I got through today, it wasn’t easy but I kept it together. Last night as I was trying to go to sleep, the idea of getting through today seemed impossible.

I had just turned out the lights and was about to read a book to Lillian, when I saw headlights in the driveway and a headlamp headed to the side door. Not the usual for our house and I greeted Officer Beda at the door. He asked if I was the son of Kathleen Branham of Brighton Colorado? I said I was, and he told me that my mother was found dead on her couch. Standing right there, 9:PM, in the cold ass Gunnison air, in my boxers. I was in shock, I got the numbers for the coroner, thanked the officer for doing such a hard job and I walked back inside to tell Rachel.

I got a hold of the coroner and began the process of getting my info and as much as I knew about my mom, and her last few days. In the midst of getting the details I broke down and had to leave the room. I will never be the same again.

In the midst of opening the Dilly Deli and trying to rebound from a winter of only working, I really neglected to check in on Kay. I was so wound up, spun out, and exhausted, I just didn’t feel like I had the band width to do anything else. I sent her videos of Lillian and little texts about missing her, but I didn’t call or make the trip.

I wish I could have been a better son…

I got through today, but I am somewhat disappointed that once again, I have rallied for the sake of work. I forgot to return to humanity and went to work and pretended it was all just fine. What is gone wrong with me that work is so fucking important, that doing a good job is more important than feeling. Stifling emotion for the sake of normalcy. What reality have I created for myself?

After we closed and locked the doors to the deli, I was no longer able to hold back all the emotions, the doubt, and guilt. It is so incredibly painful to know I won’t get to talk to my mom again, never, not once. We won’t sit rocking on her old farmhouse porch, drinking beers and talking for a whole day. She won’t be there with bacon and ice cream to pick me up after the CTR. My number one fan is gone. What a door to have closed in your face!

Last August we Gunnison Branham’s went to visit my mom and spend some time hanging out. It was a fun visit. Lillian and Kay had a great time and really got to connect, it was so wonderful to be there to witness. Overall we had a good time, but after learning my mom had fallen and hurt her shoulder, and did nothing but deal with it. I began to see that my mom was getting older, not just age but seeing the hardships and tasks one can’t quite do sore, tired, and alone. My mom was too stubborn to ask for much help and would just suffer whatever it was. After our visit, I had this thought to ask my mom to move to Gunnison so we could be there for her. I don’t think she would have gone for the idea, but I never got around to asking, I never even asked her. I didn’t want my mom to be alone, but I didn’t get around to doing anything cause I really didn’t believe she was going anywhere.

I assumed we had more time. I always thought there would be another opportunity, another time, another year.

The aching sadness that is eating me is gut wrenching, I am finding it hard to breath over and over, all day long I keep gasping for air. It is incredible pain. So harsh it makes you think differently, see other perspectives. I see so much of the stubborn, self-suffering, do it alone attitude my mom seems to have, in myself. I am guilty of going it alone and stoically not asking for any help, I see now so much of that is both me and my mom. The in-ability to tolerate others makes one feel very lonely, but better alone.

!My mom’s and I relationship hasn’t always been perfect. There was a big chunk of my adolescents were I didn’t see her much at all. It wasn’t till I moved out to Colorado when I was 19, that we started to have a relationship again. But we did, it was awkward at times but we learned to talk, we learned about and loved each other. We created an adult relationship out of the ashes of a not so perfect start. After got over my anxiety, it was very relaxing to hang out with my mom as an adult, it gave me so much confidence to be myself!

When I started backpacking my mom was a supporter. When I started endurance racing my mom was a supporter. There late in my life, Kay rose up and supported me when it didn’t seem like anyone else understood what I was doing with myself and many told me so. I was searching for something to test me and everyone else thought I was wasting my time and energy. Meanwhile my mom was there, routing for me, supporting me, telling me I was amazing, that I was a super hero. When I started getting more and more into the endurance stuff my mom was so into it. Rides to the starts of races, pocket cash for the race, sending me newspaper clippings about my results, being there when I sucked and was so disappointed. It felt amazing to have such a support crew.

