9 February 2010 - 13:18The Milagrosa Fail

The “race” started a little later this year, so we had plenty of time for coffee, breakfast, and jettisoning the garbage before we made the jump to hyperspace.

At 8am, it was already turning out to be another beautiful southern AZ day, warm sun and blue skies. There were about 100 or so riders gathered at the start line, among those folks, were none other than Thom Parsons, accompanied with a can Chelada. We went off at 9. Like last year’s SSAZ, we had the 5 mile neutral roll out before we started climbing the course. The climb took us past an area where locals like to shoot things, there is nothing like climbing in the hot sun listening to thundering gunshots echoing though the gullies.

I’m sure the first timers on this course felt this a bit unnerving. The fact that some of these guns folks were shooting are normally found on tanks definitely made me think twice about snapping any pictures.

Mandy had her mission on, and her gear choice (32:22) was working for her. I had stuck with 32:20 and was not in any hurry to get up the big climb. Plus it is always fun to meet and chat with the folks next to you. Once at the top, it was time to get going. I spent a little extra off the bike fitting my helmet cam, as I wanted to capture the section of trail I was about to ride.

It is hands down one of the most amazing ribbons of singletrack I have ever ridden. It’s rolly and twists in and out of the barrel cactus, and you can hit it at mach speed. I caught up with Mandy (who was not waiting for me) at the cow corral about 2 miles down. After  this, the trail gets a bit more “primitive”, or non existent in places.

Still having fun, we waded through fast running washes, avoided cows, walked up some chunky ledgy jeep roads, and were generally loving every minute of it. I was feeling pretty good. Right up until I got to the big rocky downhill section on the first loop.

It’s evil in three places, each one worse than the last. It was the third one that sent me to the ground in a rather painful and awful way. I got snagged in a rut and burped the front tire and over the bars I went.

I had to stop, put a tube in my front wheel, and then limped on for a few more miles until I had to stop again and fix my front brake that was now rubbing very badly. At this time, I had a very bloody elbow, complete with golf ball sized lump on my forearm, and a bad mood to boot.

Once I finally made it out of the first loop, I had caught Mandy again (who had kept going at my recommendations – I was going to be saying a lot of bad words shortly). I was out of steam, and not feeling so good. I had a donut and some water and kept on going back up to the top. Well, as I was climbing up the road, I was beginning to develop a headache, as well as find out that any bump that hit the front wheel send a wave of pain my my left arm. Stutter bumps and potholes were giving me an increasingly hard time.

Fueled by a low blood sugar and pain induced rage, I got to the top ahead of Mandy, and asked the guys at the aid station if they had any pain killers, and the answer was “no”. But they did have ice cold Tecate, and it was time. I had to make the call. There was absolutely no way I was going to be able to get down the Milagrosa, which has way more in the way of bumps and things that could hurt you (me) stretched over 12 miles.

It was over.

I rode back to the start point by my self, feeling crushed.

It just goes to show you how quickly things can go wrong.I’m lucky I didn’t break anything. Rocks are hard and unyielding. And by not finishing the course, I was rewarded with an excruciating 8 mile washboard descent down, past the gunfire, and back along the rolling, flat paved 5 mile roll in.

I know that bets were won and lost that day.

Up next, the shenanigans…