Squeal. Like a stuck pig.

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Last week,before my trip to Lake Powell , I took a shot at this year’s installment of the Squealer. Now I know that 90% of the people reading this site are not from Arizona and some are even on the clear other side of the world. But let it be known the if you are ever near central Arizona on Easter weekend, you have something to do. This annual gathering of the tribe puts man against mountain and it is an incredible amount of fun. To me, it is everything that mountain biking is supposed to be. Grass roots, register at  a bar, the timing is done by hand, and no governing body to kill the vibe. Your “number plate” is only a little sticker you put on your fork leg. It simply states your starting position and your start time. Don’t be late.

What our very official start line looks like. I’m not a morning person

Being of the slower variety, my start time was pretty damn early. It felt especially early this day as I pushed up the hike-a-bike to the start at 5:30 in the morning. As buddy MP put it “I  think I got bit by a tequila monster last night”. I think the same guy bit me too. That could explain the amazing headache and nausea I had that morning. Not racing really wasn’t an option. So the only course of action was to have another beer in the parking lot and get on with it.

It was a perfectly warm morning and I couldn’t wait to get started. Armed with my #occupybikeseat t-shirt and a single speed, I set out on my race run at 6:07am. Damn, I was having some fun. The first few miles flew by and I felt like a million bucks riding up those hills. Cutting diagonal across a paved road I sat up for a brief moment to take a big pull off of my water bottle and catch my breath. I knew the fun section of trail that was coming up and I wanted to enjoy it at full speed.

As I rolled into the first little chunky technical section my front tire decided to “burp” off of the rim. I don’t know if you have ever experienced this before, but I wouldn’t wish it on anybody. In the blink of an eye, your tubeless tire comes unseated from the rim. You have a split second to think “well now that was a funny sound, I wonder what that was”.  Then tire sealant squirts everywhere, the front end washes out, and then you probably hit the ground. Well, at least thats what happened to me.

Last year I had the pleasure of telling the story of Gnome’s victory at this race. This year, I can say I was the one that brought home the trophy. That little flat tire incident, regardless of my finishing time, won me the “Bloodiest Rider” trophy.

I really didn’t think it was all that bad.  But come to find out, not too many other people crashed and nobody else seems to bleeding. Since competition was so slim, I got the trophy and a bottle of champagne. To the victor goes the spoils.

Photo courtesy of DurtGurl http://tinyurl.com/7jrz4c3

DC brought home the hardware again this year. I can’t wait for next year.

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About dirty biker

I am a fan of singletrack, singlespeeds, single women and single malt. Currently in Carbondale, CO Follow on Instagram @dirty_biker

10 Replies to “Squeal. Like a stuck pig.”

  1. Damn dirty biker, never figured you for the shaved leg type, that’s okay though, guess it came in handy here, i’ll still read your posts and live vicariously through your exploits (fat tire trip in baja, all the spur of the moment pack up the rig and go stuff)

  2. Way to go Dirty! One of my highlights from this year’s race was everyone telling you NOT to wash off the blood so that you’d have a chance at the award. It was an usually blood-free race this year – lucky you!

    Awesome report.

  3. …jeez, dirty…i’ve seen things like that trophy before but they certainly weren’t on cycling sites although they did cause a few squeals…

    …just sayin’…

  4. i’ve never done the squealer, but i have candy-assed my way up and down national a time or two and i have to say i’m a bit suspicious that this surface wound won worst damage done, i say next year you chisel chests finish at the bottom of telegraph, i’ll be waiting at the bottom with a keg of San Tan Brewery Devil’s Ale to take the edge off for whoever makes it down in one piece

  5. The Squeeler is one of the greatest races I have ever had the pleasure of doing. Sad to say it’s been 9 years since my last National all the way ride, but if you go through the old website archives, there are more than 1 photo of me and spanky in drag dropping our eggs!!
    ANd kids, word to the wise, don’t ever do a MTB race with a wig on, you just might choke.
    Bye the way, was Jim in his viking leather fuck vest this year or has that been long retired?