Cycling Mountain Roads

First rule: Control
Second rule: Control.

Out here there is a 12.2 mile continuous descent (4% - 10%) from the top of the Prescott National Forest to Skull Valley, AZ.  Iron Springs Road.  Fortunately this road is very straight with slight bends that are well seen at a distance.

The spring winds make this stretch of road treacherous.  Forty mph crosswinds on a cyclist doing 48 mph will put you down fast, leaving not much more than an ugly smear on the road.

East of this descent, and on the other side of the Bradshaw Mountains, is something a mite more complicated but equally threatening.  The White Spars.  AZ 89.  Part of the RAAM route.

From the north (mile post 310) going south on 89 there is a 5 mile 4.5% climb to 6,100 ft elevation.  Then there is a 7 mile series of steep ascents, steep descents and 40 - 190 degree blind curves and switchbacks.  The cyclist has three options: 1. stay on the road; 2. fly off a cliff; 3. slam into a solid granite rockface.

Finally, starting at mile post 298 there is a continuous 9 mile descent, 3 miles of which involve more steep, blind switchbacks.  The remaining 6 miles is 4% - 7% in open prairie with stiff headwinds and crosswinds at all times of the year.

Motorcyclists flock to the `Spars' in the season.  Some are commuters and it is clear that they are used to the  road and simply getting to or from the job.  Most, however, are utter fools.  Evidence for this is noted by the 2 dozen or so crosses (`road shrines') on either side of the road.  Every year several road shrines come down and are replaced by others, more recent.

Last Saturday I had a mechanical problem (high gear set screw cracked in half - couldn't shift) that required me to `coast' down from mile post 298 to 296 (where there is a saloon, the Burro Inn, and the only cell phone coverage for dozens of miles).  While waiting for the rescue vehicle (my reliable and understanding wife, Anna) I sat on the deck of the saloon.  It was still early (I started riding that morning at 3am) and the owner and his daughter were in the process of getting the saloon ready to open.

Looking like a shrink-wrapped lycra peacock I sort'a wanted to explain why I was sitting on their deck.  We struck up a really nice conversation (he's `Ray' and she's `Holly').

The topic of motorcycles, road shrines and motorcyclists with a death wish came up.  Lots to talk about of course.

Five years ago a motorcyclist with more horsepower than brains was screaming around a 20 mph left hand blind switchback at 40+ mph.  He was `in his lane' hugging the yellow double line.  Coming the opposite direction was a mom and her 9 year old daughter on the way to the dentist in Prescott.  Mom was `in her lane' just a few inches from the double yellow line.

Physics.  The motorcyclist's head was `over' the double yellow line.  His wheels were `within' the double yellow line.

He was decapitated.  (I guess there is a reason they call it a `brain bucket').

One of the more interesting fatalities on the Spars.