Dirt Rider Magazine

What a week (end)! The pics are loading, vids will have to wait, and the write up will take me a while, but this thread is dedicated to the stories, pics and video from this weekend's CalCity ride. I will be coming back to this first post to add more pics and vid over the next week, so check in from time to time. -Paul

I loaded my bike on Tuesday afternoon, packing up all my gear so we could leave early in the morning on Wednesday. Aaron brought his bike and gear over after work:



The loaded truck parked, ready to go:


I couldn't sleep Tuesday night, got up every hour until finally at 2:30 I couldn't take it any more! I took a shower (last one for 6 days) and waited as long as I could before heading over to Aaron's parents' house to pick him up. The plan was to pick him up at 5:00am, but I ended up getting there at 3:45am. I'm not sure what his parents were thinking when I knocked on the door that early, but those of you who have kids know what I was experiencing...like trying to get us kids to sleep in on Christmas morning...it turns out Aaron wasn't getting much sleep either, and he was good to go.

Aaron probably thinks the only reason I took him along on this trip was because I needed an extra driver, thanks Aaron for helping out, I couldn't have made the drive without you! When we left Fortine it was 25 degrees with light snow. It took us 2.5 hours (141 miles) to get to here:




The temperature was up to 30 degrees, but still light snow. The only vehicles we saw so far were two snow plows and a half a dozen commuters. I counted at least 20 deer illuminated by the headlights.

We breakfasted in Idaho, and Aaron took over driving duties (I like to nap after every meal). Aaron has an unending supply of Monster Enery Drinks ever present:



I slept through much of Idaho, but Aaron tells me it was pretty much the same as Montana, except the number of cars on the road increased slightly. We made it to the Washington border (330 miles) in 7 hours. Remember the drive time always includes gas/food stops, and picking up passengers...



We only spent an hour in Washington (43 miles), but it was one of the most scenic stretches of road I've encountered. I have a lust for adventure on the road, so I try to pick routes I've never travelled before. The little road we chose paid off big in the visual enjoyment department, but slowed us down. It was now up to 40 degrees, and the snow was pretty much gone. This had a lot to do with my decision to take a left turn instead of a right turn, and try another new route into:


My poor judgement began to reveal itself pretty quickly as we rose in elevation BUT we were on a more direct route to Sanders' house and I still have my winter tires (with studs) on the truck, so let's see how this plays out...


Uh-oh, not looking good...


At least there's still pavement showing...


Uh-oh, spoke too soon:


Good thing I've got 4-wheel drive:


We hit the end of the plowed road at a summit where the road becomes a snow-mobile trail leading into the wilderness. Aaron debated with me the pros and cons of continuing on, because it was obvious by the map that these snow-mobile trails have to end up back on the road again, and any moron could see it's only downhill from here so what were the chances of getting stuck? Aaron's reasoning won over my impulsive gambling nature so we turned around...


Here's the warming hut at the summit:



150 miles and 3 hours later we found ourselves on the other side of the mountains and pulling into...



David was waiting for us. We unloaded my old Suzuki there at his friend's house and began packing his bike and gear into the truck. We ran out of room before we ran out of stuff, so in true hick fashion we created a luggage rack out of an old piece of plywood and some tie-down straps. We had travelled 600 miles and 14 hours so far, and the temperature was now into the 50's. 50 degrees! And sun, did I mention the sun?! My own personal excitement level was on the rise. We were still surrounded by snow, but I knew it just a matter of time, or miles, before we'd fix that problem. By the way, Sanders lives in a very beautiful area, I'd love to go back some time and go riding there. Lots of open forest to meander through and HILLS to climb! The old Suzuki has found a nice home for a while.

The look in David's friend Palmer's eyes said it all; We were in for a great trip, and anyone who wasn't coming along is going to miss out big time! By the time we left Sanders' house it was 4:30 in the afternoon. Even though I had over an hour jump start in the morning, we had lost a lot of time. It would be midnight before we pulled into Portland (995 miles, 22 hours) to pick Diane up and add her stuff to our already bulging truck.

