Tales of Friendship on the Queen’s Ransom Route

I sent Patrick a text message in late November proposing we take a trip to Mexico. Fly into Huatulco, take a bus to Oaxaca, bike back to Huatulco, and fly home. A few minutes later, I stumbled upon a significantly cheaper flight to Phoenix, Arizona. And within a few hours, I had my flight booked and Patrick was sending me heart-eye emojis and we were both excited to get out into the desert together for some riding. A short while later, The Queen’s Ransom route creator John Schilling had laid out a five-day itinerary for us, Patrick and I were talking about bikes and gear, and Mexico was a distant memory.

At some point leading up to the trip, the conversation transitioned into a discussion about our current personal fitness and how we both felt going into a five-day bikepacking trip. At the time, I’d been riding most days but nothing much more than 20 kilometres. I was running and attending a weekly yoga class—a group that consisted mostly of cyclists with tight hamstrings. Patrick mentioned taking some take some time off from the podcast to prepare for the ride, naming rowing and kickboxing as some of his favourite workouts.

We both knew we were coming into this trip in different mental and physical conditions, but the beauty of bikepacking is that none of that really matters once you’re out riding with friends.

Canals & Confusion

The original route, the one John organizes a group ride on each year, starts and ends at John’s house in Queen Creek, southwest of Phoenix. Having limited experience riding in the area, Patrick and I embraced the residential start and followed suit. The first section of the route requires some careful navigation of urban trails and canal pathways with a single goal: get to the Hawes Trail System. While the updated route now starts and ends at the Phoenix-Mesa Gateway Airport, the overall vibe for the beginning of the route remains the same.

Miles: The first few hours of the route had me excited for some proper singletrack and a little worried about not being able to navigate the canal pathways that led north from the city. Some of the canals around Phoenix are developed for multi-use travel and others are definitely not—the Roosevelt WCD Canal falls into the latter. There are lots of fences, gates, and numerous warnings against vehicular traffic. While the dirt paths that border the canals are fair game for cyclists and walkers, those without local knowledge likely wouldn’t assume so. We took a few wrong turns, ended up on the wrong side of the canal at one point, and ended up taking a “shortcut” around a soccer field to get back on track.

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Patrick: On the theme of “our personal fitness,” let’s just say that I went into this trip representing Team Dad Bod. As a single father with two jobs, I’ve struggled to maintain the level of physical and mental health that my body deserves. I had two whole weeks to “train” for this ride, and I did so by riding a fully loaded bike as much as I could manage. There are no mountains where I live in Texas, or hills for that matter, and we are at sea level, which makes training for challenging trails at elevation almost impossible. So, I went into this trip with some concerns around my readiness to take on the 230 miles of the Queen’s Ransom, but that didn’t deter my excitement for this trip or to get to go bikepacking with Miles again!

The first half of the day was a maze of neighborhoods, bike paths, and riding next to canals. As Miles mentioned, there was some confusion on our part since neither of us had ridden by canals, and the numerous signs along the way had us questioning the legality right off the bat. It was much too early in the trip to be bothered by this as we were both still in high spirits and Miles is a great riding partner to be confused with. After navigating our way successfully through the canals, we were rewarded with really good burgers at Steak & Stone, which is right on the route. We packed an extra burger for our dinner and shortly afterward hit some epic singletrack.

The Superstitions

Miles: If the canals are the introduction, the next portion of the route can be considered a solid warm-up for what was to come. From the Desert Trails Park at mile 16 to south of Lost Dutchman State Park, the route follows an impressive patchwork of singletrack. Distracted by views of the Superstition Mountains to the east, we made good time on the first portion of trails near Usery Mountain Regional Park—the majority of it fast, smooth, and flowy. While things get progressively more technical, I never felt totally out of my element. The further we travelled east, the more blue and black-rated trails the route followed. Our subpar sleep on the concrete pad the night before wasn’t doing either of us any good, so we did our best to keep moving forward.

