Mikesquatch Versus The Love Boat

Finally the death grip of winter is releasing it's hold on the North East and the troops are coming out to ride the trails of Stewart. It really is fantastic to watch how nature is revitalizing itself and waking up from the winter hibernation.
With 5000+ acres of woods and singletrack you never know what you will encounter during the spring thaw. Usually it is the empty Budweiser cans and shot gun shells from the hunters and an occasional deer carcass with the arrow still embedded in it's side. Apparently, due to the recent storms raging through the New York metro area, a number of flights had been diverted to Stewart International and the increased noise had aroused numerous forest creatures early from their winter hibernation. As we pulled into the parking lot we caught sight of one rummaging through a pickup truck obviously mistaking a gold Niner singlespeed for a giant twinke. Startled at our arrival we caught this snap shot of the beast fleeing back into the wild.After some police like investigative reviewing of the photo, the Mayor came to the conclusion that we had in fact startled the rarest of all backwoods animals - Mikesquatch. We were able to finally coax the startled beast out of the woods by opening several bottles of very hoppy IPA. Listening to a dialect that can only be described as a mix of Northern Canadian "Eh", Joe the Plumber wisdom and a dash of Liggett/Sherwin euphemisms we realized that in fact the hairy beast was the long lost Hawaiian Mike Davidson.
It turns out that during a solo fall ride Mike had been kidnapped by a very lonely and horny female Sasquatch and she was determined to mate before going into hibernation.Having mistaken his mop of hair, overwhelming physique and ability to take on the greatest of cougars (Katie Couric) in a mano-a-mano fight, for a male Sasquatch, poor Mike was spirited away to a winter of Sasquatch love. Aroused from a winter lovefest by the jets, Mikesquatch seized the opportunity and broke from the cave to return home and rekindle his love of the bike.
Welcoming Mikesquatch back to the pack, we all set out to ride and clear the course for the upcoming Singlespeed-a-Palooza (the greatest singlespeed race on the East Coast). Well that winter of love and feeding on Sasquatch milk proved to be far superior to any training that the rest of us had done. Right from the start Mikesquatch was at the head of the pack and this time there was no mid ride nuclear explosion and the short cut back to the parking lot. No friends, he was up there torturing all of us with a blistering pace. Perhaps it was the Sasquatch milk (rumor has it that WADA research is indicating that the oxygen carrying capabilities of the milk is far superior to EPO) or just the fear of being dragged back into the cave for another session of animalistic love. Either way it was great to have the old Mike back in the fold sucking down countless cold yeasty malted beverages in the parking lot - a lot more then can be said for Friar Rossi who was off on a cruise on the Love Boat.Hey Friar when you get to Fantasy Island listen carefully and you will here "Ze Boat, Ze Boat" and when you land say hello to Ricardo Montalban and Tatoou.

The Hangover

When it comes to the last day of an epic adventure like this one there is only one thing to do – go on the most epic of rides. For some an epic ride is defined by the time in the saddle and the distance covered, for others it is the amount of vertical gained over the course of the day. Well loyal fans this one was epic based solely on the ability to make your taint pucker and in this Hangover achieved it’s success.
Arriving at the Mund’s Wagon trail head our worn bodies slowly unfolded out of the car and set about getting the adventure underway. No sooner had we started up the first section of trail with Griff tight on Paul’s wheel then suddenly Braveheart was down, but not just down, he was buried deep a bed of cacti and not liking life at that moment. Holding back the laughter (after all it was a classic) we all started picking the thorns out and within minutes were back on the trail slowly grinding through the technical riding, making our way to the first section of slick rock – the Cowpies. At one point we had once again lost our way until we came upon a pack of Arizona cougars that put us back on course. Progress was a bit slow and this was not the last time we would run across the pack.
Once on the slick rock it was time for a bit of play before setting out on the first of the exposed sections, the ledges.Continuing up the trail Top Chef continued his mastery of technical riding, putting on a clinic on how to ride exposed ledges and drops. Meanwhile taking up the rear was your author whose primary interest was surviving to meet up with the Doctor later that night. At one point attempts were made to ride up some of the steeper sections of slick rock and the price was paid.Finally, with bloody legs, and I once again having bent the derailleur, we managed to make the saddle and who was there but our pack of cougars. Pretty embarrassing when 3 older women hiking manage to beat you to the top when you are on a bike. Well it was our lucky day as they offered to snap some choice pictures before we plunged into the heart of darkness.
The next step was to make the drop right behind us and cross the angled slick rock before dropping into the trail. Trust me the exposure on this shot is much greater then it looks with more then 600’ of rock slab at a 45 degree angle to slide down if you got it wrong.Once in the trail, Paul was gone and for a few moments I was able to catch a glimpse of Griff doing his thing before he too rode off leaving me to ride some but mainly hike-a-bike the rest. Here Griff makes it around a rock outcropping that has a choice 100’ sheer drop on the right.The trail went on like this for what seemed like an eternity with countless sections of exposed drops on one side and vertical walls on the other and trust us it was singletrack wide and nothing more. Finally we came out to an open space where we could settle down for a fantastic view and gather up the courage for the next section.After riding and hiking down the slick rock we were on the backside of the butte and making our way across some more, slightly less exposed single track. The reward at the end of this was sections of super fast downhill through the high desert forest.Back on the Mund’s Wagon trail it was the last of the singletrack before getting back to the trail head. Immediately we grabbed our towels and the festivities began. Next stop was the pulled pork feast before finally hitting the IGA for numerous IPAs to finish off the night. Back at the hacienda Paul and Griff saddled up to go out for one final ride, I on the other hand started pouring cold beer down my throat , celebrating being alive.