Speaking of Diane, thanks for stepping up to the plate in the driving department and giving Aaron and I some time to sleep. We crossed the border into California while I was out of it, so no picture. We entered California at 6:00 am, it was still 50 degrees. Aaron and I had been on the road for 27.5 hours. I lost count of how many times we did this:




Diane loves to drive:


Aaron just likes to hang out:


Sanders kept to himself alot:


While I can be amused with the simplest things:


California is like two states in one, so I include our arrival into Southern California as entering a new state. Besides, my Road Atlas has Southern California on a different page than Northern California. We hit the border of SoCal in 1,677 miles (34.5 hours). For me, any trip to SoCal isn't complete without a stop at one of these:


We spotted a cool truck in the parking lot:


By now the temperature was 75 degrees. I slept through the 60 degree milestone, but who cares?! When I left my house yesterday morning it was 25 degrees with snow, now here I am, eating In-N-Out burgers in sunny SoCal on Thursday afternoon. Everything is right with the world again! It would still be another few hours of driving but eventually we came over the Tehachapi pass and saw:


Upon arriving in the desert we stopped to get more ice and any last minute items to fill out the remainder of our time camping:



I took this shot as we headed into the California City area:


When we arrived at the campsite at around 7:00pm it was 77 degrees. Total miles to camp from my house was 1,950 and time spent on road, 40.5 hours. It grew dark as we got our tents set up and sleeping bags rolled out. Aaron didn't bring a tent, just a cot and bag under the stars. My brother David had arrived earlier that afternoon and spotted a Mojave Green Rattlesnake on the way in, so they've evidently come out of hibernation. Sanders set up a defensive perimeter around his tent and headed in for some sleep. Aaron had never seen one before, so we took off into the desert with our flashlights in search of a Mojave Green. The temperature started dropping fast after dark, and I'm sure all the snakes were in bed by then as well, since we came up empty-handed. When we got back to the main RUTS campfire the folks were huddled around it in Parkas, and there we were in our T-shirts! Hellamic and Kevin showed up on Thursday evening as well.

Although I couldn't find one in the wild, I did dig up a couple on the internet:
Here's a link to the Mojave Green Rattlesnake

Video of Mojave Green Rattlesnake

One more, watch yourself!

Friday
First order of business was to tune Sanders' bike. He had a tray of main jets, but the main jet seemed fine to me. What he really needed was a smaller pilot jet, but no luck in rounding one up. Hellamic lowered his needle and this helped out:


Sanders' suspension was hopeless. The shock was toast, and all he had was the bouncing action provided by a worn-out spring. I took it for a test ride and got hit in the butt every time I hit a bump. My advice to Sanders; ride standing up, on the tank, and good luck! I honestly don't know how he managed all the riding that he did on it.

I also test-rode Aaron's KX250. He just spent a small fortune getting it rebuilt (both top and bottom ends, plus suspension work), and wanted my opinion on it. All I could say was, "WOW!" I knew in the first 200 yards he was gonna have fun this weekend! My advice to Aaron; easy does it for the first tank full. (What I didn't say was how hard I was going to work to catch and pass him on our rides!)

We wanted to wait for Daggit, but since he didn't show up we gathered together for a ride to Cuddeback Dry Lake for a little drag racing and the nearby hills for some hill climbing. It was hellamic (YZ250), kevin (YZ250), sanders (YZ250), jack (KTM 450), aaron (KX250) and myself (KTM300). I really wanted to see how my 300 stacks up against the YZ250 in both events. I suggested to Aaron that he wait until his bike was broke in before drag racing across the dry lake. On the way to the dry lake Sanders crashed (endoes) through a big creosote bush, and injures his side. The spark arrestor got bent but otherwise the bike looked okay. We were only out about 1/2 mile from camp, but he didn't want to go back, still wanted to ride with us (could you blame him?). [Note: We found out after he arrived home and went to a clinic that he had fractured a vertebrae in his lower back.] I picked a really cool trail system that led us to a meandering sand wash, which deposited us onto the dry lake bed. I ran up alongside hellamic and clocked him at 81 MPH before he ran out of top end. Jack was next, but I ran out at 83 MPH, but he was still going! I had noticed earlier in the test ride of sanders' bike that his clutch was grabbing, so I advised him to sit out the drag race with Aaron. Those two set up about a quarter to half a mile down the lake and we lined up for the drag. Kevin on my left, hellamic on my right, with jack on the far right side. With the clutch in I clicked into 2nd gear and waited for the nod...

