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It was a dark and stormy night. Adam "Gerty" kissed his family and strapped on his helmet to ride 1300 miles overnight from Seattle to San Diego. His goal was to ride sand sand sand. Something he doesn't get to practice in the Pacific Northwest. He rolled out into the rain. And it rained, and rained and rained. Then it got worse. Black of night, raining buckets, and wind driving it all sideways. Temps dipping into the 30's. Electrics on high. Lens cracked open just enough to try to see what he was hurling towards in the dark. Ugh! Personally I'd have said screw it and found a motel for at least the night time. Not Adam. Onward to the goal. 26 hours and 1300 miles later he pulled into my garage, so dam-happy to be here even if it was . . . . . still raining. We donned swim suites, uncorked my best Whiskey and jumped in the hot tub wearing lifeguard hats, 'cause, ... rain. The next morning I was almost done swapping out his Scorpions for a fresh set of Motoz RallZ tires before he got out of bed. A quick oil/filter change and we were ready to go. My bike went in the truck and he rode as we headed to Borrego. At least it only rained a little. Adams goal was to ride and understand sand as it will be a significant part of the GS Trophy Challenge when we both go to the qualifier next year. So we got to W38M camp, set the tents, and jumped across the road to the sand pit. I was very surprised actually as he took right to it. We spent an hour and a half just riding deep loose sand and then headed to the mud hills near Pegleg. There are a few areas there we call "death sand" as big bikes tend to just sink to the skid plate unless you're pretty accomplished. No worries for Adam with a little coaching and trial and error. I was extremely impressed. The mud hills are always fun to goof off on too. Tom Thompson rolled into camp around 5 and I asked him to take Adam out to Fonts Point for the view while I started the fire and prepped dinner. I had 3 each big New York strips that I shoved onto the Adjustafork and doused them heavily in Montreal Steak seasoning. I had prepped 6 ears of corn the night before by slathering them in Tajin butter and rolling them up in foil. I scraped a nice bed of coals to the side and cooked up 3 frightening large servings of Prime NY Strip steaks and tossed the corn in the coals. Bikes, campfires, cold beer, coyotes, brilliant stars, my Moto besties, . . . what could be better?! Sun set on another typically wonderful Borrego day. It's fair to mention that before leaving my house Adam and I fired up the trials bike for a few minutes of random stupidity in my yard. As luck would have it, the silly little bike spit me off the back of my best wheelie to date and I landed square on my tail bone. So I was sentenced to a week and a half of slow walking and lots of Aleve. Adam was sentance to picking up my 1250 for the next few days as there was no way I was able to lift. But fortunately you don't have to walk much when you ride. Sunrise, coffee and sharing tracks for the days adventure! Plan for the day is Breakfast burritos in town, then hot lap it over Yaqi Pass to Scissors, to Pinyon, the Squeeze, Heart Attack, Fish Creek and a quick lunch in O.W. Tom has competed in Trials since he was 10 years old. So it's pretty enlightening to walk a route and listen to how he sees 'the line'. Actually he always sees several lines, but I'm just looking for 'the best' line, especially since I'm favoring this stupid back injury. Good stuff, and we are all having a ton of fun. We walked Heart Attack Hill and noted quite a bit of sand and granite powder on the rock. I noticed a single track that goes around to the right though. It's a tight single track cut into a steep hillside, but it was fluffy enough that one could easily control downhill speed on it, as long as you stayed on it. Getting onto the single track work around, was a bit tricky on the boxers. The cylinder heads stuck out far enough that we had to lean the bikes out around the ROCK to get on the trail. We all spotted each other as we rolled the bikes, so they wouldn't tip into the abyss, then rode down to the bottom. Fish Creek!! MAN! is that FUN!! I had never been able to talk anyone on big bikes to ride this with me (and I do not ride off road alone). Plenty of scenery, awesome winding trail, plenty of options to go wide and explore spots and edges, or just haul ass down the straights. And just like that, we were out. And rolling into Ocotillo Wells looking for lunch. The store across from Iron Door was the only thing we open within reason, so we cooled off, drank up, and ate some frozen Snickers bars while pouring over a couple different maps I had along. We found our way to some more bottomless sand and mud hills. Playtime! We rolled into camp around 4, grabbed our towels and soap, then headed over to the Campground for showers. Then hit Carlee's for Pizza and a couple a well earned beers. Pretty much another perfect day, ending with a sip or two of whiskey by the campfire. Lights out. Next morning we decide Baileys cabin would be the call, so off we went. Up Montezuma, through Warner Springs and up that wonderfully fun Lost Valley road to Indian Flats. North still, taking the ridiculously fun dirt road to Anza (almost). This would be a very low picture count day as we really just wanted to ride ride ride. And so we did. The road down to Baileys Cabin was in REALLY rough shape, and as many of you know, the pitch is enough to make one think about what he's doing, and maybe even wether he can get back up. But fear not, no bikes were harmed in the making of that ride. The sand wash at the bottom was notably lighter, deeper than Fish Creek sand, and it's a pretty windy track, so speed isn't