The Innagural ¡Cabra! laid proper waste to a cohort of supreme folks like only an epic ride can; the five riders above were the only one’s left on sunday willing to don chamois’ and continue on to the finish… the Hippy wears a halo for a reason.
The prize put up for the hard knocks was a one-off hand made Averbeck Chalice. A prize worth having indeed. But we’ll get to that…
Saturday dawned with self and fellow bike camper Benson enroute to the departure zone. The chair was light weight good for bikepacking. Pay n Take served up breakfast for a crew of strong fellow cyclists, all destine for a bit of suffering. Hellbelly rounded out support with “The Bus” complete with tap handles off the side.
The idea was simple; Leave the comforts of small town livin and ride to the Grand Canyon off-road, hitting up the recent additions to the AZT out around Bizmark Lake. It was an 80 mile tour among friends and it was splendid.
A group of strength rolled off the front. I was out rummaging for flowers. Others were on their own excursions. The day was supreme with cloud cover lasting well into the afternoon becoming more of a blessing as Babbit Ranch came on.
The new sections of the AZT were in prime shape that day except for a short stretch of pot holes left by recent horses. It is routed through some prime AZ forest.
All the while, wild Iris and all other forms of flowery whatnot were in peak bloom. Upon learning from Garro that there are Orchids here, my search was rewarded. Dropping of the pack of rolleurs was worth it.
Not an Orchid.
The northern slopes gave way to the grass land of the mid section… Babbitt Ranch; where the terrain changes to dust, cow shit and weeds in a matter of minutes. Our Attorney – the person we call before we call our parents - gave up his day to volunteer with an aid station out there in the middle of that. We stopped for lunch, beer and water while he took everyone’s bike in turn, and lube up the squeaky bits. I was slowly entering the pain cave at that point.
The head/cross winds out there are always consistent. Always a bitch. I struggled across the open flats. I’m sure everyone did. Once we started climbing back into the trees of the South Rim, I traded places countless times with Spann. Then it hit me.
With plenty of daylight remaining, I stopped in the shade of a ponderosa, watched Spann roll on, and laid down to take a nap. A power nap of sorts I awoke slightly refreshed and got back on the bike for the final kick. About a mile up from where I snoozed, I regrouped with Spann at an intersection. He missed a turn or so. I considered it good fortune and I paced off his wheel for the last 10ish miles. Nine hours after breakfast that morning, we rolled into camp where everyone was already cleaned up and sipping brews and had been for some time. We all sat around a fire, drank, ate, and wondered why it took 20 minutes for a cin-a-bon roll to catch fire.
With the majority being satisfied with the first days ride, those final five riders who had the audacity to done spandex on Sunday determinded the rules for winning this innagural ¡Cabra! The Chalice would be won by whoever drank a pint the fastest back at pay n take that afternoon. Nobody realized the Hippy was a beer pounding miracle worker. He had his hands raised before anyone knew what happened. Because I was absent from the details of the finish, Nate has the full skinny over at Handlebar Sandwich. Next year, things will be different.
July 1st, 2009 at 2:20 pm
Epic gnar.