The Drag Race
I have the quietest bike of all four, so had to rely on my instincts to know when to shift. Man those 450 4-strokes are loud! When I was pretty sure 2nd gear was spent, I speed-shifted into third and leaned forward into the 3rd gear-hit-the-power-band-wheelie. I was not disappointed! The front wheel lifted up and I maintained a wheelie for the entire time I stayed in third, with it finally touching down when I shifted to 4th. I had the lead, but could hear that 450 coming on. 4th into 5th. I scoot down low, tuck my helmet. As I go by Aaron and Sanders I glance down and see 83 MPH, 'aint no more coming. But I got Jack on the 450, and just in time. He was winding up to catch and pass me when it was all over. Hellamic and Kevin both had smoking guns, literally! But their 250's were no match for the mighty 300 or 450 KTMs.

If and when hellamic gets a video posted (sorry my helmet cam was turned off) I'll copy and paste it here:

The Hill Climb
We rode up into the hills to the hillclimb over some nice trails, and as we got nearer to the hill the trail got very rocky. The base of the hillclimb is situated in a small saddle between the hill and a rock outcropping. Before I could stop and take my helmet off hellamic was blasting his way up the hill. Looking up this hill you'd think it's a piece of cake. But on closer contact, you find out the sand is softer, and the rock ledges are taller, than you first think. Hellamic made it up to the base of the first rock ledge and stopped. I know what he was thinking, I'd thought it myself the last time I was here, how do you scale that ledge without flipping it? I went next, and hit the hill full throttle in third. There was a football-sized rock hiding behind a small bush and I clipped it with my right footpeg, sending me sideways through the air but I still kept my momentum going to keep it in third. If you drop to 2nd in the sand your attack is pretty much over. The encounter with the rock put me off to the left too far, but I was committed. The rock ledge came up too fast, and I was still in third gear power band when we met. I had wanted to drop into 2nd before the ledge, but it was too late. My bike launched, pretty much straight up, but not over backwards, and I dropped it into 2nd mid-air. The launch was too high though, and I came down onto the top of the ledge with most of my momentum gone. I bogged in 2nd, dropped to 1st and crawled up on the tank. My run was pretty much over now, and I just managed to inch my way up a few feet in first before spinning out in the rocks. I was about 1/2 way up the hill. No matter, I moved my bike off the trail and set up my camera station to film the action. Aaron tried, but didn't get out of the sand section. He barely shows up in the camera. Hellamic makes a renewed attempt, but gets thwarted by the same rock I hit, which by now was laying directly in the trail (Aaron hit it also). He couldn't make it out of the sand section either. Jack didn't even try it, nor did Sanders or Kevin. Here's the video from the hillclimb.

Kevin, Aaron and Hellamic at the base of the hillclimb:


Sanders takes a breather at the hillclimb:



The ride back to camp from the hillclimb was fun and uneventful, although sanders lost his silencer somewhere in the Mojave desert along the way. It was a nice warm-up ride totalling 32 miles. Daggit was waiting for us when we arrived back at camp, so he and his son Tory geared up to join us on a ride to the husky monument. Hellamic, Kevin and Sanders decided to forego another ride, and had to head into town for some reason. Sanders was pretty beat up in his kidney area, and needed time to heal.

Ride to the Husky Monument
Daggit loaned his son Tory's bike (KX125, thank you both) to Diane for the ride. After we took off and about 4 miles into the ride it was obvious Tory was having a hard time keeping pace with us, so he and Daggit decided to ride on their own, and we (Diane, Aaron and I) resumed our ride. After crossing HWY 395 the straight route to the Husky is pretty boring with mostly flat terrain and roads, so I took off to the south and into the Freemont Peak area. We got into some great hills, Aaron stalled out on one hill, which threw Diane off the trail and into the rocks, but she somehow made the hill anyway (good riding girl!). Once Aaron made it up we surveyed the surrounding desert from our lookout. We could see for miles! The climb to the top of the hill shook Diane up a little bit, and she fell at the top of the big downhill:


But she rode down the rest of it with no problem:




Aaron managed the downhill just fine. Back at camp I had borrowed a GPS device with the Husky Monument coordinates punched in and we set off in the direction of the arrow...but the hills to our east looked too inviting...so I veered off course and into the hilly terrain. No more mishaps and awesome trails, I kept us off the steeper and rockier hills. Every time I looked at the GPS device it said we had to go North, but I could swear we should've been going East. I'm not a big fan of technology and didn't know who to trust; me and my instincts, or this little gadget blinking arrows and numbers. I went with my instincts, but shouldn't have. At one point it said we were 2 miles from our destination, but my odometer said we had gone 29 miles already. I forgot we messed around in the hills so much. I turned us around to head back to camp, knowing we'd run out of gas if we weren't careful. We may have missed the Husky, but we had an awesome ride anyway. After we crossed Cuddeback dry lake I let Aaron take the lead, and followed behind Diane with my helmet cam on. She was running hard to keep up with Aaron when the trail came to a right hand bend around a creosote bush. She clipped the bush and this threw her sideways off the trail, but she hung on for the save. Helmet cam of Diane and Aaron

We stopped for a breather at a mine frame, which stands over a mine that one of my forebears managed around the turn of the century. Since it was close to Randsburg, we darted over there and took refuge in "The Joint", the local saloon. Diane bought us a round of beers and we started shooting pool. Stayed there until it was getting late, and folks back at camp were talking about sending a search party out for us, but we rolled into camp before they could get started. We went a total of 53 miles, so I knew both Dag's 125 and Aaron's 250 could go the distance needed for the poker run (or so I thought).

The Camp
Durty Gurl showed up Friday afternoon/evening and that was pretty much it for the forum members. Meanwhile RUTSTERS were arriving all day so the camp was growing:

Kevin and Hellamic setting up camp:



Daggit wrenching on Tory's KX100


Sorry Kayla, something was over the lens when I took your picture, but you were there! I'll post pictures of you riding later.

The desert was covered in purple, lavender and yellow wildflowers. Here is a little bunch right in camp:


My older brother Steve showed up with a couple new steeds in the Beaumont stable, in addition to his diehard 1997 KTM300:


This is his son Weston's new Yamaha YZ250F:


And this is my nephew Brian's new Yamaha YZ450F:


Dad showed up with one of his homemade trailers hauling his Cagiva 125:




Saturday
The Friday night campfire chat ended in a very pleasant night of sleeping under the stars, and Saturday morning was sunny and warm. Durty Gurl's bike started spewing coolant from under the cylinder (not good), so she had to take Daggit up on his offer of the 125 after all. This left Diane (who really liked the 125) without a bike, so her aunt Barbara and Brian's wife Christine offers to her Brian's new YZ450F. Wow. We go through a little training course on how to start it, where the "hot start" lever is, and decide to pack some extra gas for it since no one knows how far it can go on a tank. Brian isn't out yet, and if he does show up, will most likely be driving his truck (Toyota Pre-Runner) around the course. Way cool of you guys to offer this bike to Diane (thank you)! More people kept showing up all night and into the morning, including the Sullivan clan and friends. Here is Sully with her dad Tim and brother Corey:


...so we ended up with over 90 entries in the poker run. The sign-ups ended, David led the riders' meeting. He joked that if anyone broke down, not to worry because he'd be around TOMORROW to sweep the course. Little did we realize how close to the truth he spoke (more on this later). The gas stop will be 53 miles out, so those who can't make it that far start loading up with bottles...


As we are getting ready to ride, who shows up but Karel Kramer and friend:

Karel declines to ride the poker run with us.

The Poker Run
My brother David is the trail boss for this annual event, put on by the RUTS motorcycle club. The short loop was about 25 miles, laid out on open desert with a couple small hills thrown to challenge the beginner rider. We opted for the long loop covering 66 miles of varied terrain including a gas stop at about 53 miles. There were 5 checks on the route, we were to receive one playing card at each check. Three of the checks were inside actual mines. Our "little" forum riding group ended up with over 20 riders. The Sullivan crew rode their bikes from their own camp about 13 miles away. I had the riders line up for a group photo, had to take 2 pics to get a closer view of everyone...




Steve assumed the leadership responsibilities for the group and off they went! After the start, Hellamic and I had to put our cameras away and get going, but the dust had already disappeared. I wanted to video the group coming into Randsburg for the 1st check, so I hightailed it on some fast trails in the hopes of catching them and passing them. I was riding my 300 to the limit, yet everytime I turned around there was hellamic. We did get to town first, and set up in time to film the arrival of our group coming into town and picking up their first card. After the first check I took off with hellamic once again and found a great spot to film the group crossing a sandwash in the whoops.