We enjoyed lunch at the small restaurant in the Goldfield Ghost Town, just across the road from Lost Dutchman State Park, and devised a plan for the remainder of the day. A storm was coming and Patrick’s sleeping pad wasn’t holding air, so we opted for a comfortable night just off the route in Gold Canyon. Jacob Crosscut, the trail from the State Park to Gold Canyon, is a black-rated trail that starts off flowy and ends with a teeth-chattering, chunky descent. The trail runs right along the base of some awesome rock formations and canyons—a perfect way to end the day.

Patrick: Night one, we set up camp on a concrete pad and awning with picnic tables. When I went to sleep, my pad was deflated. Huh!? Thinking I just didn’t close the valve well enough, I aired it back up and went to sleep. I woke up an hour later when the mattress had again deflated and I was sleeping on the hard concrete surface. So, sleep for me involved waking up every hour or so to inflate my mattress and try to hurry back to sleep before it deflated again. Around 2 a.m. the winds shifted and increased substantially, and by 2:15 a.m. it was raining sideways and Miles and I were both up and seeking a dry patch of concrete under the awning. I don’t think either of us was too successful.

After a good night’s rest (that’s sarcasm), we broke camp as the sun rose to what looked to be a beautiful day. I still remember the first few miles of singletrack that morning. What’s better than the morning of a new adventure, with a fully loaded bike, on beautiful singletrack, with one of your best buds? I remember some of my nerves about the trip started to fade into the background of my thoughts.

Then things got real. The smooth, flowy singletrack turned rocky, loose, and technical, and we found out later that we were riding black diamond trails on fully loaded hardtail mountain bikes. This point was further driven home when an older gentleman cruised past us on a full-suspension carbon rig, probably the right bike for these trails. There were several times that I almost went over the bars or got bucked off in other directions, but I was able to maneuver myself through it without any notable injuries. I have to admit, it was hard, but I was enjoying the challenge. We were doing it!

At lunch, we started to discuss what to do with my punctured mattress. Around that same time, Miles received a text from some friends in Phoenix warning him of a storm that was expected to roll through that night with rain and winds up to 60 miles per hour. After sleeping in the rain and on the ground for night one, we decided to get a hotel. This gave us a bathtub to drown the mattress in so I could find the micro-sized hole, and it also let us avoid the storm. Turns out it was a good call, as sometimes the weather can be wrong, but not this time. It was a serious windstorm, and I for one was happy to be in a hotel.

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Gold Canyon Picketpost and the AZT

Miles: After a solid sleep and questionable breakfast at the Best Western, we set off into the chilly morning air toward the Gold Canyon trail system and eventually the town of Queen Valley. John had told us that we were going to love the Gold Canyon trails, and he wasn’t exaggerating. A mix of blue and black-rated trails twist their way through some incredible terrain, skirting along the south edge of the Superstition Mountains.

The route makes its way to Queen Valley, a peculiar place with a Pleasantville vibe that’s hard to get over. The entire town seems to be centered around a perfectly manicured golf course, the vibrant green fairways just as harsh as the Arizona sun, and it was no surprise to learn that the median age sits right around 65. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were no clocks in Queen Valley. They do have a restaurant and a small convenience store, which was all we needed at the time.

Patrick eventually made the decision to split off from the route, knowing that the next segment along the Arizona Trail would be one of the more challenging ones. After some unsuccessful attempts to persuade him to keep pushing on, we decided to reconvene somewhere before Florence the following day. While I would have preferred to continue sharing the trail with Patrick, I seized the opportunity to put my head down and listen to pop jams on high in order to make the most of the sunlight I had left. I went into full race mode and made good time getting to the Picketpost Trailhead on the AZT. I felt strong ascending the trail beside Picketpost Mountain, and as day turned to night, I kept pushing on with my mind set on reaching the new rain collector installed by the Arizona Trail Association.

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Patrick: Going to bed the night before as I watched the storm blow in, my mattress was holding air, so I went to bed feeling very vindicated by our decision to get a hotel. The next morning was very chilly, but knowing that we had a big day ahead of us, we made it a priority to get out by first light. Despite the sketchy breakfast and the colder temperatures, my spirits were high with anticipation for Gold Canyon. The AZT portion of the route had loomed in the back of my mind, but I made a point to try to stay present enjoy the moment and let the future take care of itself.

