
I wake to Roger shaking my legs to make sure I don't miss breakfast. Despite some of the intense snoring last night, I slept pretty good. Still, I can feel the cumulative effects of several days of good riding starting to catch up with me, both in terms of fatigue and stiffness/soreness. But hey, I didn't drive 13 hours to get here so I could sit around and whine... I came to RIDE!

We get yet another great breakfast to start our day. I gear up and head for the parking lot. It is not quite as cold this morning and the wind is already blowing pretty good. Today, we head for the remote Cienega loop. Apparently, very few people have ridden that part of the park and it promises to be an adventure. James and Matt bugged out and headed for home, Jeff and Jeff are riding with a different group today, heading to the Road To Nowhere. So it looks like it will be me, Roger and Mark. That's cool because our riding paces all seem to groove well together. It's a long drive on the main road to get out of the park, so we get started.
Looking West toward Presidio

I hang to the back and let Roger and Mark get ahead of me, partly because the dust is so bad on the main road, but also because I am just feeling stiff and uncomfortable in the loose gravel corners. Once my muscles loosen up and my brain starts firing on all cylinders, I'll be good. For now though, I just take in the scenery and enjoy the ride.
It is about a 30-40 minute ride just to get back to the park entrance

We eventually make it to Casa Piedra Rd., and turn North. Like the park road, this is well maintained and wide. It is also crazy dusty. Even though the road is well maintained, meaning no seriously nasty washes across the road, there is still a LOT of loose gravel ranging from pebble size up to about 1-1/2" in diameter. It tends to get piled up in corners. Now I am finally starting to relax and get in a groove with the bike, sliding the rear in the corners and hitting the gas coming out. This road is great for getting into a rhythm but still has the occasional surprise if you are not paying attention! We are looking for a trail head, using GPS tracks made by someone else (Izzy?) last year. We stop a few times in an attempt to get our bearings, then crest a hill and find Patrice and Mark at the trail head. We convince them that we should all ride together and head off into the unknown, Patrice in the lead.

We only go a short distance and the track turns to deep sand and we enter into a dry river area, well... mostly dry. There is a tiny bit of water, not really even enough to qualify as a water crossing, and then more sand/gravel. Then come the hill climbs. The road looks like it has been here a LONG time but hasn't seen any traffic in almost as long a time. The hills are high but rolling, so the climbs and descents are long but not too bad. Over all, we are gaining in altitude constantly as the entire area slopes upward as we near the mountains to the West. At one point we come upon some cows in the road and they take off running... down the road... for a long time... Finally, they get tired of running and veer off into the brush, glancing back at us with slightly perturbed looks on their faces. We reach an intersection and stop for a break and to check the route.
Getting closer to the steeper hills and more fun!
Mark, Patrice and Mark

Once we settle on the direction, I take off in the lead. I like not having to worry about navigating the route, but the price of following is dust. So every now and then I like to run out ahead of the group just so I can enjoy a clear view of the road and scenery. If I get very far ahead or encounter an intersection or particularly rough section, I wait for the group to make sure we all get through in the right direction. So far on this ride, EVERYONE has been really good about making sure the GROUP is taken care of and no one is lost/overlooked. I really like that about these kinds of rides, whether I am the one doing the looking after or being looked after!
Patrice on his wife's DRZ 400, which he is really enjoying!
Mark and Roger finishing off a long climb
Patrice taking in the view... It looks relatively level, but what you are really seeing is the tops of all the hills and not the valleys.

Just beyond where the road vanishes in the picture above, there is a long steep descent. I take the lead. The road is quite rutted and there are some nasty big rocks to dodge. At the base of the descent is a rough wash with even bigger rocks. I slow, pick my line, hit the rock I am trying to miss, lose my momentum, and since James is not with us I take over the Yucca inspection duties!

Right as I come to a stop, the bike leans left and I lay over into a BIG Yucca, one of the long spiked leaves finding its way between my goggles and helmet to jab me in the cheek!!

That burns! I drop into first gear, hit the gas, spin the back tire and wiggle my way out of the wash to start a good rocky climb that winds its way up the next hill... Good times!!