After this the course came to a turn but several members kept going straight. Tim Sullivan sent son Corey to chase them down, and I resumed my pace to catch up and pass everyone else. I came across Steve and the leading group further down the trail, who had stopped to help Sherri with her Honda that died n the trail. Evidently the valves had given up the ghost and her day was over. Husband Ron left her there with the bike to go back for their truck and retrieve her. That was our group's first casualty. This gave me the chance I needed to get in the lead, and find another spot to take some vid. The others came up on me too fast though so I just managed to get my regular camera out and take a couple pics, sorry no video. Here are a couple of the Sullivan group running the whoops:



Here comes Sanders:



Aaron on his KX250:


DurtyGurl on the KX125:


The 2nd check was at a BLM cabin about 18 miles from camp. Here are some pics:







It was a laid-back kinda day so far, and the pace was easy enough, but it was at this check that I learned Durty Gurl had crashed in the early going, and Sanders was low on gas, even after adding a gallon! This after only 18 miles. So we decide he should head back to camp via the course, and hellamic offered to go back with him. Durty Gurl was also willing to go back with him. No, David felt he knew the way back well enough, didn't want to put anyone out like that. So I told him that if anything WERE to happen, make sure he stays on the course and on the powerline road. In hind sight I know I should have gone back with him myself, or at least insisted he take someone with him. With the riders that had strayed off course we had already experienced enough extra curricular activities to cause some to check their gas tanks and wonder...and we watched as Sanders took off in the direction we had come from video of riding to check #2 and sanders getting advice on going back....then we geared up and took off in search of check #3. This was the favorite part of the poker run for me. I was able to dice it up with Sean on the big Honda XR650, Dom on his Suzuki, Aaron on the KX250 and others.
I don't know who it was for sure but at one point I locked bars with someone in a dusty sandwash as we were flying over the whoops. It doesn't get any better than this!

Under Steve's capable leadership we did find check #3, but not until after we searched a few other mines in the immediate area, burning up yet more precious fuel. Here are some pictures from the mine at check #3:









I took off ahead of the group to set up for more video. I found a really cool little canyon the trail drops into and got into position. (video footage will post here):

My camcorder battery went dead while they were coming through, so I switched over to the digital camera:




The Sullivan group parted ways right after this because they had to get back to their camp. Diane and Durty Gurl were tiring (both had fallen down a few times) and the trail was getting pretty technical with rocks, boulders, sand and more sand. I switched bikes with Diane for the rest of the poker run. The 450 may be a cadillac ride, but it gets heavy in the tight sandwashes and when picking your way through the boulders. I stayed back with these two while the main group took off. We caught up to them at check #4 just as they were leaving the mine. After check #4 the trail went up a narrow twisty sandwash until it ended in a mild waterfall we had to climb up or around. Here is Durty Gurl getting the 125 to make the grade:


We again caught up to the main group after Tom got a flat front tire and Aaron ran out of gas. I didn't see him along the trail, but offered to go back with some gas to help him out. I forgot all about the new front tube, tire irons, and pump I was carrying in my pack, so poor Tom was stuck with the flat until we could get to the Johannesburg gas stop. Meanwhile I burned up some fuel running back to Aaron, who had pushed his bike into a dirt bike camp. They were kind enough to fill his tank for him (he was packing 2-stroke oil), and we resumed the trail together and caught back up to them at the crossing of HWY395:


Now Diane and Durty Gurl were with Tom so I was messing around on the 450 in a play area and looked up too late to see that the main group had gotten off course and headed in the wrong direction. After debating whether to race ahead and catch them I stopped to wait for them to discover their error, but they never came back. After about 10 minutes I took off to join up with them at the tunnel under the railroad tracks, since I knew Steve knew we had to cross the tracks there. Along the way I met up with this little guy:



Once at the tunnel I was again alone for about 10 minutes, took a nap while waiting, and enjoyed the beautiful day in the desert:



Finally all at once Durty Gurl and Diane showed up, riding from one direction, and Steve rode in from the other direction, looking for us, as they had passed through the tunnel before I got there:



