Getting Dirty

Susan and I crossed the border into Arizona yesterday and grabbed a room in Holbrook, AZ. Crossing the Mohave Desert stands of Joshua Trees lent strange shadows to the falling sun.






Today we visited the Triassic period Petrified Forest and the Painted Desert. I am too tired to get into details, but I highly recommend both if traveling through the area. The Petrified Forest was ravaged in the 20's by those pilfering souvenirs but President Roosevelt and naturalist John Muir were both advocates for national monument status and made it happen.




Why am I tired? Because Susan and I took our new training on the road, or rather off, and I rode myself right into the ground. Literally. We ran parallel to the Sitgreaves National Forest on a high altitude (6500 ft) dirt road giving access to cattle ranches and Elk. The day was warm at 50 degrees and thawing snow was making a mess. Mile after mile we traversed rutted, muddy narrow lanes crossed with cattle guards. This time it was my turn to be hosed down in a car wash at the end of the day.




Tomorrow we plan on heading into the Apache National Forest staying put on pavement, or
maybe not.

RawHyde Adventure Weekend

Our RawHyde Adventure Weekend video is ready to view. It took some effort to upload. We are staying in the mountains near Lake Isabella and the internet service is weak. I am in a wedding tent placed to close enough to the main lodge to steal a bit of service. We kept running out to check on upload statis. I felt like a wedding guest running away from the crazy Aunt nobody wants to sit next to. I think we are the only ones staying at this resort which over looks a dry lake bed. We did have a great time today enjoying the Red Rock National Monument area and getting extremely tired testing our new skills on craggy, rutty, sandy valley roads.



After much hubbub and planning, we are done. Our adventure riding course wound up with dinner Sunday night which was a special event in its self. One of out fellow students, a wine maker from Mantra Wines in Alexander Valley of Sonoma County, brought in some of his best and a wild boar to compliment a marvelous Syrah. Up at his vineyard they call the event Wine and Swine. It cooked over oak for 5 hours as we spent our last day up on the pegs.

Our weekend group had traveled from Toronto, Vermont, Wisconsin and various parts of California to learn about the adventure riding lifestyle. I think I will like it. The gravel road jutting off a paved state highway will be an invitation (minus a no trespassing sign) and formal OHV (off highway vehicle) trails will lure me confidently onto them. It is not about speed, but finesse. I have learned to ride without relying on my ABS to slow me down to a safe stop. Up hill (very fun) down hill, through trees cutting a course, over small rocks, picking a route through ruts, counter-balancing, falling safely, riding with friends, picking up a 500 lb. motorcycle, hill stops and very tight cornering were only a wee bit of our weekends teachings. Making the jump from street riding to off-road and back again will be personal constant challenge. I love my front brake, that integrates with my back, bringing me to abrupt stops at our bothersome Kewaunee County stop signs. Also, in front of rude deer and farm machinery at the bottom of crested hills. Mentally turning off this braking style to skillfully maneuver the Trans-Wisconsin ATV trail will be my first task this spring. Along with playing in the sand at the south end of The Flying Pig. Don't be surprised if you see cones pop up after hours in the parking lot!

I know I speak for Susan in thanking all of you who have sent good juju for our safe return. Team TFP is on to our next adventure exploring the Sequoia National Park and Death Valley. Quick visits to weather sites tell us not to hurry home to quickly, but we know Pat and Tracy will only last so long before locking the doors of the gallery and house, saying "the hell with this noise", and staying home.

Susan Wins

I cannot say that after 7000 miles of primarily street riding I would take to the dirt. Susan has with passion and I have been both excited for her and fearing for her safety. Well, that fear was nudged along today.

After yesterdays magical tour past the Roosevelt Dam, down the aboriginal path of the Apache Trail which is now a 1.5 lane dirt road, we sent Charlie off with margaritas last night thinking we had done it all. Nope.

Today, Susan and headed into the National Patagonia Forest. Right around Parker Canyon Lake a pickup truck pulling a big ass trailer rounded a 10 mph turn then headed into the next sharp curve right into our path. I had pulled over quickly anticipating the tight fit. Unfortunately, Susan was hard pressed for road surface, pulled far to the right, struck a sharp decline into the ditch and landed just off her bike, which fell at a sharp angle into the muddy embankment. It was all very dramatic and I was very angry at the camping couples crappy curving. We managed to lift the 400 lb. bike from it's 45 degree tilt into it's red mud bath and set it straight up on the road. A bit more effort and we pushed it out of any other oncoming trailers. Deciding to return to Tucson, rather than continue our southward drive to the border of Mexico, we stopped at Sparkle Car Wash and I turned the high pressure hose first on Susan's F650 GS Twin and then on her. Standing in the stall wearing her riding gear I worked the mud right out of her textile suit. Susan is a bit banged up and needs to see her chiropractor. The bike now sports a new right mirror and many fresh scratches. Just like scars, motorcycle scratches are stories to be told.