We were immediately rewarded for our early start when we got into Gold Canyon and the sun turned the entire valley gold and we could see how it got its name in real time. We took some pretty dope pictures of the section as Miles and I both knew that this was not only a gold canyon but photographic gold as well.

The trails themselves were slightly technical in spots, and on a traditional unloaded mountain bike I’d have navigated them without any issues. However, when you add about 40 to 50 pounds of gear to your bike, some of those technical bits become a little bit more challenging. I think Miles and I both enjoyed the challenge that it provided while we soaked in the endlessly beautiful landscape continuing to unfold before us. There were a couple of sections black-rated that I found particularly challenging, and I almost came off my bike on a couple of occasions.

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At this point, a couple of issues started to percolate in my mind and stomach simultaneously. The questionable breakfast made its presence known again when I barfed it all up on the side of the trail, and of course Miles took pictures. Luckily, the hardest part of the day was over, and we only had about 16 miles on doubletrack to get to town. After lunch was the most daunting, challenging, and remote area of the entire route, and it had me questioning my fitness. It weighed heavily on me as I really wanted to experience the whole thing and get to ride with Miles. But ultimately I had to be honest with myself at that moment and made the decision to take an alternate route that would allow me to reconvene with Miles at the end of the next day.

So, sitting at a table in the one restaurant in town across the street from the golf course in the oddly idyllic little town, I broke the news to Miles. He tried to convince me to continue on with him but at that point, I’d already made the hard decision to pull the plug on that section of the route. As soon as the decision was made Miles went into hyper-speed, and you could see his focus changed almost immediately. Because I had slowed us down, it was a little later in the day, and if Miles was to make it to camp before nighttime, he had to get moving. I finished my burger as I watched Miles ride away, feeling a little bit of sadness but knowing I’d made the right call.

McBuddies

Patrick: I believe I stayed in Florence, Arizona, at the shittiest hotel in town with wallpaper peeling off the walls, a hairdryer that caught on fire when I tried to use it, and directly across the street from a federal penitentiary. Maybe I should’ve gone with Miles—it was pretty rough. The next day, my mission was simple. I was going to go get McDonald’s for Miles and me, then head the reverse direction on the route and find the most idyllic campsite so that when Miles met up with me he would have a good meal and great views. Right before this trip, I purchased a Rockgeist Horton front pouch, and I went to McDonald’s, I made it my goal to stuff it to the max. I can confirm that the Horton will hold six Spicy Chicken sandwiches and six McDoubles quite handily.

I spent most of the day soaking in all of the views, taking copious amounts of pictures, and identifying some good compositions for the next day when Miles and I would ride through that same section again. When I got to our scheduled rendezvous spot, I started my search for the perfect campsite. By the time Miles rolled in about 5 p.m., the site was set up, the camp firewood was gathered, and the food was ready. Seeing Miles again was really exciting, both just to be able to hang out with him and also because I was proud of him for completing that section, which I knew it was a big one. It also felt good to be able to reward him with some food and water because that section was very remote and Miles was running low.

That evening as we ate our McDonald’s around the campfire, we shared stories from our 24 hours apart. Admittedly, Miles’ stories were much more entertaining than mine, and as he described the experience he reinforced my feeling that I made the right decision, although I’ll be going back and doing that section again, and that’s a promise. That evening, we also recorded a portion for my podcast and I have it on pretty good authority it’s worth a listen.

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Miles: I won’t bore you with the details of the Arizona Trail or the spectacular dirt roads heading west back toward Florence. It’s world-class, and I hope everyone can experience it at some point. The real story is Patrick hustling backward along the route to deliver a Mcdonald’s feast suitable for a small family. Patrick is a hero.

…and back again

Patrick: Going to bed the night before, Miles and I had both noticed the amount of precipitation on our bikes in our gear and our tents. Even though we were in the desert, there was a lot of moisture in the air. I was sleeping in an Outdoor Research Helium Bivi, and by 2 a.m., the condensation had started to soak through my sleeping bag. By morning, I was miserably cold and wet, and that was the night I swore off bivies forever.