When Rachel came into my life, it seems like my mom took a back seat. Think my mom took a step back in my life and never really stepped back up, maybe she thought her job was finally done. I was so busy trying to be me and a good man friend, that I didn’t revisit the change in our relationship. Then Lillian happened, I really thought once there was a granddaughter, my mom would be back to engaged. Yet once there was a child, there was even less time and energy on my part, and we let things drift and the last few years I have spent little time with my mom. I was hoping the visit in august would help boost things, and while it was obvious that Kay loved Lillian so much, Kay wasn’t coming out of her shell.

I am crushed, I miss my mom so much, there really isn’t words for this. I wish I could talk to her or hold her hand. I wish so much that I could have been there for her at the end, it hurts me so much to think of her suffering alone, god I wish I could of held her hand. Instead here we are in an imperfect circle wishing for things to be round. I want her to know I forgive everything, that I love and respect her for the life she lived.

Kay I love you so much and thank you so much for being my mother, my biggest fan and my favorite person to drink beer with. Hope somewhere all the dogs and cats you loved get to give you kisses!!!

I woke up early this morning, and for the first time in months I didn’t feel the vacuum of exhaustion open its jaws to swallow up my tired being. I felt like I might have the energy to get up before it was necessary to, like I could maybe get up and do something! It has been a long journey to get where I am now, so much has happened, so much time since this space got any fresh updates so here we go.

I think about how I used to have so much time. So much that I would spend hours doing not much of anything, drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes, doodling, hanging out, but I also read many books and wrote a little. This was a long time ago, back when I wasn’t all that inspired to do much with myself, still looking for what it was I wanted pursue.

Once the whole endurance thing came into my life I was not so chill, I was either working, sleeping, or out doing something with my body. I was now consuming my time and often burning the candle at both ends trying to do it all. I worked two jobs, slept little, ate tremendous amounts of food, drank a ton of coffee, and was always trying to be moving. It was a exhaustively active time of my life, I would often work right up to events, race without sleep, and get right back to work. There were times it was really taking a lot out of me, but it also felt amazing to be so dedicated to my passion.

Ten years ago life really started to change again. About a month after my 2014 Tour Divide run, while I was still sore, tired and burnt out, Rachel randomly popped up in Gunny on a road trip. Well things clicked and next thing ya know we moved in together! We lived a semi-dirt bag lifestyle for a few years, riding bikes, working, camping, playing with dogs, and then we made a Lillian! Time really accelerated over the next 8 months as we got our shit together and scraped, begged, and borrowed enough to buy a house all while Rachel was pregnant and I was working all the time. We started moving in and Lillian was born three days later. It was such a blur.

I feel like I have been trying to catch up since. I have learned that taking care of a 140 year old house and a family is enough to keep me busy, but I keep trying to squeeze a bit more. I managed to do a few races from 2019 on, but it is a lot harder to be prepared with how much energy I have left at the end of most days. After the 2022 Arizona Trail Race kicked my butt, I realized I still have the skills, and I can still dig deep, but without adequate time on the bike, it is so much harder. This has been a very hard thing for me, I miss riding my bike, I miss feeling like an athlete.

In September the Firebrand announced they were going to close their doors for good, this was a surprise to all. After 28 years it was time. Rachel immediately started asking me if we should take over their lease. I immediately started saying no way! My wife is quite persuasive and somehow I started saying yes. We took the keys to the place January 1st and have been working on it since. Demos, floors, a lunch counter, baseboards, lots of paint, a new stove and grill, so much cleaning and organizing. The menu, recipes, cooking, systems, ordering, storing. We have even hired and trained people!

After so many, many long days of work, we opened the Dilly Deli 3/14/24. That first day we got worked, but we learned a lot, we continue to learn and implement. It is going quite well really, we have only 7 days of operation under us, but have the making of the food more or less figured out. It is a matter of getting better at training and scheduling employees so we don’t have to be there all day.

Today is my fourth day off since mid January, I spent all of yesterday sleeping or helping with Lillian’s 5th birthday party! It was fun, but I am so tired from the work week that I need extra rest. That funny time again, where is it? I am hoping to find some in the near future to return to feeling like a human again, I am much happier and healthier when I am.

Made it to the 2023 CTR start line a few days ago and as anyone whose signed up for a big effort can attest, getting to the start line is half the battle. The preparation process is a bit more complicated for me cause, I am also organizing, answering questions, putting out little fires, etc. Amazingly after lots of deep breaths and emails we were off and rolling towards Denver.

The start of the CT out of Durango is a beast. So much climbing right from the get go and with my mediocre level of fitness, it was difficult to keep a fast pace as my legs were filling up with crampies. I forced myself to stay in a zone my body could sort of handle, that meant letting go of expectations and ego driven needs. As someone who has been ultra competitive in this race, it was a big shift that allowed me to relax and let go of that side of racing. Instead I really enjoyed the company of my fellow racers, I smiled a lot out there once I found this happy place of being competitive but just rolling with what comes.

After a long day of pushing out of Durango, dodging a few rain drops, laughing with my fellow racers, passing through a sweet sunset, and riding some amazing trail, I rolled through Silverton and started climbing the massive Stony Pass. I stopped at 12:30am, about 2/3rds the way up for an hour and 35 minute nap, got up and busted it over the pass and into segment 23, Cataract Ridge. Steep, tight, twisty single track winding through the San Juans at 12,000-13,000′. Traversing this is exhausting work, but this might be the most amazing section of the CT. Got to watch an glorious, sky glowing sunrise while nippling on cookies, feeling like everything was alright!

Then coming off of West Lost Creek Pass after Cataract Lake, I tried to ride a funky rock line over stream crossing, lost my front tire and splatted myself into some rocks. I hit the rocks and felt something snap in my left wrist and a surge of intense pain shot through that hand. I also managed to punch the ground with my right hand and now my middle finger knuckle is swelling up and not bending. In a typical post crash move, I hoped right back on my bike as if nothing happened. I made it 4 feet before my hand sent out waves of pain that sent me into shock. I could feel my legs turning to wood, my heart was racing, it was difficult to breath, the mountains started spinning and going dark. I barely was able to controllably sit down. I sat taking deep breaths, deep breaths, and once the shock faded I pondered my situation.

Now I had problem. I had about 5 miles of trail to get to Wager Gulch, then it was either keep going up Coney’s, or bail off course down Wager. Should I stay or should I go? I hiked my bike gingerly towards Wager, I tried a few times to ride, but no matter how or where I gripped the bars it was excruciating to ride. Reality was sinking in, I can’t ride anymore?! Tears bursted out as I realized this was probably the end of my ride. I sat at the top of Carson Saddle and ate more cookies, I stared at that climb up to Coney’s. I tested my hand again, maybe it just needed a rest? Even on a smoother road surface I couldn’t hold on with my left hand, and my right middle finger made my right grip not great. I could barely hold onto my bike and I was still at 11,000′ up a steep rocky dirt road. WTF am I gonna do?

After making myself crazy thinking about my situation I forced myself to start the walk down Wager Gulch. I felt like I was letting everyone down bailing from the course, I wanted to be sharing the suffering with my CTR peeps! It is truly hard to just stop while having an experience like the CTR. The mindset it takes to race the CT is quite a shift away from normal life, and you don’t just shut it down and walk away. Quitting was making my stomach turn, but I knew it was time for action, even if I didn’t like it. So down I walked for hours, that steep rocky jeep road making me wince the whole way. I finally made it to the bottom where there is a good gravel road that I could sort of ride with one hand and I made my way to a friends house. I fell asleep the shade and dreamed of the CT.

I am now home, I have eaten my fill, showered and got some X-rays. Looks like a possible scaphoid fracture, but they aren’t 100% sure as there are some old fractures showing up on the images. Ortho appointment tomorrow to get it sorted and start the healing. Last night was rough, my hand was throbbing like mad. I couldn’t really sleep, even tho I was exhausted from the past few days. Now I am still reeling, the switch from being immersed in the CTR mindset to sitting around unable to do much, feels very unsatisfying. Leaving such a powerful experience feels empty and weird and despite my very unhappy hands I really wish I was out there living it.

Even though it was on the calendar, racing the CTR this year wasn’t looking that reasonable of a possibility. Life is busy, busy and I don’t get a ton of rest just doing the normal everyday routine, so adding in training for an ultra is asking a lot of myself and my family. I have been pulling off some decent results coming from similar place of half fitness, for a few years, but it is hard. It hurts more putting in those huge days of so much climbing and hiking with a loaded bike, without the body being conditioned for it. The recovery takes longer too, I am a mess for a while after these big rides. The CTR is especially tricky as I also have a lot of tasks as RD to attend to as well.

