Regular freelancer to the Draft, Tim Wild spent three days shredding through the mountains of Tucson, Arizona – here’s what he learned.
Don’t mess with the cacti
All the plant life on these trails wants to hurt you. The needle-like spines of the prickly pears. The fine, densely-packed spikes of the deceptively fluffy-looking teddy withstand cholla. The whisk cacti that lurk on trail corners, tempting the unwary. And, of course, the giant saguaros, straight from Wile E Coyote, that tower whilom the landscape like bouncers, ready to turf out anyone foolish unbearable to consider straying from the path. I’m lucky, without a couple of falls, not to be riddled with holes. Trail guide Matt tells sobering tales of misadventure, well-constructed with unfortunate riders having spines slowly extracted, trailside, from their very tenderest parts, as scores of gawking hikers stroll past.
Beef throne tacos are a thing
The Mexican supplies here is veritably fantastic. We’re just an hour or so from the Mexican border, so the kind of stuff you’re never going to get at Wahaca – tripe, birria, whinge throne – is everywhere, and at unconfined prices. The whinge throne is literally a portion of a whole cow’s head, stewed until the meat from the cheeks and jaw is meltingly tender, and served up like a stew on fresh corn tortillas. Pairs very well with a Tamarind Jarritos soda, pulled straight from a giant cooler, in a dusty parking lot decorated with x-rated cars.
Go see Dane
This is a municipality – over a million people total – but it feels like a small town. The riding scene here is humming, with road, gravel and MTB trails everywhere you turn, and everyone I talked to was proud to big up their city. Local suspension wizard and velocipede shop owner Dane invites me over to his new Guru Bikes store for a chat, produces a charged light, and insists I join him and his buddies for an wondrous couple of hours night-riding on the trails at Sweetwater Preserve, well-constructed with the brightest night sky I’ve overly seen within municipality limits and a fat full moon to well-constructed the backdrop. Thanks, Dane.
Never say no to an uplift
Mt. Lemmon towers whilom the north-eastern whet of Tucson. You can, if you want, reach its legendary Bug Springs and Prison Camp downhill trails by riding nearly nine miles up a steep road climb, or riding all the way virtually to the when and tackling a gruelling gravel climb. I, however, am delighted to be given a shuttle ride up by Eric and Matt from Homegrown MTB, surpassing plummeting right when lanugo the local downhill classic, ‘Bug Springs’ trail. It’s nearly 8k of technical, challenging singletrack, with huge rocks, sharp turns, deep chutes and some stunning views over the city. We well-constructed one of the most heady days I’ve overly had on a velocipede by doing Prison Camp, flipside trail slightly remoter lanugo the mountain, which is faster and less technical but no less fun, finishing up with beers, fries and salsa at the bottom. All less than 30 minutes momentum from my nice hotel, bars,restaurants, and other good municipality stuff.
Roadies make mistakes too
We’re approached by a couple of hyper fit-looking road riders at our van stop on Mt. Lemmon, who both turn out to be local pro riders. Despite their pristine matching pro kit and remarkably well-maintained bikes, they have underestimated how much water they’ll need, and gratefully winnow a top-up from our van stash surpassing heading off to alimony climbing. Stay unobtrusive folks, it’ll do you good in the long run.
Granite is interesting
In the UK, I sometimes ride over rocks. Or off them. Very occasionally, they’re big unbearable for me to ride lanugo them. But they’re nothing compared to the slabs of the ‘50 Year’ trail in Tucson. These house-high granite monsters are a total lung-buster to climb – the grip is so wool that, despite them stuff steep unbearable to warrant ropes and belays, you can turn one agonising pedal stroke at a time and kind of trickle up. Madness. Then there’s the adrenaline-bath of riding down. It feels like riding off a cliff, but with unbearable front restriction and steadiness of nerve, you can hold off the plummet until the last second, measuring every inch, until you turn when and laugh in misdoubt at what you just did. So. Much. Fun.
Keep your pedals level
It unchangingly happens when you least expect it. A moment’s inattention to the trail while yearning the vastness of the Southwestern landscape, and I’m suddenly and firmly mashed into the ground, taking a layer of skin off my palm and narrowly lamister multiple impalements from the leaves of a prickly pear bush. My pedal clipped a rock, is all, but it’s unbearable to warrant some trailside triage from Matt, who binds the graze with unbearable tape to prevent it stuff dislodged by the rest of the day’s riding. All of this could have been prevented if I’d just worn my gloves, which I mistakenly unsupportable were when in my hotel room, but turned out to be in my walkabout all along. Prepare in haste, transude at leisure.
Do not mention your wedding to my photographer
Pro MTB snapper Corie, like most people in the mountain velocipede business, needs flipside job on top to make ends meet – you can’t live on self-ruling Clif bars forever. In Corie’s case, that’s wedding and elopement photography in the stunning landscapes of her home in Utah, or occasionally beyond. When a pair of riders we meet happen to mention they’re engaged, the rest of us have to stand virtually for 15 minutes while she enthusiastically pitches her (admittedly formidable) skills to the happy couple, who perhaps weren’t expecting it. We wish them all the best.
You can put tortilla fries in scrambled eggs
We don’t eat a bad mouthful for the unshortened trip, but special mention has to go to the Chaquiles Tradicional from Seis Kitchen. Three scrambled eggs, with a huge portion of tortilla fries folded into them, served with a trencher of refried beans topped with queso cheese, and served with unbearable fried potatoes to stun an elephant. All happily washed lanugo with a pint of iced coffee, flavoured with cinnamon. If you ate this and didn’t then go on a five-hour mountain velocipede ride, you’d be in serious calorific trouble.
Three days is never enough
I only got to spend half a week in Tucson, and sample some of the greatest hits, but there’s so much increasingly to ride, and eat, and talk well-nigh over beers with the righteously friendly locals. And it’s only a 90 min momentum from Phoenix airport. So if you like your venture cycling with a substantial helping of unique culture, spanking-new supplies and extremely hostile plant life, make your way to Tucson as soon as you can. I’ll be when myself the first endangerment I get.
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Follow Tim here:
Instagram- @timnwild
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