So we leave Mike's Sky Ranch and soon are deep in the forest, riding single track technical fun. Around rocks, between large cactus and going down. This trail goes on and on. The El Sprockito Grande stops. There is a deep and steep embankment in front of hm, maybe 30 feet down. MacGyver spots a line strait down into a ravine and drops down, I follow. Chuck stops to assist Kevin with getting his bike turned around.
Magoo follows our line after Kevin. However, Chuck was riding Kevin's bike, after they got it turned around Chuck rides a bit and makes a turn. Whammo, the bike is down. The first documented drop although Magoo said something about the Mag-Whoops and bar to ground contact. We all make our way into a very neat area that is likely where the previous NMTrailboss, Paul and Kevin expedition got turned around 3 years ago.
We are back in sync and loving the remote single track. After many miles of techy trails we are on a broader trail inside canyons, heading down.
I feel the Suzuki pulling to the right, something is not right. I look below and see my Wolfman Alpha fender bag hanging to to the right side, dragging the ground. Magoo rides on by, he doesn't know what is up. MacGyver comes by and I explain the issue. We get the pack secured and Magoo comes back. Bruce tells me to go on, Magoo and B
ruce are behind me. I almost hit Chuck as I leave. I remember Magoo saying something about a gate, a cattle guard or rainbows? I ride on and encounter a gate area, in the distant is a village. I pass a guy on a tractor pulling a wagon with weeds and sage. I enter the quiet village, I circle and stop. Kevin has to be somewhere near here. I wait a while and turn back. I ask the rancher, que, donde esta quatro motorcyclists? Hmmmm he says nada, waves and smiles. I go back to the fence/gate area, I wait, I listen. After a while I leave a note and a bandanna on the post, I explain that I have ridden back to where I lost my pack. I ride back, looking for the fork or split I must have missed. Finally after a few miles I return to the scene of the crime, there is even a piece of zip tie in the sand. I go back to the gate area, my note is still there. I blow my whistle 3 long, 3 short, 3 long. I listen. I hear nothing. I am worried, have I been separated or left; voted off the island? I make a spot to lay down near the fence posts, in the sliver of shade. I wait, I blow the whistle again but it depresses me. After a while, I write another note and decide to take a hike back to the last spot I saw my team. I can't believe I missed a split somewhere.
Making sure I walk in the deepest sand for foot prints and I leave arrows made with sticks for someone who hopefully will follow me. I make it back again to the scene of the lost bag, due to a broken plastic buckle I may add.
I return and there is my bike, jacket, helmet and note. I then decide to walk up the mountain side and obtain a higher view. I crawl, climb and hike up massive boulders and then realize. One rattle snake bite here would be worse that spending a night in the village. There may be a farmer that warns me to stay away from his daughter, or his wife???? I come back to the bike, I wait, I laid down and then I paced. I blew the damn whistle again and it made me feel desolated. After a while here comes Chuck. I guess I missed the left hand turn at the cattle guard. They all took off and thought I was in front or in back. It was a near 2 hour delay. But I am so happy to be back with my hommies, I will not loose sight of the gang again.
The slab road that access the observatory is a twisty downhill roller coaster. El Sprockito is way out of sight, down the mountain going fast. We intersect Highway 1 and head south, I assume to our hotel when Kevin makes a right hand turn onto a sand road. We soon smell salt air and get glimpses of the Pacific Ocean. The views are spectacular. We take many pictures, we don't say a lot. What can you say? There is no evidence of mankind, no power poles, fence, cattle, vehicles or shanties.
Post card stuff here. The sense of timeless and lack of scale is obvious between us all. We take pictures, you let your mind roam. We get back on the bikes. Kevin is already on his bike, helmet strapped and the bike is running. Time to go guys.
There are many spots where we stop for a minute or two, we know we will be riding late, in the dark. Our first night is at the recommended and reservations pre-arranged by El Sprockito at the Jardines (Gardens) in San Quintin.
We check in. Captain Magoo was the team banker. At the start, of our trip we each gave him like 10 million each. At that point forward, the food, gas and lodging was paid out of the Magoo Stash, the Magoo Taa. Chris got to work on his Spanish and math and the rest of just ordered more tacos, uno cervasa por favor.
We celebrate another day of living large!
We quenched our thirst (s) and made our way from showers to dinner.
I had a chicken Caesar salad.
oh I forgot to mention the bar lizard lady this night. She was giving me that; "I know that you know that I know, that you could short ..............
Oh never mind, a tall drink of water with legs that went to her shoulders was giving me, I mean us the big eye form across the room. Actually Chuck went over and chatted with her for a bit. She wanted him to marry her or something. I think they got each others email. We met a dude earlier who was hustling us about a soccer team or something. He later was sitting with her as she texted on her cell phone. I think she was doing a Google search for a an old guy adventure wonna be with a gash on his nose.
Or maybe she was texting Chuck.
The bikes were secure.
As Jimmy Buffet would say, I'm living on things that excite me....
But just like a fool, when those
sweet goodies cool, I ate 'til I ate way too much.
Cause I'm livin' on things that excite me,
Be they pastries or lobsters or love;
I'm just tryin' to get by being quiet and shy,
In a world full of pushin' and shove.
Oh what a day. What a meal and a salute to all hands on deck. We traveled nearly 220 miles, an epic day with a mix of thrills and an emotional low of being voted off the island. All is well. We drink another cervasa, we talk about the day, we look at tomorrows ride. I fall asleep with thoughts of sand, of whoops, cactus whizzing by the handle bars. I am tired but satisfied, I know we have only just began.
Day 2 of riding includes scenic beach side views, Mama Espinoza's for brunch and a taste of Malcomb Smith memorabilia, single track sand hell with Oboma heads and wrecks, cactus forest, dark stop for barrel gas and an inland night in Catavinia. Moto trials mecca.