Life Is The Adventure!
Joined: Aug 2005
Location: A Worldly Traveller
Day #5 (Pre-Ride) Day I'll never forget -
Day Five (interrupted): Morning came, I slept well, but I never sleep long (Army Training Sir, ). As the light illuminated my tent I awoke to a new sunrise over the desert,
The sun was coming up but the moon still shown brightly,
Some more early morning pictures:
It was a magical place, I enjoyed it! (Don't mind the beer cans, we picked up after ourselves)
I love those things; especially coming from Washington State where it’s always grey and gloomy most of the time. I was ready for a crack of the dawn start; maybe just maybe we could break with tradition and put a lid on SBR-Time… This was going to be our last day and no matter what, we’d all be back at Casa De Boar to make final preparations, work on the bikes, and make plans to finish the last couple sections of pre-running. Time was working against us, by now, the extra day off at the beginning and the slower than expected pace thus far. We had a race to prepare for. Getting everyone up was fairly easy, getting everyone going proved more difficult. Let’s just say that some priorities were neglected when time was allotted, and now had to be addressed (well not really) but who’s to say… we got on the road a couple hours later than we could have but we got on the road. Leaving RM410 Austin was able to take a few more staged pictures (it's a camouflaged )
(Photo by Ratty2Austin)
before we headed down another whooped road. Crossing a steel cattle grate at the end and next to Hwy 3 we turned West finally and entered a sand wash paralleling Hwy 3. Dean as usual was out front setting a good pace, followed by Danno, then Deano and then me. Running along about 30-40mph, carving through the sand banked corners I could see ahead that Deano had gone down briefly but was back up, and holding the bike up. I didn’t think much about it at the time, I was in the zone. I entered the corner and lost sight of him due to the bushes, I held the inside line thinking it would be a good line to ride by him. Well, when I came out the other side and saw him standing in one track and the bike in the other track, I grabbed a bit too much brake and the trail went from sandy to rocky just like that. I went down hard, grinding away at my helmet and flipping forward of the bike and rolling. Deano, professed to say he was sorry, but it was my own entire damn fault. I got up dusted myself off, but had sand everywhere it didn’t belong: down my shirt, down my pants, and in my boots. My helmet looked like it had gone through a meat grinder, the visor was broken, the helmet cam case was scratched – but did it’s job.
My bike was now decorated with “Baja Tattoos” on both sides, and the steering damper rod had been moved again as well as the handlebars in the triple clamp. Gee’s I gotta stop doing this. I was OK, the body armor was earning it’s price tag and the Leatt Neck Brace had already paid for itself twice over. We got the bike back together and got underway again. The trail progressively got better rolling along next to the hwy and through another roadside dump. (by the way, Sunday is trash day, and Monday is burn the trash day, at least this was Saturday. ) Danno had taken off and Dean circled back on the highway to see where Deano and I were. The three of us rolled into San Matias a small grocery store and restaurant near RM420. We looked for Danno, and figured he’d come back after waiting up ahead a few minutes (we didn’t know Springer was stopped up the road and didn’t expect him to be there) so the three of us got some cold Gatorade and I got undressed on the concrete to knock the sand out of my pants and boots.
When Danno still had not shown back up, we mounted up and rode down the highway to where the course made a left turn to head up towards “Mike’s Sky Ranch”. When I saw Springer’s truck I knew why Danno had not returned. We pulled in, didn’t really need anything, gas was good for the day, but why not top off while we have them. As I pulled up, Springer comes over to me as I dismount the bike, and says “Russ, I got some bad news. Your wife had a miscarriage.” I looked at Jeff and only said, “Top it off.” Springer filled me in on the details of the phone call, (while Jeff filled the bike) and that my wife was with the girls and that Jimmy and Mike had returned to the house. My wife had already been taken to a local hospital and was resting at Mike and Judy’s. My boy was shaken from the events and a little stressed, but otherwise doing well in the care of Dean’s wife (Lisa) and Mike’s wife (Judy). (Thanks you gals, from my heart ). I thought about what all this meant, I thought about my wife, and what she must be going through alone and without me for several days, and thought about my boy. I actually thought about giving the guys my SPoT tracker, and then dismissed that as quickly as it came. I wanted to go now, (I’m a very experienced medic, probably better than some Mexican doctors, and I wanted to be with my wife, nothing else mattered at the time, I knew what needed to be done) I got on the bike and hit highway 3 north to Ensenada as fast the little 530 would go without cooking the tires or blowing up. It was a hundred miles or so to Ensenada, but I never passed a gas station, and then another 30-miles or so to the house. Only in Mexico can you break every traffic law on a dirt bike and not even get a second look from the people or the police (well maybe they didn’t see me). When I got to traffic, I passed everyone wherever I could, the right side, the left side, straight up the middle. I didn’t ride on the sidewalk but it was close. When I got to the two-lane road out to La Bufadora with all the speed bumps (Topass) I either flew over them at 60 lifting the front wheel, or passed everyone on the dirt frontage road along the side. I even cried a few times on Hwy 3, before getting myself in check, I had to be strong for my wife although it was I, which was happiest to be having a second child. I arrived at the house and my wife and I shared a few moments, my son was asleep next to her. I got the comfort I needed from almost strangers a week earlier, that now had become dear friends, they fed me, and gave me a cold beer, and then; I was promptly booted out of the house and told to go take a shower before I could come back. I will never forget many things about Baja, but I will never forget the compassion and honesty in these people. Thank you, thank you so very much. You are my hero's!
The world is a dangerous place to live, not because of the people who are evil, but because of the people who don't do anything about it. (Albert Einstein)