Mt. Lemmon trip

Well there was some great and some not so great doings on the Aztriclub trip to ride Mt. Lemmon. We got out of Phoenix on time but due to a rare early morning rain storm our drive time was significantly longer.

We decided before riding that we'd go to Tri Sport's headquarters and see what they claim is the largest tri store in the world. We were all very unimpressed and quite frankly severely disappointed. Perhaps they are a force online but Tribe Multisport in Scottsdale, my store, is infinitely more impressive is size, vibe and personnel.

Due to time constraints we decided to start two miles up the mountain and ride two hours; each turning around where we were at when 4:30 struck, catching the rest on the next morning. Let me just say that I turned around at 1 hour completely knackered. Perhaps it was the 10 mile run the day before, or already being up 12 hours and driving for six, or maybe I was just not far enough into base training to attempt such a climb at altitude so soon. I got to the point where my rpms for 5 minutes were below 35 and another two minutes below 30. I was sort of just waiting to fall over. While I felt fine for the most part, my legs were simply lead. Whatever the reason its never fun to be the only person to turn back in the group.

Everyone else did really well.

When we got back to the camp, I tried to start the fire with the most rudimentary tools possible. Starting off with dry tinder, some moss and my Light My Fire firesteel. I didn't count on five very hungry and tired triathletes clambering for fire and food and to start flicking matches into my fire pile. Their 3 minute timeline, got counted as far as Jeff and Andy could reach for packets of match sticks. I ended up using my lighter but the prep work was spectacular and given a few more minutes feel pretty confident I would have got it going.
I did get some photo's of my sleep set up, the hammock and tarp. Good set up, I was very warm the entire time and pretty comfortable all things considered. The main detraction is that I am a side sleeper and being forced onto my back without the ability to move my legs and body kept my sleep level at the most minimum. Add to that my already stunted sleep pattern in unfamiliar places, so although my eyes were closed and I know I slept it was not recuperative in the least and heard almost every snore and carried voice in the area all night long.

I have this meditative trick of counting backwards from 100 to clear my mind. I start over each time I go from counting down numbers to a thought that pops in. I must have restarted forty times, reaching zero perhaps twice.

Waking up the next morning, we were all quite tired. No one really got any good sleep but who said camping was about restful nights sleep. The rest all slept in a decent size family tent but the snoring, uneven surface, the issue of moving over men to got take a leak outside and just being outside to sleep at all, caused a lack of rest that night.

We decide that instead of unpacking the bikes we would go into town get a good meal and head home.

We all had a great time. The evening spent around the campfire drinking beer and hearing new stories and repeating old. Teasing and pushing buttons in the way chums do. While I thought selfishly and sheepishly that I would be derided for turning around, I don't think it even came up except for my own self-deprecation. If that is because my team mates know that I have been busting my ass training for three straight weeks or because they know that even good people have bad days, or whatever, deep down I was thankful they respected my failure to complete the ride.

To use my new favorite term, That'll Happen.