Trail 18

Here are the Estrella Mountains (courtesy me camera savvy bro-Lemmy). Estrella means estrella in Spanish by the way (okay it means star-a gaseous ball of luminescence due to fusion reactions).

Trail 18 is located in an exclusive housing area that's feeling the sting of the recession when Phoenix's housing bubble burst ugly. Trail 18 starts on housing plot number 18 and was cut by the developers. It begins on private land but criss-crosses regional park territory. The park's area was mellow, the privately cut stuff wasn't technical per se but it was narrow. Narrow meaning, if your front tire broke traction because you're not centered on the trail and you hit the flanking scree, chances are you're falling off a cliff or face a rather steep drop-off with cacti breaking your fall.

Again, the weather was gorgeous with just a hint of broody clouds swelling off into the distance. I think the high was just in the seventies with a balmy breeze hooking us up.

We parked at a local Elementary School and it's a nice warmup on the road before we hit the serpentine singletrack starting in the hoidy-toidy neighborhood. It began with a mellow, fireroady climb and as it continued we crossed these really fast, erosion indented (dry) creek crossings. It was the Arizona version of whoop-de-doos. The serpentine single track with these indentations/erosion gullies punctuating it every so often added to the all body flow. You have to push down on the bike (I'm sure with the head bob too) to facilitate the flow when entering and (pulling up with arms and legs) exiting these gullies at tempo. Just had to make sure your exit speed and trajectory was adjusted to avoid the Jumping cholla cacti and Saguaros that were near the apices. The Jumping cholla spine has evil, microscopic barbs that ensure an easy entry in the skin and a major, pain(ful) endeavor for removal.

Pretty sure the trail cutters did this on purpose. I lean out my inside knee as a counter balancing act cruising through the apex (I'm pretty sure I picked that habit watching Grand Prix motorcycle racing and bicycle road racing). I reeled in my outrigger leg in fear of an inside leg full o'spines.

Here's Lemmy leading before the first major climbing...

The singletrack seems more rocky than the last ride. As riders push through, a pile of scree accumulates on either side of the already narrow singletrack. This makes centering particularly important, especially on climbs. A particularly cool section of singletrack was this narrow ascent leading to a ridgeline trail that contained a scenic outcropping of rocks where I photo-geeked away. Our exact location was pretty damn scenic and humbly satisfying. To give you the depth and perspective (and fun of climbing factor) of the trail-cutting endeavor/placement these people created, here's the brunt of the climb and the switchbackiness of it with Lemmy climbing.

Cruising through on our way to the second climb...

The last bit of the ride was Lemmy putting the finishing touches a la gunning it for the imaginary finish line while I was drafting as close as I could. I know when Lemmy begins to wind it up because he gets into his hunker down, reducing frontal area stance for lower wind resistance. We passed a facility that looked like civil liberties were not high on its priority--just me eyeballing it and mentally classifying it--and I asked Lemmy, "Is that a prison?" He laughed and replied, "No, it's the High School."
"Same diff, I suppose."

With the sun shining brightly overhead now and the majority of the cloud cover burned away it turned out to be another gorgeous Arizona Fall day with bluebird skies and an oh so gentle breeze giving us a smidge of evaporative cooling. As we cool down our pistons back to Lemmy's Pathfinder via paved roads, I ride no-handed because that's how I roll beetches...


When it was all said and done 16.36 miles (26 km) and 1,568' (478 m) of climbing. The climbing's not terribly steep and whenever I can I try and make the climbs a power workout by keeping it in the middle ring and staying seated. This riding in the desert with my older brother is good for my soul and my inner child fo' sho'.
The profile's are courtesy of me brah too...


Contour-action beetches...

...aerial view...

White Tank Mountain Regional Park: Maricopa County, Arizona

Finished reading "The Book Thief" by Zusak this morning because work has completely screwed up my college circadian rhythm of sleeping 'til whenever. My sleeping 'til whenever has been replaced by sleeping 'til 6:00 a.m. While I was waiting for my brother's family to wake up (I'm visiting him on my October break), I laid in bed finishing this amazing novel. Its genre is young adult lit but really y'all, anybody who likes reading--independent of age--will be humbled, grief stricken, and happy for the protagonist as revealed by the narrator: death. Turn off your T.V. (unless you're watching old TdF DVDs) and return to some old fashioned story telling/reading. Zusak paints quite a picture with his words and his characters are believable. Time for some non-fiction to balance it out...