a plausible option. So there was quite a bit of what we call "trials riding" it at low speed, on the pegs, plowing through. Trying to anticipate where the bike is going to be, and getting my weight there early, so as not to lose balance. It's a ridiculously fun game to play, until about your third drop. Then fatigue starts to show and I start looking for terra firma. We snacked and watered up a bit, and made good use of the outhouse which came in pretty handy about then. We continued in a clockwise loop back to "the climb out" and strategized a bit on our battle plan. We talked a bit about what order to ride in and how close so that if I dropped the bike, there would be help within reasonable walking distance for either of them to pick the bike up. Because . . . . injured back (stupid trials bike!). But I let them know the easiest thing would be to just clean it. And so I did. Awesome burritos for lunch in Anza! We rode Lost Valley back south to Warner Springs, .. Ranchita, ... Old Wilson, down Grapevine a ways and circled back to Culp Valley, down Montezuma. We decided to head up Coyote Canyon and see how close we could get to Baileys cabin from the bottom. What a treat that road is! Plenty of roosts up to 60 or 70mph, and then chicany turns perfect for hero drifts. Water crossings for bonus points. We got quite a ways up and the upper gate was open so on we went. Eventually we yet again left the main track to ride up nearby creek beds / boulder fields and then I made a semi fatal error. I got bounced left off a nice bowling ball and my left cylinder head / crash bar hit a very large medicine ball sized granite ball and pulled it out of the wall. Hard stop! Left crash bar pushed back and dislodged the cylinder head cover. Oil started to drip. Hey guys! Rides over! And I lit a shuck for camp in the highest gear possible with the lowest RPMs, waiting for the dash to light up RED RED RED and the shut down the bike when the oil was low enough. To be continued . . .

Living without a bike for a whole month was brutal. No I am not exaggerating. Sometimes you don't realize how important something is in your life until you don't have it anymore. On November 11th I watched my 2014 GSA roll down my driveway and out of my life to make room for the new hotness. For a whole month I stared at an empty garage with no motorbike. Doesn't sound like such a big deal, but it was interesting to me to see how it felt. No instant get away when I needed a few minutes to "reset". No planning or joining group rides. No riding. Taking the car anywhere I wanted to go ..... how weird is that!?!? I couldn't hardly wait for Dec 18, this last weekend to get my new ride. A 2020 1250GS HP. I bought it from a friend and fellow W38M mate. He rode it like I do. Which means there a few scratches here and there but was maintained well above BMW recommendations Barb and Charlie the Loan Dog drove me over to Coolidge AZ where Chris and Cassie were meeting me at Tom Thompsons house. Tom has competed in Trials since he was 7 years old. He has 3 bikes. The 1250 GS HP, a 450, and a trials bike. He was a winner at the 2018 GS Trophy Challenge in Mongolia. Probably the nicest guy on the planet, and just likes to ride anything, anywhere. Chris just bought the new 2022 1250 GSHP and sold me his cast off. It's how I buy bikes and cars. Typically 2 or 3 years old, low miles and running 'good as new'. Cassie was on a 2019 1250GS HP that she has just sold to Dusty. Her new 1250 is currently in the paint shop for some custom paint and waiting for armored hardware to arrive. So all four of us had a little West38Moto ride weekend, on four white HP's, all looking to ride stuff that society says we shouldn't be riding. The only one missing was Dusty (bummer). And my son Adam in Seattle. He has a fairly new 1250HP as well and rides it like he stole it. But he and his wife are prepping for baby #4 to arrive about Christmas eve or so. So we let him off the hook. We arrived in Coolidge Friday night at 8:30, Barb and Charlie greeted everyone, exchanged hugs and then left for Pheonix to see family for a couple days. The rest of us took an hour or so to bolt on some accessories I brought for my new stallion. And then opened the bottle of Celebratory Whiskey I brought to get things started. Saturday morning we were lazy and let it warm up a bit before starting out. 42* or something like that is a bit brisk. Definitely had the heated jacket on and winter gloves. Then around 10am we pulled off the trail to shed a layer as we were getting to Box Canyon and would be working harder on the bikes now. We pulled into an undeveloped camp area where there was one pickup truck and a small camper. The camper had a stack of about 8 or 10 HUGE speakers... like arena sized speakers. They we pumping out this massive volume of Euro-Rasta type music that was very night club ish. There was just one guy, waist length dreadlocks, wearing an old ratty suit coat, that was walking in circles through the sage brush and cactus. We were at least 200 feet from the speakers and the volume was so high that we had to fairly shout at each other to hold a conversation. Truly one of the strangest things I've ever seen in the desert. We headed up this box canyon that was one of the coolest and prettiest trails I've ever ridden. On a different day I would have spent hours there taking pics. Think Titus Canyon. Only barely wide enough for a jeep to get through. And super tight and twisty. And rutted, and ledgy, and sandy. The vertical walls were literally covered with almost florescent lichen that shimmered in the sunlight as you rode through. Watching the bikes braap around the corners up this very tight crack was stunning.. . . . . . . sadly... I did not stop for pics. We had 100 technical miles