The main group left us behind again as we rode some nice open trails on the east side of the railroad tracks. DurtyGurl ran out of gas on this stretch, and we filled two bottles of gas from the KTM for her:


Meanwhile others in the main group were running out of gas and fuel swapping was becoming a common occurance. My KTM gave away over 60 ounces of fuel to other bikes. Kevin had a 3+ gallon tank on his YZ that he was sharing out of. At one point we caught up with the main group after they had stopped yet again to give someone gas. They took off just in front of us, and I brought up the rear. I saw hellamic coming to a stop up ahead, putting his hand up to signal us, and Durty Gurl came to a stop next to him. Kevin must not of seen this and he plowed into the rear end of Durty's bike, which fell on top of her, and then his own bike landed on top of Kevin. By the time I could get the camera out they had both gotten up off the ground and picked up their bikes:
http://i459.photobucket.com/albums/qq319/PaulB14/Road%20Trip/Cal%20City%20camp/poker%20run/th_CalCityTrippics093.jpg">
It turned out hellamic forgot to turn his gas on after their last stop...

Shortly before check #5 the 450 ran out of gas, so Diane gave me the bottle of gas she had stowed away for it. Check #5 was a little hole in the ground and very difficult to spot, but we found it thanks to the keen eyes of Tammy:




The gas station in Johannesburg was just a short distance from check #5, and we were within sight of it when Durty Gurl once again ran out of gas. She declined the offer of more gas from the KTM, and pushed her bike to the gas pump instead:



The remainder of the ride took us east of Johannesburg where there was a nasty hill to go over. A few of the more exhausted riders couldn't make it, so we routed them around the base of the hill. By now most of the riders were pretty tired, if not exhausted. This ride had turned into an all-day event. Dom the Suzuki rider didn't gas up in Johannesburg like the rest of us, and ran out of gas twice on the final 13 miles to camp. Kevin and Aaron helped him out. Just as we were on the final home stretch Karel Kramer and friend show up riding backwards on the course looking for us. They had become concerned when the hours passed with no riders returning. But all was well, and we managed to get back to camp with no further drama, except for stopping to repair Kevin's rear axle:

The poker run was officially 66 miles in length, but my KTM had 75 miles on the odometer when we arrived at camp, and I'm sure the 450 had even more than that.

The Search for Sanders
Once I learned David had not returned to camp that day, I refueled the KTM, donned a jacket, packed some energy bars and a bottle of gas for Sanders and his bike, and took off. I asked Karel to check the south end of the powerline in case Sanders had missed our camp and gone by, only to run out of gas in that direction. I figured he had enough gas to get back to camp, or real close, so concentrated my initial search in the area within about five miles of camp in the direction of the poker run course. I then made my way to Randsburg, with no sign of him or his bike. I followed the course to the valley below and chased two different powerline trails. Eventually I ended up at Check #2 and explained our plight to the camp there. I again back-tracked along the course but turned north at the powerline in case he got lost in that direction, then went east along the railroad tracks he was supposed to cross under, thinking he missed that turn and kept following the tracks...

I came across Hellamic, Kevin and RUTSTER Sonny in Hellamic's truck, and told them where I was heading next; to follow trail #44 in case Sanders headed up that way and missed the turn-off to Randsburg. The sun was just starting to set so I pushed my 300 to the limit as I raced against the night that was coming all too fast. The weather forecast was for a storm to move in over night with cold temperatures making the rain turn to snow possibly. And strong winds. I went out trail #44 for several miles further than Sanders would have had gas to do and turned around. Fortunately I met up with Hellamic again just before dark and he filled my tank with gas, because by now I had ridden far enough out that I might not be able to make it back to camp myself. I told them which area where I would be riding and made my way back to camp. When darkness came I was still out about 8 to 10 miles and found out the hard way my headlight is pretty much worthless. I had to creep along in 2nd gear, and "feel" my way along the trails. Eventually we made it back, and the search parties were organized by the RUTS club members. I had logged over 60 miles on my bike in search of sanders.

