RUSA Permanent 991 -- Arivaca, Arizona

The ride will be just over 200 Kilometers, or on this route, 133 miles.

This morning it's only RBA Susan and myself. A bit cold this morning too, but it should warm up hopefully, mes amis...

My Trek 2.3 is working out well as a quick commuter and fun weekend bike. This Permanent we'll see how it goes as a brevet bike. I've got three water bottles and that should be enough between the controles.

Our early morning start is just on the southern fringes of Saguaro Nat'l Park.


Susan.

Yours, dressed warm.

We're on Mission Rd, and every Saturday morning, without fail, rolls the famous (or infamous) Shootout. Gentle Readers of This Blog, what ever you feel about the Shootout--it is some awesome fast road-racing! I love it! As promised, I tell Susan she'll get to say she rode in the Shootout with these blokes!

As the police are lurking everywhere to bust the Shootout Riders for so much as the tiny-est traffic violation (at one point a truck was pulling a flatbed so as to arrest and confiscate the roadies en mass) finding a place to take a "break" was a bit difficult. Just when we thought the peloton and the law had sped past--here comes another fast group.


Now for the Brevet Riders to Roll.


Helmet Peak. If you're a Tucson Cyclist, or Arizona Brevet Rider, mon ami, you know right where we are on Mission Rd.


After going through Green Valley kind of the back way, Susan and I are now on the Frontage Rd. that runs along I-19, which goes on down to Nogalas, and the border with Mexico.

Mt. Wrightson is the larger peak in the Santa Rita Range--to the far right on Mt. Hopkins there's a few big telescopes. In the foreground is the formation they call Elephant Head. One thing is for sure, there is snow, and a lot of snow! I believe this is a rare event.


We're rolling into Amado Jct--we'll need to stop and get water and a snack or two before heading west to Arivaca.


I've never stopped in this place but I hear it's not bad. On brevets, we've really not had time to stop and sit down and have burger. I should ask around and see what people say. There's a market across the street where we'll have to get water and fill up our bottles.


We passed through a Border Patrol Check Point on Arivaca Rd.


My beard is about as white as the snow on those mountains--I'm thinking it makes me look too old--and maybe I oughta shave it off. Anyway, this road feels like an old friend. When I first starting riding with Jerry Goode and Dave Glasgow out here, it was usually a lot hotter--and seemed a lot tougher.


On the 400 KM Brevet, this part of the course will test your mettle--after the brutal and forever long-haul on Mission Rd--the Randonneur must tackle these remote and scenic rolling hills for 22 miles--to make it to the controle in Arivaca. This has never been a simple task, mes amis.


This is friendly cafe to stop in and check out--but we really need more provisions down at the store in Arivaca. If you have time, you should ride in and have a coffee or sandwich. They have a restroom that is clean. The service is cheerful and the locals enjoy the visitors.


Get food and water here because there will be none until Three Points--almost 45 miles down the road.


We will ride about 12 miles out past Arivaca until we reach SR 286. We will be under the gaze of Baboquivari Peak as we ride through Buenos Aires Nat'l Wildlife Refuge.


It has been on the cold side today.


We are about 80 miles into our journey.


Left is Mexico, right is Three Points, and Robles Jct.


On this last long leg, Susan and I took turns pulling, to get us down the road. We had a slight tail-wind and that helped out for the ride back.


The road seems to go on forever, but soon we're past Baboquivari Peak--which had a bit of snow on the North Face--which I've never seen before... and now we're looking for the tall radio tower on the horizon, which means we're getting closer.


The sun is going down, and we're not far from the store at Three Points. On the 400 KM Brevet, riders are usually trying to get to the store before it closes--the flashing red lights on the tower can be seen from about eight or so miles out--it's a hopeful sign that this long leg of the ride is almost done.


We can stop and get water and food! And we'll need to get lights set for the short time we'll be riding in the dark. I felt pretty good today, Gentle Readers of This Blog--mostly because I ate and drank enough this time. I've been having problems with the bonk, and Hammer Gel this ride kept me up to speed. Having one extra water bottle helped too--it's important to stay hydrated, even though it was on the cold side today.


The Three Points Store.


