Shut up and ride…

That’s what I finally got to do Sunday morning. I didn’t go to the mountain twisties and booger up some rubber, but the mountain single trackers and chunk up some knobbies. Even though its 105F+ this past week, there is a window until about 9am that a lot can still be done. As for the rest of the day, air conditioning and soaking in the pool are in order.

It had been quite some time, and surely not often enough that I’ve been in the dirt. I’ve been out only once in the past year, but with a 2.5 year old and a 6 month old, duty calls. This was nice because I’ve always considered the trails my ‘church’. Even though I have been in AZ for almost four years, I still find mountains a novelty (after thirty years in the flatlands of SE Michigan).

When I first got settled here, I was able to ride from my garage through the subdivision into those same trails I rode today. That luxury is no longer available due to the housing construction boom that the greater Phoenix area has right now. So I hauled the bike to the other boundary of my familiar trails with a buddy on a YZ125 and off we were.

Two things convinced me to take it easy. First was the plate and nine screws in my ankle from a previous get-off and since it had been a while, the triples would simply have to wait. Second, my buddy hadn’t been out in over a year and hadn’t been out on the AZ terrain ever (another Detroit transplant).

We stuck to the simple stuff and the lower speed single track goat trails. I also had in the back of my head that my buddy would probably have to ring the neck out of that 125 through the technical hill climbs since he’s 180lbs. or so (I’m not gay…I asked). The only challenge of the day came when I confronted her (emphasis showing respect). She is the hill where the aforementioned ankle plate and screws were earned.

SIDEBAR: I have been up and down that hill many times since my incident, but that hill still pisses me off. I had an operator error of poor bike preparation, wrong gearing for the trails, inexperience with the AZ terrain, and a freak landing when I jumped off the bike that resulted in the tib/fib break. Because I am all that is man, I did ride the thing home, but that truly sucked. End SIDEBAR

I stared her down, clicked the bike into gear, then rode around it. The hill seemed pretty rutted out and I am certianly not on my game with the infrequent rides. Yeah, I told myself that I didn’t chicken out but that I ‘wasn’t in the mood’.

A lot has changed since the last time I had been on those trails between the development and the heavy rains earlier in the year. Heh - so much so that while I was gazing at some of the houses across the view I had, I ran out of trail and had a low speed low-side. That was dumb. I was thinking to myself “Wow, last time I was back here thos houses weren’t…DAMNIT…HARD RIGHT! Didn’t happen. No matter the speed, dumping a dirt bike on the AZ desert floor hurts. This is not like that soft landing I have experienced many times back in the day in the Michigan dirt, this AZ stuff is hard rock.

A contributor to the low-side was the front tire pressure. I normally run about 15 psi in the front, but cranked it up a little to avoid the rim-bending that occurs frequently on these rocky trails. The trade-off being that front tire grip was sacrificed…too much in this case. Riding on the hard stuff with a coating of grit on the top felt like ice. In the end, I think I will sacrifice a rim or two versus giving up that much grip. That was my only complaint with the ride.

The one noteworthy sighting was when we passed a guy on his bike riding w/o a helmet or a shirt. Having just crahsed a few minutes back and looking at the torn jersey, all I could think about was skin graft and Darwin. This guy waved me down and said while laughing “There a rooking coming up behind me…hah hah hah”, so I waited. Out from this turn comes this supermodel looking chic (confession - she had a helmet and I really have no idea what she looks like; all I saw as her very large and obviously medically enhanced breasts covered in a very tight tankini (I’m not gay…I asked my wife). I shook my head and said to myself “must be from California”.

To play on Doug’s “Inside the Helmet” article, mine went like the following:

  • Whew - after months the old girl started on the first kick!
  • Ah yes, torque is your friend
  • Really dusty today…glad I’m in front
  • Don’t totally know where I’m going
  • Hey, no diapers
  • Too fast. Oh shit (the phrase that was repeated many times throughout the morning). ROCKS!
  • Made it. Ricky Carmichael can’t hold my jock
  • Its already getting hot…no its not, that’s just me being out of shape
  • Still no diapers
  • Look at all those houses off there in the distance
  • I wonder what they are going for?
  • HARD RIGHT!
  • That’s going to leave a mark
  • Sweet. Its still running and my buddy didn’t see it
  • No diapers
  • Whew. Its time to head back
  • Check out this jackass riding back here on his thumper with no helmet or shirt
  • OMG! Look at those bolt-ons
  • Women
  • I’m thirsty for a big glass of milk right now for some reason…

I’ll just stop right now.

Even though I was out for only an hour or two, it was a great morning. I think I’ll make more of an effort to attend Sunday service on a more regular basis. I hadn’t been to church in a while and I missed my meetings with Reverend Mountain.

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