SSAZ 2011: Revenge of the Dildo Wielding Vomit Monster

It's kinda hard to put an event like SSAZ into words. So much going on, some of it being actual bike riding, and sometimes nothing going on at all, but usually nothing going on while standing in a bar.

George and Keller scooped Emily and I up at the airport. Once I got to the hotel I anxiously built my bike in anticipation of any possible bike riding that might happen. Oh, and we sat around and drank beer.

Then we headed over to Dejay's House, shot the shit, collected Emily's bike... oh, and drank more beer.

After that a large contingent of single speeders headed out for some authentic'esque Mexican food... and pitchers upon pitchers of margaritas.

From that point on things went downhill. An enormous group of us hopped in George's rental Suburban and went to the airport to pick up Dough at some time that I can only remember as "dark." Once at the airport, we jumped out, assaulted Dough, threw his shit in the truck, and discussed how we would kill time for a couple hours till Mandy would fly in. You're just going to have to believe me when I tell you that the most convenient bar to the airport happened to be an establishment with topless women. Unfortunate? Yes, but when in Tucson....

The plan worked well, Mandy was picked up, and on the way back to our final resting places Dejay decorated the outside of the vehicle with some pre-birthday spew.

photo cred: George

The next morning was a little rough to say the least. Once we finally got moving we grabbed some breakfast, located a car wash (with much difficulty) and headed to the Fantasy Island trails.

photo cred: Emily

What did I think of Fantasy Island? It was basically like dodging cactus while riding on a hockey rink covered in marbles... sometimes failing to do so.

photo cred: Emily

After the ride we cleaned up, ate, and headed to the rider's meeting at the Sky Bar. We were there a bit early, but fortunately we caught the annual Meteorite Men fan club party. Seriously. Then we were treated to a drum circle and all the while one hipster did his best to start a knitting circle. Oh yeah, st some point Dejay showed up, took money from the late registrants, and that was the meeting.

The next day was the "race." Dough and I discussed the fact that neither of us had any interest in racing in February, so we agreed to ride a more gentlemanly pace. All riders were required to hike their bikes up the road and remove their front wheels for the Le Mans start. Wheel in hand and a 5mm allen wrench to put the wheel back on in my mouth, I waited for Dejay to drop the starting dildo so we could be on our way.

Once we were sent off some people ran to their bikes, some jogged, while others just meandered or mosied. Dough and I were climbing together into the mountains except for a brief moment when I sprinted ahead to get away from Dejay who was chasing me with his large dildo. He sure does like his dildos... and vomiting.

Once we got to an actual trail, things got interesting. Single track, to double track, to cow path, to dry wash, to rock crawling ATV trail. Neither Dough or I had a any way of judging distance, and we just trudged along at a slow but respectable pace. The variety of surfaces was confounding after spending some time at Fantasy Island the day before. The plinko section of the Chiva Trail was one of those pieces of dirt and rock that are the reason I ride a mountain bike. Miles are definitely earned at SSAZ.

When Dough and I rolled into the second and final aid station someone mentioned that we had @10 miles to go. We were both a bit relieved since we both thought we were closer to the half way mark on the 40+ mile course, and I was super stoked when I found the big bag of peanut M&M's laying on the ground before I headed back out.

Dough had told me he was feeling a little bit rough, so in the spirit of Team Bike29 unity I left his ass for dead. I headed out on the last trail alone, and made my way to the harrowing descent down the Milagrosa. I caught up to my PMBAR partner Elk who had had an interesting day of his own. He had broke a spoke, took a cactus to the foot, and gotten lost (not that everybody didn't get some kinda lost out there for a period of time). We would ride together a bit, he would gap me (quite easily), and then we would rejoin for some conversationally paced riding.

When I got the the Tequila Tree I was informed that the volunteers were told that I was to get a double. At the time I couldn't figure out who the culprit was that led the volunteers to dish out such desert justice, but I took my lumps as given.

photo cred: Rocco Rozza

Finishing the nastiest most technical part of the ride with two shots of tequila in my empty stomach was a bit nauseating. It's a non-stop "W(here) TF am I going?" all the way down to the bottom. I plodded my way down, caught back up to Elk, and we rolled in to the finish with a respectable 16/17th place.

There's more to the story, but I gotta go. Maybe I'll get back to it tomorrow, but I have to get my mom to the hospital at 5:30am for her chemo port installation.

Catch as catch can for awhile.