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Geoff, my riding buddy of 30
years, has spent half of those years being hounded to experience the fixed
feeling. He finally gave in so Phil converted his ’71 Paramount to a 70”
fixed. And what a conversion it is: new wheels, new stem (the Cinelli
had cracked), new decals ($80!), a complete rebuild, and rewrap. There
isn’t a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon alive who could match the end result
of Phil’s rejuvenation of that old girl |
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| Consequently, an overnighter
was the order of the day for Geoff’s maiden voyage. Now you’re dealing
with three old timers here. We learned long ago that touring means steeds
of hand built steel for the best combination of comfort, performance,
and class. Geoff’s vintage Paramount, Phil’s custom-tailored 2003 Vanilla,
and Craig’s highly functional Volkswagen-like Kogswell Model G. |
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We decided on a motel (read:
old man’s) tour to the ex-Cow town gone Retirement Ranchettes community
of Sonoita, Arizona, roughly 3000’ higher and 45 miles south of Tucson.
Getting out of town (2200’) isn’t too difficult, about an hour of riding
through the cancerous development eating away at the Sonoran Desert. Then
you hit the high desert grasslands along Highway 83 and climb up to Sonoita
Pass (5000’) in the oak woodland/grassland transition zone. A 70’ gear
has done OK up to the base of the pass, but the test of truth is coming. |
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| We
stop at a highway ramada (rest area) before starting the real (versus
gradual) climb. From here to the pass is about 4 miles of a 6%-8% grade.
With a light load and patience Geoff learns that 25 rpm’s on a fixed
can be strenuously enjoyable and you can carry on a conversation while
you’re at it. I had rigged my Kogswell with a 1936 Sturmey Archer TF
hub (2 speed fixed with 69’ and 53’ gears). Pull the lever and you are
gliding up an incline without so much as a Howdy doo Ma’am. |
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Of
course, Geoff and Phil pull away like banshees, the guilt becomes too
overwhelming, and I flip back into my 69” gear, never to return to that
sweet little 53 (I’ll save it for solo tours). Unfortunately, in order
to catch up, my out-of-the-saddle climbing pulled a muscle deep in my
right shoulder that still hurts almost two weeks later. This getting
old is for the birds. |
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| At the top of the pass the girls
wait for me and take in the view. To the south are rolling grasslands
dotted with oak and juniper (desert cedar). 10,000 years ago it was home
to wooley mammoths and those who hunted them. Mammoth bones, some pierced
with Clovis points, still erode out of the washes. Mexico is on the far
horizon. 200 years ago it was the site of one of the largest land grants
in the Spanish Empire. To the southeast are the hills where James Stewart
battled Apaches and bad men in Winchester ’73 (1950). To the west a New
Age battle is being fought over some of the prettiest country in southeast
Arizona. A defeat in that battle will result in an open pit mine the size
of a small city. |
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Twelve miles of rolling road
bring us into Sonoita and the Sonoita Inn, an exact copy of a huge Connecticut
barn (a tad bit out of place but what the hey). Each room is dedicated
to one of the many ranches that have existed in this area for the past
hundred and twenty-five years. The walls are covered with current and
vintage family photos from each ranch. The owner of the Inn was also the
owner of Secretariat, the famous racehorse. Secretariat memorabilia is
scattered over the lobby. From the second story you can look out a picture
window to the hills where Howard Hawks directed John Wayne and Montgomery
Clift in Red River (1948). |
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| After
settling down in our room, we notice a fine spread of wine, cheese,
crackers and fruit in the main hall below. Geoff asks if this is included
with the room. “You bet,” says our host. Like vultures on roadkill we
descend onto that table and begin imbibing the local wares. This part
of Arizona is not only cattle country, but it’s wine country also. And
pretty good wine too! “My you boys downed that fast. Would you like
me to get you some more?” “Yes Ma’am.” And it kept coming. |
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The remainder of the evening
was spent dining at the Steak Out, one of Arizona’s better steak houses,
listening to Bluegrass and Western. The Steak Out doesn’t serve those
tasteless eastern factory-raised cattle. Here you’ll get a richer, leaner,
grittier, half-feral range-fed horned denizen of the desert. And it will
be mesquite grilled to perfection. (Geoff’s a veggie. Gawd I love ripping
flesh from bone in his presence.) You know this place is good because
the locals are in equal numbers to the tourists. You sure can tell the
difference too. Down jackets, polarfleece pants, and new hiking sneakers
mix with honestly worn-in Levi’s, canvas jackets, and pointy-toed boots
with the occasional pair of spurs. All the while our barmaid kept us supplied
with Bass Ale and Guinness on tap |
| Morning had us taking off in
temperatures in the mid-20’s, but a slight tail wind helped keep the cold
at bay. The ride was generally downhill now, so spinning was Geoff’s lesson
of the day. Once over the pass it was about 30 miles of spinning too.
By the time we got back to Tucson the woolies had changed to shorts and
t-shirts as the temperature had risen to 67 degrees, typical for the desert. |
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