24 Hours in the Old Pueblo—Pedaling Squares with Stuffed Animal legs

When you sign up to race laps in the middle of the day, night, and then day again, it is important to be in peak physical condition. It is essential to have a strong bond with your teammates. It is key that your night riding skills are sharp. When I arrived in the Sonoran Desert — The Land of the Saguaro — in mid-February, I had none of this going for me.

TMC Health-24 Hours in the Old Pueblo (#24HOP) by Epic Rides is a mountain bike race in the desert outside of Tucson, Arizona run annually for the last 25 years, making 2025 the Silver Anniversary edition. It’s a legendary event among mountain bikers, renowned for its unique combination of party, pros, and proselytes. The 25^th anniversary edition sold out in 65 minutes. 

The 24-hour race format is fairly straightforward—whomever throws down the most laps in a 24-hour period, from noon on Saturday to noon on Sunday, wins, and there are many options for how to tackle this monster: Corporate 6 Person teams; Female Duo; Male Duo; Four Person Male; Four Person Female; 5 Person Coed Teams with various combined ages, and several more. 

The most regard, awe and esteem is saved for the solo riders who churn out lap after lap after lap while others get to hand off their baton to fresher-legged teammates and then stumble off to hydrate, forage, and nap. While the laps at #24HOP are not difficult per se—16.4 miles and 1,154 feet of climbing on mostly flowy, non-technical trails—consider this: the female solo rider, Julia Momber from Prescott, Arizona, ground out 17 laps. That’s 278.8 miles and 19,618 feet of climbing. And while that makes me a tad nauseous, the male solo winner, David Geifer from Minneapolis, Minnesota laid down 18 laps for 295 miles and 20,772 feet of climbing. 

 As the sole female on a 5-person, coed, 250+combined-age team, I was tasked with three laps—one at sunset, one at 11:15 p.m. and the last at 8:45 a.m. As the verifiably slowest member, I rode last and was relieved there was no discussion of my being the starter. You see, like most 24-hour relay races, #24HOP features a Le Mans start, where bikes are racked a distance away from the starting line. When the gun goes off participants must run, en masse, retrieve their bike, mount up and begin riding. 

Sure, fine, you might say. Running in bike shoes sucks, but it’s only 400 yards. Easy peasy. Or not. Imagine yourself as a cow (stay with me here). You know your favorite clump of grass in the pasture, the one you’ve bonded with over the years. It’s practically in your DNA. You’d find it by dead reckoning every time. Cool, but now go find it in the middle of a stampede, in a tornado, wrapped in a wall of screaming, honking sound. 

This adrenaline-fueled scramble inevitably led to minor collisions, bumps and scrapes. The female winner for the fastest run time later recalled the scene from the podium. “First I was shoved by one of my teammates and fell down, then I got up and got knocked down again, but finally got to my bike.” This was reported with a grin and two bandaged knees. With no reported homicides, we assume that the shoving teammate was forgiven. 

For my witching hour lap, I donned a skeleton suit I normally reserve for Halloween…and 24-hour race graveyard laps. Many a midnight rider enjoyed this touch of levity, and my occasionally flagging spirits were lifted as well. Other sparkle moments along the course included the Whiskey Tree where racers were invited to take a mid-lap shot of the golden liquid, and the giant, illuminated, inflatable rubber duck that signaled you were in the home stretch. 

In my final, mid-morning lap, pedaling squares with stuffed-animal legs, two chatty riders parked on my wheel and turned down repeated offers to pass. 

“Na, please, I’d love to stay if that’s okay…I’m on my fifth solo lap and I’m toast.”  

“Me too! All good back here.”

We gabbed for a bit, but I mostly listened to their stories, lacking the breath to contribute myself. My experience with other racers wanting to pass was exemplary (and I got passed a lot), but another solo female told a tale of a few close calls.

“Dudes kept trying to pass in corners or on downhills that would have shoved me into a cactus…at 2:00 in the morning I’d had enough…No means no! No! You may NOT pass me in this corner! Get a hold of yourself!”

And this harkens back to an overriding theme of the #24HOP and all Epic Rides events: Be Nice (a.k.a. Don’t Be a Dick). Minor infractions may have occurred, but the overall level of support, community, and camaraderie was exceptional. It’s the one reason I keep signing up for races like this despite my absolute promise to myself every single time that THIS WILL BE THE LAST ONE.

As I said, I did not know three of my four teammates at the outset, I was in ‘meh’ condition, and I hadn’t ridden at night in three years. But passing the team baton and having strangers and new friends cheering for me and my teammates in such a special place as the Sonoran Desert is a magical thing that slowly shifted my internal dialogue from ‘Why did I say yes? I hate racing. I suck. I’m slow.’ to ‘Hey! Look at me go! This is fun!’

“This is Epic Rides’ way of encouraging smaller vehicles and carpooling, thereby respecting the environment by reducing crowding and keeping the 24-Hour Town footprint to a minimum” says the website (larger vehicles are also charged a fee in addition to providing a pallet of canned food. Hallelujah to that). 

The 25^th anniversary event collected five tons of canned food for the local community. FIVE TONS. Hub Youth Cycling from Tennessee brought 38 competitors who spent a lot of time on the podium, and their ranks appeared to be equally male and female. To see this profusion of youth embracing mountain biking—no doubt some of them becoming advocates, mentors and perhaps professional racers—was one of the highlights of the event. 

The word “community” is oft overused, and I’ve committed that sin here. But there is no better way to describe what happens when you bring a bunch of weirdos people together who want to ride their bikes all day and all night through a minefield of giant cacti for the unparalleled joy and connection mountain biking creates. 

So, yeah. See you at 24-Hour Town next year.