Dirt Bikin' and Such and Such

So all week St. Germain has been talking about how he's been practicing his "rock solids" into the foam pit. Not to be outdone, I was quick to lay down the gauntlet, as I've been working on some sick tailwhips myself. The task was simple, an all out, no holds barred, every man for himself throwdown on the dirt.

We've been doing some pretty epic rides out here and this one was to be no exception. The plan was simple, leave the house, ride some paceline tempo to madera, climb the base of madera canyon and then the battle would begin. At box canyon road, we were to turn left and commence throwing down whatever we had, in the battle of the century.

The ride started out as planned, but thats about as far as the planning went. On the way out of town, things got a bit wild. After stopping for a pee break in an alley, I decided that if I we're to beat St. Germain in the fight, I was gonna nead a little help. Knowing that Tucson is as shady as it is, help would not be far away. In fact, all I had to do was look down, and I found not only a very large kitchen knife, but an un-used .38 caliber bullet. Now all I needed was a gun, and victory would surely be mine, and failing that I could always use the knife for tire slashing or stabbing.

The pace-lining was good, and it was clear that the pace was on, as each pull to the front was harder than the last. After topping up the bottles at the lone gas station we passed, some more tempo was ridden up madera to the turn. This is where things got really hectic. In final preperations for the thrown down on the dirt, we all checked our gear one last time, let some air out of the tenspeed tires, drank some PBR, put on our NASCAR jackets, smoked some marlboro's and packed big old lippers. It was on like donkey kong from this point on.

Box canyon road is really more of a mountain bike trail, or at best a jeep trail, than an actual road, and it certainly never intented to be used as a speed biking course. With caution thrown to the wind we set out. Masing the big gears in an attempt to glide over the washboard surfaces. Bombs were going off left and right with gaps forming and attacks being launched. St. Germain got the gap first, and despite me closing it down a few times, would eventually switch to a mountain bike, and ride away. I settled for second place and enjoyed the view of the surrounding landscapes as well as the giant cows I almost plowed into. Once off the dirt, St. Germain stowed the rogue mountain bike, grabbed his tenspeed, and took all the glory and accolaids that come along with doing it best in the dirt.

After a snack and some BS'ing about how fast we eash rode certain sections of the dirt, and how many of the turns were taken "mo-tard" style, we set off for home, which turned out to be about 30 miles further than anticipated. No harm done though, we got there. It was rad. Remember that nintendo game with the dirt bikes, excite bike, where you made your own courses, the day was like that, but with cows.

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