Day 11: Blue Ridge to Flagstaff
I'm not dead yet! I think I'll go for a walk now...
Another resupply blunder today as I fail to verify the hours for Mormon Lake Lodge and remember them wrong. So I overlook the option of going off route to get food at Happy Jack. However, I probably would never have pressed on all the way to Flagstaff had I been able to resupply as planned.
Low point: death march into Flagstaff dragging my bonky, tired ass through Walnut Canyon. My Spot location must be off a bit because I am still on the Flagstaff Urban Trail and freezing when I get a text from Steve saying "Good job! You made I-40." I stop long enough to text back a pissy response and finally roll into town around 3 a.m.
High point: Trail magic. After arriving at the Mormon Lake to find the country store closed, an inquiry about vending machines leads to being gifted a small tupperware with someone’s leftover lunch. Inside I find a tofu stir fry with broccoli and red peppers. Tears of joy since the calories are sorely needed, not to mention the fact that I have not seen any fresh veg in days. I make great time on miles of fast, fun, and flowy singletrack during the final hours of daylight .
Most interesting thing: incredible moonrise seen from Marshall Mesa, her beaming presence a comfort as I struggle to stay positive and keep on trucking.
Low point: death march into Flagstaff dragging my bonky, tired ass through Walnut Canyon. My Spot location must be off a bit because I am still on the Flagstaff Urban Trail and freezing when I get a text from Steve saying "Good job! You made I-40." I stop long enough to text back a pissy response and finally roll into town around 3 a.m.
High point: Trail magic. After arriving at the Mormon Lake to find the country store closed, an inquiry about vending machines leads to being gifted a small tupperware with someone’s leftover lunch. Inside I find a tofu stir fry with broccoli and red peppers. Tears of joy since the calories are sorely needed, not to mention the fact that I have not seen any fresh veg in days. I make great time on miles of fast, fun, and flowy singletrack during the final hours of daylight .
Most interesting thing: incredible moonrise seen from Marshall Mesa, her beaming presence a comfort as I struggle to stay positive and keep on trucking.
Day 12 Flagstaff to... Flagstaff
Low point: the deepest void I have ever felt and realizing amidst my bonky stupor that the only option for moving forward is to turn back.
If I could change one thing from whole race it would be going straight to Denny's upon arrival in Flagstaff and ordering the biggest breakfast on the menu. Instead I grab a convenience store sandwich, cookies and chocolate milk before getting a room. All I can think of is sleep but once down a couple fitful hours is all I get. I check in with friends and family and grab a bowl of cereal while I splurge on laundry. Then my focus turns to long range plan, logistics and the need to get out of town. I buy food and supplies, mail home the spare tire, and hit the bike shop since it’s on the way. I intended to get a hot meal at some point but the Subway on route seems most expedient. I eat half and save half for later. I am trying not to waste time but it is still almost noon before I make it to the trail head.
I would love the trails in Buffalo Park, especially Moto Trail, had I a fresh engine and unloaded bike. But today all I can do is creep along in granny gear and walk anything requiring an extra ounce of power or finesse. I keep telling myself stick with it, you’ll perk up eventually. At Snowbowl Road I pause to evaluate. I have just taken most of the afternoon to ride 12 miles of easy to moderate trail and I feel physically and mentally bankrupt. I review my food intake for the past 12 hours and realize I have dug myself into this hole by failing to take care of myself. Ahead are now more miles than I can make up tomorrow and there's no way I have enough food to be out two nights, much less address the current calorie deficit. Without the resources necessary to proceed, I have no choice but to turn south and take the ride of shame back to town. Thankfully it is downhill.
High point: hearing a familiar voice on the phone in a lonely motel room. Losing an entire day feels like such utter failure but that can’t be helped now. Best to put it behind me and focus on moving forward. I have no doubt I can get to Utah; it’s just going to take a bit longer.
If I could change one thing from whole race it would be going straight to Denny's upon arrival in Flagstaff and ordering the biggest breakfast on the menu. Instead I grab a convenience store sandwich, cookies and chocolate milk before getting a room. All I can think of is sleep but once down a couple fitful hours is all I get. I check in with friends and family and grab a bowl of cereal while I splurge on laundry. Then my focus turns to long range plan, logistics and the need to get out of town. I buy food and supplies, mail home the spare tire, and hit the bike shop since it’s on the way. I intended to get a hot meal at some point but the Subway on route seems most expedient. I eat half and save half for later. I am trying not to waste time but it is still almost noon before I make it to the trail head.
