Labor Day Weekend Adventures

This weekend's lack of plans went quite nicely. Since San Diego was apparently having some sort of border control riot, the temperatures were soaring there, the waves didn't seem to be doing much according to surfline, and the campsites on the beach were all reserved, I figured it might be best to just explore Arizona instead. I've been here a few months over a year, and still have a lot of exploring to do.

The weekend started out around 6:30 a.m. on Saturday morning. As I headed up to Angel's house, the sun had just begun to hit the tallest peaks in the South Mountains, bathing the Valley in morning light that promised to get well above 100 in just a few hours (hence the reason for leaving). Up in Scottsdale, I met up with Angel, Bill, and Michelle (a guy, he's French :)) and we all headed north on I-17, destination Prescott. As we headed north, the elevation slowly increased: directly proportional to the number of trees and inversely proportional to the temperature. I became mesmerized by the gyroscopic effect of the tires on Angel's bike hanging off the back of her car. Since I had nothing else interesting to look at in the desert, I tried to figure out the effect it was having on her car... left tire spinning clockwise at about 80 RPM perpendicular to the movement of the car, right tire counterclockwise at an angle about double the speed of the left, 26" rims, 70 miles per hour... my scientific conclusion was that I am a nerd and that I should stop thinking about those sort of things on vacation. We soon exited the Interstate and took AZ-69 towards Prescott. As we got further along the highway, the cactus gave way to scrub oak and then the scrub oak finally gave way to pines as we turned onto Senator Highway and into the Prescott National Forest. When we stopped at the trailhead, it was 80 degrees, the skies were blue, and the air was fresh at over 6000 ft. The four of us got out the bikes and started climbing up Trail 307. The first couple of miles were through the pine forest and up the mountain. It was great training for our future mountain bike and adventure races, as we tried to bunny hop our way up rocks and logs. Some of it was a bit too steep and strewn with obstacles for us, so we were forced to hike-a-bike long stretches at a time. We weren't too concerned, as it gave Angel and I time to discuss details of what we want ODP to be, and also gave us a bit of time to get some oxygen into our bloodstream. Three miles later, we reached the top of Spruce Mountain, elevation 7693 ft. We took a well deserved break at the very top, enjoying the good company of fellow adventure junkies and stories of past mountain biking adventures. Then the fun began. From the top, the trail curved around the ridgeline for 6 beautiful, wonderful, adrenaline-pumping miles. The course was dotted with logs (placed by Forest Service for erosion control) and rocks (placed by God for extra fun). At first, I was a bit timid, as the logs posed a 12" drop or greater in places, often followed by extensive rock gardens, narrow singletrack along the ridge, and plenty of twists and turns. Bill went first, and was well ahead, and I followed Michelle, with Angel in back. Once I saw how Michelle was taking the obstacles, I decided that I could do it as well, and with every log I bunnyhopped (slowly, cautiously at first), I gained confidence. Once I gained confidence, I started to fly, and whoop with pure joy and exhilaration. Talk about living in the moment... this was life... adrenaline rush and then some. I caught up with Michelle about a mile into the downhill stretch. He took a head-over-handlebars approach to one of the logs, and ended up breaking his fall in a bed of rocks. He's a very resilient guy though, and went about fixing his busted front tire as if nothing had happened despite the scrapes up and down his arms and his knees which took the brunt of the crash. We continued on the rest of the trail without any additional injuries (although Angel hurt her toe when she got so pissed off at her bike that she kicked it... the bike won). We flew through pine forests and scrub oak patches, barely able to take in the scenery. If you took your eyes off the trail for one second, you were going to eat rocks, quite literally. It was a huge rush though, and the confidence that we all gained was amazing. At one point, we lost the trail for a bit, but it was blessing in disguise, as we stumbled upon some end of the season blackberries, which tasted as good as they did back in July. Before we knew it though, we were back at the trailhead, a little bit scratched up and a little dirty, but with smiles on our faces that couldn't be wiped off.

To celebrate the successful ride, we all headed down to the square in Prescott for some brew and grub. I had never been into the town before, and it pleasantly reminded me of the town square back in Salem (Indiana). An old courthouse surrounded by old red brick buildings full of character and delicious food. We all dug in to half-pound cheeseburgers and a sampling of the brewery's 11 different beers just as a summer thunderstorm opened up outside. It could not have been any more perfect. After lunch, the guys headed back to Phoenix, and Angel decided to tag along with me in my lack of plans. Since it was already around 4 p.m., we opted to hang around the area instead of trying to find someplace new. We first explored a small lake in the National Forest. Since there was no swimming allowed (what is it with these lakes in Arizona?), we watched some guys fish for crayfish with a rock, a piece of string, and a huge hunk of turkey bacon. Just as we walked by, they caught a 6" long crawdad, and we stopped to see it hungrily devour the meat before taking home a bit for the family when they guys let it loose.

We then tried our hand at bouldering back at the trailhead. Although there was chalk all over the good handholds, we found ourselves to be pretty novice at the sport (at least on these boulders), and ended up just climbing the easy routes. After we wore ourselves out there, we loaded up with our gear, and headed back out into the woods to camp. We found the perfect spot nestled back in the pines in an area with a lot of big boulders. Angel found a rock that acted as a perfect recliner chair, and we pitched the tent and hung the hammock right next to it. For the rest of the evening, we just watched the stars and the clouds move across the sky while sharing stories and eating Doritos. It wasn't until it started storming that we finally succumbed to the tent (though I stood outside the tent munching on Doritos for a few minutes in the rain wondering whether it was going to let up or not... it didn't, so no sleeping in the hammock or on the rock for us). Once in the tent, Angel entertained me with stories of how bandits might be lurking outside, waiting to pounce when the moment was just right. The human mind will do weird things when it's dark and stormy... and I fell asleep listening for the sound of footsteps amid the drops of rain.

