I had a mind to go ride some AZT out by Flagstaff. I got snowed out of that plan.
A backup plan Sub 24 – Tonto was required. I packed up. Cloud cover and cool temps for the next 19 hours had me pretty stoked for a ride and a camp.
I started by riding over to Sunday Cycles to get some chamois cream. Nice guys hooked me up all gratis like with Miller Lite and a pack of the cream. Wearing DC socks apparently, besides being ultra swank, have additional priceless value. I wonder if I had worn the full kit what would have happened?.. at any rate, it was an awesome start for my yearly birthday ride event.
I hopped back on the Salsa and got to it.
I made an odd choice of taking Cave Creek Road most of the way to my destination. While it is most direct, it is not mostly quiet. That would change soon enough. My private reserve at the Tonto was getting near!
After refueling at the Circle K in Cave Creek for the camp out, I hit Spur Cross Road. Things turned to dirt. Things got quiet.
Road 48 (aka Spur Cross Road) goes into the Tonto Nat. Forest about 5 miles. It just kind of ends. An old F150 truck remains and some artsy pictographs from long ago litter the area. But that was not my destination. That takes to long to get to and the camping is sub-par.
I was a little worried after the 4th creek crossing. It seems the yellow flowers have overtaken the creek bed and sucked all the water out. It was nice to hang out in a creek of flowers for a bit. They do smell nice.
Not a soul around. Just me and the Sonoran Desert (and my bike..). Water was still flowing in some areas, but most other areas were surface dry.
I pressed on to the spot. The creek cuts into a nice little narrow canyon. Deep and cozy. Not a lot of places to camp. Most all the obvious spots are like day areas and have seldom used fire rings for the horsemen type among us. My spot is on a sand bar located after some bushwhacking and HAB near and under a large stand of cottonwood trees. Sweet.
Once I settled myself, I sparked up a fire. Not many places 27 miles or nearer to my house that I can build a legal open fire anywhere I want.
A decent sleep under the stars and cottonwoods.
Next morning, after anguishing my departure from the sleeping bag (I mean really, every-time I sleep in that thing..), I had my obligatory coffee and a celebratory brew.
Riding out of camp is quick. It’s all downhill!
you are here.
I was there. I put myself where I wanted to be and I was there. The sign told me so.