Putting It All To Bed

Desert Adventures At The 40th Anniversary of The LA-Barstow-To-Vegas Ride Before The Long Trip To End The Year In Baja.

And here we are. Mexico. The trip never really ends, but the chapter called “Road Trip 2023” is over for me. It was not without incident, but that’s what makes for memories I suppose. The biggest hurdle was the Barstow to Vegas dual sport ride I’d been planning for months.

 

More than 500 entries for this year’s 40th anniversary event.

 

Once a race — the LAB2V — this dual sport ride can be done at any speed now. 2023 was the 40th anniversary, so it was special for the long time adherents to the desert racing scene. For me it was more a chance to do something cool and unique. I’ve ridden off-road a lot this year, but I’m usually on my own and heavily loaded down while doing it. LAB2V was a chance to ride at a quick pace with only some tools, spares, and a little food and water just in case.

 

 

I rode down from Las Vegas to Barstow and met up with my friend Yaz. Yaz is a long-time friend and he has also done the LAB2V several times, so it would be helpful to ride along with him.  Along with him was his buddy John, also on a Suzuki DR650, quite similar to mine. In the morning we got to the starting line at about 730am, half an hour before it officially closed and the sweep riders began riding the course to look for anyone broken down or otherwise in trouble.

 

 

Unfortunately, we didn’t have nearly the pace to stay ahead of them and within two hours they had caught up to us. In order to complete the ride I decided to split from my group and backtrack to Interstate 40. Yaz and John rode on to Baker, while I picked up the course at Newberry Springs. It was fun being on my own, trying to follow the navigation line on my cellphone screen while trying to keep both eyes on the trail ahead.

I may be new to off-road riding but I’m a racer at heart and I suppose I just needed to shake the cobwebs out and rip down an open trail for awhile. Long days on the trail are not the same as riding at higher speeds through the open desert. The mind is allowed to wander when the body is wandering down a trail, but the need to focus the mind while riding at speed brings you closer to whatever the particles are in the universe that vibrate with the power of god.

With over 500 entrants the course was a litter of tracks in the sand, grabbing my front wheel like a needle following the groove of a vinyl record.  Keeping my speed around 40-50mph let the bike float on top of the sand and was less work, but required faster reflexes and more attention despite being less physical.

 

I made it to Baker but Yaz and John had moved on to the next fuel point. I gassed up, grabbed some Del Taco (the fast food chain was born in Barstow), and got back on the trail. It alternated between cold and hot depending on what speed I was going and how hard I was working. Fortunately my heated grips helped enough that I didn’t have to put on my winter riding gloves.

At the second fuel point I met up with Yaz and John and we rode at a more relaxed pace, which was great since I was starting to get tired and blisters were forming on my hands. The sun was low and I knew we’d never make the most dramatic section in Red Rock Canyon, but we plowed forth nonetheless.

 

 

Once we got to the highway — which split the route to either ride to the finish line or head into Red Rock Canyon — I waited for Yaz and John to catch up…and waited. And waited. This was not looking good. Fortunately cell service worked that close to the highway and I quickly found out Yaz and hit a rock and gone over the handlebars.

His leg got caught on the way over and he was unable to ride. More specifically, it was his right leg, and he couldn’t start his kick-start only bike. Other riders kicked it over for him  and he made it to the highway on his own. We all rode together into town, to the Orleans Hotel & Casino where the finish line was. Despite some trouble, we had made it.

My man Yaz on the phone home to let the loved ones know he made it. You can’t let a lil’ ol’ broken leg slow you down.

In fact, we even got a wheelchair from the hotel and made it to the awards banquet afterwards. I was exhausted though so called it a night around 9pm and headed back to my friend’s house in town. This was the last “official” thing I was trying to do with my trip this year, so Baja was the next destination. But first, more swapping out gear and repacking.

I took the same ol’ route down to Bisbee, although my brand new tire decided to obliterate itself on the way. The center lugs of the tire began ripping loose even though I wasn’t overloaded, over-speeding, or under-inflated. With less than 1,500 miles on it, I opened up a warranty claim (twice) but still haven’t heard back.

 

 

Either way, I carried on to Bisbee, found a replacement tire from my usual brand (Dunlop has a decent offering of off-road and dual purpose tires), and took a cautious trip up to Tuscon to get it swapped out. After that I just had to unpack and re-pack for my winter in Baja. Amazingly, I wasn’t nearly as overloaded as I expected. Without my camping gear or camp kitchen I had a lot of room left, and in hindsight wish I had brought my DSLR camera with me; it’s been forever since I’ve been able to take my photography seriously.

All’s fine and well though, and the trip down to San Felipe went without a hitch. It took some riding at night, which is sketchy in Mexico because of hit-and-miss road markings and a higher probability of debris in the road, but survived. My casita was as I remembered it from when I first signed on to rent it, and the next day I was already re-re-re-packed to head down and house sit.

 

Celebratory tacos, beer, and shot of mescal upon arriving at my casita. It was an exhausting day, taking almost 90-min longer compared to the same ride on my Indian touring motorcycle.

 

Sadly, that did not go as planned. One of their cats went missing: most likely the victim of coyotes. I searched multiple times in the day and night (sometimes a flashlight glinting off of eyeballs is better than searching in full light) but found nothing. All the fresh cat tracks merely circled back to the house. All the coyote tracks were old and pretty far from the house. No balls of cat fur, piles of feathers from a bird of prey attack, or any tracks following other tracks could be found. She just, vanished.

Not the best start to my winter. It’s not only terrible for my friends, but I also knew that cat well and really liked her. She was one of those cats that was generally aloof and happy doing her own thing, so when she asked for attention from you it felt more like you were being chosen by her and I’ll admit, it felt kinda flattering. It’s the third or fourth cat they’ve lost out there and I don’t imagine it gets any easier.

I’m back up here in San Felipe though, trying to build a rhythm of my own and work on writing. I’ve gotten some work done but still haven’t found a groove, or daily pattern…call it what you will. I have months to do it though. The big thing is to just do work, even if it’s inefficient. Perfection is the enemy of progress. Waiting to have all elements in place before acting is a guarantee that you’ll never act: you’ll just plan and plan and revise and re-frame.

 

Speaking of tacos, my main solace and relief from all of life’s barbs is my constant hunt for good tacos. I’m on an al pastor kick lately, but the birria in this town is something special, even though the area is most famous for fish tacos.

 

The holidays are coming but that’s not really anything to me. It’s a time to watch Christmas movies and make more calls to my family than usual, to keep up on plans for the new year and such. It’s also my time to plan for next year’s adventure. Alaska is the leading contender, as is heading further south into Mexico and not just the Baja peninsula.

I’m also working on another idea for a book. While this current book is really about my travels, this would be traveling for the sake of writing a book…a bit of a reversal. I’ll keep it under wraps until I’m more serious about it; I don’t need a second book clogging the creative pipeline. Jumping from one project to the next is the second enemy of progress. You progress without ever completing. Very self-defeating.

 

Tired horse, tired cowboy. I can relate.

 

Nope, I’ll sit here where the sun is warm during the days and the cold at night can be overcome with a light jacket and a baseball cap. I’ll splay out some maps and mapbooks on the floor and dream ahead, but also keep my head in the game of “now.” It’s a good time for both, what with it being the holidays and all. It’s a time for reflecting on what’s important to you, what you’ve accomplished, what you value and still wish to accomplish.

It’s a time to remember the people in your life as well as those who have left you, be it through change or circumstance or death. The winter has a way of slowing everything down and creating a stillness, which is good for introspection. Too much of it can be called cabin fever, but that’s not something to concern myself with after only a few days in my new place. I’ll keep looking for that groove and — once I find it — I’ll work my way into it until it becomes mundane, then use that as a springboard to action when spring finally comes. It’s a world of open possibility, so long as I remain open to it.