Southeast Mesa Long Loop

Conditions proved pretty ideal for a 32 mile ride on Saturday. So while others were preparing for 24 Hours in the Old Pueblo (one state away), myself and a friend decided to tackle a route we'd talked about doing for a while now. Well, I talked. He'd done it a time or four already. His comment, about two thirds of the way through, was "I always forget how rough that part is."

'That part' == the Sierra Vista Trail that runs up along the southern part of the Organ Mountains. If you're talking highway exits, it connects University Ave in Las Cruces with the Mesquite exit via one nicely paved road and one horribly wash-boarded dirt road. So add in a bit of frontage road and there's the loop. But the fun part is of course the single-track.

This trail has obviously seen a lot of use in the past few years since I first road it. What were sections of trail covered with small loose rocks have become either gravel pits or sections covered with large loose rocks. Sometimes both.

The essential fun of the trail is still there. How fast can I go and not take a spill when I miss a turn? Or, how slow can I go to avoid the cactus, but still have momentum to ascend the other side after crossing a major arroyo?

It is also the trail where I learned about 'tenting' -- something for which I mercifully have no pictures of. Please put your minds at ease, this is not what you might be thinking... It is what happens when you crash into a cactus and thorns break off underneath the skin. I'll say only that extraction involves lining up the holes with the thorns underneath, pushing and then using a pair of needle-nose to remove it. (If a thorn offend thee... pluck it out.) Enough said. Now you know why pliers are considered Essential Equipment in the High Desert.

No catastrophes this day however. Just one long steady fun ride where your eyes are glued to the trail and each time you stop, you notice just how much the scenery has changed. It doesn't pay to be a sightseer while riding this trail, but you're welcome to ride it and give it a shot. It is very scenic. Let me know how it goes.

Side note: Been messin' the MyTracks app on the 'droid phone. Here's a couple of GE views created from the GPS data. Enjoy.

West Mesa Long Loop training run

Woke up barely in time to have a couple lattes to go with my breakfast enchiladas. Mmmm... Now that's eating for the road! I threw a pear and some cereal bars in my pack and headed out.

The Goal: 40 miles
The Plan: West Mesa Long Loop
Mental State: Ready to roll and overconfident

We're in a buildup phase here at High Desert Racing, meaning I'm in a buildup phase, being the sole member of the team. But I managed to talk a friend into this little venture. It was as easy as saying "Hey, it'll be fun..."

Most folly starts that way, I'm sure.

So we begin executing The Plan. It's five miles to the river and then there's a long one and a half, maybe two mile climb up 300-400 feet up to the mesa top overlooking the Mesilla Valley. From there the plan is simple: ride, turn left, ride, turn left, ride, turn left, ride some more.

Couldn't get any simpler, could it? Up on the mesa there is generally nothing but long straight roads. Only problem was the particular directions they go, after doubling back on ourselves with the first two left turns. We end up getting dumped back into the valley about 15-20 miles from town. My compadre, being smarter than me, announces at our last rest break before descending back into the valley that he is calling for a pick up. At this point, I'm still thinking "I can make it". Yeah. Uh huh.

Rides between 15-20, maybe even 25 have become somewhat of a staple. I've even done another nice long loop that ended up being 35 miles. Rock and roll. I'm thinking "50 can't be so bad... I can do this". We ride on to the pick up point and we're early. I decide to press on. After all, I haven't even done my 40. My friend has, but I lacked the few miles he got a head-start with, so I felt like I needed to prove something.

I'm sure most folly continues that way.

So I ride on, and the miles don't seem to be clicking by so fast. There are several little towns that need to be ridden through. In between, it's cars and trucks passing at 50 mph with no bike lane on a two-lane road. Not my favorite riding conditions. Finally, the aching in my legs and a certain desire to stand in the saddle caught up with my foolish ambition. Hoping my friends weren't far off yet, I texted my friends and asked for a ride. One minute later they pulled up. Nice service!

I hit stop on the GPS and read the mileage -- just over 40. Though I will admit they offered to drive home at 10 mph just to make it look good. But no, I could never do that. Well, unless I was so exhausted I just forgot to turn it off... But then I'd edit out the in-vehicle miles later if that happened. Hey, so far this race team has perfect continuity in terms of ethics. Whatever I do, no matter how bad it sucks, I'll stick to what happened, not what I wish had happened.

So I got dropped at home, legs really screaming at this point. Check the photo below for a candid look at how I felt. Yes, that is my own dog laughing at me.



