this one i did sign up for. . .
sunday morning dawned very, very, early this week. we had made plans to ride up the north control road to mount lemmon. we had attempted this a year ago last march only to get stopped about 6 miles from the top with ice and snow.
what?!?
yeah, i said ice and snow, in arizona, tucson to be more precise, in march. after dumping the dakar for the 3rd time and losing traction more times than i can count, i threw in the skull cap and scrubbed the mission.
i was glad we were going back to finish the ride. it was something that i always wanted to accomplish, if only because of it's previous failure.
so i signed up for another attempt. this one when i *knew* there would be no snow. i wanted to reach that summit and experience summerhaven, the little town at the top. it was going to heat up down in the valley, so a cool 72 degrees was calling to me. it was compelling.
so we rolled out of bed at 5-ish and were headed out on the bikes by 5:30. yes, that's 5:30 a.m. we rode through coolidge, hooking up with 96 ranch road, to something, then freeman, then willow springs ranch road. 96 ranch road has a couple patches of deep sand and one particularly nasty rut that ran perpendicular to the road. of course i was going too fast to even attempt to minimize the damage, so i just set my jaw, leaned back to lighten the front end and braced myself for the bone jarring to subside. it did, and i was on to the next thing.
we arrived at oracle, which is the starting point for the control road up the north side. the temps were so modest, we decided to risk having breakfast before heading up. it was about 8 a.m. at this point i'd say. nothing beats a good plate of mexican food for breakfast.
and then we mounted up and headed for the turn off.
much of it was typical back road. it had it's share of twists, turns, ruts, pot holes, gravel, washed out sections, etc. along with the stray idiot that drives too fast down the middle of the road the opposite way because it's mostly deserted. that's mostly, not always.
when we started to ascend, ye did his typical disappearing act. i always wonder why he asks me to go for a ride with him and then never rides with me. in his defense, he did offer to let me lead, but somehow getting shown a wheel around every turn is not my idea of relaxing. so i normally ride my own ride and i'll see him sometime over the ride, depending on how long a ride it is.
everything is going smoothly. at one point i noticed the gps said it was 16 miles to the top. by the time it reached 15 i was surprised. i could have sworn it was more like 5 miles, not the one it indicated.
anyway, i started clicking off the miles, trying to remember the exact corner where i threw in the flag on the previous trip. doggone it if they don't all look alike. every time i'd think i found it, i'd round another corner that looked just like it.
so i look at the gps, i'm 2 miles from the top. the map squiggly is all over the place, back and forth, so i know the switchbacks are getting tight at this point. i come up on a left hander thinking to myself "i've got this licked," when suddenly my bike is dead. it didn't sputter, it didn't lurch.
it. just. quit.
it was like a rock dropping from the sky. i hit the ground so quick i didn't have time to react. the bike ended up sideways on a downhill slant. as i was flat on the ground, i realized i couldn't just right myself. i ended up rolling around on the ground like a potato bug until i could get my feet headed downhill and underneath me. it wasn't a pretty sight and i gave praise to the Lord that no one was around to witness my complete and total humiliation.
well, once my arm and hand pain began to subside, i realized the bike was still on, (not running, mind you) but the headlight was shining off into the ravine i narrowly missed. what to do. . .
okay, that last part was put in there for drama. i never once questioned what i was going to do. i knew darn well i was going to turn the bike to the off position and wait patiently until ye came back to right it for me. the only question rolling through my mind was how long it would take him to actually miss me.
suffice it to say, it was a while. i think he was at the top and ordering lunch. . .
okay, not really, but it was a while. so anyway, we got the bike upright and i gave it the once over. dang it! the crash took out my left mirror, and the left turn signal, although still attached, was hanging like a limp noodle. now normally, it's not a big deal and just the cost of doing business in the AT world, but if you've ever owned a bmw, nothing costs less than $100 to fix. and it goes up from there.
when ye made it back, he did this fancy thing to turn his bike around. it was impressive. he swung the back end of that heavy klr out and had it going the opposite direction when he stopped, back uphill again. it was a spectacular sight.
but the payment for that spectacular sight was his bike quitting and refusing to start. after he muscled my bike to a semi-level patch of ground, he boarded his bike and rocked it back and forth trying to find neutral. he kept at it, turning the key off, then on, rocking, hitting the starter ad nauseum. it was after several attempts that i yelled to him that his light was not coming on.
we did the ever so graceful shouting back and forth trying to get the point across as we both had earplugs in. we couldn't hear each other, but i'm quite sure people in phoenix some 90 miles away could hear us just fine.
so he had to pull his seat. only we didn't have a very good selection of tools. so he pulled out his leatherman, got the situation under control, started the bike (it was a short) and we headed to the top.
the temps were marvelous and we did a tour. all too soon, we decided to head back down. this time we took the paved road down the south side. by the time we reached the bottom at 11:30 a.m. it was near blast furnace temperatures. we stopped briefly on the way home and ye said, "let's get going before we spontaneously combust!" i thought it was a little to late for that but. . .