to go that day and I knew we'd never make it if I kept telling everyone to stop and ride back through this so I can get a pic! Ugh!! We all swore an oath to come back on another trip and spend some time there for pics. I recently bought a Sena 50S as I got tired of being odd man out as the only Cardo in the group. Yes, Cardo is "better". No, Sena's and Cardo's don't play well together regardless of what anyone will tell you. So I was back in the conversation this trip and boy was it fun. Normally, any more than 2 on an intercom is a mess. But we connected all four of us and geeze was it fun. Probably because we are such good friends, and probably in part because so much of the day required focus and concentration. It wasn't conducive to jibber-jabber. Being able to talk in our helmets together as a group all day was fantastic! Not only for traffic warnings, but Tom (leading) could simply warn to "stay left" at the top of the blind corner, or something to that effect. Also nice to on occasion just do a check to see if everyone is still rolling. Chris and Cassie and I had a few 'offs' and 'stucks' but that's just par for the course when we are out really having fun. It's pretty awesome having Tom there to pitch your ideas off of when things get real wonky. It's nice to get off and walk a line with him and talk through your choices, and where you are going to grab traction, and where to drag the clutch, and in what gear. Im always amazed that trials riders just see things differently than us mortals do. I'm afraid I'll be trying to see what he see's for the rest of my days. In one spot I got kicked sideways and had to stop mid climb. It was steep and full of melons and baseballs.... and that was between the ledges. Getting started up hill again can be quite vexing. Even though I fancy myself an accomplished man on the clutch, I kept spinning out. So Tom jumped on and feathered right up the hill though all the trouble, over all the ledges without so much as a single tire spin. Jeeze! Oops. Hey I think that's a starbucks over there ... We rode past dark getting out and back to Toms home. I gotta say, the three of us were thrashed! I ride a lot. And I don't generally get too tired even after 12+ hours on the pegs because I've learned to stay balanced and not fight the bike. But Tom's route had my legs cramping, my shoulders screaming and my hands starting to blister by nightfall. Back at the ranch, we surveyed the bikes and a couple new battle scars then proceeded to kill that wonderful bottle of 10yr old Tin Cup before moving to the actual meal. Sunday mornings alarm went off way too early at 5:30. Ugh! My ol' muscles were screaming at me! My whole core, my deltoids, back muscles, triceps, to name a few were very very unhappy. I felt I'd learned and experienced a few things Saturday and the sore body told me it wasn't just a dream. So packed and rolling before 7, I headed to Pheonix to meet Barb at her sisters house for breakfast and to show off my incredible bike to people who have know idea what they are looking at. Which is fine. I had an hour and a half ride during what I call the very best part of every single day. It's that half hour before sunrise when the roads are empty and your gear is all zipped tight because it's 35* and the snowflake is blinking on your dash. The heated vest and grip warmers are both on high as you roll along that lost feeling highway between the tall cactus shadows and straight toward the moon as if you could catch it. You keep looking in the mirror and then it starts to happen. That amazing orange and purple glow of the sunrise behind you, starting small and then growing until you can see the edge of that massive fireball starting to peek over the mountains. The previous night it was the brilliant sunset before me with the full moon rising behind me. This morning was the exact opposite. The pseudo photographer inside me was begging for a decent camera and the time to stop. The rider in me didn't dare waste a a drop of the few golden moments before they faded to daylight. Both Kelly's agreed to a compromise and I whipped over to snap a quick iPhone pic just for proof that I was there. Again. That the world is still gorgeous and there is peace and beauty in moments if you make the effort to find them. 350 road miles gives one a little time and space to contemplate the happy nuances of a new bike. Is the 1250 really any better than the 1200? Was it worth the money? What don't I like about this bike? Well I can tell you that even on sh*tty worn out tkc80's, the bike is a dream machine. The front tire is gone. I mean totally. The rubber in between the center knobs is worn. And the rear only has 1/8" or less on those center knobs. TKC80's start out great and quickly go to hell on the road. But even so, this bike is so dang impressive. The 1200 engine is a marvel. But the 1250 shift cam is even better. Equally off road and on. Every little thing about the bike is just a little better both on and off road. And for me they add up to a big win. I am ecstatic with the new machine and can't wait to introduce it to all my favorite routes and photo stops and diners. The only thing I don't like about it is the 5 gallon tank! Grant it, one of the reasons I upgraded was to shave off 50 lbs from the adventure model. But twice on Sunday I looked down to see a huge yellow box overtake the whole TFT screen saying "you have 30 miles of fuel moron! Find a gas station!" It doesn't help either that at modern highway speeds that often have 3 digits, the fuel mileage drops to the low 20's. So I guess it's self inflicted to some degree. I saw an Arizona I'd never seen before and instantly fell in love with it. It is truly a stunning place. Now, to get some RallZ's mounted tomorrow and get to riding!