Over the last couple of years I decided I'd like do some
bikepacking. I read blogs and forums posts, reviewed gear lists and photographs and started collecting the necessary gear.
I had seen
the Salty Gila Tour route posted last year but wasn't ready to tackle it at that time. When I saw that it was happening again, I knew I wanted to give it a try. It was close home and would allow plenty of places to bail if things went wrong. Two-hundred miles of dirt roads, mountain bike trails and pavement over three days. What could go wrong?
In preparation for this trip, I replaced my worn-out tires and brake pads, and got the bike tuned up. I had my bags packed with plenty of food and water. I was ready to go.
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| Loaded up and ready to go. |
On Friday morning, I rode over to meet
John and Larry, the other two adventurers. Right as I was pulling up, I shifted into the small ring and my rear tire started rubbing on the
front derailleur. There was no way I was riding two hundred miles in the big ring. I said hello, explained my tire situation and said I would try to catch up. I went back home to put my old tire back on.
Now would be a good time to explain that I replaced my tires because the old rear tire had a slice in the sidewall that I
repaired by sewing with dental floss and supergluing. With no other options at seven in the morning, I installed the tire. It went on without complaint.
With the old tire of questionable durability installed, I headed out. I knew I could shave off a mile or two from the route by following the road instead of the canal, so I took the shortcut. I kept a decent pace in my attempt to catch up. After forty-five minutes of not seeing them, I stopped to check the
SPOT tracker page on my phone. Somehow, I was ahead of them! I backed off my pace and stopped at a grocery store to get a sandwich.
I continued riding and soon hit the TRW trail. Finally, some singletrack.
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Singletrack.
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| Red Mountain in the distance. |
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| Living free and in the wild. |
I reached the Power Road trailhead and decided to wait. Less than five minutes later, they arrived.
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| John leading the way. |
We headed onto the
Hawes trail system and started moving. Pretty soon, I found myself off the bike and in the dirt. While I was brushing the sand out of my ears, Larry pointed at my bike and a broken derailleur hanger.
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| Dangling derailleur. |
My options at this point were limited. I could try to shorten the chain and make it a single-speed, or walk out and get a ride home. Since I was only twenty miles in, I decided called it quits and get picked up at the trailhead.
I had to borrow Larry's chain tool to take off the chain, since my brand tool was neatly hung on the pegboard at home. After making sure I was OK to make out, I wished John and Larry good luck as they continued on with the tour.
With my chain removed, I had to push the bike uphill, but at least I could at least ride the downhills. I figured it was less than a mile to the road.
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| Salt River in the distance. |
Somehow I took the wrong turn and it was more like three. At least it was on a familiar trail. Near the end, I dropped my GPS. After a short back-track, I found it. I continued on and made my way to the Walgreen's parking lot to wait for my wife to pick me up.
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| Water in the desert. |
Unfortunately, the ride didn't go as planned, but I still had fun. I'm sure I'll give a go in the future. Oh, I did get some road rash when I crashed.
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| It's only a flesh wound. |