On another note, I'm riding with me brah-Lemmy-in Goodyear, Arizona. The weather's simply amazing and it's always a treat hanging out with my nephews and sister in-law. I'm missing my chilluns too but it's nice being with my older brother; and, my October break officially begins kids.

Went to White Tank Mountain Regional Park today (aka "White Tanks"). The first section we did was the "competitive track". But first, let me introduce you to my brother's fine racing steeds (c'mon neighbor!): the Moots Rigor Mootis.
I see why people rave about it as the hardtail standard. As compared to the aluminum Yeti I race, the Moots is not quite as lively (but I think that's the nature of this Ti blend, plus I ride a small whereas Lemmy's rig's a medium-I may have to switch to medium for my next bike) but it's just as responsive in the steering and pedaling department. Furthermore, the Moots takes the edge out of hitting babyheads or small, nutty terrain anomolies leaving my tetrapod body plan less abused when going greater than or equal to tempo pedaling in the saddle for 2+ hours. Aesthetically speaking, the satin finished Ti with the classic triple triangle hardtail's a giver of woodies. His dual boinger's a Titus (made in the current, lovely state I'm visiting). This too--the Motolite--is the 26" version of XC race-worthiness.

Here's the steed my brother was gracious enough to loan me...

The competitive track was pretty fun, the Arizona race scene is starting up because the summer's are too hot to begin the bike season then. There were some folks out there going fast getting ready for an XC event next week but me an Lemmy took it at tempo.
Here's Lemmy diggin' in on a quicky climb...


Pretty fun, a lot of loose rocks on sand on top of red clay-ey stuff. Really fast singletrack, not a whole lot of climbing nor is it too twisty either. You can't really lean into the corners like you can on hardpack soil so that was one body englishing idiosyncrasy I had to adjust for while out here rolling in the desert.


The next trail we did was the Waddell trail but we gave up once it went hike-a-bike.
Here's Lemmy and me at the same spot...


Here's the profile...

Here's the contoured version...

'twas a good preview of the trails to come...!

Stuff I Saw Whilst Cycling and other Non-Sequitors on the 16th of October

Last Friday, due to a change of plans I was able to go for a spur-of-the-moment ride with a one member of the homey trinity-Hez Chilly. We started at his place and I felt like a fifth wheel because originally it was a ride date with his son. We rode in a subdivision called "Highlands Ranch" and it was a visually beautiful ride. The sun was about to go down, the weather was cool turning crisp and most of the plants' photosynthetic machinery started to wind down giving way to non-green organic, muted colors. Very pretty.

20.5 miles later after chit-chatting up a storm we're back at Billy's with goofy grins on our faces. A most excellent way to end the protracted work week! Hit 47.5 miles an hour (76.55 km/h) on a descent where I attacked on the ascent part but Billy shut it down and crested the apex before me. Noice.

Saturday's soccer day and we did split duty. I watched Maricel's team win 1-0 and saw her depart with her teammates for a slumber party. Great girls, all class acts. Very polite, smart and athletic to boot. Hopefully they won't fall for a loser guy. I'm a guy (hopefully not a loser although some would beg to differ) and I'm a high school teacher. I've seen my fair share of loser boys (thankfully that is a very, very small number) who hopefully will not grow up to be loser adults. There is however a high correlation between loser kids and their loser parents.
Going up Pleasant Park...

After she left and cleaning house for a bit I took off on my standard, Pleasant Park/Highgrade/285 climbing loop. By now, the weather up here at 8k's (2438 m) pretty crisp; you add some wind and it gets mighty crispy if you don't have the gear. I wore a base layer with leg and arm warmers. Frigid on the descent and near perfect for climbing. My goal was to go in the highest gear possible for near maximum chill effect. The views I normally take for granted-that if you took the time to suss it- would be pretty damn amazing and waaaaay aesthetically pleasing to the nature lover who also happens to be wearing an inordinate amount of lycra/fleece-lined spandex while riding a carbon fiber racing bike.

The brewing up of La Niña seems to have our part of the world just a wee bit drier than what I normally would've expected; or, it could be due to global climate change (if you think climate change is not scientifically supported log off now and go back to your village because they're missing an idiot). Chill mode takes the race-mentality of trying to pass people I see up the the road and forces me to work on technique. For example, pedaling in circles, syncing the breathing with the cadence, finding the sweet spot on my saddle for my sensitive man areas (I ride with Chamois cream), not death gripping the bars, belly breathing, belching super loud (I look like a snake yawning) and giggling (from said belch), expunging high-velocity Texas hankies/liquid shrapnel from my nares from this malingering head cold, standing and rocking the bike in ways i hit other parts of my leg muscles...all that I take into consideration whenst going chilly-chill. It was a singularly, splendiferous day in the high country.
One more switchback to Highgrade

Here's my dirt driveway; home...