We woke up to a bright sunny, clean morning. We broke camp around 9 a.m. and decided that a big breakfast and coffee for Angel would be the best thing to do. We headed back to Prescott where their Labor Day Festival was going strong on the square. After a big breakfast, we spread the Arizona map on the hood of Angel's car, and contemplated where we wanted to go next. Angel mentioned that Bell Trail in the Wet Beaver Wilderness would probably be great for mountain bike training, plus there was was a creek with rocks to climb and cliffs to jump off of. Sounded good enough for me, and we took off down AZ-169 headed northeast. As we drove, the pines turned into scrub oak, and the scrub oak turned into mesquite again as we lost a little elevation. The sun was shining hot overhead when we got to the trailhead, so we topped off our water containers, took off our shirts, and started biking up the red dust trail. The first two miles were great: enough rocks along the wide trail to keep things interesting and a bit of a breeze to keep us from overheating. Then Angel informed me that there was going to be a bit of an incline where we were going to have to carry our bikes, and then things would level off again where we could ride again. So, we carried our bikes, it leveled off for about 100 meters, and as we came around a turn, there was another long stretch of rocky incline. No big deal, carry bikes again, flat stretch.... and then another incline. It was hot and tiring, and I kept busting my scratched knee against my pedals as I carried my bike. The trail became very narrow along the ridge, and just as I was passing a small wash that fell over the cliff, I rolled my ankle. Now I was hot, tired, pissed off, and hurting, but just glad that I didn't topple over the edge. I rolled my left ankle again on our last incline and basically walked my bike the last half mile to where Angel was waiting for me at the swimming hole. I was frustrated, and thought about kicking her like she had kicked her bike previously, but I knew that it would have done about as much good as it had done her, so I just locked up the bikes and we walked down to the swimming hole. I instantly forgave her as I laid eyes on the red rock cliffs and boulders with the clear, cool water waiting in deep pools below. There were a few other people there, and one girl was standing at the top of a ledge, contemplating whether she should jump or not. Throwing caution to the wind, I ran up behind her and just leaped into the nothingness and down into the refreshing liquid below (she figured that if I could do it, she could too, and she followed suit shortly after). After the hell that we had just been through, it was pure heaven. We spent the next few hours swimming, climbing, jumping, and just generally enjoying the scenery. Late in the afternoon, we reluctantly unchained the bikes and made our way back along the hellish trail. The bad part wasn't as bad going downhill, though in my exhaustion, I walked much of it as opposed to trying to get some training down the rocks. The last two miles flew by, and before we knew it, we were back at the trailhead... where there are several signs posted that read: No Biking in the Wilderness!. Oops. $300 fine oops if we had been caught, so no more biking on that trail, for a whole lot of reasons.

At that point, Angel had to go back to Phoenix, but I was determined to stay out of the Valley as long as possible, and donned my pack again and started hiking back into the canyon alone. Well, mostly alone, I did come across a cool hippy guy who had found a snake on the trail and spent a few minutes talking with him and admiring the snake (it looked like a garter snake back in the Midwest) curling around his arm. After two miles, my shadow had become very long in the setting sun and I found myself in between two large outcroppings of red rock with the creek in between. I slipped down a little cliff and set up camp along the stream as the sun began to set. I spent the evening eating Mountain House mac and cheese, reading West of Jesus (about science, surfing, and the origins of belief), and just enjoying the solitude of the wild. I would also be lying if I said that I wasn't a little bit lonely and wary of the bandits that Angel had placed in my head. I fell asleep early as rain started pelting my little tent.

The benefit of falling asleep early is that I also woke up early enough to catch the sun rising over the eastern rim of the canyon. From my tent, I could see the moon and the first rays striking the rock hundreds of feet above my head. Canyon wrens were singing their songs and other birds joined in on the chorus to bring in the new day. I soaked up the solitude and peacefulness of the little valley as if I was the only person on the planet. For a long time, I just sat and watched the sun creep along the canyon walls until it finally burst forth into the stream, lighting up my world. There is nothing more humbling than watching the methodical, timeless work of the natural world. You realize how simple, fragile, and precious life really is, and it's times like that when I really feel blessed to just be a part of it. When the sun had fully infiltrated the camp, I broke down the tent, spent some more time just reflecting on the beauty of the world, and then started back towards the trailhead. I stopped for a breakfast of prickly pear fruits (how great is it that I snacked on blackberries in the same weekend), and leisurely made my way along the trail. Once back at the Jeep, I sloughed off my pack as a Prescott College van pulled into the gravel parking lot. Two guys quickly jumped out and started pulling out packs and maps like their lives depended on it. Soon after, a fire truck pulled into the lot and started talking to the two guys, followed by an ambulance and a fire chief's truck. With half a dozen rescue personnel milling around, I went over to see if there was anything I could help with. Although they appreciated the gesture, they seemed to have everything in control for the situation, and quickly explained that they were on a rescue mission for a young woman up somewhere in the wilderness. With that, I decided that maybe I had had enough adventure the weekend, and that a trip into Cottonwood's wilderness wasn't entirely necessary to do by myself. No need to overdo it and end up needing a rescue. Though Angel later put it best... if I ever do live in a small town like that, it would be fulfilling to be a part of a volunteer rescue crew and give back to the community in that way.

I (as well as the Jeep and my bike) wasn't too happy about heading back to the Valley, and just to reiterate the fact, as we hit the Maricopa County border, the outside temp. gauge hit 100 degrees. But, we all got back safely with a fun, exciting, relaxing, and enjoyable Labor Day weekend in the books, lots of good stories to tell for weeks to come, and many other places to explore in Arizona in the future.