Still I found myself thinking about some of the big, gnarly climbs on the CTR course and wanting to feel the burn of being out there working so hard. Picturing in detail the big one out of Junction creek right off the bat, the wall of Stoney Pass, the endless rolls of Cataract and Coney’s, the seemingly evil of the Cochetopa Hills, the Achilles straining hike and brake burning bounce up and over 10 Mile. I was not flinching as I daydreamed about some of the monsters of the CT, it was time again to run my version of the “P”.

I got 5 weeks to polish up what ever fitness I have and get my gear checked over and then trimmed down. I have the support of my family, so I hope to carve out a few more hours a week to do all the things. Hats off to all the folks jumping into these events from a busy life full of work, family, etc. Getting to the start line is not an easy feat in itself, but to have all the prep done, the fitness as good as can be and still have the energy to try and race 530 miles of the CT is something else. So hope to be in Durango in about 5 weeks with my bike loaded ready for another great adventure.

Headed back to the old Grand Loop in a few days, 360 self supported miles through Western Colorado and Eastern Utah. Route almost killed me in 2006, it was my first bikepacking race and it was so hot, there was no GPS track and I carried 100% of my calories, heavy pack! I got worked out there, it was hard, but I learned so much and fell for this crazy pursuit. Went back with a few folks in 2009 and the route was amazing, I was much better prepared, didn’t get lost that much, and it was cooler and actually a bit wet. I felt so much faster without all the mistakes and was able to appreciate the beauty out there. 2009 was so amazing and yet I still haven’t been back, well I seem to remember that the Grand Loop is also a wicked, mean ass kicker.

Well some crazy soul is bringing the event back, and how could I say no? Well lots of reasons, but the chance to race so close to home on such an iconic route is hard to pass up. I got the bike set, the gear sorted and packed, a good bit of my food is packed and I have done a bit of route study. My stuff is ready to go. The rider may not be as sorted and prepared as my check lists may indicate, more like a check light going off. Life is full of a wild child, a wild dog, a busy wife, and a house and yard. After 4 years I am still amazed at the energy it takes to keep up with all that, most weeks I am so busy with all the things I don’t take the best care of myself. Been trying to do a little less rather than force more, so I have been not riding that much. I still feel such a strong pull to get out there and see what I can do, so ready or not here I come!

Folks can follow along: http://trackleaders.com/grandloop23

One year, 12 months, 365 days sober! Almost can’t believe it. I tried before in the past to give that shit up, this time I really did it. Seems like much longer period of time, and it also feels like just the start. It has been hard, really hard sometimes. I have felt a desire to drown my sorrows, my pain, my discomfort in numbness over the past year. Yet 365 times I chose to be strong and resilient in my path forward. It is challenging to not go “there” when things seem overwhelming, or you just want a god damn break from all that thinking and feeling. That is what would always get me in the past, feeling overwhelmingly sad and just wanting it to stop.

I have gotten better at talking, I stumbled and minced my words much more before. I feel less awkward when having a conversation. Funny thing is I have even less desire to be social, in retrospect going out and going to parties was tolerable cause it was somewhat acceptable to get blasted. I am finding I much prefer interactions with others in a one on one scenario, rather than in a room full of noise and many conversations. I have never been much of an extrovert and now I am hard pressed to see much reason to go out, it is especially weird being one of the only sober folks.

Think I am a better person, also a better parent. I feel in touch with what is happening in my brain and not letting it come out in guiding my child. We all pass on some of our worst bullshit to our kids. Clouding our minds makes this distinction so much harder to make, I can see so much more clearly now than when numb. I am not trying to judge, but holy shit it is easy to bury things and redirect things when you can mask it over in your mind.

So much has come to light being sober, (funny that we have to label the experience of not being under the influence.) There was some heavy foreboding before I made this choice, there was a lot I was not dealing with, not recognizing in myself and my life. In fact I was drinking and smoking to keep those realizations further away from me. There are moments when I have so much regret for not making this change earlier in life, I tried a few times, but never made it stick. Looking back, I feel like much better things could have happened, that I would have made more of some opportunities that I passed up. That energy is in my head and I am using to stay the course and work to make things happen now.