Eventually we enter a dry creek bed and decide to stop for a break. It is starting to get warm and the sun beats down on us. Good shade is hard to find. I'm thinking that it might be a good idea to start packing a small tarp or something that can be fashioned into a lean to for shade for these desert rides. Some years back when I was riding in the Mesa Desert East of Phoenix, it was 100+ degrees and three of us were trying to cram under a spindly bush just to get SOME shade and relief from the pounding sun. I've learned that if I park the bike just right, I can lay next to it and be in the shade. This may seem like much ado about nothing since the ambient air temperature is only in the 70's, but that radiant heat can really get you! Then there's the whole thin hair sunburned scalp thing...
Mark doing some trail side repairs to his XR650L... a few well placed zip ties and all is good!
Patrice just soaking up the desert goodness... Yes, that is the "road" disappearing into the scrub brush on the right side of the shot...
Lots of deep gravel and loose rocks just waiting to point your front wheel where you don't want to go when you least expect it...

After a nice break, we mount up and get moving again. I REALLY like the creek bed stuff so I take off in the lead. There are times where I am not 100% sure which way the actual trail/road is supposed to go, but then I spot tire tracks from the guys that came out here yesterday and know I'm either on the right track or about to get lost at the same place they did! Either way, I am having a great time and keep going. The bike is just floating over this stuff like I am riding on a cushion of air. Rocks I would have been feverishly avoiding on the KLR just vanish under my wheels with little concern. The hand guards are working over time pushing overhanging thorny branches of all sorts away from me. The rocky creek bed soon gives way to a sandy track running through the scrub and eventually comes to another intersection where there is a windmill and water tank.

After a brief stop to let everyone gather up and some consultation, it is decided that the route goes right. Off I go. More deep sand with quite a few tight turns and some washes to cross, then it's rocky two track climbing a nice hill. Maybe a half mile or so from the intersection, I stop after the climb at a nice vista. The other guys catch up, consult the tracks, and decide we should have gone the other way... So we turn around and cruise back. By now I am really clicking with the bike and just having a blast. I am very relaxed, riding smooth, and am focused on only what I need to be paying attention to instead of EVERYTHING. That is a big part of riding well, learning what can safely be ignored so that you free up processing power to pay attention and react to what really matters. This is something new riders struggle with, whether on the street or the dirt. The problem on the dirt is that the bike is generally more stable if you carry a bit of speed, but this means more stuff coming at you faster and it can overload the brain's ability to process what is happening. So you ride slower, which makes the bike less stable, which freaks out your brain, which makes you do the wrong things at the wrong time. This is why training and seeking out advice from more experienced riders is so important! Anyway, in this moment, it is all flowing for me and it feels great.

We get back to the intersection and go the right way. I take the lead again. The road is mostly sand/dust with some scattered rocks. As I cross over a railroad track, I spot a small fox running in the road ahead of me. He's the size of a small dog, maybe 12-15 inches high, 24" long and has a big BUSHY tail. He runs down the road a bit until he realizes I am right behind him and then vanishes into the underbrush. Shortly after the tracks I come to another intersection.
A deep washout gulley. I bet this is a site to see when the rains move through here!

The road goes left and right around the gulley. We're not sure which way to go. I see the road going left on my GPS as eventually reaching back to the Casa Piedra Rd., but the tracks go the other way. The day before, Jody (one of the guys that rode this loop the first day) mentioned that when in doubt, trust the roads over the track. We eventually decide to go right. The road becomes deep loose sand and the bike just likes to plow through it. Right away there are several really tight corners around some big ruts and washes so I can't keep the speed up. This is where steering with the throttle really becomes a must, just point and shoot. RIGHT at the inside of each corner there is some kind of huge bush with long branches and LONG spikey thorns on each branch!! The hand guards shove them out of the way and my heavy duty riding suit absorbs what doesn't get moved. After maybe a hundred yards, we drop into a large wide dry river bed with REALLY deep loose gravel. AWESOME!

There's only one problem... We don't see any tire tracks from the previous groups and no signs of anything that looks like a road... Patrice and I putter around the area but don't see anything obvious. So we run back to the intersection and ride a short way the other direction. There are truck/jeep tracks, but nothing that looks like bike tracks. We sit a few minutes, trying to figure out what to do, then I head back to the river bed where the other guys are waiting. While I was gone, Roger found the road. So I double back again, find Patrice, and let him know about the road. So by the time this is all over with I have gotten to rip through all the loose sand and river bed gravel four or five times. I could play around here all afternoon, but the day is getting on and we still have a long ride to get back to the Bunkhouse.

