It’s no secret that Tim Wild is a big fan of Arizona and its mountain bicycle delights but there’s more to the State than just Sedona as Flagstaff proves positive.
Words by Tim Wild, photos by Mike Farrell.
There’s avoiding it – I’m hugely biased about Arizona. I’ve ridden here every year since 2021, and it has a special place in my heart. It was the first serious riding I did after lockdown, my first adventure in over two years, and its red rocks and desert vistas were the perfect adrenaline-fuelled antidote to lockdown.
If you’ve heard of any Arizona riding spot, it’s probably Sedona. This tiny town, around two hours north of Phoenix, is justifiably famous. Hundreds of miles of technical, jaw-dropping trails, Wile E. Coyote rock bluffs in every direction, and the backdrop for countless YouTube vids and photoshoots. Check Nate Hills and Remy’s max speed follow-cam video for a flavour of its epicness.
I love Sedona. You would too. But if you’re going to head out here for what might be the riding trip of a lifetime, there’s fantastic trails all over this state, so don’t let the bright lights of Sedona’s fame blind you to the rest. Think of this as an insider’s guide – a taste of the groaning buffet of Arizona’s riding.
Forward to Flagstaff
It’s just 45 mins north from Sedona’s cinematic ochre rockscapes, but Flagstaff feels almost like another country. Desert floor and towering buttes give way to denser vegetation and thicker trees as the I-70 climbs from just over 4000 ft to nearly 7000 ft in the space of 30 miles, and it’s suddenly more like the Alps than the desert. Greener, more floral, and with snow still visible on the peaks, even though it’s over 70 degrees. As the sun sets, I head out to meet snapper Mike for tater tots, carne asada and delicious craft beer at The Sidecar Grill, a food truck in the courtyard of Mother Road Brewing. (Side note – Flagstaff’s beer scene is, like, totally awesome.)
Mike and my beloved local pal Molly Joyce have lined up a few of their favourite trails for the next three days, I’ve got a loaner Pivot Switchblade with electronic shifting, and there’s no time to waste. After excellent coffee and breakfast burritos at Late for the Train coffeeshop, we’re off to tackle Full Sail, a 3-mile, 850m flow trail descent unjust a few miles out of town.
Winding and windy
I’m a sucker for an uplift. And Molly has a cold. And Mike has a lovely Pivot Shuttle e-bike on loan. So Mike drops us off most of the way up on fire road, drives our RAM pickup (nickname – The Brodozer) back to the trailhead and powers up another way to meet us at the top.
The summit of Full Sail trail is still a lung-busting, snot-clearing climb through the pinyon, ponderosa and juniper trees that cover the hillsides of this Mount Elden trail system. She might be fighting a cold, but Molly’s got the lungs of a local and soon puts me to wheezing, sea-level shame as we snake our way back and forth across the mountainside. Despite the gasping, it’s fantastic – the trail’s well-plotted, with as gradual a climb as possible, and enough roots and raises to keep us on our toes, not to mention an abundance of autumn colours and the sounds of hundreds of birds.
It’s a very windy day. So windy, in fact, that Molly and I are forced to shelter behind a huge rock and shout our conversation back and forth as we wait for Mike at the summit, but the view is stunning – epic layers of craggy mountains, soft clouds and endless forest.
Blue My Head Off
The wind and the wait are worth it. Full Sail delivers an instant hit of delight, speeding us into long, boomerang berms right from the get-go. It’s been beautifully designed to get steeper, faster and more technical as we descend, and it’s really like levelling up in a video game – every new section seems to have just a few more kickers and bigger rocks, and it feels like the trailbuilders are whispering ‘faster’ in our ears as we descend.
There are perfect ledges of rock to fly off with minimal huck. Whoops and moguls to pump through or risk a cheeky double on. And as the gradient gets spicier, there are big rock rolls and stepdowns that require a deep breath and a steady grip to plunge down.
It’s technically a Blue trail, and all the features are rollable, but you’d have to have had your stoke surgically removed not to get a massive kick – not to mention several feet of air – out of this ride. As an introduction to Flagstaff’s delights, it couldn’t be better.
Space Jam
There’s another trail called Meteoride that Mike says we ‘have to ride’. It’s his town. So we wave goodbye to Molly so she can recuperate, take another shuttle up the fire road and start climbing again.
They call this area the Dry Lakes, and we ride through them as we ascend. They’re formed when rain or water builds up in a depression in the land, but then evaporates faster than it fills. It’s strange to cross an almost flat, tressless plateau thousands of feet up a mountain, even more when the aftermath of forest fires in 2022 is still in evidence – scorched earth, blackened stumps and piles of charcoal dot the landscape.
