Travel by Motorcycle: Adventures on the Road

I just made a run from LA to Vegas going out through the Mojave and Death Valley.

I planned to leave before sunrise. I was hoping to be gone at 4am, but didn’t get out until around 6:30. The extra couple hours would prove to be useful.

I mapped out a 440 mile route, almost all off road except the first 30 miles. On paper I estimated it to be around a 16 hour ride.

I hit the dirt as the sun came up.

This was going to be fun!

A few miles off pavement and the views were great!

I was doing my best to keep my speed up so I could complete the route in a day. However there were some long rocky sections that made it difficult to maintain pace.

There were also a large number of trails and tracks shooting off in every direction. It was very difficult to navigate and I ended up missing turns frequently and backtracking. There were no markings and everything looks more or less the same.

There were some signs of life scattered around! I’m sure a few of you can recognize these landmarks.

Trying to keep time. Petal to the proverbial metal.

This is what I wanted the whole trip – fast and smooth…..

This hill/mound was real cool looking, like an enormous ant hill. It isn’t very impressive on film.

Apparently I routed myself through some single track. WHEEE!

Time was now passing very fast, but the miles were not. I still had a LONG way to go.

It doesn’t get much better than this!

The terrain was pretty loose in most spots. It was fairly slow going and I had to muscle the bike through some tricky climbs.

I eventually came to an ominous hill and had to stop and think. The second section of the hill (top left of the photo) was extremely steep and looked real loose. I also didn’t know what the other side of the hill looked like. I doubted I could make it and wasn’t sure if I should attempt it. No one knows where I am, its extremely hot out, and I’m riding solo.

After a little thinking I decided. F**k it!

I gave it one good run – and didn’t make it.

Had to work real hard not to loop it.

My tires weren’t doing me any favors either…..

I dropped the bike a couple more times getting it turned around and back down the hill. I was completely out of breath so had to take a break for a few minutes. Did I mention the heat?! I couldn’t believe how hot it was.

After cooling down a bit I backtracked to find an alternate route around the hill. If I was out there with someone I would have given it another couple runs.

The day was disappearing quickly and I really wasn’t covering much ground. I found my way through a maze of trails out to a paved rode….

…. and slabbed it a little while to make up a few miles.

After an hour or so I dropped back into the dirt on new route. The dirt was much faster.

I stopped for fewer pictures as I plowed through.

At one point I hit a gully at a high rate of speed. I thought surely I was going down. I managed to hold it steady but the forks and shock both bottomed out very hard. The rear tire cut through the straps holding my luggage on and I had to stop and come up with a creative way to re attach it.

I covered many more fast dirt miles, then eventually cut back out to the road as the sun was going down so I could make it to Vegas at a reasonable hour.

I didn’t see everything as I had planned – but that’s what return trips are for.

Time to hit the tables!

….more to come….

Today I had to do some work online in the morning then slab it home to be back in time for a meeting. Definitely the least interesting day of the trip – all part of the wind down I suppose.

I covered about 1650 miles, most of which were in the dirt.

A dirty bike is a happy bike.

When I got back I chained it up in the carport, took a shower, and the trip was done.

Thanks for following.

I’ll be giving the bike a thorough pampering and will be off to Baja again very soon. Ferrying to Mazatlan, then down through Central America. I’d like to go as far as Argentina, I’ll see how that pans out.

Cheers! :freaky
-Evan

I had to take some pavement today to make up a few miles. I have a meeting in LA tomorrow and have to be back in time.

Still managed to find some fun dirt riding though.

This view was excellent, even with the power lines.

I had a hard time taking a self portrait because of the gusting wind. Every time I set the camera down the wind would blow it over.

There is some great riding out around the NV/CA border.

You can see the giant dust clouds the wind was kicking up.

Nothing overly exciting today.

More to come. . . . .

My eyes opened when I heard the rumble of an engine.

I jumped up and looked out the window. Coming down from the hill in the east.. . . salvation?

I threw everything in my bag so if it was a truck willing to help the driver wouldn’t have to wait for me to pack.

The headlights turned into 2 sets, which turned into 3, and then 4. A caravan! My spirits were boosted.

It was a group of utility vehicles coming down the mountain about 1/2 mile apart. I stood in the road by my bike and tried to flag the first vehicle down. He drove right by. . . . . seriously?!

The second vehicle stopped immediately for me. He had no fuel, but said he passed a truck a few miles back that was headed this way.

A few minutes later the truck showed up with a bed overflowing of firewood. He had no gas but offered to pile my bike on top and drive me to town if the other utility vehicles couldn’t help. He was a very nice gent and waited with me while the other headlights drew near.

Two more utility vehicles showed up with some good ‘ol boys out exploring just like myself. One of them had a large gas can full of spare fuel which they graciously filled my tank with. I offered them everything I could think of along with my thanks, but they chalked it up to good karma. Karma they got.