I would love the trails in Buffalo Park, especially Moto Trail, had I a fresh engine and unloaded bike. But today all I can do is creep along in granny gear and walk anything requiring an extra ounce of power or finesse. I keep telling myself stick with it, you’ll perk up eventually. At Snowbowl Road I pause to evaluate. I have just taken most of the afternoon to ride 12 miles of easy to moderate trail and I feel physically and mentally bankrupt. I review my food intake for the past 12 hours and realize I have dug myself into this hole by failing to take care of myself. Ahead are now more miles than I can make up tomorrow and there's no way I have enough food to be out two nights, much less address the current calorie deficit. Without the resources necessary to proceed, I have no choice but to turn south and take the ride of shame back to town. Thankfully it is downhill.
High point: hearing a familiar voice on the phone in a lonely motel room. Losing an entire day feels like such utter failure but that can’t be helped now. Best to put it behind me and focus on moving forward. I have no doubt I can get to Utah; it’s just going to take a bit longer.
Day 13: Flagstaff to Babbitt Ranch
High point: weaving and bobbing through the trees among a herd of elk going my way on the downhill side of San Francisco peaks. Also, a mighty fine cuppa joe at Late for the Train coffee shop followed by a lovely pavement warm up climbing back to rejoin the AZT.
Low point: frustration and time wasted tracking down Little Spring. Why can't they just give you the waypoint for the actual location? Knowing where to to leave the trail and begin the Easter egg hunt is not that helpful! It is really good water though and a splendid spot for lunch.
Most interesting thing: I meet a southbound rider on a training run for Tour Divide. Good luck, Robin! I'll be watching your Spot. Also, while looking for a nice place to camp, I find a Trail Manor trailer near Rabbit Canyon. It makes a perfect wind block, at least until early morning when the winds shift.
Low point: frustration and time wasted tracking down Little Spring. Why can't they just give you the waypoint for the actual location? Knowing where to to leave the trail and begin the Easter egg hunt is not that helpful! It is really good water though and a splendid spot for lunch.
Most interesting thing: I meet a southbound rider on a training run for Tour Divide. Good luck, Robin! I'll be watching your Spot. Also, while looking for a nice place to camp, I find a Trail Manor trailer near Rabbit Canyon. It makes a perfect wind block, at least until early morning when the winds shift.
Day 14: Babbitt Ranch to Tusayan
A girl's gotta eat
I'm feeling pretty frisky when I break camp. After consulting mileage and profiles I imagine that if I ride well, reaching the South Rim Post Office before closing could be within the realm of possibility. Turns out I am not quite up to that challenge. But I do roll into Tusayan with plenty of time for a leisurely dinner, grocery shopping and a generous night's sleep.
Low point: finding the tank at Grandview Tower dry as a bone. Also, not sure why I experience such chronic difficulty navigating the route today. Fortunately all the unplanned side trips are short.
High point: the enormous meal of ribs, steak, beans, baked potato, corn on the cob, biscuit, and a salad at Yipee-Yi-Yo Steakhouse. I get a voice mail from Rich saying he's heading home after time spent touring the northern AZT sections. I'm so bummed to find out I missed him by half a day. Would have been nice to hook up for dinner.
Low point: finding the tank at Grandview Tower dry as a bone. Also, not sure why I experience such chronic difficulty navigating the route today. Fortunately all the unplanned side trips are short.
High point: the enormous meal of ribs, steak, beans, baked potato, corn on the cob, biscuit, and a salad at Yipee-Yi-Yo Steakhouse. I get a voice mail from Rich saying he's heading home after time spent touring the northern AZT sections. I'm so bummed to find out I missed him by half a day. Would have been nice to hook up for dinner.
Day 15: Tusayan to North Rim
High point: My day spent in the Grand Canyon is too marvelous for words. The scenery is, of course, gorgeous and stunning and ever changing depending on the direction and altitude. The sun is shining and the trail is good! I’m thrilled to be hiking in comfortable shoes without having to push a loaded bike. The fact that I’m carrying it on my back is but a minor inconvenience. I enjoy a second encounter with the gal who chatted me up at the steakhouse as well as all the strange looks, questions, and cheerful greetings from other hikers. The superlatives being thrown around make me uncomfortable though. I really don’t feel that special, just lucky, to playing hooky from real life and doing something I love. There are a myriad of things that can go wrong on a journey such as this so the fact that I’m still chugging away is indeed pretty amazing.
