A Spring Classic ... for the fun of it

Yesterday I joined a great group of local roadies driving to an invitational in Phoenix.  Sixty-five miles and just a tad over 500 feet of climbing.  I've done flatter routes but that was flat. 

In my maturity I've come fully into my miserly ways.  Living in Prescott I cannot imagine doing what I used to do often several times each week in Chicago: driving 100 miles to ride my bike.  And though there are great adventures all over the southwest the sense of `weirdness' overcomes me when I send money to people 100 miles away to give me a map, a water bottle, sign liability waivers.  And then spend 3 figures in gas money to drive for four hours ... to ride my bike. 

!?*@##!!!

And here I live in Prescott!!

So I'm resigned to the `loneliness' of the hard core ultra cyclist.  That is, poorly paraphrasing Eddie Merckx, when asked how he came to be so dominating a cyclist, he responded: "Ride a lot."

I'm making up routes and courses that are low traffic volume, good road, challenging and with the occasional water spiggot every 40 or 50 miles.

Here's one from my front door:

1. Prescott to Bagdad: 67 miles
2. Bagdad to Yarnell: 56 miles
3. Yarnell to Congress: 10 miles
4. Congress to Wilhoit: 29 miles
5. Willhoit back to Prescott: 17 miles.

Total miles: 178
Likely climbing: 12,000 feet

Start half an hour before daybreak to be advantaged by daylight.

No fee. 
No sag. 
Self-support. 
No club affiliation. 
No course `certification' or `sanctioning.' 
YSYD (you're stopped, you're dropped). 
No rando organization. 
No getting your card stamped or signed. 
A complimentary burial on the side of the road for DNF'ers. 
No T-shirt. 
No goofy set of safety pins with a number on some sheet of linen. 
No subsequent internet hounding by profit-mongers wanting to patronize you with "Hilly Hell" mantras. 

Who will know you did it?

You.  Only you.