we made it home, stripped off our gear and dove in the pool.
it was a good day.
what?!?
yeah, i said ice and snow, in arizona, tucson to be more precise, in march. after dumping the dakar for the 3rd time and losing traction more times than i can count, i threw in the skull cap and scrubbed the mission.
i was glad we were going back to finish the ride. it was something that i always wanted to accomplish, if only because of it's previous failure.
so i signed up for another attempt. this one when i *knew* there would be no snow. i wanted to reach that summit and experience summerhaven, the little town at the top. it was going to heat up down in the valley, so a cool 72 degrees was calling to me. it was compelling.
so we rolled out of bed at 5-ish and were headed out on the bikes by 5:30. yes, that's 5:30 a.m. we rode through coolidge, hooking up with 96 ranch road, to something, then freeman, then willow springs ranch road. 96 ranch road has a couple patches of deep sand and one particularly nasty rut that ran perpendicular to the road. of course i was going too fast to even attempt to minimize the damage, so i just set my jaw, leaned back to lighten the front end and braced myself for the bone jarring to subside. it did, and i was on to the next thing.
we arrived at oracle, which is the starting point for the control road up the north side. the temps were so modest, we decided to risk having breakfast before heading up. it was about 8 a.m. at this point i'd say. nothing beats a good plate of mexican food for breakfast.
and then we mounted up and headed for the turn off.
much of it was typical back road. it had it's share of twists, turns, ruts, pot holes, gravel, washed out sections, etc. along with the stray idiot that drives too fast down the middle of the road the opposite way because it's mostly deserted. that's mostly, not always.
when we started to ascend, ye did his typical disappearing act. i always wonder why he asks me to go for a ride with him and then never rides with me. in his defense, he did offer to let me lead, but somehow getting shown a wheel around every turn is not my idea of relaxing. so i normally ride my own ride and i'll see him sometime over the ride, depending on how long a ride it is.
everything is going smoothly. at one point i noticed the gps said it was 16 miles to the top. by the time it reached 15 i was surprised. i could have sworn it was more like 5 miles, not the one it indicated.
anyway, i started clicking off the miles, trying to remember the exact corner where i threw in the flag on the previous trip. doggone it if they don't all look alike. every time i'd think i found it, i'd round another corner that looked just like it.
so i look at the gps, i'm 2 miles from the top. the map squiggly is all over the place, back and forth, so i know the switchbacks are getting tight at this point. i come up on a left hander thinking to myself "i've got this licked," when suddenly my bike is dead. it didn't sputter, it didn't lurch.
it. just. quit.
it was like a rock dropping from the sky. i hit the ground so quick i didn't have time to react. the bike ended up sideways on a downhill slant. as i was flat on the ground, i realized i couldn't just right myself. i ended up rolling around on the ground like a potato bug until i could get my feet headed downhill and underneath me. it wasn't a pretty sight and i gave praise to the Lord that no one was around to witness my complete and total humiliation.
well, once my arm and hand pain began to subside, i realized the bike was still on, (not running, mind you) but the headlight was shining off into the ravine i narrowly missed. what to do. . .
okay, that last part was put in there for drama. i never once questioned what i was going to do. i knew darn well i was going to turn the bike to the off position and wait patiently until ye came back to right it for me. the only question rolling through my mind was how long it would take him to actually miss me.
suffice it to say, it was a while. i think he was at the top and ordering lunch. . .
okay, not really, but it was a while. so anyway, we got the bike upright and i gave it the once over. dang it! the crash took out my left mirror, and the left turn signal, although still attached, was hanging like a limp noodle. now normally, it's not a big deal and just the cost of doing business in the AT world, but if you've ever owned a bmw, nothing costs less than $100 to fix. and it goes up from there.
when ye made it back, he did this fancy thing to turn his bike around. it was impressive. he swung the back end of that heavy klr out and had it going the opposite direction when he stopped, back uphill again. it was a spectacular sight.
but the payment for that spectacular sight was his bike quitting and refusing to start. after he muscled my bike to a semi-level patch of ground, he boarded his bike and rocked it back and forth trying to find neutral. he kept at it, turning the key off, then on, rocking, hitting the starter ad nauseum. it was after several attempts that i yelled to him that his light was not coming on.
we did the ever so graceful shouting back and forth trying to get the point across as we both had earplugs in. we couldn't hear each other, but i'm quite sure people in phoenix some 90 miles away could hear us just fine.
so he had to pull his seat. only we didn't have a very good selection of tools. so he pulled out his leatherman, got the situation under control, started the bike (it was a short) and we headed to the top.
the temps were marvelous and we did a tour. all too soon, we decided to head back down. this time we took the paved road down the south side. by the time we reached the bottom at 11:30 a.m. it was near blast furnace temperatures. we stopped briefly on the way home and ye said, "let's get going before we spontaneously combust!" i thought it was a little to late for that but. . .
we made it home, stripped off our gear and dove in the pool.
it was a good day.
posted by Migratory Princess at
7:54 PM
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