Well, the joke usually starts with a Honda, a Yamaha, three KTMs, three Husqvarnas and a Beta pull up to a bar in Mojave. I forget the punchline, something about a Beta or an Italian bike in the desert, but we are having fun. Multiple tequila shots, a blended strawberry margarita (I lose my man card tonight), and trying to piece together today’s adventure. Owner picked up our dinner and bar tab. Good times in Barstow.
Lots of sand, rocks, and whoops. Ron was blowing bubbles around mile 120, pulled up next to me and immediately fell over and believed he was out of gas (he had 1/3 a tank still.) Miles of whoops in the desert do that to you. Last year we rode with in feet of an abandoned mine shaft but didn’t see it... fog was so thick you couldn’t see beyond your fender. This year we found it! ��
Also rode last chance Canyon as well as Baby Michael canyon. The latter so named named for a another barfer’s whose YZ250 started on fire there on a previous trip. After a knarly 15 foot drop in, you are rewarded with tight Sandy box canyon. Don’t look on any maps for it...... it’s not there and we aren’t sharing the coordinates. ��
Part of our group lost the other part of the group... missed communication and few harsh words. But all good after a few drinks in us.
Tomorrow we are riding some more washes and Calico Steps among other highlights in the SoCal desert.
I didn’t take many pictures, I was just trying to make it to the end of the ride. Here are the few I did take.
1) I drew first blood, falling off the trailer on to my back installing a filter skin on bike. May or May lot have had a beer on my hand. 2) The group getting ready to leave and cheery even though it was well below freezing. 3) Mojave stands for Merika and 4) Daniels French sized Merika socks.