Low point: the final few hours of hiking up to the North Rim. The trek turns exponentially more difficult after dark when the temperature drops, the winds start howling, and the trail gets serious about gaining altitude. After forgetting to charge my mp3 player I get only 4 hours of music before the batteries die. At that point, alternative coping strategies become necessary. I'm shivering when I finally reach the rim around 2 a.m. and am grateful to find the bathrooms unlocked so I can escape from the bitter wind.
Low point: the final few hours of hiking up to the North Rim. The trek turns exponentially more difficult after dark when the temperature drops, the winds start howling, and the trail gets serious about gaining altitude. After forgetting to charge my mp3 player I get only 4 hours of music before the batteries die. At that point, alternative coping strategies become necessary. I'm shivering when I finally reach the rim around 2 a.m. and am grateful to find the bathrooms unlocked so I can escape from the bitter wind.
Day 16: North Rim to Utah!
Arizona Trail Race finish! 15 days, 10 hours, and 16 minutes
Low point: long and chilly morning ride waiting for enough sun to thoroughly warm up. Sending the sleep pad home to save weight on the hike was a big mistake. I could live without the padding but the emergency blanket I replace it with is useless at insulating against the cold ground. After four hours of frigid restlessness, the only thing that gets me going is knowing that each freezing mile in the saddle gets me closer to a hot cup of coffee at Jacob Lake.
High point: how could it not be reaching the Stateline Campground and seeing Steve’s smiling face? He’s up the trail snapping photos on my final drive to the finish. I am happy to oblige in slowing down so he can run ahead but I draw the line at backtracking for a posed shot. As much as I love the bike, I am ready to be off it. Tomorrow is my birthday and spending it out of the saddle will be my gift to myself.
Most interesting thing: Steve texts me to say he has brought a surprise friend. Trying to figure out who would hop on a plane to help fetch me home is a welcome distraction as the final miles pass ever so slowly. The surprise turns out to be my trusty Subaru. But it is also everyone from Texas who has signed the huge welcome poster hanging on the back. Just one more reminder of the home I have been missing. The race turned out to be more difficult than anticipated and though I wish I could have done better on some days, I am proud of my effort on others. I fail to make my two week goal but honestly, the real goal was never really the clock so much as making it to the state line. I am truly grateful for the experience and for everyone in my life who supported me and helped me achieve it.
Super special thanks to:
Sheila R, for loaning me a Spot, watching that pink dot day and night, and answering texts at odd hours;
Scott, for good company on the drive out and delivering my car back home;
Claire, for helping me improve my bike handling skills;
Misty, for making that fabulous poster and bragging on me all over the library;
the folks at Pedal Power and The Hub who helped me gear up for the ride;
everyone who watched the tracker and cheered me on from afar, and last but not least...
Steve, for allowing me the space to be my odd and intrepid self, putting up with my absences and training, constant support and encouragement, and meeting me at the finish with a cooler full of drinks and basket full of sweets.
I love you guys and could not have done it without ALL y’all!
High point: how could it not be reaching the Stateline Campground and seeing Steve’s smiling face? He’s up the trail snapping photos on my final drive to the finish. I am happy to oblige in slowing down so he can run ahead but I draw the line at backtracking for a posed shot. As much as I love the bike, I am ready to be off it. Tomorrow is my birthday and spending it out of the saddle will be my gift to myself.
Most interesting thing: Steve texts me to say he has brought a surprise friend. Trying to figure out who would hop on a plane to help fetch me home is a welcome distraction as the final miles pass ever so slowly. The surprise turns out to be my trusty Subaru. But it is also everyone from Texas who has signed the huge welcome poster hanging on the back. Just one more reminder of the home I have been missing. The race turned out to be more difficult than anticipated and though I wish I could have done better on some days, I am proud of my effort on others. I fail to make my two week goal but honestly, the real goal was never really the clock so much as making it to the state line. I am truly grateful for the experience and for everyone in my life who supported me and helped me achieve it.
Super special thanks to:
Sheila R, for loaning me a Spot, watching that pink dot day and night, and answering texts at odd hours;
Scott, for good company on the drive out and delivering my car back home;
Claire, for helping me improve my bike handling skills;
Misty, for making that fabulous poster and bragging on me all over the library;
the folks at Pedal Power and The Hub who helped me gear up for the ride;
everyone who watched the tracker and cheered me on from afar, and last but not least...
Steve, for allowing me the space to be my odd and intrepid self, putting up with my absences and training, constant support and encouragement, and meeting me at the finish with a cooler full of drinks and basket full of sweets.
I love you guys and could not have done it without ALL y’all!