It was now middle of the night and cold. They told me the road to St. George was a straight shot. I hauled ass for an hour through the black.

I overshot a couple corners and went careening into the desert – but that happens in the daytime too.

Soon I saw the lights.

I kept the throttle open and made it to St. George a shivering dehydrated mess.

Stopped at the first sign of food and grabbed the nearest hotel.

Good day.

More to come . . .

What was odd was that the checkpoint was at a fork in the road. The map in the checkpoint didn’t show any sort of fork. I realized I had gone way too far south. I also realized I didn’t have enough fuel to get to any gas station, so my objective became to get somewhere I would find other people. The fork off to the right curved north and went up through the canyon. It looked like the best way of making progress in the right direction.

I went up a few miles and the trail vaporized into a riverbed. I went up and down the riverbed in both directions looking for where the trail crossed. There were several feeding rivers that might have been covering the tracks, so I went up a couple. No luck, the trail was gone. The tank reserve went dry and I threw in the towel. Here:

I sat down and thought about my options. I opened up my bag and pulled out my spare gallon, good for 40-50 miles.

I rode back to the checkpoint and looked at the little map again. It showed 1063 meeting some sort of larger road at the very base of the canyon, but I was not confident in the map. I decided to ride 1 mile further down 1063 to see if I could spot another road. It wasn’t there. I turned around and went back to the checkpoint.

With 40 miles of range I had no choice but to go back the way I came. I was tired and sweaty, and frustrated.

For the next hour and half I fought may way back up the canyon through the rocks.

At the top I hit 1063. Hmmm. I thought I was on 1063.

I turned east, saw my motorcycle tracks and was relieved. A few miles further something didn’t seem right. I didn’t recognize the terrain. I parked and examined the motorcycle tracks on the ground – they were a different tread!

I pulled out my laptop and brought up Google Earth to see if I could spot anything helpful in low resolution. I noted the location of a mountain on the map and saw it off to the south. I realized that I needed to go the opposite way to get back to the Schoolhouse.

Ten miles later I was back at the schoolhouse with no more than 1 cup of gas in the tank. The nearest town was St. George, 57 miles north.

There were three hunting lodges nearby which I walked to. The first one had a locked gate. “Hello?!” “Anyone home?!” No answer.

The second I knocked on and walked around. Empty. There was an abandoned truck in the yard and there happened to be a cut up garden hose on the ground. For grins I checked the fuel tank – bone dry.

The third was also locked. “Hello?!” I hopped the fence to knock on the door. No one.

The sun was now gone. I walked back to the schoolhouse.

I had only seen one car in the morning, and no one since then. I had no idea how long it would be before someone might come by. I was prepared to be marooned for a couple days.

I found a ‘just in case’ food supply of expired canned food in a cabinet.

I cracked a beer, the only thing I’d had all day, and put on all my dry gear to prepare for the 30 degree night.

You’re probably jealous of my underwear pillow.

More to come . . . .

Yesterday I rode 14 hours and covered 65 miles as the crow flies.

I packed up early and headed out.

I found some dirt right away and headed west.

The cows were standing all around me, and all of them were staring. Oddly unsettling.

From time to time I came across a great vista.

Trumball single room schoolhouse. From here I intended to ride due west across the ridges and meet up with 15 about 60 miles out.

I thought I was on heading west, but I ended up on 1063 going south west down into the canyon. I didn’t realize it at the time.

The riding was very technical. Steep rock washes.

The trail hugged the canyon walls.

25 miles down into the canyon I was starting to think I had gone the wrong way. The trail drops into the dry river bed. I had to ride down the river bed and cross back and forth countless times.

From time to time there were short smooth blasts.

The trail smoothed out a little bit and turned westward. I was pretty confident I’d end up in the right place.

Boy was I wrong.

I had been on this route for a solid 2 hours already and my tank was running dry.

I came across a check in pad and was not comforted to see no one had been through here for 3 weeks. I was supposed to be in Las Vegas by now but my day was just beginning.

The small paper map inside the checkpoint confirmed. . . 1063 didn’t go anywhere but a dead end in the canyon.

More to come. . . . .

I left Tuba City early today. The weather is much nicer now, and there was only a light chill in the morning hours.

West of town the dirt starts immediately.

Heading west in search of the Grand Canyon. I don’t have any maps or directions, but figure it can’t be hard to find.

I found it! From a couple miles back it’s difficult to see. The ridges that shoot up out of the valley floor hide it quite well.

I find the pictures more interesting when I’m in them. I’m such a self-important ass.

There is tons of fantastic riding on the east side of the canyon. The jeep roads criss-cross all over the place. There isn’t any sense in a map out here – just get a sense of where north is and start exploring. I spent a few hours rolling around looking at views of the canyon.

I think cows just love me. They always want to be close.

