The Sagwagon
New member
Greetings forum members, and bikepacking fans. I've assembled a bikepacking rig for my Surly Krampus, which has been my only bike at times, but mainly used for easier trails, short commutes, bike polo, or my vacation bike--leaving my full-suspension rig at home, except when riding fast and technical, and close to the shop. Now that I live in Sedona, there are really no easy trails, so I went looking for somewhere to enjoy the sweet steel and balloon tires, and test my newly purchased gear from Salsa and Revelate.
After packing the bike up and thinking about it for half the day, I left with the plan to ride up a popular 4x4 sightseeing route, Schnebly Hill Road, in Sedona, and take forest service roads towards Flagstaff, or turn around somewhere near Mormon Lake and ride dirt roads back toward the I-17 exit at HWY 179, and pedal back up the pavement to the Village of Oak Creek (South Sedona). Starting with some familiar singletrack trails on my side of town, I worked my way past the vortex-seeking hikers near Bell Rock (and near the parking lots), past Chicken Point, riding the famous Broken Arrow Trail and some neighborhood streets to get to Schnebly. Turning uphill, I drop it into my easiest gear, where it mostly stayed for the next 18 miles. I gained 2600 feet in elevation in four hours with a 65 lb (estimated) bike.
Much of the route was hard, but rideable, and some moments really challenged my skill at picking a line, and avoiding a crash when things got wonky. The 29+ seemed well suited, but I am real curious how it would be with a fat 26er. I should have brought more water, or tested my water filter before needing it to work as it was getting dark at the only puddle without a horse turd on it. With some diligent water conservation, I finished with plenty, but pushed my safety margin.
I rode a couple hours past darkness, once I knew my options for getting more water were slim, and wondering if the lightning behind the pines meant that a storm was coming. Hoping to get within striking distance of the interstate, should thing get bad, I wanted to push as far as I could. Fortunately, I had a good map, and was finding the roads adequately marked, to navigate without my phone (which died about this time). The forest service road was kind of a muddy doubletrack at this point, and my bike sliding around with all that gear, in the dark, did not inspire me to push on rough terrain, should I injure myself, no one knew where I was. When I got to my next turn on to Forest Road 80, there was a really substantial gate preventing vehicle access with a "Road Closed" sign. It looked like all traffic turned around here and went the opposite direction, but I didn't have enough water to reroute. Figuring it would be a long time if anyone found me beyond the gate, I decided to set up camp.
Ever since I was squatting under a bridge at dusk, trying to collect water, I was looking for eyes in the woods watching me. Despite my attempts to use my handlebar light on a swivel to check the trail periphery for reflecting green eyes, I didn't see anything but a skunk, running in it's funny way. Now I know what they mean when they say "drunk as a skunk", as it would just dash left to right like it couldn't guess the direction of it's next step.
The night sky was awesome out there. The stars in between the stars that you see in the city are expansive, and the satellites were easily visible in their lines across the sky. I woke in a panic to water drop on my face. Confused, once I opened my eyes to blue sky, I found that the rock behind my head, (which I thought a good defensive position if encircled by wolves in the night), had become a birdbath with the recent rain, and some tiny bird was flitting water about my bivy sack.
After caking my tires into giant mud donuts shaved flat by the fork blades, serenading the wildlife with the banshee scream of my brakes, and having to walk my bike down some rocky scree, I welcomed the pavement, and an extended downhill perfect for flinging the mud out of my Dirt Wizards before blasting down the last desert double track. Arriving at the intersection of I-17 and 179, I faced the last long climb up to the Village of Oak Creek, adjusted my headset, ate an espresso Hammer Gel, and humped my creaky bike past the tourists.
The trip was about 23 hours door-to-door, with an off-the bike break every two hours of ride time, sleeping past sunrise at least an extra hour and a half, but mostly working hard to keep a 5.5mph average pace for 56 or so miles.
Gear Specs:
Krampus with ECR fork, Anything Cage HD with drybags, Relevate Handlebar bag, bottle slinger, bento box, and seat bag
10 speed 30t, 11-36
Flat pedals with 5.10's
Started with my 100oz camelback with two bottles and coffee thermos full of water; 1/2 bottle recovered from filtering during the ride
I just ate gels and bars, but had a jetboil, sardines, oatmeal and a bunch of nuts and soup I didn't use.
After repacking my seat bag after breaking camp, I had issues with it bouncing and hitting the tire with rear wheel impacts (drops)...need to sort that out, and I may ditch the water filter for purification tabs, but all other gear worked fine.