Afterwards I took me doggies for a 30 minute walk in our favorite hiking spot: Flying J. The coincidence was when my iPod was on shuffle, it played a track from one of the most awesome pet/dog books of all time: Where the Red Fern Grows.
********BOOK AND MOVIE SPOILER ALERT******
The randomly played track was when Big Dan had already died and Little Anne (they worked in tandem saving the author's life) was dying of a broken heart (Big Dan was her brother) and didn't want to eat and was simultaneously starving to death. She eventually crawled her way (her back legs weren't working at this point of her suffering) to where the author-Wilson Rawls-buried Big Dan. This is where Little Anne chose her final resting spot. My eyes got all misty re-hearing this. A real tear jerker I'm telling you and this novel was based on his earlier years living out East in the boonies. We heard it on our way back from Cape Cod this past summer and all the adults in the 4runner cried too. Team M is very sensitive. My oldest daughter cried during the part of another excellent, animated movie The Iron Giant when the giant sacrificed itself for the sake of his friends.

Next week I have a week off for October Break. I'm going to see my older brother in Phoenix, AZ. He too is a mountain biker (imagine that!) and we're going to tear some $hit up hopefully. A minimum of three hour cycling days (every day) out in the surreal landscape of the high desert including saguaros, creosote, mesquite and palo verde trees along with the random Gila monster should be of some relaxing, carbon blowing, catching up, worthwhile fun while hanging with me bro!

Been listening to a lot of Pearl Jam lately too. Coincidentally it's what I listened to as a first year teacher back in Plano, TX. Seems like I'm a first year teacher again energetically speaking with this mentally rotten anchor called the (unpaid) sixth class. Maybe I can make a movie spoof of the Sixth Sense called the Sixth Class? In this movie too the protagonist will also see dead people-they'll be the teachers (or the students?).

My Sweet Melissa secured for us two tickets to see Dave Matthews/Tim Reynolds acoustic concert gig in a 6,800 person venue. Man, how amazing's that show going to be?! Talented, talented musicians.

Friday night ride(s) with the Homey Trinity

Last night was night riding night. Hez-chilly, Kev, and I--aka the Homey Trinity--rode last night. We were all sporting our lighting systems. Night riding is an whole body exercise in proprioceptive, self-control. What you take for granted day riding is what you need to be extra careful for at night. Scanning is of the utmost, not just of what's ahead but the hidden obstacles out of the range of the lights at the ground level. The cool thing is when your visual senses are on high alert, the watts applied to the legs via the neuro-muscular systems seem to go on autopilot. It's like powder skiing sort of-you see the contours of the snow ahead but your feet are currently submerged in the snow out-of-sight. Day riding gives you a commanding view what's coming up because everything-including peripheral vision is illuminated; night riding has a distinct cut-off created by my handlebar mounted L.E.D. system that creates a distinct visual boundary (e.g. the distinct cut-off H.I.D. car headlamps create at night-especially on curves). The ski adage: don't look that way or else you will (go that way-i.e. don't look at cliff boundaries) is especially fitting for night, mountain bike riding. Due to the dry conditions the boundaries of the trail (i.e. the sharp cutoff before you go careening down the mountain) are sketchy and super dusty. There was a couple of times I eyeballed the loose stuff on the edge of the singletrack too long and sho 'nuff my nearly bald front tire broke traction and I was heading down a slippery slope. I had to physically bunny-hop (or shift my whole weight via body english, gran mal-style) my bike back on the singletrack so I wouldn't biff it at low speeds.

When it was over it was very, very satisfying. 2.25 hours of pretty solid riding, probably 1200' feet of climbing? The weather was excellent and seeing the surrounding areas all lit up with a 360 degree panorama at the apex was surreal. The quarter-mile drag strips at Bandimere was lit up, as well as the motocross track made it seem as if we were overlooking a miniature train track setup. We all concurred that living in Colorado is a damn, beautiful thing!