The "road" is actually on the far side of the river where a line of Cottonwood trees runs. Roger leads the way. It's really cool looking when we get up into the trees. The road is mostly deep sand/silt here and we are looking at a short steep climb. I get out the camera...
Roger making it look easy as usual...
Patrice follows
Then Mark
and Mark

And finally I head up the hill. It has a great berm to drive off of right at the top where the road bends to the left. But the guys are all stopped waiting for me so I can't really get throttle happy on it. Now we are back to the typical two track rocky road that wanders up, over and around the gentle rolling hills. We come to a few more intersections requiring some "navigating" and eventually find our way back to the Casa Piedra Rd., at the Northern trail head. Here we split off from Patrice and Mark. We make the run back to the Bunkhouse on the main road. This time I am flowing through the corners nice and smooth, unlike this morning.

We finally reach the Bunkhouse and relax on the front porch. The plan is to ride out to Guale 1 and 2 overlooks because everyone has said these are a must do. We gas up the bikes, eat some snacks, and spend a little time relaxing. Now, there are times when one should listen to the signals he is getting from his body. This was one of them and I don't listen. By the time we get back on the bikes and start for the road that heads to the overlooks, I am tired. I was fine until we sat on the porch and started relaxing. At first, I don't really realize how tired I am. Then we turn off the main road and start South on the unimproved road. Like so many of the other roads, it starts out fairly easy, just rolling up and down as it makes its way over to the bigger hills. I notice that I am not in that flow like I had been earlier. It's the last day of riding. I'm tired. So I decide to back down the pace and "take it easy."

Anyone that has ever ridden very long knows that there is typically a pace that is the comfortable pace. This is the pace where your brain is used to processing information and reacting to surprises. Ride over this pace and you significantly increase the chances of getting hurt. Unfortunately, the same is true of trying to ride under that pace, like if you are hanging behind a rider whose comfortable pace is slower than yours, or... you decide to "take it easy"... You see where this is going right...?

So I am just plodding along, Mark riding a ways behind me, and I cross a shallow wash, not unlike the hundreds of other washes we've been crossing the last few days. As I am climbing out the far side on the shallow slope, I feel the back of the bike kick and in an instant the rear is trying to lead the way and I am going sideways at about 30-35mph... Uh...

There is an old saying among dirt riders, "When in doubt, GAS IT!" Well, like many old sayings, this is not an absolute. In this case when I instinctively grab more throttle, the back tire just sweeps the road clean of rocks/gravel as I low side on my left side. All I can see is the cloud of dust right in my face, almost like being closed in a bubble. I can hear the grinding of me and the bike sliding on the gravel, some of it kind of big!! I separate from the bike and slide a few feet further on the road, stopping and just rolling onto my right side...

There's always that few moments after a get off where the brain is kind of rebooting... taking inventory of what has just happened and trying to get reoriented. The adrenaline is gushing through the veins. There is no pain yet... Damage reports aren't making it from the lower decks to the command center. Then systems start coming back online. Reports start flooding in. Damage assessments start to register. Awareness starts to move outward from the command center to the surroundings. "Are you okay!?" asks Mark. Uh.... well... I think so...

My left foot is a bit tender, but nothing else is screaming at me for attention. I sit up and gather my wits as Mark picks up the bike. I pull some cactus needles out of my arm... I don't remember hitting a cactus, but then it all happened so fast... Dang... I never should have slowed down!! :headbang

I get on my feet, put some weight on the left foot, bend the end of the foot up and down, and everything seems to work without any exceptional pain. The bike looks fine and Mark helps me get it back on the road. The left hand guard is boogered because the bolt near the triple clamp mount just stripped right out. It's nothing a few big zip ties can't take care of. About this time Roger has returned and is curious about what happened. Mark looks over my riding suit and there is no apparent damage. I love this suit. I have no recall of any kind of pain from hitting the ground, even when landing on and sliding on all those rough rocks. The armor has great coverage and does its work very well. Had I been wearing the typical dirt gear, I have a feeling my arms, hips, thighs, and the sides of my rib cage might have been rashed up pretty bad. As it is, my left foot feels slightly sprained and likely bruised. With the bike good to go, I remount and we continue.