This bike's seen a lot of miles, no doubt. I think it's a good representation of the people and the lifestyle out here in this part of the country.

This tower is our landmark. Good to see during the day--at night, such a welcome sight for the Randonneur--water and food, and a brief rest.

Allure Libre
Cheers! Bruce

Bike Crash

I was on Big Sexy and riding to meet Rico for evac—10 mile ride on the River Path tops. Just wearing my street clothes because it’s cool outside and the trip is short and quick.

There’s a narrow rail walking bridge and I was crossing, two walkers lined up single file on the right as I was coming behind them. I was riding carefully and had slowed down to pass them on the left.

Just then two blokes riding a bit fast, in my opinion, came onto the bridge. I was already past the walkers and merging back onto the right side.

I think the first rider over re-acted a bit as he braked, and his mate, who was right on his wheel couldn’t stop and rear-ended the first rider—and they went down.

They were okay, but I didn’t stick around—there is a bit of a blind spot on that bridge as you approach—so you have to slow down. You have to be careful.

My feelings about the multi-use path—concerning bikes—is that if you want to ride balls out, this is not the place. There are too many runners, walkers, people with their dogs and kids, and horseback riders.

If you want to ride fast, ride up on River Road which has a wide and smooth bike lane—of course it’s a bit more dangerous with all the car traffic.

Parts of the River Path are remote, so I believe its okay to ride 20 mph—but certainly not around the parks where people are walking and running and playing with their children.

See I have seen guys like the ones that were going too fast almost run down old ladies—and I think it’s rude on the part of cyclists. I have no sympathy for the guys that crashed.

They were being reckless.

text-hole

text-hole -- For the definition, see here

I’ve told you about my neighbor that I get a ride with back to Dog Mtn. She’s probably your typical Tucson driver: Big-ass SUV, speeder, tailgater, cell phone blabber, and all-around aggressive mean piece of shit. Not driving a car, she’s quite a pleasant person.

This trip she texted almost the whole way home—about 20 minutes none-stop—oh, and while tail-gating some poor bastard.

I think when she drives her SUV, she feels like she’s got a penis—just another prick flexing their entitlement, n’es cet pas, mes amis?

I just wear my street clothes for the quick ride to Heather's office. Big Sexy has fenders so that will keep me dry for the trip as well.

A cold wet day in Tucson--snow on Mt. Lemmon.

There's a new park close by Heather's office for bikes, runners, and horseback riders. It's very pleasant and there seems to be an old neighborhood where people have kept horses as I saw many stables and many horses--horses that looked happy and healthy--as in people actually ride them right there in the river breaks.

Here’s what she thinks of my innuendos about safety and courtesy

Cheers! Bruce

Owl Head Ranch Ride

Our journey begins at Park Link Rd and the I-10 Frontage Rd.

A bit of a chill in the air for our start, but not too cold.

Ancient Landscape for us to behold.

We ride as if on a frozen black river, through this sudden vastness.


Interstate 10 lies just at the base of Picacho Peak. In this shot, it's about 10 miles or more directly West behind us. Off of the I-10 Frontage Rd, with its roar of trucks and cars far in the distance, the Ancient Stillness of the Desert begins to settle into the morning air.

This fellow has seen better days--just off the road, he looked scarred and haggard--maybe from a failed attempt from a predator. Javelina are tough creatures and fierce fighters.

We climb slightly on this route, and have a slight headwind making us work to move forward.

The Great Owl's Head. Owl Head Ranch is about eight miles due South, somewhere near the base of those ears.


We are taking Park Link Rd. to Hwy 79, and then turning around. Just trying something a little different. Mainly we want to avoid heading down Hwy 79 to Hwy 77, which becomes Oracle Rd. Hwy 77 is a bit dangerous.

This cattle guard is at Hwy 79, or the Pinal Pioneer Parkway, and Park Link Rd. This is looking due West, the way we came. If you look toward the center of this photo, you can just see the Owl's ears.

As we fly back on Park Link Rd, heading West, The Great Owl in ever-present.

With the down-hill, heading West, we are riding 20 to 25 mph for long stretches of road--there's no traffic what so ever.


We had to carry Camelbaks for extra water as the route is remote.


We also are enjoying a slight tailwind on the way back.


