The Queen’s Ransom: A Buffet of Surfaces

Words and photos by Julian Urbina

This year, over 30 people—some local and some from as far away as Canada—headed to Arizona to take part in a difficult five-day trip through the Sonoran Desert across technical and demanding terrain. The group consisted of bikepacking beginners like me through to accomplished bikepacking veterans. The Queen’s Ransom is a “re-group ride,” which means riders pedal at their own pace but meet at a designated camp every night. The route starts and ends in Queen Creek Arizona, a suburb southeast of Phoenix. Organized by John Schilling, the singletrack-heavy route took us through some of the best riding in the Phoenix area.

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Day One

At the start, you find exactly what you’d expect: Snacks, introductions, tire checks, gear tinkering, and small talk among strangers who are soon to have a whole lot in common. What you might not expect is the start in Suburban Queen Creek, where John gave us a warm welcome and a brief talk about the days ahead.

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Heading north through the bikeways, parks, and canals trails of Gilbert and Mesa, the group pedaled through the miles at a social pace, eventually grouping at our first water stop, the Desert Trails Park in Mesa. The park looked like a great place to practice skills, with several pump tracks, obstacles and flow trails. Our next destination was the Hawes Trail Network. We rode a bit more pavement heading north to Hawes, with some riders stopping for a last-minute fix at Hawes House Bike Shop.

The singletrack started along the Fenceline Trail that leads to Hawes. The route’s technical nature showed in the first few miles of trail, along with four rattlesnakes in just two miles. One snake rattled and hissed at me while I crouched down for a photo. I thanked it for its cooperation and respectfully passed. The route looped around the northern side of the trail system on fast, fun, and flowy trail to the Usery Mountain Regional Park. From there, it transitioned from flowy and rideable to technical bits with a fair share of hiking.

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We skirted around the outskirts of Phoenix, seemingly never making any distance progress as civilization stayed in sight for most of the day. That was until arriving at the Tonto National Forest. I rode through chunky jeep roads to sandy washes where, at the top of a last singletrack climb, I was greeted by John and friends as they welcomed me to camp one.

Day Two

Most woke up to wet sleeping bags and tents. The first few miles were singletrack that eventually mellowed out into a mix of jeep and dirt roads until crossing Highway 88. We navigated a faint trail to Jacob’s Crosscut, which hugs the Superstition Wilderness boundary. The first few miles were very rideable but eventually turned extremely chunky to softball, golfball, and Rubik’s cube-sized rocks scattered across the trail. The riding was mostly downhill but slow going while navigating through the rocks.

It was mixed terrain to the resupply options: a grocery store and Mexican restaurant. Outside the grocery store, people stuffed their faces and bags with food in preparation for Gold Canyon. The route continued and carved in and out of desert washes, snaking its way east. I would often see another rider 100 feet away, but in reality, a mile of trail stood in between us. The trail rolled through saguaros and up and down steep chutes and eventually tracked onto a section of the AZT bypass into Queen Valley, where we found a golf course, a small bar, and a general store. The store clerk was kind enough to let us refill bottles from the sink.

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Leaving Queen Valley, we had a few miles of pavement. Looking back, I could see several small groups pedaling side by side and chatting, a rare sight on this route due to the heart pumping singletrack. Back on the dirt roads, we passed groups of target shooters sending rounds into the hillside. The further we got from the main road, the more faint the gunshots became until we were back into some beautiful rolling hills that eventually turned into chunky jeep road. The sun was setting when I rolled into camp, where I was welcomed by some friends of John who came out with a van and jeep. They brought barbecue, beverages, cake, and had a killer camper setup, even offering a hot shower! We sat by the fire sharing stories and information for the next day.

Day Three

The sun rose, and the gunfire from nearby campers started early. We had a few miles to ride into Superior, which was our next— and technically last—resupply until we would reach Florence on day five. It was well-graded but not easy miles to Highway 60 into town. A few of us sat down and had breakfast at a local diner. We drank plenty of coffee and left with full bellies before heading to Circle K, where most riders were taking care of resupply chores, dumping trash, drinking fluids, and packing food everywhere they could on the bike. This was the moment I had been most excited about. Looking at the maps, I knew we had some top-tier backcountry singletrack ahead. From the first pedal stroke leaving Circle K to camp that night, the terrain was pure magic.

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Some winding, faint trails through groves of trees led to a short and punchy climb. The smiles showed on riders faces as we descended into Arnett Canyon, a chunky to flowy and back to chunky trail that weaved back and forth through water crossings and towering cliffs. All trail users were present, including hikers and equestrians. In my experience, horses aren’t very fond of mountain bikes. As I stopped to pull over for a large group of equestrians, one horse strayed from the group and approached me where I was pulled over off trail. The horse came right up to me and brushed its head against my shoulder as the owner said, “She really loves mountain bikers.” That was a new experience for me.

