On a mission

January 15, 2024

We spent some time last night gaming out what to do with today, assuming that I’d be sitting it out. We ended up with the plan that Rachael and Susan would drive out to the Schoonover Trailhead at the start of the loop out to Colossal Caves that I’d thought Susan and I might ride together. The issue though is the bikes - it makes me anxious thinking of fitting both Susan’s and my bikes in the back, one resting on top of the other. Susan’s game, but to me there’s too much risk that one of the bikes will get damaged.

Susan and Rachael together changes the equation though, because her bike when folded fits nicely with a full sized bike. We do this over and over again of course, and it’s no big deal at all. As long as you’re comfortable folding and unfolding the bike of course, which actually takes a little practice and experience if you want a good outcome; and Rachael has never done this - it’s one of my specialties on the team. In the middle of the night I lie awake thinking through a training session with Susan and Rachael in the morning, showing them the technique and what can go wrong and then letting them try it themselves.

So that seems reasonable; but then it occurs to me that Rachael could get a flat tire, which even though unlikely isn’t unreasonable. Her tires are getting worn and will be replaced next week when she takes her BF in for its pre-tour maintenance, and the ride down the Old Spanish Highway comes with a risk of running over flattening trash such as tire retread fragments on its shoulder.

A flat would be a real problem, because getting our marathon tires on and off our 20” wheels is quite difficult even for me with all the experience I’ve had with it (another of my specialties on the team). We don’t worry about this too much when she’s off on a ride by herself because most of the time I’ll have the car with me and can rescue her - or of course she could call a cab or something. In this case though, I’ll be 20 miles from the car, and sick.

I wake up resolved that we should scrap this plan, but Rachael beats me to it. She’s been thinking it through herself and has many of the same concerns. So Colossal Caves is out. Sorry, Susan. But really, it’s not all that great a ride.

Something else happened in the middle of the night though - I started feeling better. When I wake up I seem to be done coughing and my sore throat is gone so I suggest that we all bike out to the San Xavier del Bac Mission together, one of the classic Tucson destinations and one Susan hasn’t seen before. I’ll start out with them, and if it’s not working out I’ll just turn back short and they can complete the ride together.

By 10:30 it’s warm enough to ride, and Rachael and I swing by Susan’s place to pick her up. Conditions are ideal, which makes me feel a little guilty when I think of the terrible cold and winter weather so much of the country is suffering through this week.

The ride begins with a relaxed, easy run up the Santa Cruz on the Loop to its end at Valencia Road. We leave the bikeway just before Valencia and bike through neighborhoods and shopping malls for as long as there’s an option, but eventually there’s no alternative to biking on Valencia for about a mile. Which isn’t absolutely terrible because there’s an acceptable shoulder the whole way, but it’s just such a busy highway that it’s unpleasant.

Enough of that, we all think when we come to the turnoff onto rough, unshouldered Mission Road. From here it’s another two miles to the turnoff to the mission itself, with enough traffic that this part of the ride isn’t all that great either - but drivers are respectful and give us plenty of room so it’s not really an issue. It’s an area though where the city really should try to extend a bike path, though it would take some negotiation since it’s all reservation land.

Virtually 100% of the traffic turns off to the mission though, so it’s pretty much just us and the cacti for the next ten miles as we bike gradually uphill to the summit before the road drops off the other side toward Green Valley. I bike with the others for the first few miles, but when I see a dark hawk atop a pole ahead I have to stop to check it out. I’m still looking for my first Harris’s Hawk of the year and this bird is dark enough that it could be it - until he loses patience with me and flies off, flashing his red tail my way.

South on Mission Road. The next ten miles are much like this - quiet, fairly straight, gently uphill.

The views ahead get better the further south we go.

I fall behind to check out this dark hawk, thinking it must be a Harris’s. It’s not though, it’s a ‘dark morph’ red tail. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen one this dark.

I finally catch up again when they’re stopped at the end of the route I had mapped out. It’s far enough at 45 miles round trip that it felt like the obvious place to stop, but when I see the top of Helmet Peak jutting up above the structures of the Pima Mine I wish I’d added another mile so we could get far enough to get a good look at it. I bike a little beyond them hoping I’ll come to a clearing with a view, but the mineworks make that impossible.