Back on the Frontage Rd and heading back to Tucson--this is the tough part, mes amis, because there's a steady South Westerly headwind. It makes the trip back this way very hard. To this man we say, "Rest in Peace..."


A flat tire slows us down. My front tyre actually blew out. I didn't see what I ran over.

Ryan had a flat just at I-10 and Tangerine Rd, right before the long six mile climb back up to Dog Mtn.

At almost 80 miles, I am worn out--with the climbing and then the wind slowing us way down--this ride has been harder and longer than usual.

Tangerine Rd compared to Park Link Rd-- both are old East-West cattle trails. Tangerine is now haul-ass fast busy, with never ending steams of automobiles. Park Link lended itself to a much earlier and saner time. When I first rode on Park Link, it was dirt. Still, there are no power lines to bring electricity for our air-conditioners--or phone lines for our Internet. On Tangerine we are considered fodder for car driver's radiator grills--

On Park Link Rd, we are Gods.

Cheers! Bruce

X S UV, or American Woman at the Wheel

Riding home Friday early evening, on the bike path.

So, my Dear Gentler Readers of This Blog, I pack and do all the details the night before. Clothes have been ironed last weekend and are at work, hanging on the office door. Water bottles are full--post 27 mile commute ride-in munchie waits in my desk for my arrival--and I am seeing the gold lights of Tucson at 6 a.m. as I climb the cold foothills of the Tortolita Mtns (wherein lies my home in Dog Mtn) My my, mes amis, but it is bliss for the ride through the sleeping desert...

I came up with the stupid-ass idea to ride about six miles to my neighbors office after work--where she has a new job--and I throw in my bike into the SUV thing that is a land yacht--and we ride home. Its not quite light long enough to make it safe all the way back by bike.

Every night, Heather talks on her cell phone the entire trip back up to Dog Mtn. She is very loud with that cell-yell going on. She drives very fast, weaving in and out of traffic. She swears like a sailor at old people and slow people, and generally anybody that has a car that does not have the status of her SUV. Since she drives the largest, most expensive SUV--she is entitled to the road--all of it!

My neighbor is going to kill someone--or kill us both--or kill us both and kill someone all in the same shot. As she rants on the phone about meaningless bullshit to one of her illiterate girlfriends--I disappear it seems, and she forgets I'm riding in the seat next to her. Gentle Readers of This Blog, my neighbor is what every cyclist fears--and I have a front row seat--no wait, I'm like an anthropologist studying the ways of a primal warrior race.

Spoiled, self-centered, aggressive, and mean-spirited--Heather drives all over the road, weaves in and out and changes lanes suddenly--she sends text messages--and she tail-gates.

I believe Heather, my neighbor, is about 28 or maybe 30 years old. Her husband is one of my best friends. I love them both dearly... but holy shit! When she gets behind the wheel of her monster machine, she becomes a viper. Is this what America is all about? Me, me, me, get the fuck outta my way!

A Bit About Javelinas

Angelina Javelina

We have a neighborhood herd of javelinas up in Dog Mtn and I encountered them late last night. I was adjusting my Lumotec head lamp in our cul-de-sac, when I switched on and aimed the light as I came out of the driveway and down the street—there they were—all twenty-five or so of them. I quickly turned right around and headed back to my garage. Javelina stand their ground and fight. They are best left alone, Gentle Readers of This Blog.

An unfortunate runner came upon one not but a week ago and it attacked him. Other runners got the javelina off him—a police officer in his patrol car arrived, sounded his sirens, and that scared the animal away. But when it shortly returned to dish out some more fury, the officer shot and killed it. It tested positive for rabies so I hear.

At 5:30 a.m. when I rolled out, I was serenaded by a pack of coyotes. They sounded like they were in our backyard they were so close by. I didn’t mind them and just hoped the javelinas were long gone.

***


On the Raleigh Super Grand Prix in the cool evening, Tucson, Arizona.

My morning ride in seemed colder than normal—and the climbing seemed harder too. There’s more traffic and the roads are worn and rough. I took the long 27 mile route. When I got into the office finally—after almost two hours—I felt beat up.