Temptation is everywhere in our world and it was difficult to say no over the past year, I mean I work in a bike shop where folks tip me with beer and we serve alcohol. Everyday we have choices and I have zero regrets in mine. As hard as it continues to be at times, I have less and less desire to numb myself with everyday of going forth on this path. The struggle to be sober is less of a fine line, after a year it feels very normal.

I am not here to brag or preach. It is honestly embarrassing to me that I was such a mess and was wanting to change for so long. I am saying this to support someone who might want to change their own path, You Can Do It! It can be hard, but we are stronger than we think, do not limit yourself to the habits of the past. We can change our ways and still be ourselves. Give yourself a chance, have faith in yourself and what you can do and it gets really does get easier after a while. Find other things to do, read, draw, create, exercise, play music, sing, write. So much good you can let out and almost nothing is actually better when fucked up, I know I used to think and act like it was. I am more creative and have a lot of fun without the drugs and alcohol getting in the way. Also, not having a hangover for a whole year is worth it alone. Stop poisoning yourself to get through the days, go out and live for yourself instead.

Action Jackson, JBuddy, my Sunbeam.

You have only been gone for a for a short time and I miss you so much. Your following eyes watching me as I move about the house, the click clack of your nails on the floor. The last couple months of your life were a challenge, but you were always a bit of work. It was so hard to watch you wither away, losing all that muscle that carried you blazing fast through the sage. Everyday I tried to keep my frustration at cleaning up your urine and poop to myself, as the meds messed up your system as they also gave you some comfort. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye and I was hopeful that you would get strong again.

You came Ito my life almost by accident, I wasn’t looking for a pitbull mix, I wanted another cow dog. They called you a border collie mix, that will always make me laugh. You were in a kill shelter and needed a home pretty badly, so through lots of efforts from lots of people you ended up coming home with me. You were a Pit-Bull-Dozer, strong, aggressive and fast. You caused me lots of heartache and trouble, breaking out of the house and ending up in doggy jail, I had to save your life again begging the judge to let me take you home. You got skunked, quilled by porcupines, and disappeared on walks all the time. You required a lot of attention and alert eyes to keep you out of trouble.

I will always remember that look in your eyes the first time I let you off the leash to run. It was pure joy. I could hear every part of you singing with happiness as you ran, sniffed and, explored. It was wonderful to behold and you were always that happy when we were out walking. We shared that love of just being out there moving through the landscape, I miss it so much. We were wild and free and happy just hiking through the sage.

I hope I gave you the life you deserved and all the love you needed. I will always hold a place in my heart for you and I will forever remember your happy running face, your satisfied body in a sunbeam, and the gregarious way you lived.

It has been 9 months of sobriety for me, the hardest stuff I do these days is a little too much strong black coffee. For the most part living clean and staying straight headed has been great. I don’t miss how alcohol or THC made me feel, never having the spins or a hangover is pretty amazing. It was a shift my mind and body were yearning for many years, and I am glad I made the change. While I feel like I am not going back, it is hard, somedays it is very hard.

Being a parent is another path I am happy to be on, I love being a dada and spending lots of time with my daughter. It is truly amazing being there as someone that was once a baby becomes a full fledged human, learning, exploring, creating, laughing, crying, screaming and all those things we do. She is an incredible person already and I am so lucky to get to be with her as she grows. Parenting is the best and the hardest job all at the same time.

It has been quite a challenge to parent and stay sober. I don’t think it is only my experience. For me, in order to stay successfully sober I need to fill the void left behind from not numbing yourself with something else, something that actually fills that place and makes you feel good. For me that something has always been exercise, especially riding. When you are a parent you can’t just slip to the door and go hammer the pedals till you feel good, but you could pour yourself a drink or sneak outside for a smoke…. So often you only get 2-30 minute windows to do something that isn’t a playing a game, making food, cleaning something up, or wiping a butt. Just enough time to numb yourself, but not enough to do much else except look at insta or ponder what you have done to your life.

