In these unusual time, I did what I normally do when things get weird, I ran away to the desert to hide. I’m down here in the borderlands social distancing (don’t worry, mom. it’s private property), sipping on tecate and watching the birds go by, when this gem of a song comes through the speaker
Looking around at my fellow social distancers then looking back at the beer in my hand, I had an idea. I bet we could have a big day on the bike riding over to Tombstone Brewery almost entirely on dirt from here.
I called up the brewery and they said they were still selling beers through the window. So we loaded up some water bottles with strong margaritas, grabbed some pop tarts and set out on a 50 mile round trip beer run. Hot damn.
It’s not the most technical ride. To be honest, the entire day was either on gravel roads or ranch double track. Which is normally not my style, but after three weeks of only seeing the outside world through my phone, I was down for some gravel boredom.
We had to get up and over a little mountain pass at the half way point, then coast all the way down to Tombstone and the beer. It was cool to get to the top of the pass and see a sticker from our buddy Justin. He does a podcast called The Desolationist. I’d recommend starting with the episodes where he interviews Cjell, DOOM, or Alexandera. It’s good shit, mostly about long rides, best listened to on long rides. But home-bound during a pandemic will have to do for now.
We get over the pass, drop down into Tombstone and it is instantly clear that the world is not right. Town is dead in the middle of tourist season, on a Saturday. Damn. I sure hope the brewery wasn’t messing with me. I’m getting real thirsty.
We pull up to the brewery, park our ponies and drink the coldest beer we’ve had in weeks.
We evaluate our carrying capacity, buy as many beers as we can haul plus one more for drinkin’ in the street. Because why not? There wasn’t a soul to be seen and Tombstone was a ghost town, yet again.
I love me some old school Wild West type shit and with no tourists around, it definitely allowed my imagination to run wild.
We waited out the heat of the day in the shade of what normally is a vibrant street full of bars. Luckily we had packs full of beer. Pleasantly hydrated we started our 25 mile swerve home.
The sunset was at my back and I found myself stopping quite a bit to have a look. While the mountains in front of me put on a good show of their own, with purples and pinks that I’m not sure a camera could fully capture.
This was the first big ride on my Mone Bikes La Roca and I think I’ll keep her a round for a little bit.
This was just a simple tale of a beer run. Normally this wouldn’t be anything special, but these are not normal times. I miss riding fucked up, technical trails with my buddies. But for now, this will have to do. I hope everyone is safe and as sane as possible out there. See you on the trails sooner than later.by
Those were supposed to be beer emojis, Chris
Bugging out never seemed so dreamy