Meteoride is a Black Diamond – spicier, more technical and with bigger consequences. There are rock rolls big as houses and steep as Morzine prices. Slender singletrack with steep plunges off to the side. Full-scale gaps, drops from rock ledges, narrow switchbacks – the full range of features. As we stop to session the gnarlier bits in search of the best images, I resort to quietly singing to myself, steadying my nerves for repeated attempts. Near the bottom of this amazing two-mile trail, after successfully navigating multiple features, Mike wants a few takes on a huck to flat that launches between two trees, straight into a berm. Two sketchy takes later and we’re done, right before my nerve gives out completely.
Meteoride is awesome. To have something as challenging, epic and well-built as this less than 15 minutes from a fortifying sandwich and good craft ale is reason enough to give Flagstaff a special place in my heart. After just such a meal at the excellent Historic Barrel House, it’s off to bed. Big day tomorrow.
Dancing with the Mountain
Last ride, and we’ve got a bigger gang today, with Molly, local rider Ryan, and an old friend from Sedona Michael Rainey, organiser of the Sedona MTB Festival. The climb up Heart trail is four miles and 1500ft, so the chatter isn’t exactly flowing, but this beats a trudge up the fire road any day. Fire damage throws dramatic stripes of black across the forest, the tight switchbacks and rock ledges call for serious attention, and we’re all in need of sustenance and shade by the time we get to the top.
Time to get some wind in our hair. The first downhill is on Upper Sunset, a Black Diamond descent that drops nearly 900 ft in 2.5 miles, and it’s a belter. Fast – maybe as fast as anything I’ve ridden so far – but way more demanding and wild that Full Sail. There are babyhead rocks, lumpy boulders trying to grab tyres and rear mechs, loose pebbles and very, very steep sides to tumble down. Best of all, it’s built to maximise speed, with long stretches of agile descent that take every ounce of concentration. Sedona Mike smiles at me as we pull up for a breather: “Been dancing with the mountain?”
The last hour is pure blue bliss – Little Bear trail takes us back to the bottom of the valley. It’s a little mellower, and the perfect antidote to fried brains and battered limbs. We swoop in and out of trees, swing out over the valley, and finish up tired, babbling and happy.
If ever I needed a massive sandwich, this is the time. Happily, we’ve been invited to chow down at JoeJoeBobs, where the Spicy Italian fulfils all my dreams. It’s packed with meats, cheeses and garlic mayo, and is the size of a healthy infant.
Leave Room for Desert
If you come to ride in Arizona, chances are you’re flying in and out of Phoenix. It’s the state’s largest city, with a population of over 1.65 million people, and all the stuff you might expect from a major US city – huge freeways, miles of suburban housing, strip malls, stadiums, the lot. But here’s the thing – it’s still in the middle of the desert. Which means that on its outer edges, just past the gated communities and country clubs, lies some truly tantalising trail.
We’re being shown around the Hawes trails, in the city of Mesa, just east of Phoenix, and just 20 minutes drive from the airport. It’s million-dollar-home territory, with people paying a premium for uninterrupted desert views, but that hasn’t stopped local trailbuilders creating a system with over 120 km of trails and multiple Blue, Black Diamond and Double Black Diamond options.
Hot to Trot
Today’s crew are Danny, aka Danny the Destroyer, a local MTB skills coach and all-round excellent person, Heidi Park ambassador for Shredly gear and a proper shredder herself, plus a few friendly locals. In typical media style, we’re late, and we need help – it takes this village of riders to replace a busted clamp on Mike’s saddle lever. So the sun’s already roasting by the time we start climbing Blue trail Alpe D’Huez, even at 7.30 am.
It’s dry as a bone, dusty under the wheels, with just a handful of scrubby plants.The rocks are bleached almost white by the heat – Phoenix has just had 100 days of temps over 100 degrees – and we’re feeling it. The climb is tasty though, with just enough rocks, hops and twists to keep it interesting.
The descent on Red Mountain Rush is nerve-shreddingly fun. It’s loose up here, and the rock-hard earth doesn’t favour berms, so the tight corners are tests of drift and nerve. The rock features are huge. requiring full commitment to roll over blind boulders the size of cars, or to slither down narrow chutes without being jabbed in the tender parts. As we slip and slide up and down rolling mounds of ancient rock, the sun lights up the desert in a bright white haze.
By 11 am, we’re cooked – literally and figuratively. After one last session hitting a big rock drop over and over in the NRA Pits, mainly for the entertainment of Mike the snapper, we surrender to the sun and enjoy a last, delicious breakfast of Huevos Rancheros and about a gallon of iced tea in a local diner.
Go Direct to Fun
Arizona’s a long way – about 10 hours from the UK – but you can fly direct. You can hire a truck cheaply. You can find all kinds of accommodation from dirtbag camping to plush desert resorts, and best of all, you can ride in forests, deserts and valleys that are all less than 3 hours drive from Phoenix airport. So if you’re looking for a week’s riding you’ll never forget, you could do a lot worse.
