Vague Idea Racing: True Grit '26

Long story short, I had an insanely excellent and also memorable time in Utah at the Single Speed aSSault on True Grit Epic. I may have not been in shape (unless round is a shape), and I mighta been underprepared in some ways and overprepared in others, but still, all was very buenos.

I'm throwing all the random images down at the bottom, so if you're less into wordy words, there you go.

I was initially worried about coming in early enough to get in two days of riding before the actual event, and I wondered if I'd really have any interest in riding the next day even one pedal stroke. I shouldn't have worried.

We had quite a crew of single speeders staying together. Kenny, Josh, David, Peyton, Gordon, and myself. We met up with a larger group of single speeders on Thursday to do the "official" DirtWire TV tour of Zen Trail.

I've done so many mountain bike endurance races sight unseen, just show-and-go with a very limited idea of what I was getting myself into. I've never analyzed so many feet of technical trail that I was pretty sure come race day, I'd have none of the beans needed to be given in order to clean them.

I was glad we only "rode" seven miles with eleven hundred feet of elevation gain. I got to see all the nooks and crannies where one could make good choices as well as bad ones, and some real fine places to leave some skin on the rocks. Not fully satiated, Keith, David, and I (not to be confused with Keith David and I) headed over to preview the tech bits over on Barrell Roll. That mighta been a bit too much on day one, but YOLO.

The lessons I learned from doing Moab Rocks on a rigid single speed in 2023 musta not sank in too deeply into my gray matter folds. Obvs, I was excite to ride the 32" bike around on new terrain, but even with big wheels, desert riding is a cruel mistress to the turgid rider. Only fifteen miles on the day, but my hands were feeling it.

So the smart thing to do on Friday was to ride over to the infamous Waterfall section. To be honest, anyone with knowledge of my capabilities and my strong grip to the mortal coil coulda just told me I'd be walking it, so no real need to see it. All the videos on the internet do not do it justice. Only two types of racers make it down the Waterfall successfully; extremely competent skilled riders and incredibly lucky idiots. I'm neither.

"Race" Day.

This is supposed to be a vacation, so despite the packed field of twenty seven single speeders, my goals were simple. Get this over with as quick and pain-free as possible. Once we rolled outta town, we were quickly on some silty roads at high speeds. What with the low light and dust clouds, my confidence wasn't high as I surfed blindly through the washouts, ruts, and sand with hopes that big wheels would compensate for my fork with no moving parts. I saw quite a few riders eat shit, which did little to bolster my sack nerves.

I can't remember when things got better, but they did. I missed some of the good lines I learned and then forgot on Zen, and somehow started riding the top part of Waterfall (duh), before we finally got out into the unknown parts of the course. Bearclaw Poppy looked like a motorcycle enduro track through the desert. One line turned into four lines then into two and so on for almost three miles of continuous descending, always wondering if I was taking the best line or the worst. No one passed me, so either I chose wisely or the big wheels were really rolling.

Paid the $15 for the photo, waited 24 hours, still nada... and so now you get a screen grab. Thorry not thorry?

Speaking of...

That six or seven miles climb outta that hole? Mang. Those wheels were cooking, and I even had a geared rider drafting off me at thirteen to fifteen miles an hour at one point. Honestly, I think after mile twenty or so, I never got passed again. I realize there are multiple factors at work here, but I was getting the hang of getting this bike through the tech more efficiently (and slightly less painfully). Even through the last bits of tech on Rim Rock and Barrel Roll, I was getting a good feel for things.

I finished unscathed. Neato.

Seventh on the day (although stage-racing Josh beat me as well, so whatever).

Good hangs with friends from all over after the race followed by one more day of riding and staring off cliffs at Gooseberry Mesa and avoiding abrasions.

Can't say I'm not tempted to go back next year, albeit on a bike with some squish up front, wheel size TBD.

Six single speeders staying in one place and no one can find a chain whip, so the game becomes "who can come up with the next best thing?"

"I thought someone else would bring one..."

A very commonly heard thing in the garage.

APES STRONG TOGETHER

Many probable and mebbe likely solutions, but only one worked 100% of the time (the above was not it).

So many bikes were worked on in an upside down manner. Tell me you tension your single speed "right" side up, and I will tell you that you did not unless your right side is upside down.

Fonta and flora aplenty. St George cacti for example.

I'll never forget the group ride at Gooseberry MeSSa (unless I do, but that's a me problem).

MeSSa MeSSing around.

Little guy on big wheels with something to prove. It's magically delicious.

Although David's older Kuat rack wouldn't hold the 32" wheels, Josh's newer one would quite handily... so suck it, Pink Bike pundits.

The final kick in the ding dongs: