It has been a long time since I have been out to the eastern part of the state where Safford is located. The last time I had been through here was with my cousin Forrest. I was 18 or so.
The inaugural Tour de Safford brought me out this weekend. It is an opportunity to ride in a part of Arizona I would not normally have a desire to go and use it as a break from the normal training regimen. Several of the Brumby gang have come to participate. A friend of mine from Tucson is coming as well.
The ride begins at Safford Regional Airport. It is a couple of miles out of town with plenty of parking. The weather for the start is cool and clear. There is a slight wind so it will be important to remain in a group. Not a large crowd this morning. Tim and I remain near the rear as we line up. I mention that he should cling to my wheel as we will press our way forward to the front.
A slow mass start as a couple of sharp turns, a left then right, occur within the first quarter mile. There was a note about a cattle guard in the instructions. As Tim and I approach it, audible calls of crash fill the air. Ahead, riders are moving left and right. We approach the site on a slow roll and one notices a gap between two grates in the center of the obstacle. A riders wheel slid in the slot, causing his wheel to stop and his momentum carried over the bars. People were already on the scene. A broken bike, slight concussion and a few stitches were the result of an ill marked obstacle almost impossible to avoid in a group.
A silent prayer for the fallen and we are off to catch the leaders. Because we were heading west, it was blinding looking back to see if Tim was hanging on. After a couple of miles, I had caught up but there are so many, I did not see Tim. Later I found out he was there until a crash about 20 miles or so into the ride. His wheel also ended up breaking a spoke.
The group stayed together for the first 30-40 miles of the ride then broke up on the long first climb. There were plenty of people so I hung off the back third to conserve energy. After the first turn south at a town called Three Way, we tried to organize a pace line. It was likely in response to a break away by a single rider. We maintained a smaller group to Duncan. The pace picked up a bit as the wind backed us to the next climb.
The group broke up even more on the second climb. I fell back initially and stayed with a couple of guys until my energy returned. Before the top, I caught the next group. This group actually was not the first, but it is larger. Only a few people were taking turns at the front. As soon as someone would roll off, there was a hesitation on the part of the next couple to pull. This continued for the next several miles.
Finally, we made a push to catch the leaders. As one of our lead riders finished a pull, there was disarray. No one wanted the front. Feeling frustrated, I squeezed through about four or five and pressed on to close the gap. Amazingly, others had found the energy to tag along. I got us within 50 - 75 yards and had to turn it over to someone else. We caught them, but there seemed to be a certain level of frustration among several.
The last long stretch is generally flat. It comes out of the hills and is a gradual descent, maybe 1%, westward into Safford. We had a group that numbered 15-20. This far into the ride, I emphasize ride not race, not everyone would take a turn at the front. It was extremely frustrating circling to the back that a few would produce a gap to let you back in line. Seemingly, one or two stood out. The regulars continued until the last turn north back to Airport Road when people started getting antsy. A couple of miles later, we face a nice grade up to the airport; it reminds me of Kong (one of the short, steep climbs on a training route).
As I prepare to gear up, my chain drops and it takes me a bit to recover. Fortunately, I did not have to get off the bike, but it puts me back about 75 yards from the front. The climb is completed and I use what I have to catch up. It is just enough to get me there, but just in time for the others to begin an increased pace to the finish. My legs needed a few seconds to partially recover prior to pressing for the line. They get the rest required for a final sprint. The group is fairly strung out and I do my best to catch one or two coming into the final turn.
It's not time to give up yet, only a hundred yards to go. I pass one more and am heavily panting as I cross the line. Not bad, I look at my computer at it reads 4:32. My biggest objective had been reached, I wanted to reach Platinum for the Tour de Tucson.
There was plenty of time to reflect on the ride while driving back to the valley. It appeared everyone had their own objectives for participating in the ride. A few apparently wanted to place first, although, technically it is not a race. The desire to place first seemed more important than making a contribution to the group. To me, it left a sense of divisiveness, rather than unity. This is a good lesson for me to remember in many other settings.
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