These are the choices I have made and while some of my naive expectations didn’t come true, I am sticking to them. Cause life is better sober, and I am so proud of the daughter I am helping to raise. I write these words to clear the air in my head and to maybe warn those thinking about children, you think it will be like this or you will be like that, it isn’t easy or cut and dry. There are times when you regret it (and cry inside feeling this) and times you can’t imagine doing anything else, often in the same afternoon. More often you will spend more time washing dishes than pursuing your own interests, it isn’t all bad, but some days it is easier to swallow the others.

Things have been feeling pretty heavy lately.
I put a lot of pressure on myself in my run up to the AZT800 and the aftermath of that experience left me wondering a lot about my life choices. When you spend so many years pursuing a passion it can feel like a failure when the result isn’t what you hope for. I have learned a lot about myself and my mindset through this chunk of experiences. Perspective change is a wonderful thing.
I learned about a week ago that an old friend that I have known for 20+ years took their own life. It has been so hard to digest all the thoughts and feelings this brought up. Although we were never close, I have felt incredible guilt for not being more present in their life. What if, right? I have also felt so much sadness and darkness pondering the suffering it takes to take that action. While we weren’t besties, I knew that guy, I think we shared much on the inside. I also allowed myself to imagine the relief from all that suffering that mind must have felt leaving that body. Not to condone this path, but who are we to judge if someone is hurting that much!?
On top of that my dog has been declining lately. He was such a strong, happy and super athletic boy not that long ago. He has lost so much weight and looks so sad and depressed it is hard for my heart to handle the disparity between now and then. We got some palliative care for him and he is on a bunch of meds to ease his pain and brightened those eyes. So far there is some improvement, so very grateful for the caring help of some talented animal folks.
It has been really hard to digest all this. We can not live without loss, but it sure does hurt. I went for a little bike ride with Rach today. It was a nice ride, we had smiles on our faces, we joked and laughed, it felt great to pedal the trails. Riding bikes is simple, but so lovely. I feel very lucky to have found something that I feel so passionately drawn to. Despite the rough spots I can’t wait for more.
I am incredibly grateful for my little family, my wife and daughter have become such a big part of my life and my desire to be a better human. I love them so much. I am also grateful for the wonderful communities I get to be a part and the support of good friends in my town of Gunnison and in the rad world of bikepacking.

The past month has been full of heartbreak and deep thinking, but also powerful realizations and pure love. With all this I am getting through this heavy shit, for that I am grateful.

I finally stopped putting the Arizona Trail Race 800 on the back burner on October 20th 2022. I let this very intimidating ride slip past me year after year, honestly I was scared and that fear made it easy to keep it from being a priority. I also realized that I am not getting any younger and these hard rides are much more of a serious endeavor for this mind and body to pull off, it was time to shit or get off the pot. So I got clearance from the family, got the time off work, and did the homework. Amazingly I was there at the Mexican border for the group start with 17 others taking on the 800 and 24 more riding the 300. It was a joyous moment starting such a big adventure with this wild bunch of the bikepacking community on a gorgeous sunny Arizona morning.

I was feeling pretty amazing that first day, it felt so good to be doing this and not just thinking, planning, stressing out about it, I was finally here! I even stayed in a happy place as things started to fall off the dream pace I had set out to ride. I had pinned the idea that I was going to set a new record in my head, an idea that turned out to be a bit much to chew. I had ridden the AZT300, basically the first 300 miles of the 800 in the spring of 2021 and it was fast and fun, I had high hopes of being able to get close to those same time splits and keep that going all the way to Utah. The reality on the trail was something else. The trail was incredibly overgrown, something I knew would be the case, but it was far more of a factor than I imagined. The inability to even see the trail in so many places, combined with some GPS issues I was having made for lots of missed turns and that made for lots of frustration.

Because of this I didn’t sleep the first night, I wanted to catch up on those time splits so bad. I knew I wasn’t being smart making that choice, this ride was too long to blow through the first night without rest. I also didn’t quite catch up to those dream splits, double ugh. I also had a few things that I was forced to take care of that were costing me time. I had crashed on the first day and got a couple gashes on my knees that proved to be difficult to bandage, so I had to stop several times to keeping taping them. My shorts exploded at the seams and I had to ride in long pants, hot, or my underwear, exposed! My GPS was still not optimal and giving me fits. My shoes were shedding rubber from the toes and I was stopping to glue them back together. I was having some digestive issues that were slowing me down and causing me to have to stop a bit too often. It was also HOT and it was kicking my ass trying to keep the train rolling through the heat.

