I once rode up the canyon from Goldledge Campground to Sherman Pass where I picked up the Rincon Trail. Once on the trail it was 110* with no breeze. I was going into heatstroke and bailed down Packsaddle Canyon back to the highway. Halfway down the canyon I ditched my bike. I bushwhacked through stinging nettle and poison oak and the highway was no where to be seen. I wondered if I should stash my body so the critters wouldn't tear it a part, or leave it out for recovery so my family could have closure. Oddly I was at peace that this was how my life was going to end. I laughed to myself that I'd be that idiot in the newspaper. I had told nobody where I was going. My girlfriend knew I was leaving the mountain and driving to K'ville but that was it. I finally saw the top of a telephone pole as I was decending a dry waterfall. I made it to the highway and collapsed. A local drove me to the hospital. I stopped in at Mountain River Adventures and told John where the bike was but he ended up getting sick and couldn't get it.
The next week, the girlfriend and I drove back up, hiked in and got the bike. We started the hike at 5/AM and it was already 95* She looked at me and remarked that there was no sign of any human activity in the canyon then said, "What the eff were doing in here?" I just smiled as she called me a bunch of names.
I used to love to ride in sweltering heat, but since those two episodes I physically cant. A year later, I rode into Broken Arrow in Sedona. It was late June and it was hot. Once in the dead air in the canyon, I just turned around and rode back into town for a beer.