I set up my Lumotec with the Schmidt Dynamo Hub, instead of using my Layton Light. I had also charged up my commuter battery light, so I added it so I could drain the battery down--it's not good to keep it stored and charged, it's best to drain it down--so I used the 10 watt commuter light on the up-hill to lessen the drag of the hub. I don't know if it's me just out of shape, but I sure notice the drag at times. The Schmidt Hub I'll need on the 300 coming up in late February.


All aboard the Freakin' Land Yacht!

After work, I got to my neighbor's office and stowed the bike--and I told her about the javelinas I startled last night. She said since they're building some sort of new apt complex in Dog Mtn, the javelina's habitat has been razed, and now they're displaced, and looking for food in the neighborhood. Kind of sad I think.

The desert is quickly disappearing, mes amis. If more people could experience the beauty of the desert instead of just zooming through in their cars, maybe we'd have more desert and birds and rabbits and mountain lions and bob cats, etc etc etc--instead of Taco Bell, Pizza Hut, McD's and Subway.

Allure Libre, mes amis! Bruce

Flying Circus

Stayed cold this morning for our ride to Mt. Lemmon.

The evening weather forecast for Tucson looked favorable from an easy chair in front of the TV, mes amis--Alan and I saw many cyclists on the road as we rolled out the next morning. There was one very large group of about 30 or more riders, all riding in what seemed perfect synchronization--Alan's comment that it looked like a "Flying Circus" struck me as pretty funny.

Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes made of ticky-tacky
There's a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one
And they're all made out of ticky-tacky
And they all look just the same

Clouds are out keeping things cool, even though we're climbing up the Catalina Hwy.

Alan and I had planned to ride up to Molino Basin, but the higher we climbed, the colder it became. We both agreed that we were not ready to battle gusty cold wind today--plus for Alan he was recovering from a bug.

About half way up there's cold wind and snow and ice.

As we were coming back down, Alan gave me some pointers on high-speed descending. The man can fly down-hill at 40 to 50 mph on the turns while I take a cautious approach. Big Guys have an advantage on the downhill--with that Gravity thing working for us. He showed me the best angle to take on the curves, how to position myself on the bike to lower my center of gravity--and how to steer the bike in the turns. I must say I came away with a much better sense of control and confidence.


Watch out you skinny lil roadies-- On Yer Left!

Cheers! Bruce

Selective Hearing

Callie is our 14 year old German Short hair. She’s done very well here in Tucson and has stayed fit—even after a bout of Valley Fever. Actually, it seems that our lives have often revolved around her, and before any plans are made, we must consider her and what she needs. I’m okay with that, Gentle Readers of This Blog. But in her old-age she has become demanding and uncooperative. She does what she wants.

I got ready for the long 27 mile commute into work last night by packing—and then re-packing; got to get rid of stuff I don’t need. Dang I forgot to leave my office shoes at work—so I had to carry them. Oh well…

I made it to bed early, or so I thought—Callie pulled a Cliff Bar out of my backpack and had a little before-bed-time snack. She gave me that, “If I can get it—it is mine!” look of hers.

At 4 a.m. she was pulling the blanket off the bed—her way to signal me to get up and let her outside. She’s too old now to jump up on the bed and knock the wind out of me.

4 o’clock in the morning and now I’m awake waiting for her at the door while she takes a pee and goes on backyard patrol. I was not able to get back to sleep for the hour that I had before the alarm would ring—I tossed and turned and just as I was going back to sleep—alarm is on and time to saddle up.

I need to roll out of Dog Mtn by 5:30 a.m. mes amis. Because of increased traffic up where I live in the mornings, I have to take the long safe route. It’s mostly all climbing—and when it’s cold, like this morning— it’s slow-going.

As I left to go out, Callie decided that she too had to go out—and she disappeared into the morning darkness—and I could not find her, and she would not come back. With my Layton Light blazing down the block, I spotted her, told her to get back to the house—but she gave me a vain glance and ran. I got her turned around and was able to coax her back into the garage with a piece of Cliff Bar—then I quick closed the garage door on her.

This episode cost me 15 minutes.