The bikes are now loaded and we head tomorrow to Castaic, CA. Our class starts late Friday, Thursday calls for sun and we hope to explore the area bright and early Thursday a.m.

Tired in Tucson

We arrived in Tucson Friday afternoon and we have not yet rested. While Susan had new tires installed on her motorcycle I spoke with the dealership staff asking for riding recommendations. T.R, a salesperson at BMW Iron Horse Motorcycles, pulled out a photocopied map of the greater Tucson area including the Billings area, over to Mesa and up to Payson. He highlighted the fun stuff, the same roads formal tours enjoy.

Saturday morning we started out early for the southwest portion of the map. Our first stop was the Mission San Xavier de Bac on the San Xavier Indian Reservation. Continuing south we skirted I-90 on a frontage road until heading westward out of Amado. Things then got interesting. The weeks rain,including 97 mile per hour winds, had caused massive road washouts in the Tucson area. Riding blow the Sierrita Mts on dirt roads we faced lots of running water. Susan, as a new rider, rode marvelously! We managed many overflows until stumbling upon a fast washout being breached by a large 4-wheeler. Thinking of the quick current taking down one of our bikes and not being prepared with tools to pull plugs we decided to turn around, back to Arivaca.











Today, we followed our now trusted map up to the Tortilla Mts. In Wisconsin dirt roads are typically rocky gravel, rutted logging tails or sandy pine forest roads. Today, a hard packed smooth surface invited us onto roads which are traveled, by the experienced, in excess of 100 miles. Again, we rode up on washout after washout poking our way around the ruts and rocks to stay on course. Much of what we experienced today is why we are traveling to California and The Rawhyde Adventures class. Even after exhausting ourselves off-road, we hit the Apache Trail and rode to Tortilla Flats outside of Mesa. The area is full of mining lore and tourism. Hollywood studio style ghost towns line Hwy 88 leading up into the mountains. The switchbacks were auto and Harley filled. When we reached our lunch destination (after 3:00 pm) we realized it was too late for a meal since we had 140 miles back to Tucson. Hwy 88 out of Tortilla Flats, a dirt road, was closed and people stood around and took pictures of the flowing water. The day before we drove through much worse! Tomorrow, Charlie's last day with us before he heads home to Wisconsin, we will approach the same spot from around the back of the mountain, eventually reaching our now favorite dirt roads for some more play.

A White Day

Again, the days plans were reorganized over breakfast. Silver City was still under threat of precipitation so we chose a ride back towards Roswell on Hwy 70, one of New Mexico's Scenic Byways. Snow may lie on the roadsides, but Accuweather (an oxymoron we are learning) called for clear skies.

First, we stopped at White Sands National Monument: A high elevation desert formed inch by inch by gypsum particles. Since our riding suits make us look like snowmobilers we felt right at home. Our brains kept telling us, "Careful! Snow!" yet we rode solid on a sticky sand surface.

Later deciding against the lower elevations of Hwy 70, we turned off in Alamogordo heading west on Hwy 82. The Sacramento Mountains' roads were stupendous with gentle curves, a tunnel and minimal traffic until the temperatures dropped and elevations rose. At 8400 ft. snow filled the roadside leaving no turnoff. Arriving in Cloudcroft at 8650 ft. we pulled into a gas station and I promptly lost my bike to the slushy snow. My motorcycle slipped out from under me and tossed me into a Chevron pump. The station was packed with people eager to fill up before the impending storm: A storm we knew nothing about because Accuweather missed it completely 2 hours before. Susan helped me lift my bike, Charlie chatted up a local who recommended heading from whence we came. Good advice it turns out. Temps dropped to freezing and it began to snow in minutes. Snow plows idled roadside, big orange sentries ready for battle.

Arriving back to our now familiar La Quinta on Avenida de La Mesilla we loaded up the bikes for our morning drive to Tucson. First stop is two new tires for Susan. Charlie encouraged us to intentionally pierce one of her tires so we could practice with our plugging kit. Next a valve job.



Before heading out for dinner we went in search of a sculpture spotted off I-10 the day before. We discovered a roadrunner fashioned from reclaimed materials. The huge bird stands high above Las Cruces seeming to watch the sunset each evening. Susan and I glanced at each other knowing we shared the same thought...a flying pig.

Riding with Gusts-o

Our trip to Gila Cliff Dwellings never happened. The morning of our ride the weather forecast was bleak with rain and snow in the higher elevations. I quickly rerouted ourselves eastbound to Carlsbad Caverns National Park.














The trip to and from Carlsbad drove us across the salt flats of the Texas Panhandle. When reviewing that days weather we missed the National Weather Services warning of high winds in the greater El Paso area. Already known for brisk breezes, the winds became ruthless when crossing the flats and over the Guadalupe Pass. Susan claims her bike tires skipped a beat off the pavement a time or two and was moved into the left lane more than once. Observing Susan, Charlie was able to anticipate necessary actions and counter steer into the gusts. The wind was so fierce it kept activating our intercom system when blowing into and under our helmets. Lake Michigan delivers major wind gusts, but in Texas there are no tree lines acting as natural breaks. It was a new experience for me.

Another stress during our ride into the Carlsbad area was a low petro alert. Having used an extra gallon of fuel (or 2) playing Anthony Hopkins role in The Fastest Indian, I tried to set a new land speed record on a motorcycle. I didn't and I sheepishly hobbled into the next gas station under the speed limit in an effort to preserve gas.

After arriving at the park we spent over an hour hours exploring the main room of the limestone caverns. Entering a space the size of 14 football fields, a narrow walkway led us through multi-layered formations of amazement. There are miles of explores caves and much more yet to be closely documented. I will not even try to explain the experience, only to encourage you to visit. It rendered me speechless (which to those who know me says a lot). The caverns were photographed by Ansel Adams in---and explored by National Geographic in 1924. That is a picture of a ladder they left behind...that goes into a bottomless pit! Thanks to Mary ---at Main Street Artworks in Hilbert for the lead on this place!


That was yesterday. Today, Wednesday January 20th, we assessed the weather over breakfast and choose south, then west. Columbus, NM is an entry point with Mexico. We rode to the border then jumped onto Hwy 9 up to the Arizona border. 90% of the vehicles we passed were white Border Patrol vehicles. A trail of historical markers created frequent stops allowing us to stretch during the 100 mile border ride. Charlie knew a lot about the railroads, bandits and wars depicted: I thought the skies real pretty.

These last few days we have traversed 900 miles of southern New Mexico. We may, or may not, move onto the Tucson area in the morning. If weather keeps us parked in Las Cruces we will try riding to Silver City and onto the Gila Cliff Dwellings. A friendly guy at the gas station told me Silver City had seven inches of snow last night. I am hoping for clear roads, white banks and lots of weather talk with the locals over lunch.

Susan and I have found a couple slots in next weekends dual-sport riding class in Castaic, CA. Charlie will move on to Tucson with us for the weekend, heading back to Wisconsin early next week. We have all been very patient with Mother Nature's pacific coast tantrum by finding a new day, each day.

Update: Rain in Silver City. May head to Ruidoso Downs and the Capitan Mountains. Morning weather will determine.

Blogging and Brushing

As I type, I am clamped tight on a mouthful of toothpaste hoping not to grout the spaces between the keys of Susan's mac. I have had a very long, wonderful and eventful day and we plan to be back on our motorcycle seats at 8am. I wanted to quick key-up our last few days before I get any further behind in journaling our trip, so, I am multi-tasking.

After covering 1600 miles in our first two days of travel I learned three things : A Cargill feedlot in the panhandle of Texas scares the bejesus out of me. I do not want to eat anything that comes off that grotesque fecal ground zero. Second, a person ate a 72 oz. steak in just over 8 minutes. Third, as I suspected, Aliens do own Walmart. Their success is due to mass hypnosis on a global scale done from outerspace.

On to day three, today, and our 200 mile ride in the shadows of the mountains surrounding Las Cruces, NM. After hearing this morning that our motorcycle class in Castaic, CA has been canceled due to Mother Nature's liquid deluge being dumped into southern California, we arranged for a few more nights lodging and rolled our bikes into a LaQuinta parking lot. We are settled in.

Following large plates of heuvos rancheros this morning, Charlie, Susan and I headed north across low cattle country passing by Lake Valley, an old mining ghost town, and into Hillsboro with the intentions of crossing through Emory Pass on our way to the Gila Cliff Dwellings. Unfortunately, the pacific coast mayhem overshot it's course and left us with enough precipitation to cause fret. Emory Pass is at 8,228 ft and the locals in the diner serving us a lunch, ending in Bumbleberry pie, warned us off our westerly intent.



I am thankful for the black skies. While rerouting our travel direction we overshot our hotel-ward course and discovered Rock hound State Park. A roundabout county round surrounding one lone snow peak. To our dismay the road had closed at 4pm, but it also gave us tomorrows morning destination. Just before we arrived to the closed park gates we peaked a steep hill which left everything to the imagination as to what lay on the the other side. The sharp descent was quickly followed by two 10mph turns. Shutting off our bikes and turning back to look towards Las Cruces, we all three knew where we would be tomorrow.