Way Into the Off-Season

Yeah, we live nearby

Cycling is a priority but not quite as high up on the list as my daughters' soccer commitments. This weekend was in the Springs and thankfully not in Pueblo. Being in the Springs means that we can hangout with Melissa's Uncle and our cousins-which is always fun. For starters we got to see my cousin's-Casey-touring skills at the Olympic Training Center. He is one of the tour guides there. We hooked up with him for his 1:00 tour. When it was over we-including the rest of his tour group-all clapped for him. When we were leaving his Mom, Melissa's Aunt, said, "we love you!" in front of the tour group. It was too funny. Great tour; great presence from Casey.

Maura's team lost 4-2; but the cool thing was my daughter scored their two goals. Maricel's team lost as well but they're starting to gel-especially on defense. The weather was absolutely gorgeous both days. Fall in Colorado's absolutely stunning and super pleasant/mild. The rest of the Green family met us at Maricel's game; afterwards we hungout one last time at their house (in a cool neighborhood), said our farewells and headed back home.

Sunday, Melissa ran the Neder-Nederland 10K and when she came home I did the Highway 73 to S. Brook Forest to Shadow Mountain back to 285. Another absolutely gorgeous pre-Fall Sunday. Climbed about 2000 feet (609m) in 30 miles in 1h and 47 mins. 32 minutes of descending and an hour and 17 minutes of climbing. It was pretty steep in some places where I had to stand. Wasn't used to that since mentally I've been in the off-season for quite some time-even have hair back on my legs! The weather wasn't even 70° F (20°C)! Absolutely gorgeous.
Here's 285 heading North as seen from our flyover...

Highway 73 connects Conifer to Evergreen, a pretty popular route on the weekends

On the downhills you can go as fast as the cars; on the switchbacks you can go faster.
Here's S Brook Forest, part of it goes through a National Forest.

Climbing, climbing, and more climbing


At 9,000 feet (2743m) the Aspens are starting to change.

On the last big downhill, I got behind a delivery truck and drafted him back to Shadow Mountain. He lost me on the flats where I couldn't maintain his speed. My max speed was...

(or 81 kph)
Here's Shadow Mountain

Not too bad. I definitely have no endurance but it is after all the off-season. Thinking about doing cyclocross though. It's less than an hour for my category.
Great way to start the week (ending for some countries): my Texas won (and consequently I won a wager) and we hungout as a family watching my daughters play soccer-and did I mention it's pre-Fall weather in Colorado?

Labor Day

A slight change in plans. Instead of going with Team M to WinterPark the boys are homebound watching the house and dogs and doing Father and Son things. The weather couldn't be any more beautiful. Mornings being in the high 30's, how refreshing is that (it's pretty damn chilly if you're not up for it)? Pretty durn refreshing. The girls left yesterday so it's the Moose and me hanging out for the Labor Day weekend extravaganza of prosaicness and outliers.

We hit Flying J ranch. The scenery here at 8,000 feet plus is just nothing to take for granted (even though I do see this park almost every other day). First up was to take the doggies out for a walk. The singletrack here is beneath a canopy of thickly settled lodgepole pines so even in the middle of the day there is still plenty of shade with just some spots exposed. I let the dogs sniff away as we roll. I'm sure it's such a luxury for them with their otherwordly olfactory system to sniff at leisure at all the wild stuff Flying J has to offer. They're hyper from the gun but once we settle into a rhythm they kinda just walk side-by-side on the single track with Mason and me talking up a storm as much as a 5 year-old can contribute (come to think of it, my conversational skills are kinda lacking too). As we hike, some young kid on a skateboarding helmet riding with his Dad biffed it on some loose sand on the apex of a downhill turn. Nothing spectacular but I asked if he was okay and he was. I commented to the Moose on when we get back we should ride here being that the singletrack is so mild (except for said kid), topographically speaking, I kind of talked up doing a mountain bike ride for Mason. He seemed interested and once we got back to the house, we ate, I loaded the Moose's bike in my truck, and I wore my trailrunners (I would be his human outrigger just in case).

