The Doctor Will See You Now

Short Version:
Right-wing agitators take us on a crime spree in and around Sedona

Long Version:
We were tetchy about the prospect of riding Sedona again after the over-populated underfunned first attempt, but we'd handed over actual moneys for a trail map, and there's snow in Northern California, so we figured we'd just grin and bear it for another day or two before hightailing it to Vegas and Boulder City for some luxury and some hardcore riding respectively. We certainly didn't expect to spend two days and nights riding the unmapped illegal Sedona trail network - hell, we didn't even know it existed!

We'd met Darch (Hi Darch!) at Gooseberry Mesa, and hooked up again when we arrived back in Sedona from Black Canyon. He'd been riding with the Doctor* and his crew for a couple of days, and they took us with them when they set off for Monday's ride, along with one of the other sets of Canadians we'd met at Gooseberry, Bruce and Ardelle, who we spied riding up the road we were being driven up in a truck. We'd finally managed to source brake pads for Nene, which was just as well given the ride: the aptly-named, mildly scary Hangover. When we'd mentioned the name to the guys at the bike shop** they'd said it was a) illegal and b) not very good. Turns out they were half-right: the Forest Service went so far as to send a crew of volunteers armed with wire-brushes to eradicate the painted bear-paw tracks that had been used to mark the trail. Now riders follow the wire-brush marks. We followed the Doctor up to a saddle, from where the trail drops down and across a rock face and into a narrow gap between wall and trees. Nene rode it with aplomb. I fell off and skinned my elbow. That was to be the pattern for us for the next two days.

Hangover is named for the series of rock overhangs beneath which the trail passes. The fear factor of the trail proper comes from the sheer drop on the downslope side of the trail, and the very real possibility of being shunted off by one's spare tyre or backpack whilst attempting to sneak by. We both survived, with some walkage, and then set off with a reduced group to ride some more of the awesomeness that is the semi- and illegal trail network which threads in and out of the legitimised, mapped system. We know where we went, in a general sort of way, but we'll probably not be leading any guided rides any time soon; there are more non-legit trails than there are mapped ones, they're not signposted, and some of them don't even have bike tyre marks: we carried our bikes on our shoulders in past visible range before remounting and setting off again. Once again, Nene rode incredibly; the only dismount she did was forced by me jumping off in front of her and blocking the trail. I wasn't quite so flash, to the extent that not only did I manage a pinch-flat from riding too fast and with not enough skill, but I didn't even fix it myself; I'd been chasing the incredibly fast, incredibly smooth-riding Canadian Renfrew* down the short downhill section of Baldwin that we hit when I flatted. By the time I had the bike upside-down and the wheel off, he had ridden back up, and before I quite knew what was going on he'd pulled the dead tube without using tyre-levers to get the tyre off, partially-inflated the new tube using his lungs, placed the new tube and re-seated the tyre, and inflated it using a compressed air canister he'd produced from somewhere. He handed the wheel back to me within a couple of minutes of the flat occurring, and I was so discombobulated that I said I was discombobulated, and then I had trouble putting my wheel back on. Impressive bastardo.

Back at the homestead, we took Baxter* up on her offer of showers, and it felt so incredibly good to be clean that we were near dancing on the table. In the interest of not getting kicked out of the house before we got a chance to eat delicious foods and talk with interesting peoples, we refrained.








* = Names have been changed to protect the incredibly guilty

** = Yes, that's the same guys at the bike shop that sent us off on Bell Rock and Templeton on a holiday(ish) weekend.