Finishing off Arnett Canyon, we approached Alamo Canyon, the longest climb of the route, covering about 2,300 vertical feet over nearly 12 miles to the AZT rain collector. Grinding through Saguaros, around tight switchbacks, and steep pitches, the trail made its way up the canyon. There was lots of leapfrogging going on in this section as people pulled off the side of the trail for what little shade was available, stopping for a break. As I was climbing, I saw Randy from Canada 20 feet off the side of an exposed section of trail. I hurried over to him and checked if he was okay; he had taken a fall over the edge. He was in good spirits but obviously a bit beaten up. It took both of us to lift his bike back up onto the trail, where he pulled out all the cacti needles from his body, and I removed what I could from his tires. Once I knew he was good, I kept pushing to the rain collector, where people were filtering from the full tank.

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After filling bottles, the Arizona Trail traversed along the side of the canyon winding through beautiful cliffs and rock formations. There were some spots of exposure but nothing too hectic. In typical Arizona Trail fashion, it was demanding track. I had to be tuned in, keeping my eyes forward and my bike handling tight.

It’s an awesome feeling when you can get into a flow state on singletrack like this. The bike becomes an extension of the body and weight shifts in every direction as it seems to weave itself down the narrow path. Sitting down, standing up, leaning this way, braking here, and shifting there. This was the first time I rode singletrack this difficult with a loaded bike. All the weight seemed to dampen a lot of vibration and eliminate the squirrelly feel of an unloaded bike. The challenging trail and exposure take up all real estate in the mind, and the euphoric feeling of the moment blooms!

The end of the traverse was near, and I came around a turn to the sight of six or so other riders enjoying the views to the south. We had beverages while viewing snow-capped Mt. Lemmon in the distance. The small group hit the descent together. It was a beautiful dance and definitely the highlight of the route. The group pushed hard and got wild. Hoots and hollers echoed through the canyon with the occasional “oh shit!” with smiles and laughter. We rolled into camp, a saddle of sorts with a beautiful view of Dale’s Butte. Riders rolled in one by one, and you could see the post-descent joy on their faces. As we sat by the fire, headlights up the distant canyon were visible floating down the canyon in the dark. Whiskey was passed and stories were shared as riders crawled into warm sleeping bags one-by-one.

Day Four

The sun rose and hit Dale’s Butte. There was still a good bit of descent until the Gila River, where we could filter water. The trail was a bit of a rollercoaster, running parallel to the river but never quite touching it. Wildflowers bloomed, and the sun was shining bright. The night before, people were talking about a pizza place in Kearny that would deliver roadside. That pizza was on my mind the entire morning. With only a few miles to the ADOT yard spigot, I reached a high point and checked for cell service to place an order. The order started at two pies, but as riders rolled up behind me, the order grew to five. We descended to the spigot, which had many uses, including hydration, bathing, and laundry.

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The pizza delivery had arrived from Old Time Pizza in Kearny. We huddled around the cardboard mountain of pies and left no slice behind. John and his wife Kara, unaware of the pizza delay, must have been scratching their heads at the sag stop, wondering where we were. We had to get rolling and tackle the last few miles of the AZT on route. We found John and Kara on the side of a dirt road, greeting the riders with snacks and drinks while people grabbed sag bags they assembled prior to the trip. We had about eight miles left to camp, and it was mostly downhill. This group loved to get rowdy, and my face hurt more from smiling than my legs did from pedaling. We reached camp four in a wash sheltered by rock. Climbing up onto the rocks, a beautiful sunset presented itself. It would be the last one of the trip.

Day Five

Rolling from camp, the miles went fast. A dozen loaded bikes were lined up outside McDonald’s in Florence, where riders grubbed. It was the home stretch. John did a good job at keeping the route off of sketchy pavement. A mixture of dirt roadside shoulders, canal trails, and quiet roads led us to San Tan Regional Park. It started with a difficult sandy wash but turned into flowy, smooth, and wide singletrack. Game on. It was the last of the dirt, and the group rode it fast until we transitioned back into the city on roads and bikeways, finishing at Old Ellsworth Brewing Co.

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I learned a lot on this ride, some from my own errors but most of all from the awesome experienced people I was riding with. It was inspiring to see everyone’s personalized systems and to observe where they shined on the route. The “regroup” ride format is a beautiful thing. It feels like a group effort while maintaining self-sufficiency. It’s a great way to meet and socialize with other riders you may only see at the start line of other events.

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The Queen’s Ransom is a hard route that will test anyone’s technical skills. It’s such as dynamic ride and a true buffet of surfaces. Don’t let the photos fool you: the demanding, technical terrain doesn’t translate through these images. Though difficult, John has planned it to be set up for success with nearly daily resupply options and reasonable water carries. It’s said the five Cs of Arizona are Copper, Cattle, Cotton, Citrus, and Climate. On the Queen’s Ransom, you’ll find a sixth C: Chunk!

Further Reading

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