This all went down the week before last. Our elite battalion of Jerks left the shores of the Mississippi in the wee morning hours under the cover of darkness. Petty Officers Toscani (your Author), Cold, & Boyd were on board, hand-picked from a select group of highly trained C.L.T.'s. A few hours passed and we found ourselves very far away from Team Seagal HQ, several thousand miles to both the south and west...in Phoenix. Soon, we began to travel north in a rented Chevrolet HHR, gaining elevation steadily. High in the Bradshaw Mountains overlooking Prescott, AZ we finally met with our contact, the elusive and crafty Dr. Wesley McLaren:
|Handsome chap, right? Tall, dark and mulleted.|
A joyous moment was shared by all as our traveling troupe was reunited with our Doctor friend. Let us take a closer look at this fearless war-horse, the beauty radiating from his being is blinding:
Wholly MAckrel. Promote this man! I really like the cut of his jib. Wesley was an excellent host. We shipped our steeds out to him in boxes prior to our departure from St. Louis. The kind Doctor had our rides assembled and roaming freely in his fertile pasture when we arrived. I'd like to show you the lovely Kona's we used to navigate Dr's sweet, native singletrack:
Doctors sled, a Kula Deluxe 2-9:
Orin "Leg Titty" Boyd pilots this 2012 Unit:
Your Author, Nikorn Tornornski gets dirty atop this 2010 Unit:
Say howdy to Hawg Jaws, Jonathan Cold's 2009 Big Unit:
With the HHR parked and our steeds readied it was finally time to straddle the saddles. Out Doctor's back door we went in search of fine trails to roll across with our fancy hard tails. Ohh mama, we did not have to look very hard...
The next two & a half days were filled with many ups and downs, literally. With Doctor as our guide we slayed nine combined hours of daylight on three separate rides through some of the finest terrain Prescott has to offer. Being mid-week we pretty much had the trails all to ourselves. Thursdays ride was my favorite, we crushed much of the Whiskey Off-Road course (25 mile loop) and a whole lot more. Daytime temps in the low 60s and a complete lack of humidity made for some of the most comfortable riding conditions some jerk from MO could ever imagine.
The only reason we had to stop riding in Prescott and pile back into the HHR was to head to Sedona. Time to non-race! Its tough not to call this ride the highlight of our trip; its the main reason we'd traveled so far to this strange state where all the plants are pointy and sharp.
We arrived in Red Rock County early on Friday evening and set-up our secret desert campsite.
|Dr, Stove, & Mrs. Doctor give the salute.|
|Pointy and sharp and trying to kill me. Right outside my back door.|
|We built a big fire.|
|The HHR can be viewed just to Nico's left in this photo.|
Of course, we went on to have a fabulous day in the saddle. Riding Sedona red rock all day long was very good. Orin Boyd likened the SBFL to a 9 hour, 51 mile Chubb lap. I'd have to agree.
|D to the R gittin' RAD|
|Steel 29ers playing in the rocks|
|Leg Titty texting his Lady.|
|Ride them both.|
|Found on the trail a few hours in, I'm pretty sure this was imported from Duranog.|
|Way to crush Mr. Boyd.|
Happily & safely buckled into the HHR we departed the secret desert campground and once again began the trek south across the Verde Valley towards Prescott. After descending several thousand feet from Sedona it was time to gain it all back with an accent of Mt. Mingus, we were taking the scenic route back. Three-quarters of the way up Mingus, clinging bravely to the steep cliff side is the visually stunning town of Jerome, AZ and one stellar breakfast chimichanga.
Back in Prescott, we had time for one last sunset. Dr. and Mrs. Dr. took us to the Granite Dells for some spectacular views. Of course we went for another nice ride in Prescott the following morning. Then we came home.
|Champagne poppin'- thanks Lori!|