I did keep it going and in reality was doing a good job moving along the course, but in my head I was failing and that was a hard thing to reconcile and recover from. I slept the second night just after Oracle Ridge, but only for a couple hours, those damn splits haunting my dreams. I pushed pretty hard that third day from Tiger Mine to the Gila, an amazing section of trail through a huge chunk of the Sonoran Desert. It was a hot day, I was still dealing with all the things, but I was managing it pretty well and making good time. I love this section and it felt good to be cruising out there. I hit the Gila River after about 2.5 days of riding and pushing, I was worked and took a nap before the big traverse of the river and the huge climb out. It was great to see this section in the light, amazing geography back there that I missed last time riding it all in the dark.

I passed through Picketpost the end of the AZT300, crazy that I was the second finisher of the 300 as it felt like the slowest ride in my head. I pushed on to get to more food and water at Queen Valley, and then on to Apache Junction for a full resupply. The route seemed so long and so much slower from Picktpost to Saguaro Lake, I was realizing I was quite optimistic when plotting out this ride! It was on the Jacob Crosscut Trail outside of Apache Junction with a bike loaded with food and water that I hit the wall. The trail is filled with loose rocks that make pedaling next to impossible, but I kept trying and failing to get anywhere. That seemed to be the MO for the whole section; slow, out of the way trails that seem to go everywhere but where you are trying to go. It was torture for trying to catch up on those damn splits.

I got to Saguaro Lake just after sunrise and looked for the “water spigot”, after riding around the area I found a spigot and filled up and rode on. Later when I took a drink of water I realized the water I took was non-potable and tasted like chemicals, it was disgusting. I kept riding hoping I would find some decent water, somewhere… The Four Peaks section is huge, a gigantic climb through a sparse landscape of little shade, and no water. It was getting hot as I climbed, around every corner the road revealed itself to climb more and more. I was getting desperate, my mouth still tasted the chemicals of the shitty water I filled up on, when I saw a bottle of water in wash. I stopped, walked back and sure enough there was a 12oz bottle of water unopened and intact. A miracle that I cherished and that kept me going and thinking positive, but soon enough I was so thirsty again and the route kept climbing. My eyes were now scanning the edges of the road for another miracle, and there it was, another 12oz bottle, unopened in the ditch half covered with dirt. I almost couldn’t believe my luck, I might just make it.

I did mange to keep climbing the seemingly endless climb, this section is a bit heartbreaking, it never stops going up. When you are out of water and wanting to get somewhere it feels like torture, in fact the decent to Bolder and Sycamore Creek is rough, overgrown and slow. Finally I got to Sycamore Creek and rinsed out my bladder and bottle and filled up, yes back to full capacity! Then I plugged away at getting to Payson, another section that was much slower and more difficult than I ever expected. I got so turned around a few times in my exhausted state, it was so weird to be alone, delirious and confused. I finally stopped and slept, now it was getting quite cold at night and my minimal sleep set up was quite a bit less than adequate leaving me shivering a good bit of the time I was stopped. Still the trail ended and I was to Jakes Corner, the store was closed, but I was solid on food and water and set out for Payson. In my sleep deprived state I missed a big turn off the highway and climbed a long way before I stopped along the busy highway to eat and noticed I was way off the track. I was able to laugh it off and reverse direction back to the route, which is amazing considering how much of a mistake it was, I did feel like such a dumb ass adding so much climbing and time going the wrong way.

I made busy Payson, mailed a few things home, and filled up my food stores and water and set out for the big push along the Hi Line Trail up to the Mogollon Rim. Here again the AZT800 surprised me with how difficult every section seems to be, the 20 miles from Payson to the Hi Line Trail was a huge climb, lots of B roads and intersections and finally the infamous Hi Line. Hi Line is being transformed into a whole new trail and sections of it were actually great, but some old rough and overgrown sections were still there and I was again feeling totally cooked and was having a hard time riding my bike and ended up pushing for miles and miles even after taking a nap. I was so tired and fried, but I just kept stubbornly pushing till I made the top of the Mogollon Rim and a big change in the terrain.

