Intro To Desert Wet Weather Riding
by:
Mr. Excitement from Phoenix
Dateline: 1/25
It all started innocently enough. I thought I would get up early and get in a ride before anyone figured out I was gone. I was out the door at 6:00 and headed for the Desert Classic Trail out at South Mountain. This normally tends to provide me with a nice workout. I got there in the dark, suited up, stretched out and warmed up around the parking lot until it was light enough to see the trail.
It was about 47 degrees, there were a few raindrops here and there but I had on water resistant tights and had a waterproof jacket tucked in my hydration pack. About 2 miles out the rain began to come down a little more steady. I was having a good ride and kept barreling on. Still undeterred, I figured the rain would probably pass on the other side of the mountain as most precipitation is spotty out there. Besides, we are in the middle of a six year drought. After another couple of miles I stopped to put on my waterproof jacket. It just kept raining harder- but hey, I had just driven 30 miles to have a nice ride by myself and damn it! I was going to have it.
About 7.5 miles out, the trail that had been previously damp suddenly turned into a small river. The deluge had become biblical. The only other bikes I had encountered were fleeing in the other direction about 5 miles back. About this time I ran into two joggers being followed by a large Husky that had a backpack on...or maybe it was a life preserver, I couldn't tell.
Okay, I thought now would be a good time to start back even if it meant admitting defeat before hitting the end of the trail. With my brief riding career pretty much limited to dry desert, I quickly became acquainted with several little inconveniences of riding in the rain... 1. Wet rocks are damn slick. 2. When you are pedaling hard you breathe through your mouth. 3. Any gathering of muddy trail water hit at speed that misses soaking your crotch will instantly be redirected to your open mouth. 4. Wet sand is crunchy and tastes like sh*t!
I pedaled on as the rain just kept coming down harder. I was gathering so much wet sand on my clothing and bike that I looked like a portable beach. My front derailleur kept clogging with sand and sounded like someone had thrown a hand full of bolts into a blender. I had to stop 5 or 6 times and rinse it out with drinking water from my hydration pack. That's okay, I wasn't going to get thirsty anyway after drinking all that muddy trail water. With every push of the pedals quarts of water oozed out of my shoes providing the rear tire means to throw even more wet sand up the back of my jacket and hydration pack.
The fun feature about this trail is that it has a great series of short ups and downs. And as we all know, if you pedal down like hell it will give you the momentum to power through the up section with little or no effort. During one of these blasts I hit a large, slimy puddle as I was starting on the up which pretty much rendered my eye protection a muddy object of abstract art. It was at this moment my pedal connected with a large rock. The forward motion instantly became lateral motion as I was pitched sideways landing directly on my knee. I hit the ground and was still clipped in to the pedals which sent the bike over the top of me for one more revolution while still being attached (don't try this at home...). I got up and noticed the large cactus that I had cleared while being airborne. I then felt something tugging at the back of my tights and turned around to find a large cholla ball attached to my ass end. After a careful extraction I sloshed on. About 1 mile out from the parking lot I was pedaling against the current, fondly remembering how much more fun I was having a few years back in the emergency room getting my knee sewn up from a motorcycle accident than I was having on this ride today.
Back at the parking lot I had a dry set of clothes and I changed in the back of the pickup under the camper shell. I made two piles of clothing in the bed of the truck- one wet, one wet and sandy. It was then I noticed I had a knot on my knee the size of a ping pong ball. No wonder it hurt. I was fortunately able to get the bike loaded before totally soaking my dry clothes
Having packed up I immediately went in search of the nearest Starbucks. I had to settle for a Coffee Plantation and ordered a 5 gallon latte with 20 extra shots of expresso and a muffin so large that I needed help carrying it out to the truck. In a mere 5 minutes I had accomplished enough calorie intake to totally negate those expended in my last hour and a half of liquid hell. As I pulled on to the freeway heading home, I looked over to see the sun shining on the mountain I had just left.
I spent the next two hours at home with the hose spraying sand out of gear, the bike and the bed of the truck. I felt obligated to crack open a new bottle of Bailey's. Circle K has these nice straws for 44 oz. fountain drinks that will clear the neck of the bottle...