On the bright side though, I was given leftovers from a pancake breakfast. And a bit later another friend came by with a growler of Stout from High Desert Brewing Company. The day was just getting better and better. At least the pain had stopped anyway.

I'll take the 40. I'm happy. I met my personal goal for the day, but WTF? How am I going to pull 50, much less the 82 miles of a one-loop pass at the San Ysidro Dirty Century? How do people do the full 123-mile full two loops? I'm fricken delusional if I think I can do this.

¡Ay, caramba! This is a team in crisis.

The plan may need modification. Alternatives may have to be explored. Passive voice may have to be used in the writing of this blog.

The bottom line is that I'm not going to get a 2X performance increase over the span of the next 5-6 weeks. That's ok though. I'm an engineer. Time to set the mind to work and find a set of problems and start solving them. I might even use science. Perhaps even logic and reason... But I don't want to overdo it. There's room for much foolish thinking yet. Plus I should never underestimate the motivational power of a beer after a long day's ride.

Clearly though, the road to success is going to involve lots of riding.

Actual training begins...

Damn last night was cold. But it is good to be out here, I think as I wake and stumble around making breakfast. First surprise of the morning: no silverware. I took it out to wash it after my last camping trip and never put it back. Lesson learned: never wash the campware at home.

I'll skip the gory details of what ensued, save to say that oatmeal eaten with spicy corn chips is... well, good enough to eat anyway. I succeeded in getting down some calories so I go in search of trail head. And find it I did. I saw a few RVs near the 24HITOP start/finish, but few other signs of life. I powered up the laptop to take one last look at the map and didn't really have a clear idea where things went. I knew I could find a cutoff near Willow Spring Tank that would let me shorten the ride to the time I had available. Given my recent history trying to navigate with memorized maps, I was a little hesitant to set out solo. But then I remembered that if I had common sense, I wouldn't find myself in these positions in the first place.

Fact is, I've ridden solo a lot. I can't always have the sense to tell someone where I am going, or -- for cripes sake -- drag them along with me as insurance against breaking a leg (or worse) in some inconvenient location. Nah, riding solo is part of the deal. Not knowing where one is going: slightly more concerning. Not having a helmet: forget it - I ain't discussing it. I mean, I would wear one if I had the good sense to pack it. But having failed to plan, I just can plan to fail (to not go ahead with the plan, that is). Let's just let that one go. Besides, if I don't wreck, I won't need the helmet, right?

So here's my summary of the 24HITOP course, about a month or so before the official 2011 event takes place or at least the part of it that I rode: beautiful. Smooth as a babies butt. Ok, that's pushing it, but hell and damn! All there is to land on around here if one does take a spill are soft sand and cactus! My training ground is rife with "don't land here" places where the rock speaks louder than the cactus. By comparison, what I rode today is like a Kansas prairie. Please don't think I have any misconception about what it will be like during an actual 24-hour event. It would be a completely different story if I were there then.



In fact, don't tell me I have no idea, and this is why: Because I have no idea what a 24 hour race is like. But I will... and in the meantime, my imagination is good enough that anyone who gets any number of laps in has my respect. As I said: it is a beautiful course and I rode about two thirds of it, once, and in under the pleasantest of conditions. I look forward to reading about people's experiences once it happens. Good luck if you're one of the ones going. It should be a fun one.


Ok, now back to the story of today. The ride was great, the view beautiful, and although I saw plenty of cars at the main parking area by Willow Springs Arch, I didn't run into a single rider on the trail. I guess I was not only going the right direction, but keeping a pretty steady pace.

The last little addendum to this day was a trip into Tucson and riding with friends at a place called Fantasy Island. Thankfully they had a helmet to lend, because there was zero chance I've come out of that ok without one. I didn't take a spill, but had I been *worried* about taking a spill, I would have. Without a doubt.

I can't say enough good things about that place either. The number of options is insane and the trails just double-back on themselves so much that a few square miles becomes and endless playground. Glad for my guide, we did the Lone Cactus Loop, Burro Pit Loop and then Bo's Loop. Opportunities for more than a little bit of air-time exist as well. Wish I had whatever sense it would have taken to know when to go all out and when there was a cliff with a 90 degree turn just out of sight. Oh well, I won't spoil it for you -- just go. Find someone fast and follow them. What could go wrong, right?

Overall, 22-something miles of mountain biking in a day, topped with some truly excellent pizza (Tuscon's best, I'm assured) it was an excellent day. With training like this, I forget that it's work...