The Not So Epic Epic Deux

So hard was yesterdays ride that even the bikes put up a protest today. Waking and baking to a numerous cups of coffee as the team readied for part 2 of the Epic Epic (it was time to finish the trails left untouched yesterday). Both Top Chef and Braveheart grabbed their rides only to discover that yesterday's epic had left the latex punctured (thankfully there were no pregnancies to report) and a bit of quick repair before loading up the car to head for the Jim Thompson Trail head.
With unfinished business from yesterday we arrived at the trailhead for an out and back adventure taking in Jim Thompson/Jordan/Soldiers Pass/Tea Cup/Jordan/Jim Thompson to complete the cosmic loop that Chewie had laid out on the first day (I am sure that Chewie was getting a good chuckle out of us attempting the ride so early in the season). Rebounding from day 2, Braveheart clipped in and was up the first climb with Top Chef in pursuit and C-Dubs coming apart at the hip. Griff's recovery form the previous day was right there in the annals of cycling with Floyd's Stage 17 comeback. The riding was a bit more open then the past two days but this time was strewn with numerous sections of loose rock on both the descents and climbs. Again Top Chef was the class of the ride but this time Griff was glued to his wheel while I was back a bit suffering in my own private Idaho. At the end of Jordan we set about looking for Tea Cup which Chewie had assured was a trail not to be missed. After riding around in circles, outrunning the rock crawling jeeps and going out and back on Soldiers Pass we found the elusive trailhead. Immediately the climbing began but this time we all had a smile since we would be descending the same smooth forest trail later in the day.
At the top of the trail it was time for lunch and a mid ride attitude adjuster to ensure a superior attitude and superior state of mind before setting off back down Tea Cup and across the mountains to the trailhead.No sooner were we back at the car then the incredible thing was at work locating the freshest IPAs to be had - The Oak Creek Brewery. Here we feasted and drank like viking warriors after a conquest leaving our waitress with fear in her eyes. Back at the hacienda, Griff still had energy to burn and headed off on a walkabout on the trails behind the condo. Both Top Chef and I were amazed at the energy being displayed and after almost an hour suddenly out of the trails wandered a little chid and then a pregnant woman. We both did a double take and commented that Braveheart was indeed a busy man on this hike!

The Epic Epic

We were awakened by the blast of sunlight pouring into our estate, Montezuma's Castle (an appropriate name given all of the violations of the Geneva convention on gas warfare that were taking place).Suddenly a blood-curling scream emanated from deep within Braveheart's core. Apparently during the previous nights drinking binge of El Charro's the Incredible Thing's ringer had inadvertently been turned off and we had missed the call to meet up with Chewie for a run down trail 420.
After drowning our sorrows in a mug of java and some leftover Chinese food, it was off to the bakery for a bit of breakfast. Here we were greeted not by the cigarette chomping clerks of a NYC deli but the sweetest young ladies of Oak Creek, complete with sarongs and pigtails - at least one of us was quite smitten and would be back later. Once back at the castle final preparations were being made for the days journey with Top Chef whipping up some first class PB&J's to keep the engines running all day. Not satisfied with the gluten count or the quality of the bread Braveheart grabbed the keys and was out the door headed back to the bakery mumbling something about having those pigtails for dessert. Back at Monte's, the bakery sandwich turned out to be worse then our PB&J's but, not wanting to delay any longer everything was jammed in the Camelbaks and we were out the door and on our way for the epic journey covering lower highline/templeton/baldwin/old post/teacup/jordan/jim thompson/roadway/broken arrow/llama/equestrian.A couple of hours into the ride and we found ourselves lost in the foothills, going back and forth on one of the side trails as we searched out the final climb of Old Post. Finally after sitting down for lunch and breaking out a towel we began what seemed like the hike to nowhere, riding up a dried out river bed before finally reconnecting with Old Post and clearing the summit for an awesome ripping downhill into Central Sedona.With a nose that rivaling a bloodhound, Top Chef navigated the streets and brought us right to the front of Starbucks for the traditional dope-a-chino pick me up. At this stage we came to the realization that unless we could find a couple rounds of EPO there was no way we were going to make the next section, Teacup/Jordan/Jim Thompson so a fast asphalt downhill through Sedona and we were back at Broken Arrow for the final stretch home. Just when it looked like we were home free I managed to put a wheel right into a rock and did a fantastic impersonation of Superman as it was over the bars and head first into the ditch below. With cat like reflexes I managed to avoid injury although the Titus Mototank I was riding didn’t fair quite as well and would require an overnight session at the shop for repairs.We pulled into the hacienda right at 4:20 and quickly set about getting into the right frame of mind before heading out to Elote another another night of El Charro’s. The combination of the alcohol and long ride left our coordination at a new low resulting nacho chips all over the floor as the bowl was repeatedly knocked off the table as we lunged for another sip of the medicinal powers of El Charro. Barely making back we celebrated the day with several rounds of IPAs I proceeded to pass out while Top Chef and Braveheart took in the latest in Friday night TV before succumbing to the days effort . At some point in the night I awoke to find the boys out cold on the couches with an infomercial blaring about pros and cons of IUDs and the sensations they make on a man's organ - now that is quality TV.

