it's just a fact that when it comes to mad mountain performance I'm pretty low on the totem pole. I'm really happy about my considerable improvements over the last year or so, then I didn't even know where the totem pole was. Now, I think of myself as sitting at the bottom of the totem pole on a bench, likely eating Arby's and putting off homework while staring up at it. For reasons I'll never quite understand, I decided a great maiden group voyage would be attending an all-day ride featuring 35 miles of singletrack and unknown (to me) thousands of feet of climbing. I think in my head I was planning to rely on the "well you've got no choice but to keep going, what are you gonna die out here?" mindset, which has worked well in the past, but didn't quite stack up on this challenge. First things first... check out the crazy bus thing they had to shuttle everybody to the trailhead!
I read a lot of blogs written by cyclists who can barely be described as human, retelling their experiences riding mountain bikes for 12, 16, 20+ hours straight, often covering well over 100 miles, often well over 10,000 feet of climbing. A few of them dwell in particular on the subject of suffering. They ask if bicycling, among other things, is just a path to finding suffering and the perverse delight that somehow accompanies it for these people. I think about them sometimes when I'm riding because suffering is one of those subjects... you never really know what somebody means when they describe pain, nor can you be sure that your own descriptions match up with or make sense to another person's understanding and experience of it. Is the suffering they endure 10 hours and only half-way into an epic ride something I don't understand because I'm not capable of doing such a thing? Or is mine greater, bent over the handlebars gasping for breathe 15 minutes into a ride, just over the first big hill with 20 more to go... When they return from their suffering, their stories are read and revered by many. They can take some comfort in knowing that what they have completed has been done and can only be done by a handful of people. There is less comfort coming home from a great struggle, knowing that you have really only conquered very little... that you have poured yourself out in barely passing level 1. Or maybe it's the other way around. If suffering and overcoming is the goal, maybe being an overweight, relatively out of shape guy is the best thing there is.
In any case, this event was crazy fun. Crazy fun in that 'I don't think I've ever been so certain I was going to die on my bike' sort of way. We were on the trail at 8am and I was happy to find two other riders willing to stick with me and play caboose to the others. After about 12 miles and what felt like maybe 2 hours, I looked at my phone for the time... 2pm. Oh, no problem - hopefully they'll just be waiting for us at the after-ride BBQ a day late! Not good. Only 1/3 the way through the ride in 6 hours, with only 3 hours of daylight remaining, and with the slightest incline making me feel like someone was sucking my soul out of my chest through an ethereal straw, we needed a plan. Fortunately there was a way to bail off the trail and onto the road... the sweet, downhill road. There were a few climbs before we were back at the BBQ, but nothing too bad. Looking back, it sucks that I missed so much of the real ride. But, my memory in tact, I know there wasn't any choice. I think I'd resigned to bailing for the road when I simultaneously flatted both tires and got stung by a bee repairing them. I can take an omen...
The BBQ was awesome! Beer has never been so wonderful and whoever made whatever random piles of meat I was eating - most impressive. Distance: 34.4 miles |
|||
Mountain biking has a lot going for it compared to hitting the road. A new set of skills and challenges, nearly constant great scenery, basically no cars, etc etc. The one thing that bothers me about my MTB experience to date, however, has been the fact that I've driven my truck to go biking just about every time I've done it. Something about driving somewhere in order to hop on another vehicle to travel some more and then driving back... just rubs me the wrong way. Then I saw the following video on one of my favorite blogs and felt like a complete pile... Armed with my new GPS and suddenly moved to feel like an incredible lame-o, I decided today would be a great day to do some MTB'ing sans car. There are reasons for wanting to drive to a trail to bike it - it's much easier to get out if something goes wrong, for example Well, screw that! My destination was Tucson Mountain Park and the Star Pass area. This was my first ride in the area, one that I'd been putting off because despite the insistence of locals that navigation is straightforward out there, the sat map made it look like an insane mess of trails and washes in every direction. I'd loaded up about a dozen key waypoints on the GPS and set out. Even with the GPS I managed to mess up the directions. Interestingly, despite taking a few totally different tracks than what I'd planned, I still ended up hitting everything I wanted to. One such navigation mistake lead me to this cool picnic table...
All in all the trip was a ton of fun. The ride out to the trailhead was itself a reasonably challenging ride for me (especially compared to driving!) and portions of the trail were harder than anything I've ridden at Sweetwater, Fantasy Island, or 50 Year. Fortunately, the ride home was basically one really long descent down to the UA. The area is really beautiful...
Despite having only tasted maybe 10% of it (and sucking pretty badly at that), my thoughts on more than one occasion turned towards one day doing this... maybe if I can find a SAG helicopter I'll do it tomorrow. Distance: 26.6 miles |
|||
I'd planned to ride to Arivaca and back, but was turned off of that plan by some logistical troubles. For one thing, that ride would take me so long I'd have to leave early enough that I'd need a jacket of some kind and would then have nowhere to put it for the majority of the day. Additionally, I'd have to eat a meal at some point and there's basically (i.e. literally) nothing between Green Valley and Arivaca. I wasn't about to bring a lock on such a ride, so blah blah yada yada I changed plans. After some map playing, I decided to ride up to the San Xavier Mission which I'd only ever seen from the highway. On the way, I had an AZFJ sighting, running into CopDoc on Valencia.
From there I rode the length of Mission Road to the South where it ends. That is a very pretty route with mountain and mine views and fun rolling hills. The road surface is generally very crappy, however. Fortunately, traffic south of San Xavier is basically nonexistent and I was able to take a smoother course away from the edge of the road.
Distance: 56.5 miles |
|||
