The Sonoran Migration

The Sonoran Migration was a bikepacking trip I host in conjunction with Rodeo Adventure Labs, a bike brand out of Denver, Colorado, that has supported my writing, podcasting and riding for years. The full article is on their website now! Check it out below and then get on over there to read the rest! The link is here, as well as at the bottom of the story. Photos from Stephen Fitzgerald.

I did NOT want to be the one to say I was cold. 

It was pre-dawn in Arizona’s Sonoran Desert, and my toes were rapidly losing feeling. In packing the bags I strapped to my bike the previous morning, I had left my thick wool sleeping socks in the hamper.

The weather report for the nearby town of Cave Creek called for a low of 45, the internet said, and I had promised the dozen riders on the trip of my design through my backyard the warmth and goodness of a winter escape to the Arizona desert. A Rodeo Migration, to put it more accurately. 

Fortunately for me, I wasn’t alone. Unbeknownst to me, Cade Reichenberger, another fellow rider on this outing, was in a similar scenario. And unlike me, Cade has finished fourth at the Tour Divide. He has experienced levels of cold far beyond our present situation. He is, as we say, seasoned.

 

From that experience, Cade has become a man of constant motion. He used the freezing night as fuel to rummage through the Seven Springs dispersed camp group for firewood to burn. Under the early-morning moonlight, Cade gathered these sticks and other flammable things in front of the fire. He didn’t start the fire, but the message was clear. 

As the rest of the tents, bivvies, and sleeping bags began to rustle and open, the communal coldness was now out in the open. Everyone who went from processing their cold in the loneliness of a restless night could commiserate communally around a skimpy morning fire. 

In the next hour, as everyone in camp rotated by the small crackling fire to warm their shoulders, knees, and toes before scurrying off to complete all the small tasks that bikepack mornings require, the joy of backpacking rang clear – we had all gotten lost in the moment. 

But I am getting ahead of myself. Let's go back for a second.

Day One: Jail Break

I envisioned the Sonoran Migration as the ultimate tour of my home turf around Phoenix, Arizona. Phoenix, for some, is one of the last places you might think of for a backcountry adventure. The city is notorious for its heat, sprawl, and car-centric identity. All of that is true, but it ignores the flip side of the coin: Phoenix is also a place of massive ecological diversity, tons of micro mountain ranges, public lands, and fantastic bike riding. 

What I wanted to show was the whole coin. The nature of the place would feel less special if we never had to ride through the city, or so the thinking went. Logistically, this placed parameters around the ride. Day one and day three would have a decent amount of road; day two would have almost none.

The other big hurdle for these kinds of trips is finding the right mix of terrain and distances to support the broad range of abilities that typically come from open invitations for these trips. The road-centric, long roll out of town was my solution for this, letting everyone take stock of their legs and who could be a potential new riding companion on the days ahead. It is a great way to create fast friendships off the bat. Fortunately, as soon as we were rolling from The Velo bike shop in downtown Phoenix, it was clear we had a group of well-trodden travellers. We had Silk Road alumni, Steve the Intern, a professional mountain bike coach, local adventures, and other longtime racers in our group. 

We also had Gabriel Fitzgerald, Stephen’s older brother, who brought down his fully loaded Ineos Grandier off-road rig to offer limited support. The spirit of this event was self supported, but it being an official Rodeo outing meant that we needed to have contingency plans in place. Did we also take advantage of the convenience of our vehicular fellow traveler? Yes. Were we spitting in the face of the bikepacking gods? Maybe. Do we feel bad about it? No, we do not. 

For all the traffic and lack of adventure that comes from a few hours on city pavement, it sure was a good way to get some miles in the legs. Phoenix is, for the most part, very flat, so we ticked through the miles as a unit quickly, rotating through different conversations as our new friends cycled through the 2x2 line we formed. Unfortunately, the massive street party that was the Waste Management Phoenix Open Golf Tournament occupied most of the good routes out of town, which added equal parts stress and annoyance. 

Popsicles at the general store a few miles from the trailhead got us back on track before the real adventure began at the Sonoran Desert Preserve. The Preserve is a huge expanse of public desert that tilts towards the New River Mountains to the north of Phoenix. With development pushing further and further to the north, consuming so much of the richest desert biomes that exist at that location and altitude, that preserve is a buttress of the deeper wilderness that lies in those mountains. 

It is also home to some of the best drop-bar singletrack in the country. We hit dirt, and immediately, the sound of the pea gravel rolling under weighted tires was sublime. The sun was getting lower and the shadows on the jagged desert plants of the Sonoran Desert outlined just how outlandish they are. The trails twisted, dipped, and careened through the washes that make up the microtopography of the desert. 

Therapeutic bike riding, as I like to say, quickly put the roads in the rear-view mirror. 

We continued to climb after the preserve up into the mountains on our way to the Seven Springs oasis that would be camp number one. We were keeping things manageable at 50 miles of total distance, but we still rolled into camp as the sun was setting, feeling pretty excited to be making our way to the destination and the freeze-dried food that we had all selected from our bikepacking pantries. Three in our ranks decided to take on a quick extra mountain climb, twisting their way up Humboldt Mountain in the dark, but for everyone, the day was a nice start to set up the main event: Sheep Bridge Saturday. 

Day Two: The Sheep Bridge and the Gila Monster 

This brings us back to the cold, cold morning and Cade gathering sticks.

Continue reading the full story here at the Rodeo Labs Journal.