Frost was on everything, and we were moving slowly, but we had the goal of getting to McDonald’s before they closed for breakfast and that kept us motivated. Before breaking camp, we dismantled the fire and made sure there was no trace anyone was ever there. The trail was steep and rocky and warmed us up quickly. Then, it transitioned into some flowier doubletrack with pretty grand views of South Butte. We stopped for a few pictures, but our stomachs wouldn’t let us stop for long. We were on a mission.

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As the morning waned, so did our window for breakfast at McD’s. Miles, being a beast of a cyclist, pedaled ahead in heroic time trial fashion only to miss the breakfast window by four minutes, which led us to make the unfortunate decision to eat Sonic breakfast instead. As we consumed our less than satisfactory food, Miles noticed that right next door was the Florence Café with amazing home-cooked food. Despite our misfortune, we still went inside and ordered lunches to go. Mine was a cranberry turkey sandwich with bacon on it that absolutely hit the spot later in the day. The highlight of the day was probably the last part, which I know John did intentionally. San Tan Mountain Regional Park was full of beautiful rolling and flowing singletrack that we hit at the perfect time when the sun was starting to hang low in the sky and everything had the special warm glow. It was an amazing end to an amazing trip, one that made us want to linger.

Miles: From start to end, The Queen’s Ransom route is obviously well designed and thoroughly thought out. The amount of time John spent poring over maps and out scouting the route really shows. This isn’t something that was thrown together to organize a group ride with friends, it’s much more. With a few tweaks, mainly the starting point, I expect it to be on the bucket list of anyone looking to escape colder conditions further north and get out for a few days in the desert.

The final stretch of the route is no different. Linking together sandy doubletrack to Florence for one last resupply before reconnecting with some canals and desert paths had a vibe similar to the beginning of the route. San Tan Regional Park was the cherry on top. Patrick and I were both quite tired, the light was stunning, and there’s something about rolling back into town after a few days of riding bikes that always makes me feel super badass. I love the transition back into normal life just as much as the way out.

Miles’ Rig

I tackled the Queen’s Ransom on a modern, shreddable steel hardtail from Chromag. It was kitted out with chunky 29 x 2.4″ tires, a wide-range 1×12 drivetrain, hydraulic disc brakes, and a dropper post. While a little heavy at times, it was comfortable all day long and felt great on every descent and navigating technical trails. I opted for my tried and true Tumbleweed T-Rack with a drybag to contain the extra bulk of my Timmermade Wren False-Bottom sleeping bag, allowing for unencumbered dropper post function the entire time. Up front was an Outershell Handlebar Harness and Drawcord Handlebar Bag, my two trusty Randi Jo Fab Bartender Bags, and a bolt-on Mag-Tank 2000 for snacking on the go. I carried a liter of water in each stem bag, another liter under my downtube, and loaded down my generously sized Rockgeist frame bag with food, tools, and spares. Stay tuned for more on the bike.

Patrick’s Rig

For this trip, I took my 2019 CHUMBA Stella Ti with a Fox 34 step cast fork, Velo Orange Curvy Bars, and Ergon cork grips for the ultimate dad bikepacking rig. My bike is outfitted with a variety of bags from Rockgeist, many of which have been on my bike for years. Going into this trip, I purchased the Mr. Fusion seat pack and the Horton front pouch, Both of which performed amazingly. The Mr. Fusion seat bag has a frame stabilizer, which really was nice on these aggressive singletrack trails. Having all that weight behind you swinging back and forth and bouncing up and down can be a little bit annoying, and I quite enjoyed having everything secured and out of mind while focusing on some sketchy, rocky dissents. I carried 4L of water: 2L on my down tube, 1L in my frame, and 1L in my stem bag. We both went light on food and neither of us carried stoves, opting instead to take advantage of resupply points along the route, which should be noted as one of its highlights. For tires, I ran a 2.4″ Maxis recon that continues to prove to be a durable tire for aggressive terrain like this. When I do this route again, the only thing I think I will change is adding the capacity for more water and more food, specifically to tackle the AZT portion of this route, but other than that I wouldn’t change a thing. Except for the bivvy, of course.

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