Day of El Charro

With only a couple hours of sleep, Top Chef and I headed out in search of the great American refresher - Starbucks. Making use of Braveheart's "incredible thing" (iphone) we were able to quickly locate and procure multiple cups of java. While there you really got the sense of being in a retirement community when a couple of customers asked if we were out on spring break! Jacked up on caffeine, the bikes went together and we were off to Bike and Bean for a trail map and guidance for the coming days. There we encountered Chewie who laid out a fast flowing run of about 35 miles that included classics such as Broken Arrow, Llama and Big Park Loop which dropped us right back at the shop. Enthusiasm was evident right from the start with Top Chef showing everyone why he is the Zen master of technical single track.Braveheart (sans kilt) was throwing it down hard on every open climb, giving us the "Lance stare" before sprinting ahead while crop dusting us.Following the ride Chewie pointed us to PJs for post ride carbo loading and assured us if we could hang in there and party that night he would show us the way to the super secret 420 trail. With a glean in our eyes we rode off to PJs only to arrive and find that if you weren't driving a pickup truck, smoking Marlboros and a red neck you were in the wrong bar. This proved to be no barrier to us and after engaging "toothless Laura the best bartender in town" we headed to the outside lounge to enjoy the sun and indulge in the post ride debrief that included Don Julio 1492 margaritas and Long Hammer IPAs. No sooner had we settled into our chairs then virtually every red neck in the bar joined us for their cigarette break in an attempt to smoke us out of their home turf. On the ride home we came upon a less fortunate individual that after 5 too many Jack Daniels drove his Blazer up onto the traffic circle and managed to hit a motorcyclist in the head with an empty JD bottle that flew out the window. Amused by this we headed into Sedona for a spectacular dinner at Elote and countless rounds of El Charro, the best margarita ever.On the way home we stopped off at IGA for a round of drunk shopping to stock up for the next days planned Epic. Despite eating until we were ready to explode, Braveheart still managed to consume over half a pack of string cheese by the time we hit the register. As soon as we were back at the condo it was the mandatory drunk phone call to the Mayor with a simple response - "f*#kers! We woke in the morning to find that Chewie had stopped by but the toll of the previous night's long flight and subsequent lack of sleep left all of us passed out and unresponsive to his calls.

Why The Airlines Are Going Broke

Having had enough of the never ending winter Top Chef, Braveheart and I set our sites on the mountains and glorious single track of Sedona, AZ for a winter reprise. Despite the questioning of this move by The Calf, the three muskateers were sure this was the right call, even after being trapped at the armpit of East Coast travel - Newark International - for the better part of 4 hours. Not being ones to waste a long night at an airport, we immediately shuffled over to the bar for a bit of food and copious amounts of fine yeasty malted beverages. Everyone knows just how bad an airport meal can be, but with Top Chef in our party we were assured that culinary pleasures one could never imagine were going to be served up. A bit of quick work with a plastic knife, meat ball hero and 3 beers and there it was for all to salivate over.....the mini hero.With the first plane grounded due to a broken AC unit we all shuffled over to the next gate for a change of planes. Once there we learned just why the airlines are going broke. Continental, using every last bit of brain power came to the conclusion it was better to have everyone wait 2 hours for a plane to be moved from one gate to another rather then just having everyone walk to the next gateway, which would have taken about 15 minutes! Finally we boarded the plane to settle in for the flight and a quick check of the watch confirmed that we were taking off after our scheduled arrival in Phoenix - this was beginning to suck. Then I swore I was having a flashback when I reached up to turn on the overhead light and it was broken - just like the flight back from Moab - this was going to be a long flight. Finally on the ground at close to 1am, we grabbed the car and with the pedal to the metal, headed for Sedona, managing to break the land speed record we set on the way to Moab and in true vampire style getting to home base just before the sun came up.

Time For A Visit To The Doctor

No not the proctologist, it's time to pack the bags and head west for a visit to Sedona and everyone's favorite Doctor - Wesley McClearn. Sadly the recent S-Works testing incident has left the good doctor in the position of being the master of the 12oz curl. While he is visiting and taking in the sights of Sedona, which I am sure are vastly different then Prescott, Top Chef, Braveheart and C-Dubs will be attempting to complete the ride that the fallen warrior Nico was unable finish due to the call of the desert PBR.