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Dirt Rag Articles
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Priceline is cool. Pittsburgh to Phoenix, for about $200 apiece. The only catch is an out-of-the-way layover in Newark, New Jersey. Uneventful, save for the view from the airplane of the New York skyline sans the twin towers. Spooky.
When we arrive in Arizona, our new friends Steve and Bev put us up (up with us?) for a couple of days while we do the event, which takes place at Estrella Mountain Park. Estrella Desert Park would be a more accurate name. Not much around but sand and cactus. There is a drought here, as in much of the country, and the Mexican poppies that spread over the hillside last year are nowhere to be seen.
We unpack the Kenda tires and Dirt Rag swag, and get busy. As the weekend progresses, 29 lucky and intelligent people walk away with free Kenda tires along with their new or renewed subscriptions. The folks at CEP Productions graciously inserted the magazine into the race packets, and the AZ Fattire.com crew helped pitch the mag and the pop-up as well. Thanks, everyone.
The event is done by 3 pm, so there is plenty of time to ride. The folks at South Mountain Cycles were happy to provide me with a Specialized Enduro Pro and Thanita with a Stumpjumper. Ride South Mountain we do. Desert Classic trail, the (not so) Secret Trail and up National Trail, figuring we need to work on our uphill technical riding. While we do a bit (mild understatement) of walking up National, the way down is a blast. Despite Steve’s purist scoffings, we renew our appreciation of full suspension down this section.
Sunday: repeat. And that’s a good thing.
On Monday, reports of near-zero temperatures in Flagstaff make a Tucson visit an easy decision. The decision is made even easier by an invitation from Way Out West Treks N’ Tours, a Touring company/bed and breakfast at the foot of the Samaniego Ridge in the Catalina Mountains. But not before we head to Phoenix proper to check out the Titus factory. The head cheese, Chris, is having a very Monday type of Monday, but graciously takes the time to show us around and answer a bunch of questions. We leave Titus with t-shirts and two of the nicest loaner bikes you could have—a Loco-Moto for Moe and a Racer-X for me.
Tuesday, we awake at Way Out West, where CJ and Mary Ellen have combined a mints-on-the-pillow B&B with a mountain bike touring company, complete with a fleet of Cannondale rental bikes and a trail system extending as far as you can imagine—right from the back yard. After a breakfast of fresh (insert another plug here) Brueggers bagels, yogurt and every type of fresh fruit you could think of, we are ready to ride. We swoop through some grin-inducing chutes off of the 50 Year Trail, and are humbled by the sand and rock of the Baby Jesus trail. This is beautiful Sonoran desert country—the cacti (especially the ancient saguaro) are beautiful; that is, until a close encounter has me bent over, shorts around ankles, yanking spines out of my butt. After Moe has three successive flats, the call of the grill, margaritas and hot tubs at Way Out West is irresistible. The sounds of the desert fill the air as we sip our drinks and watch the mountains fade to purple in the last rays of the setting sun.
Maurice/Thanita
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