Patagonia-Canelo Ride

Most of our trail runs go through public lands that don’t allow mountain biking, like Saguaro National Park or Santa Catalina Wilderness.  Besides, most of those routes are too rugged for a mountain bike, at least if you have any sense of self-preservation.  But this route is one of the ones where mountain bikes are allowed and you won’t die trying (probably).

Wayne Coates first devised this as an out-and back training run for a few friends.  Then he proposed directing it as a Tucson Trail Run series event, open to both runners and mountain bikers.  In 2007 we had 10-15 participants.

When I did this last year on my bike, I felt somewhat life-threatened.  Similar sentiments were expressed by other mountain bikers that day.  This route has some pretty rough, rocky stretches, albeit no mountains to climb.  I was also so exhausted when I reached the turn around that I didn’t seriously consider turning around.  At first I was going to hitch a ride with Patricia, Wayne’s wife, who was handling the aid station.  Then I figured out I could take dirt roads back to the start.  I left Wayne with the strong impression I wouldn’t attempt the ride again.

But time passes and memory fades.  More important, my oldest son Gabe’s mountain bike came back to live with me.  My own bike is what’s called a “cross-country” model.  It has full-suspension (front and rear) with about 3 inches of travel.  Gabe’s bike is an “all mountain” bike with 6 inches of suspension travel.  What that means is that it’s more likely to roll over rough, rocky terrain.  My bike is more likely to get caught, resulting the rider continuing over the handlebars.  The trade-off is that all-mountain bikes are heavier and slower on roads than cross-country bikes.  So gee, go slower on the road and not die.  Seems like a good trade to me.

Here’s a map of my route.  Click on the thumbnail and the full-sized map will open in a new tab or window–

This year, we had 3 runners, one run director, and me.  Wayne got us started.  The first quarter mile is easy for a bike, then it’s about a mile and half of hike-a-bike with occasional riding breaks.  Kim and Celestino disappeared quickly.  Initially, I couldn’t tell that the all-mountain bike made much difference, but some of that was my own timidity.  I kept getting to downhills where I’d say to myself (and I really was talking to myself) “well the bike can probably do this, but I’m a chicken”.  After 2 miles of crossing rugged little ridges, the trail drops into Redrock Canyon.  Then it gets pretty rideable.  I met Kim and Celestino headed back for their brunch at Tree of Life.  Mostly I was riding, with some walking through sand and over rocks.  A bit past the 6 mile point is a striking cliff face on the right.  It’s a multi-colored, multi-formed, predominantly red expanse, presumably the canyon’s namesake.  Wayne encourages people to use this as the 12 mile out-and-back turn around.  The route turns hard left and picks up a jeep road, which it follows for almost 4 miles.  It was along here I encountered Patricia coming my way (a bad sign).  We later figured out there is a confusing part of the route where people can end up going in a circle.  Wayne may have ended up on that, too, when he came out to look for us from the aid station.

I suggested Patricia follow me, since the aid was closer than the start.  If I got ahead much, I would make arrows and marks.  We quickly came to the place where she had turned right when she should have turned left.  I think some folks did this in 2007, too.  I pulled ahead on the roady part, but drew a few arrows.  I reached the dam where I had gotten a couple of hundred yards off in 2007 before I decided to go back and cross the dam.  From there, you climb out of the canyon (translation: push the stupid bike) up to an upland with some dirt roads and a trail that leads up to a pass.  I met Wayne on the climb, wondering what had happened to us.  On the dirt road up top, I encountered Doug, a horseman headed the other way.  By now I had decided the all-mountain bike was indeed rolling over terrain better than my own bike.  Not dying was good.

I actually had fun with the last mile or so of trail.  This climbed into the montaine, foresty part of the route.  I got to zing down to the parking lot at the trailhead.  I parked my bike against the Arizona Trail sign, and Wayne appeared soon, with Patricia close behind.  We settled down for a few refreshments, then they headed home while I finished the loop.  While I felt better than in 2007, I was still tired.  I didn’t think it would be smart to return on a trail by myself when everyone else had gone home.

The road climbs to Canelo Hills Pass, then drops into a huge valley ringed by mountains.  It’s a grassy expanse with few trees, mostly close to or above 5000 feet elevation.  As I swung south, then west, I crossed a wash labeled “Santa Cruz River” heading south.  This valley is the headwaters of the Santa Cruz before it enters Mexico and turns north toward Tucson.  The all-mountain bike was most definitely slower than my bike on the road, but mostly that was the matter of the relentless head wind.  After seeing one truck just as I started out on the road, I don’t think I saw another human or vehicle for over 15 miles.  I did see a lot of cows, who usually stared at me for awhile, then left.  After descending into the valley and crossing it, I got to climb out on the west side into the head wind.

Then the fun part of the road happens.  There’s a fast drop into the canyon system that becomes Harshaw Canyon.  I let it get to 26.  Then it’s mostly downhill or flat along the canyon floor.  I think I saw a vehicle or two near Patagonia, but I never saw an actual human being until I reached the trailhead.  There Dale (Doug’s dad) was parked with a horse trailer.  We chatted, I packed up my bike, and headed home.

It was a good day.  I appreciated Wayne and Patricia putting on the event.  My GPS claimed that the AZ trail section was 13.8 miles.  You’ll see the Terrain Navigator software thinks the entire route was just under 32 miles, but the way GPSes work, both the GPS and the software would estimate longer distances on the trail where I was moving slower (Might have to do a page about that…).