The first part's a loose downhill so I ran right next to him to make sure his front tire wouldn't wash nor his rear tire would slide past. So far so good and I'm pushing his shoulders up the climb as I run alongside him. That's pretty much the M.O. On the flat stuff he takes off. I'm imagining he's digging the way the wind feels against his face and hair and the occasional whiff of pine sap. He's instinctively avoiding the conspicuous obstacles (except when he doesn't). Every time we pass hikers going the opposite direction one if not all always holler words of encouragement to my five year-old mountain biking prodigy (he's my son afterall...). Next comes the cut-off to the shortcut. I shouldn't ask, but I do, and of course he takes me up on it. He could've done the full loop but I didn't want his first time off-road to be a chore. Next time, I say, we do the longcut instead of the shortcut okay? Like a good Moose, he always says okay Dad. Afterwards it's a caramel shake, a limeaid, and some artery clogging onion rings at the local Sonic for rewarding such a trooper. Never complained and came close to crashing several times in the loosey-goosey stuff (and that was just me!).

For our evening's entertainment we watch Toy Story 3 at the discount movie theatre. The Last Airbender was playing too but everybody and their brother gave that movie a pretty crappy review (even though I dig M. Night Shamalan).

So far so good Labor Day. I'm avoiding grading so far but eventually I'll do it (yuck!).

Monday. How many more times can one go to Flying J? Well if the one is us, another time! Took the doggies again since I feel so guilty for not taking 'em out during the work week.

A cold front's settling in as a forest fire begins out in Fourmile canyon in Boulder. Hopefully this brief front'll retard the growth of the fire.
It was another absolutely gorgeous day here in Paradise. In the mornings I'm starting to feel the bite of Fall. Speaking of mornings, when Mason and I were eating biscuits and (vegetarian) gravy as I was reading about Dublin in the NYTimes Travel Section, sweet Melissa told me about her singletrack soiree out in WinterPark. She's getting back into mountain biking (that's always a good sign!). Then old man Winter'll visit us. Not looking forward to that. In fact, I'm helping out Grandpa and Scotty for our potential cords this Winter.

Started to grade this evening. Work's reality has inopportuned itself on my vacation minded self.

Reason 342: Living in Colorado...

...would you rather wake up to this

or some sidewalk cafe on your second espresso reading the newspaper Sunday morning? Okay, both are fine actually but I chose the former this morning. Hez-Billy my colleague and general homeslice got me addicted to the Mayhem Gulch + full loop out at this wonderful trailhead/open space called Centennial Cone. Been a while since I've posted anything blog worthy. Work and being a Dad's pretty hardcore time wise; but like anything else it's balance Daniel-san.

The ride was great! Been running nowadays though. Shifting disciplines. Running's a highly concentrated form of pain that physiologically for me equals hours on a bike. Getting ready to run a 10k at altitude. Gotta get my running gait on! Gotta stay busy so when ski season rolls around I'll be doing my imitation of an Asian Johnny Moseley (minus the dinner roll and Olympic caliber mogul runs). I rode with my iPod. There's nothing like riding something as picturesque as Centennial Cone at 8:00 in the morning and the weather's barely 60°F (16°C) and when you hit (shuffle) play and the first song on the batter's deck's the Who's 5:15 (I love it when Roger Daltrey sings, Quiet stormwater, M-m-my generation). Audio-visual Christmas! I am fired up and climb Mayhem Gulch in the middle ring standing whenever the ups get a tad busy. It starts at 6500' (1981 m) and tops out at 7560' (2304 m) but in between there's a lot of sawtooth climbing (and descending) so you probably climb 1500' (457 m) or so whenever everything's said and done. Here's the parking lot from my perspective after being inspired by the Who. That's Clear Creek running parallel to the road. Back in the day, people used to pan for gold down thar.

I'm getting nearer the the top. Nobody out on the trail 'cept me singing my arse off not giving a crappizzle about people hearing (like I said, ain't nobody out here).

Part of the singletrack skirts the rim/cone of centennial park.

It's simple: stay towards the mountain...

The day before, Team M went down to Pueblo for my daughter's soccer game. It was 99° F in the shade! Thank goodness for altitude and beautiful Colorado Sundays.

Brian Greene's a proponent of the multiverse theory and for me it's a reality. Working's a reality (I'd rather not do it honestly but it keeps me honest and accustomed to a certain quality of living), being a bike racer's a reality (although my arse gets handed to me come race day), being a hillbilly's a reality (preparing firewood for winter and a certain proficiency in snow removal in Winter's at 9000 feet), being a parent and husband's another reality too. What I'm trying to say is my multiverse theory's a reality for me, each needing my collection of sub-atomic particles arranged in physical, chemical laws to react producing a reality that calls for attention (albeit being a father and husband has to take precedence over bike riding but my sweet Melissa might differ from that!). I ride to fulfill that persona in my cycling universe. It's not escapism but a reality. Overall, it's not that bad.