Upshifts are a tender affair. When I try to lift the tip of the foot up, it hurts. So I just lift the whole leg. Standing is no problem and doesn't hurt. But now, almost like a switch has been flipped, I seem to have lost my MOJO!!

Every little rock seems like a massive boulder! I can't seem to get my eyes up off the front fender. I am back to feeling like the front of the bike is just bouncing all over the place out of control. Fatigue has just landed like a crushing weight on my whole body. I find myself trying to sit more than stand when I really ought to be standing. My brain is winning the struggle between ought to do and want to do... I press on, talking to myself in the helmet, "GET YOUR EYES UP! STAND UP! YOU CAN DO THIS AND YOU KNOW IT! GET BACK ON THE GAS! RELAX!" It helps. I am still tired but my focus does come back enough that I am not scaring myself silly.

The remainder of the riding is nothing exceptionally technical, just more of the typical up and down climbs and descents that are everywhere in the park. I finally settle down and get busy with the job of riding. We reach the turn for Guale 1 and head down the road. It is just short section that leads to a small camping area surrounded by hills, nothing much to look at though.

So we head back to the main road and keep going. There are a few more climbs and then we finally reach the Guale 2 over look... COOL! Now this was worth all the pain and suffering to get here.
The big view...
A close up of the canyon, Mexico in the distance
Most of the rock where we are is the rough volcanic stuff, chews up tires where it is in the roads...
Yours truly enjoying the scenery
Roger soaking it in... and that is really what you have to do, just stand there and soak it in...
My trusty KTM 530 EXC... We have now bonded

As we start to gather back around the bikes, it becomes apparent that I am not the only one that has physically and mentally hit a wall. I can just see it in the body language and facial expressions of Mark and Roger. We are all three ready to just get back to the Bunkhouse and call it a day. It's not that far of a ride, but there is no shortage of places to get into trouble of one is not paying attention or is off his game. So off we go...

I take the back of the group and go easy. At many of the climbs, I sit and watch the other guys, looking for trouble spots and also just resting. I beat my brain into submission and make my body do what it needs to do, standing for the climbs, keeping my eyes up, staying on the gas, not trying to dodge every single rock that is the size of a baseball or bigger, and basically just letting the bike do its thing. We finally reach the smoother and more level road section that leads back out to the main road. When we finally roll into the parking lot of the Bunkhouse a great feeling of relief and satisfaction rolls over me. I am struck by just how incredible the riding has been the last few days, how challenging some of it has been, and how much fun I have had riding it with all these guys. We get parked and start the process of decompressing from the ride. I start with a cold beer on the front porch. Roger starts with a shower. The ankle is tender, but it is not serious. A small price to pay for such a great view. Most of the other riders have congregated around the porch and the story telling has already begun. I watch them as they move about. I am not the only one moving slow and looking tired. But it is a good tired, born of doing what you love to do with all that you have in you...

When is that dinner bell gonna ring...?

Dinner is a great batch of Enchiladas, something I normally don't care for, but which in this case are superb! I still can't get over how good the food has been here. It is well worth the price and convenience. After dinner, I head for the showers. By the time I quit soaking in the hot water and put on some clean clothes, everyone has moved outside to the big fire circle. The stars are so bright they just leap out of the sky at me. The fire is already big and burning. As I approach, I see Brad engrossed in some kind of dramatic story telling session. I grab a bench spot and listen in. I don't really catch much of the story as I am lost in thoughts of the last few days and the knowledge that tomorrow we drive 13 hours home and it is back to the daily routine.

Roger and I get everything loaded in the truck except for the bare minimum of stuff we'll need in the morning. The plan is to head out when he wakes up, which is typically the freakishly early hour of 4:30am! We roll out at 4:45am and start the long drive back to the main highway. The sunrise as we head for Marfa and the Border Checkpoint is beautiful. We enjoy a nice ride home and get to Huntsville around 5:30, unload my stuff nice and quick, then Roger heads home. As great as the riding is and as much as I enjoy hanging out with all the other riders, it is always good to get back home to Beth and the kids.

I'll post up some reflections on the trip, bike, gear, etc,... soon.

Thanks for letting me tag along! Till next time...