The best I can do today. Too bad, because Helmet Peak is attractive if you can get a good look t it.

Oh, wait. I’ll just steal one from the past.

So I just turn back and start coasting, stopping long enough to pick up Rachael and Susan on the way. Then it’s all downhill for the ten miles back to the mission. The road carries more traffic now though, all going our way and moving fast. I check the time and see it’s just past one so it must be a shift change or lunch hour rush at the mine. It only lasts for about five minutes though, and after that we’ve got the road to ourselves again.

As before though, I fall behind when a roadside bird grabs my attention. I stop long enough to see that it’s another curve-billed thrasher - the second in two days! - and then continue coasting until I pull into the mission parking lot and start looking around for them.

The turnback spot, at the summit of the divide. Going forward, it’s a ten mile descent to Green Valley; or going back as well do today, it’s a ten mile descent back to the San Xavier Mission.

Before starting the descent Susan and I stop for dueling portraits. Hers, with the sun at her back, is much better.

Dropping back to the mission, with Mount Lemmon straight on. From this distance and perspective you can really see how much higher it is than the rest of the Catalina range.

I wondered about the white band to the northeast above Redington Pass - snow or clouds. Looking at the photo though I think it’s snow; so we must be seeing the summit of Mount Graham, at 10,700’ the highest ground in the region.

Dropping to the mission on San Xavier Road.

I find Susan sitting on a bench in the shade watching the bikes and waiting for Rachael to return - which she soon does, with a large wheel of frybread in each hand - one coated with cinnamon and sugar, and the other honey. They’re delicious and disappear quickly, but not so fast that there’s not time for the wasps to sniff out the honey and make pests of themselves.

San Xavier del Bac Mission is an extrordinary sight, standing alone in the desert in the Tohono O'Odham reservation.

A female Brewer’s blackbird, one of about twenty clustered above us in the mesquites, waiting for their chance to clear the table scraps.

This is the fourth or fifth time Rachael and I have been out to the mission, but the first in about four years when we’ve gone inside. A lot has happened in the meantime. First, Covid happened - meaning the mission itself was closed and none of the fry bread stalls were in business. And then, a restoration project resulted in a fresh coat of whitewash on the whole structure, and it really gleams now and lives up to its moniker as the White Dove of the Desert. It was half done when we were out here last year, with one tower complete and the other still dingy and scaffolded.

The mission was established by the Jesuits in 1692 to service the Tohono Oʼodham tribe. The original mission was razed in 1770 during an Apache raid, and the current one was built by Oʼodham laborers between 1783 and 1797. Built in the Spanish colonial style, it is the oldest European building in Arizona.

After a short climb back to Mission Road, it’s essentially a gradual downhill most of the remaining twelve miles home. Valencia Road is just as we left it unfortunately, but once we manage to get across it with our skins intact it’s a pleasant ride the rest of the way.

And once again, I lag behind when I see another bird of interest. This one’s a small hawk flying low across the trail and disappearing into the trees, and looks likely to be a sharp-shinned hawk although I really didn’t get enough of a look to claim it and he never reappeared.

A quick stop for a shot of the ragged south end of the Tucson Mountains.

Back on the Loop again, dropping toward town along the Santa Cruz River.

The last several miles go pretty slowly even though they’re largely downhill, as it’s sinking in that a 45 mile ride the day after I thought I might have Covid may not have been the smartest play in the book. It’s too much to say that I’m dragging at the end, but I’m definitely taking it easy.

Which turns out to be a very good thing, because it keeps me on the trail long enough so that the siren of a passing emergency vehicle animates the coyotes down in the wash. Looking down, I’m amazed to see three of them, all intermittently pointing their snouts to the sky and howling. As great is this is, it’s even better because there’s a fourth coyote nearby somewhere behind my back, and he’s howling too. They’re taking turns, the trio below howling and then the fourth coming in with a refrain. I’d have taken a video if I wasn’t so intent on trying to get my best shot of something I might never see again.

Best shot of the new year. I wish I could have been capturing a video too.

Video sound track: Guitka, by Jasmin Williams

Heart

Comment

Link

Today's ride: 45 miles (72 km)
Total: 1,198 miles (1,928 km)

Rate this entry's writing	Heart	8
Comment on this entry	Comment	0