North Face Gore-Tex bivy was made before lightweight air mattresses got big and comfortable, causing cold feet, so I may change that.
Chain lube would've been nice to have, and some company that could stand the sound of brakes, and knows how to keep a headset adjusted.
After packing the bike up and thinking about it for half the day, I left with the plan to ride up a popular 4x4 sightseeing route, Schnebly Hill Road, in Sedona, and take forest service roads towards Flagstaff, or turn around somewhere near Mormon Lake and ride dirt roads back toward the I-17 exit at HWY 179, and pedal back up the pavement to the Village of Oak Creek (South Sedona). Starting with some familiar singletrack trails on my side of town, I worked my way past the vortex-seeking hikers near Bell Rock (and near the parking lots), past Chicken Point, riding the famous Broken Arrow Trail and some neighborhood streets to get to Schnebly. Turning uphill, I drop it into my easiest gear, where it mostly stayed for the next 18 miles. I gained 2600 feet in elevation in four hours with a 65 lb (estimated) bike.
Much of the route was hard, but rideable, and some moments really challenged my skill at picking a line, and avoiding a crash when things got wonky. The 29+ seemed well suited, but I am real curious how it would be with a fat 26er. I should have brought more water, or tested my water filter before needing it to work as it was getting dark at the only puddle without a horse turd on it. With some diligent water conservation, I finished with plenty, but pushed my safety margin.
I rode a couple hours past darkness, once I knew my options for getting more water were slim, and wondering if the lightning behind the pines meant that a storm was coming. Hoping to get within striking distance of the interstate, should thing get bad, I wanted to push as far as I could. Fortunately, I had a good map, and was finding the roads adequately marked, to navigate without my phone (which died about this time). The forest service road was kind of a muddy doubletrack at this point, and my bike sliding around with all that gear, in the dark, did not inspire me to push on rough terrain, should I injure myself, no one knew where I was. When I got to my next turn on to Forest Road 80, there was a really substantial gate preventing vehicle access with a "Road Closed" sign. It looked like all traffic turned around here and went the opposite direction, but I didn't have enough water to reroute. Figuring it would be a long time if anyone found me beyond the gate, I decided to set up camp.
Ever since I was squatting under a bridge at dusk, trying to collect water, I was looking for eyes in the woods watching me. Despite my attempts to use my handlebar light on a swivel to check the trail periphery for reflecting green eyes, I didn't see anything but a skunk, running in it's funny way. Now I know what they mean when they say "drunk as a skunk", as it would just dash left to right like it couldn't guess the direction of it's next step.
The night sky was awesome out there. The stars in between the stars that you see in the city are expansive, and the satellites were easily visible in their lines across the sky. I woke in a panic to water drop on my face. Confused, once I opened my eyes to blue sky, I found that the rock behind my head, (which I thought a good defensive position if encircled by wolves in the night), had become a birdbath with the recent rain, and some tiny bird was flitting water about my bivy sack.
After caking my tires into giant mud donuts shaved flat by the fork blades, serenading the wildlife with the banshee scream of my brakes, and having to walk my bike down some rocky scree, I welcomed the pavement, and an extended downhill perfect for flinging the mud out of my Dirt Wizards before blasting down the last desert double track. Arriving at the intersection of I-17 and 179, I faced the last long climb up to the Village of Oak Creek, adjusted my headset, ate an espresso Hammer Gel, and humped my creaky bike past the tourists.
The trip was about 23 hours door-to-door, with an off-the bike break every two hours of ride time, sleeping past sunrise at least an extra hour and a half, but mostly working hard to keep a 5.5mph average pace for 56 or so miles.
Gear Specs:
Krampus with ECR fork, Anything Cage HD with drybags, Relevate Handlebar bag, bottle slinger, bento box, and seat bag
10 speed 30t, 11-36
Flat pedals with 5.10's
Started with my 100oz camelback with two bottles and coffee thermos full of water; 1/2 bottle recovered from filtering during the ride
I just ate gels and bars, but had a jetboil, sardines, oatmeal and a bunch of nuts and soup I didn't use.
After repacking my seat bag after breaking camp, I had issues with it bouncing and hitting the tire with rear wheel impacts (drops)...need to sort that out, and I may ditch the water filter for purification tabs, but all other gear worked fine.
North Face Gore-Tex bivy was made before lightweight air mattresses got big and comfortable, causing cold feet, so I may change that.
Chain lube would've been nice to have, and some company that could stand the sound of brakes, and knows how to keep a headset adjusted.
Last edited:
