After I had climbed from the canyon and passed through some switchbacks, I hit some fast gravely, rocky road. I passed two jeeps heading in the opposite direction; I was a little surprised by the first one since I hadnít seen anyone all morning. I was clipping along after the second Jeep, when I realized I was about to encounter rock in the road. The gravel road sort of dipped down at the base of the rock road and I knew I was about to have a hell of a jolt if I didnít slow down. So, I started down shifting quickly and braking some; I hit the rock fairly smoothly, but as I started to climb back up, while modulating the clutch, either I didnít give it enough gas or the coughing, sputtering basterd just couldnít stay cranked. Either way, the engine ceased to run and all of my forward momentum was lost; I dropped it.
Gear removal time for the second time this day. I simply could not lift the bike with the big Wolfman bag on the back, the two gallons of gas, and the five or six liters of water, plus the gear in the saddlebags; some of that had to be dismounted before even thinking about lifting the bike.
About the time I had gotten the bike to a flat spot ahead, the second Jeep I passed came rolling up to the base of the hill. I still had gear strewn about the path and at first I didnít recognize that it was the second Jeep I had passed. I ran to the gear to move it and once I did, I frantically waved them by; I hate to be a burden to anyone!
Next thing I know, a younger and older couple exited the vehicle and were walking my way. Turns out, they had seen the whole episode from the switchbacks and had rushed back to help me. I was very grateful for the effort but assured them that the hard part was over. The older gentleman, in his broken, but very passable English was very concerned about me and kept grabbing my arm and shoulder asking if I was ok. I assured them that I was and thanked them profusely. Soon, they believed me and made their way back to the Jeep. They watched as I slung the big Wolfman over my shoulder and hiked it to the bike, then, they turned the Jeep around and were gone.
Isnít it experiences like this that keep your spirit bouyed? I know that most of us might have done the same thing, but how nice was it that they really wanted to make sure I was ok?
More geography pron!:
Wouldnít you love to have been there when these big boulders rolled off the hill?: