In Tucson: the Colossal Cave Ride

January 23, 2020

It’s awesome outside today, and looks like a perfect day to ride. Rachael is still a bit congested but feels well enough to get out. And, she’s really anxious to take her super new Arizona bike shirt out for its maiden voyage.

Today is our last day with a W-assist, so we pick a route that is further out: a loop to Colossal Cave, east of town against the foothills. We wait until the day warms up a bit, load the bikes into the Whale, and drive east about twenty miles to a park and ride lot.

And how was the ride? Let’s ask The Boss:

Video sound track: Tucson Train, by Bruce Springsteen

As you can see, it’s a grand ride. As soon as we hop on The Loop, we’re reminded of why we were so excited about coming back to Tucson again. It’s a terrific resource, and large enough to support multiple day rides. There’s more to Tucson cycling than just The Loop, but you could enjoy a pretty great midwinter cycling break just exploring it.

On The Loop, Tucson’s huge bike path that completely encircles the city.

On The Loop. This shot was a lucky accident. I was focused on the barrel cactus but didn’t notice that I was also bringing in three sandhill cranes gliding in the distance.

Northbound on The Loop, with Mount Lemmon looming ahead. Is this an awesome ride? What do you think?

Looking east toward the Rincon Mountains behind Saguaro National Park. I think this is Tanque Verde Peak, but what do I know?

We follow The Loop for several miles, heading generally north toward Mount Lemmon. When we come to the Old Spanish Trail Road, we turn east toward a different range, the Rincons. In fact, if you spin your neck around you’ll see mountains in all directions. Tucson, if you don’t know anything about it’s geography, lies in the middle of a broad basin perhaps thirty miles across surrounded by four mountain ranges. Dramatic country.

The Old Spanish Trail Road is a minor highway, but a great one for cycling. An excellent shoulder for its entire length, it sees plenty of cycling traffic. Circling the eastern edge of the city, it passes mostly through open desert and scattered ranch houses. It also passes right by the eastern component of Saguaro National Park, which we’ll hopefully be back out to see in the coming days.

Midway through the the ride, we come to a short spur road that angles off into the hills before degrading to dirt. Today’s is a somewhat short loop, so we decide to add a few miles to explore this road, and along the way we find a perfect spot for lunch sitting on a rocky shelf beside shallow Rincon Creek.

Eastbound on Old Spanish Trail Road, toward what I still assume is Tanque Verde Peak until someone corrects me.

Still on Old Spanish Trail, but southbound now.

This is the second time I’ve identified a phainopepla for you. Next time, you’re on your own.

I’m starting to get a bit annoyed with this new shirt. I want one!

Northbound on Loma Alta Road, a spur we followed to its end just because.

Lunch break at Rincon Creek. Did I mention that Rocky got a new bike shirt yesterday?

After lunch we continue on the Old Spanish Trail, then branch off onto Colossal Cave Road, which climbs a bit before ending at the parking area for Colossal Cave Mountain Park. We have no plans to explore the park or look for its colossal cave - it’s just a destination point for the ride. It’s a modest climb, maybe six hundred feet over five miles. No problem at all for Rachael, and no problem for me either until it stiffens toward the end and I discover that I can’t shift into the lowest chain ring.

I do the best as I can, and make it until about two hundred yards from the end when I give up and pull off the road to pull out the tools and see if I can adjust my front shifter while Rachael continues on to the top. I have no luck at all though - none of the obvious adjustments makes any difference at all, so obviously I’ll have to drop in at a bike shop before we tackle any real hills.

Mentally, I’m cursing Mo and the San Diego Bike shop. I’m starting to draw a parallel between him and our Very Stable Genius: if there’s something wrong with the bike, I blame it on Mo; anything else bad though is probably Trump’s fault.

While staring at the bike in futility, I hear my name called from the distance. It’s Rachael, 200 yards off and on the ridge above me, shouting my name. When I look up she yells Phone, so I get it out and give her a call. She wants to discuss the ride plan because it looks like the road continues on from up there, but apparently it hasn’t worked to call me. We chat, I explain that I’m dead-in-the-desert hillwise, so she coasts down to rejoin me.

It’s great having a partner with a healthy set of vocal cords. Sometimes that can come in really handy.

Call me! Actually, she’s not in this frame because I didn’t think of it in time, but she was hollering from the top of the ridge on the right, by the parked cars.

The rest of the ride to the car goes fast - fifteen miles, all level or gently downhill once we make it over Pistol Hill. After that it’s a twenty mile drive back to the car rental agency, where we drop off the Whale, give it a last grateful pat on the snout, and bike back to our casita.

Then, I’m off to the local bike store, only about four blocks away. It takes the mechanic maybe 10 seconds to diagnose the problem. Almost the instant he’s loaded the bike onto the stand he calls me over and points to the culprit. Actually he points to the bike, not the real culprit - c’est moi. When I reassembled the bike after removing it from the car this morning, I pinched the end of the shifter cable into the folding joint of the bike and it’s frozen into place, unresponsive to lever action. I sheepishly unfold the bike to free the cable, and he quickly spins through the gears and hands it back.

Sorry, Mo. I feel bad. Not all bike problems are your fault after all. Trump’s still on the hook for all the other ills in the world though, as far as I’m concerned.

Looking west to the Tucson Mountains from Pistol Hill.

Looking north to Mount Lemmon from Pistol Hill.

Looking south toward the Santa Rita Mountains from Pistol Hill.

After almost three weeks, it’s time to let someone else ride the Whale. We’re a bit sorry to let her go, actually. We’ll really miss those seat warmers!

Rachael’s gone anorexic. We’re going to have to start stuffing in more pizza.

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Ride stats today: 40 miles, 2,000’; for the tour: 1,200 miles, 63,300’

Today's ride: 40 miles (64 km)
Total: 1,200 miles (1,931 km)

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