Silent Sundays

One Sunday a month in the South Mountain Preserve is set aside as a Silent Sunday. No motorized traffic is allowed in the majority of the park, and thus, the noise of cars and motorcycles buzzing around is eliminated and replaced with... well, nothing. After a full, busy two weeks running around in the hustle and bustle and noise of life, it was nice to have a silent Sunday. After five miles along the Desert Classic trail, I was deep within the preserve. I stopped underneath a small mesquite tree to get a bit of shade, and as I set my bike down to get some water from my pack, I noticed the stillness and the silence around me. No noise - no horns blaring in traffic jams, no machines throbbing in the background, no television, no phones, no iPod. No bugs flying around, no lizards darting from rock to rock, no havelinas rooting around in the sand, not even a wind to stir the dried leaves on the ocotillo. Complete silence. A beautiful nothingness. A brilliant contrast from the normal course of existence in the Valley.

After the past two weeks, the silence was definitely well appreciated. Last weekend was spent up in Flagstaff for a 10s rugby tournament. Although 10s is not as fast paced as 7s, it is definitely more fun (as a back) than 15s, and the Scottsdale Lady Blues faired very well against all comers. I played a bit of outside center and fullback, got a few trys, and had a great time mucking about in the muddy fields (it was cold and rainy in Flag, but it was a nice change from dry, hot Phoenix). Out of the five games, we only let two trys get past us (one was completely my fault... ooops), and scored hundreds of points. We won the tourney, and won the rugby party as well by dressing up as American Gladiators.

The week itself went well with lots of promising results in the lab and plenty of time spent in the subbasement working on the electron microscopy project. On Tuesday, Angel, Kelly, Kohl, and I went to the Dave Matthews concert. He plays amazing live shows, and this one was no exception with an almost full moon rising behind the stage. Unfortunately, as I was being mesmerized by the incredible instrumentation and energy of Dave and Co., Come From Behind (my ultimate team) was being mesmerized by the hucks of Filthy McNasty. We're now 1-2 for the season. Ouch.



On Saturday after watching the Boilers demolish the Faulterin' Irish of that school from South Bend, Jeff and I made a road trip out to Western New Mexico. Schnepf Farms is actually in Queen Creek, but it was a road trip down there. Well worth it though, as it was the site of EdgeFest 2007, one of the Valley's best music festivals. Jeff knows almost all of the local bands, and his friends include various promoters and all the staff at Crabby Don's - the bar that was catering the event, so we got backstage passes, VIP, the whole works. It was amazing. We hung out with all of the local bands, talked to The Plain White Ts, had (free) lunch with The Bravery, and drank lots of free drinks. The music and energy in the place was just incredible. The band lineup itself was amazing - from two of my now favorite local bands, Comfort for Change and Vistalance, to the main stage acts of Hot Hot Heat, The Bravery, Flyleaf, Plain White Ts, Jimmy Eat World, Social Distortion, and Bad Religion. As a VIP, we got to stand practically onstage for these awesome acts. I had wanted to see basically every band that played the mainstage, so I was in heaven. Jimmy played every song that I wanted to hear, and had a great show back in their homeland (they're from Mesa). For Social Distortion and Bad Religion, Jeff and I gave up our cushy spots at the front of the VIP section to join the craziness going on down below in the melee of the crowd. We put our energy drinks to the test as we hopped around in the mosh pits and crowd surfed to our heart's content. You couldn't wipe the smiles off of our faces as we soaked up the incredible energy. Totally natural, crazy high... no drugs needed, just music and good people. I think that was the most fun I've ever had at a single concert, and that's saying something for me. Afterwards, we crammed half of the crowd into my Jeep (ok, just 6 of us, but it seemed like a lot more) to head to the afterparty at Crabby Don's. Again, lots of funloving people and a few more bands. I didn't partake too much in the free alcohol that abounded, but chose to just bask in the ambiance and chill with some good friends for the rest of the night/morning. When I finally headed home, I was smiling from ear to ringing ear with hundreds of good memories of EdgeFest 2007.

Sunday morning and early afternoon were spent watching the Bears and Colts at BW3s with a few friends (and some enemies who were rooting for the other teams). The Bears don't seem to do well with or without the Gross-man, but at least the Colts won :). After we'd had our fill of football and wings, I headed out to South Mountain to get in at least a little bit of adventure for the weekend. My original goal was to take Mormon out and National back, but the temperature was still hovering just under 100 degrees, and the lack of sleep and electrolytes had me thinking otherwise. So, I opted to do something else that I had wanted to do for a long time. I finally rode the entire length of Desert Classic. After riding out in Flagstaff and Prescott, the DC was a piece of cake. After I got past the water tank, I didn't see another biker, hiker, or horse for at least 3 miles. Alone, with just me, my bike, and the still desert around me. In the valleys of the foothills, I might as well have been deep within the Sonoran Desert as opposed to the middle of Phoenix. All I could hear was the rattling of my chain as I changed gears and my rattled breath as I charged up the hills. The beauty of the silence and solitude was invigorating, and my despite my fatigued state, I rolled along the hot, curving singletrack with bright eyes and a happy heart. Finally, after nine miles, I crested a hill and looked down into Ahwatukee - houses and palms trees and roads and telephone lines. Distinct from the rest of the ride filled with saguaros and mesquite, I knew that the trail was over, and I zipped down the last of the foothills onto a suburban street, feeling the wind rush past me as I let gravity take me down to Chandler Blvd. Without the trail to keep me entertained, I slogged the last ten miles on the road and went home for some well earned barbecued ribs. After a wonderful weekend of life in the balance between rocking and reflecting, I'm ready to tackle the week ahead.