Decision time—instead of taking the long way with long climbs, I went the fast short way down Thornydale—which is now even more dangerous with heavy traffic and narrow crumbling asphalt. Going a fast 25 mph for three miles, and with my Layton Light—connected to my Dynamo Hub—I made it and drivers seemed okay giving me space. I made up my 15 minutes and then some. Shortly thereafter I found myself at the YMCA right about the time I would had I driven and parked the car. I did not want to have a repeat of a two hour freezing morning commute like the one in mid December. This morning as I passed the new Fire House at Ina and Shannon (intersection USA anywhere, mes amis) I saw the temp on their billboard was 44 degrees. I think is was 28 back on the December ride.

Still too dark to photograph on this dark morning…

My plan is to ride in 27 miles in the mornings and get in some base miles, then do an intense short commute to my neighbor's office--and then get a ride home with her back up to Dove Mtn. It's gettig a bit lighter as the weeks progress, but it's still dark about the time I would get to my car at the YMCA. Within that few miles it is so dangerous mes amis. In the morning there is not a soul stirring--in the evening at the intersection of Almost Certain Death, it is a mad house...


I love this freakin' SUV! Because I don't have to gas it up or make the payments!

Heather has given me the secret code to punch in and I can unlock the Thing and stowe the Trek. It's a Lincoln whatever--total bling! I just put in the bike and in two seconds I'm chilling and riding shotgun. I wait for Heather to get off work...


Oooo! Leather! And the seats have ass warmers--and butt coolers! Just push a button!

Heather told me that the job she has sucks (she was laid off her other job after 8 years) and soon she'll be otta there. She also admitted that the Thing (the SUV) costs too much to drive--it's just too expensive to gas up and is taking all their money. They really want to sell it--it's already worth less than what they owe...

Quick Commute on Big Sexy

I had an early morning errand at the UofA with Rico, and then got dropped off at the Desert San. After work, I did a quick 10 mile ride to rendezvous for a pick-up just off the River Bike Path as it was getting dark. It's been awhile since I've ridden Big Sexy--she's a tank! Here in Tucson it was about 70 degrees and sunny. By the time I hopped on the bike and started down the road, it was cooling off. Sun is coming back and it is a bit lighter... Good! Cheers! Bruce

2010 Begins Whether You Like It Or Not

"Play Ball!"

"If you're not going to get to ride--you must obey my commands!" That's what Callie would say if she could talk. She kind of does, with a sort of telepathy, and yeah I take her to the park and we do the ball thing until she just decides to jog home--with me following. Callie will be 14 years old in July.

Little Egypt has found lucrative employment as a professional with the federal government. Jobs are scarce in her specialized line of occupation--and she took, rather reluctantly, a job in Lawrence, Kansas. To make a long story short, the deadline was upon her/us and I spent about 24 hours straight helping her pack and do last minute things for her move across country. This leaves me a bachelor once more--at least Little Egypt is not deployed to the war, wearing 50 pounds of body armor--and getting shot at by Taliban.

I came back from the holidays feeling drained--I really wish I hadn't gone home... The Blizzard of 2009, and the long flights there and back left me drained, mes amis. We both felt the flu or some other bug coming up on us, so while Little Egypt slept, to be rested for her long road trip--I decided I would not do the 200 KM in Casa Grande with my Rando Brothers and Sisters--and get the car packed.



Little Egypt early Saturday Morning, January 2, 2010, about to leave for her appointment at university in Lawrence, KS.

Two years deployed with the Arizona Army Nat'l Guard, 15 of those months spent on a remote FOB on the Afghan-Pakistan border. Almost two years of unemployment on her return in 2008--a year to re-adjust from the war... Now having to leave home again--we need the income, and somehow Little Egypt has to move her career forward. Callie misses Bev already.

Gentle Readers of This Blog--some of the men and women who came back from Afghanistan like my wife, had few options, and many had no choice but to volunteer for deployment again. I know soldiers that have deployed--or been on tours--three and four times. There are not many jobs here in Tucson or Arizona. Little Egypt says that the pay is high and the benefits good on deployment. These soldiers don't want sympathy--just respect and understanding. They volunteered for the most part, and serve willingly. I don't believe they're in it for the glory--it is just a means to an end. Money for college, health benefits, support a family.


Got to un-pack. There are more brevets to ride soon enough!