The AZT was now amongst the Ponderosas and the tall grass, the trail was at times fast and flowy and sometimes steep and techy. It was a rollercoaster of feeling great and making good time and then immediately grinding along feeling slow and going no where. So much trail and road was out there, it was so hard and also so beautiful. Once past Mormon Lake the trail is amazing, fast and rideable and so pretty with the oak trees glowing orange, red and pink. Suddenly I was just outside of Flagstaff eating my first sit down meal, refilling my food and water and actually feeling like might be able to finish this crazy ride! I pushed on trying to keep the train a rolling deep into the night, instead just after sunset as the air got really cold I was feeling terrible. My stomach was in knots, my pulse was pounding in my throat so I found a good spot to hunker down and try to stay warm enough to get some rest. I awoke at 12:20AM with an intense need to relieve my bowels, I shuffled up the hill, dug a hole and then pooped for almost 40 minutes. It was disgusting and left me feeling drained, empty inside and wondering what to do next. I considered heading back to Flag, but instead I just packed up and kept going forward on the route.

Luckily I felt better as the day went on, but it took a long time to trust a toot to be just that and not accompanied by more! I tried to keep some power on the pedals, but it was hard to find that energy. Still the miles were disappearing behind me, at times painfully slow, but eventually I was in Tusayan for what would be my final resupply. I pedaled my heavy bike up to the South Rim just as the sun set and then proceeded to strap it to my pack and drop into the Grand Canyon. As I shuffled down the South Kaibab Trail I felt so happy, I wasn’t thinking or stressing about this crazy part of this race, I was Doing It! By the time I made it down the the Colorado River my whole body felt destroyed and I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open, I had been moving for 21 hours straight already and had the entire climb out still ahead of me. There is no sleeping in the Canyon without a permit so my only option was to keep moving till I made it to the North Rim. I can say that the next 12 hours were some of the hardest of my life. My pack was cutting into my shoulders and hips, my head was a mess, my eyes wouldn’t stay open, and my legs were so tired and tight. The climb is so incredibly long and was soon filled with Rim to Rimmers, hiking and running the Canyon. It was nice to have company, but also exhausting explaining over and over what the fuck I was up to!

Finally I made it to the North Rim, I sat down and felt like I was done. I was so deep down tired and exhausted physically and mentally that I really felt like I finished, having all the rim to rimmers around made it feel even more like a finish line. I put my bike back together and ate some food, I googled resupply options as I didn’t have much food left, eating was how I got through the Canyon. I couldn’t see myself going off route for food, I looked at the remaining route and somehow thought it would be fast, I would be fine with the tiny bit of food I had. I got on my bike and rolled away feeling lost, confused and like I forgot something important. Oh how right that feeling was!

The last 70 or so miles were absolute hell for me. I tried to go fast but ran out of steam so quickly every time. I was so tired I wasn’t sure what was going on, where I was really going, I was such a mess. I tried, I dug deep and deeper, I took bunch of little naps, still I was fried beyond finding any sort of composure. I ran out of food, my water froze solid, my feet and hands were so cold. Somewhere around the turn for Jacob Lake I called my wife who was picking me up at the finish to just come get me, now. I didn’t care about finishing, or even winning this damn race. I just wanted to be done, I had nothing left to keep me pushing or riding my bike. Rachel refused to fetch me and said she would see me at the finish. So I kept moving, napping, crying and struggling my way to Stateline Campground, it took forever, it took everything I had and didn’t think I had left to get there. It wasn’t till I saw Rachel riding up the trail with a rainbow tutu on that I knew it was actually going to end, that it was over.

Since then I have been eating and sleeping every chance I get. I am back to work, back to being a full time dad. It is almost like things are back to normal, but I am still deeply effected by this ride. It shook me, drained me and crushed me. I feel unsettled, normally I would probably turn this into how to do it better next time, but I am not sure I want to ever do that again. It has only been a week since I finished, crazy how it feels like a dream, but not sure it is a dream I want to have again.