I haven’t seen the Grand Canyon before (oddly enough). I never had a whole lot of interest to see it – it seemed an over commercialized trite tourist gimmick. I must say now though, it is quite impressive. Definitely worth exploring further. . . and in the 3 hours I spent zipping up and down the east side, I only saw one other person.

Did I mention the great riding?

From time to time the roads fade out, and I more or less just cross the desert any way I please.

One of the highlights of day was seeing a roadrunner zoom by. It was too fast to get a photo, so here’s some rock surfing instead.

Found the road again.

Time to find some gas – I only have the stock tank.

I dropped back down to the east and caught up with the main road. I was stuck behind a cattle fence for a ways, but eventually found a way through.

This section of 89 isn’t so bad!

Topped up the tank in north rim and sent a couple emails at the same time. Ahhh, the modern world.

Wilderness? Yes please!

I was trying to take 67 south and find a Forest Service road that would go up over the mountains to the west.

Several times I thought I found the right one. . . . .

. . . . but they all turned to dust. The ground was real soft, I almost at sh*t a couple times when the tires caught a groove.

I rode around in circles for at least an hour trying to find a way through, but I couldn’t find one. As it turns out, there is a 67 and 67a, and I was in the wrong spot searching for the Forest Service road in the wrong place – but hey, I don’t have a map, so whatever. . .

Time to turn around an haul back out.

I came back out on the main road in a different place and got confused. I ended up having to backtrack about 30 miles, but it was beautiful, no worries.

I spotted a dirt road heading north – looked like good riding so I gave it a shot.

It met up with Winter Trail (FS1025), which I took a chance on. Luckily it was a trifecta; great riding, great views, AND it took me where I needed to go.

The trail runs down out of the hills and across the valley. Highly recommended.

I rolled into Kanab on vapors (I had a little spare fuel in my bag though!). I scored a hotel room and a case of beer. I’m not on the Navajo reservation any more, so beer flows freely!

The bike is starting to look used!

More to come.. . . .

Today I just winged it. I don’t have a map of Arizona, and I don’t have any particular place to be. I just headed west based on the sun and hoped to find some good riding.

It didn’t take long.

I believe these were wild horses. The XR spooked ‘em pretty good, they couldn’t run fast enough.

In the mountains west of Red Valley I went exploring for a good view.

I had to do a little hiking to get the money shot. It was more impressive in person. (The rock formation in the middle right is the same as the one a few pictures up.)

There’s lots of fantastic riding in the area.

I had to hit the slab from time to time, but it was scenic.

I wanted to drive in and check out Black Mountain up close, but opted to save time instead.

Get out of my way you stupid cows!!!

The riding was fast out by Pinon.

Shadows were starting to get long.

As the sun set the temperatures went with it.

I tucked in and cracked open the throttle to get out of dodge before it was too late. 8-9 hours on the bike today.

More to come . . . .

I flew out to Denver last weekend and picked up an XR650R to try and squeeze in some late season riding in the rockies. Then 1500 miles offroad back to Los Angeles.

Took it out for a 100 mile shakedown immediately. Had some minor jetting issues and needs a little grease here and there, but a very solid bike. The previous owner let me keep the license plate so I don’t look too suspicious.

A day later I headed out on a 300 mile dirt route to Alamosa.

1 mile in, at 6am – flat tire.

New tube fitted and ready to rippppppppp!

The forest south west of Rampart all burned recently.

The riding is fast and scenic.

I was surprised to find Cripple Creek filled with casinos. Nice little downtown.

The Shelf road to Canon City is a fantastic ride. Very fast, but a little pucker if you come up on the corners too quickly – the road is sheer cliff on the east side.

Coming up on the range I was bummed to see snow. The locals told me Medano Pass to the Dunes was snowed in. Major disappointment. I had to go around.

As the sun went down, the temperatures dropped. The whole day was a bit chilly, but I was freezing making the last 80 miles to Alamosa in the dark. The rain didn’t help either. I tailgated an 18 wheeler to buffer the wind and rain as much as possible. It was absolutely miserable for a couple hours.

After 14 hours on the road….

Overnight snow rolled in…. and persisted….

I had to re-route my dirt tracks to mostly pavement.

Weather was low 40’s and I was shivering all day. I didn’t plan on it being so cold and I didn’t have my warmer gear with me.

The snow made for some wonderful photo-ops.

I was flagged down by a man in a truck while riding through these passes. When I pulled over he said – “I just had to get a photo of the crazy son-of-a-bitch out here on a motorcycle.” I obliged.

I was dying for some soup to warm up, but I had to settle for a sandwich and tea. Slim pickin’s in Charma.

Thankfully New Mexico is a few degrees warmer. Still chilly though.

Weather is supposed to be warmer tomorrow. Time to get a hotel and a hot shower.

More to come . . . . . .

The sailing trip (aka ‘Mancation’) – was a whole adventure which I might relive on this blog at some point. But for now, just enjoy this….