By now it was pitch black dark with howling wind and temperatures were dropping. Where could he be, I thought. My mind pictured the worst. We stopped in Randsburg to get the fire department on board, who then notified the Kern County Sheriff's office, who then called in Search and Rescue, complete with a search helicoptor. Meanwhile the 80+ RUTS searchers were combing the desert in their trucks and cars. I drove my own truck to the area east of HWY 395 and north of the railroad tracks, and drove up several trails into the hills and out again, stopping at various campsites inquiring about a guy on a YZ250 stranded in the desert. No one recalled seeing a lone rider in the desert that day.

Just as we were to cross HWY 395 back into the poker run course area we called the main camp to let them know where we were headed. They gave us the news that Sanders had showed up in camp! The helicoptor was called back and the search was over. We drove back to camp very relieved (and tired).

It turned out Sanders was only within about 1 mile of Check #2, but on a different trail than the one I had searched, either that or I had ridden right by him twice without seeing him. He had been stranded all day with a bike that had quit running and was tinkering with it for hours to get it running again. He succeeded in this task and because it was getting late rode back to Check #2 and the camp there, arriving about 10 minutes after I had been there on my bike. The riders there were in the process of strapping flashlights onto their helmets to go search for David after I had given them the details. So they loaded Sanders and his bike into a truck and took him back to our camp.


Saturday Night

Although the wind was pushing our tents over, the skies were clear enough to see stars as I wearily crawled into my sleeping bag in my little tent. Hellamic and Kevin's shade thing had blown apart in the wind and their tent was barely hanging in there. Diane's tent had flattened out so she crawled into the back seat of the truck to sleep there. Aaron was tucked inside his sleeping bag but exposed to the elements all night. It began raining sometime in the wee hours of the morning and I had to move away from the sides of the tent to keep dry. Aaron slept through most of the downpour and was thoroughly soaked by the time he woke up and decided to crawl into the front seat of the truck to finish his sleep. When I got out of my tent in the morning the campsite looked like a war zone. Durty Gurl had abandoned her truck bed and the bodies of hellamic and Kevin were the only things holding up their tent. The rain was still coming down and the wind hadn't let up either. Sanders' tent was draped over his body as well...

Diane and Aaron cooking pancakes and eggs in the rain:


Sanders and Daggit warming up by the fire:


Sully's Challenge
I packed my riding jacket and rain-proof riding pants for just such a day as this. It must have tracked me all the way from Montana, this nasty weather. There were only three takers from our camp for the Sully Challenge; Daggit, my brother Steve and myself. The Sullivans showed up a few minutes after the scheduled time and we took off...ride to the hills, mostly open desert with cross-country travel You may have to wait a little longer for it to load, but you get better viewing if you click the HQ (high quality) button below the video.

Tim Sullivan is an old desert rider/racer like myself, and can throw his big Honda around like a minibike. I had to get into my race paradigm just to keep up with him! But I was having fun doing it. He would stop now and then to wait for the others to catch up, but never long enough for us to catch our breath. He was drawn into the mountains like a nail to a magnet. Following the ridgeline is fun riding, the views in all directions were spectacular as I followed first Sean on his Honda XR650, then Corey on his Honda and finally some simple pleasure riding on my part. So far so mellow. But we soon run out of ridge, and a steep downhill looms ahead! This next video is very bumpy from all the rocks; I follow Courtney down for the first half of it, then pick up Daggit for the remainder of the way down the mountain. The sound is very poor because of the strong winds. Way to go Court and Dag! Oops, there is a little overlap of the last video with this one, where I follow Steve and Corey for the remainder of the downhill, and to the base of the monster hill.

Here we go, I thought, as we began climbing first one hill, then another. And up we went. Here is a video of me climbing the big uphill. The wind was trying to push me over at times, but helped push me up a couple hills. Then the snow began to fall, and the hills started to get steeper. Courtney fell a couple times, and her brother Corey was always there to help her. Or Daggit stepped in. Dad was gently coaching his daughter through it all, and held himself back from helping her too much. She made it up the toughest hill, and then some.
Here is Steve climbing the big hill:


Daggit climbing the mountain:


Courtney attacks:


Corey Sullivan shows us how it's done:


Daggit jumps in to help Courtney:


We weren't out of the hills yet, here's another rocky hill we climbed. In our wandering we dead-ended in a little canyon and had to turn around. Check out this video of another downhill, and how fast Sully rides down it! Her dad says she scares him sometimes.




On top of the mountain:




The view from the top:






When we reached the end of the mountain range with one last hill, the Sullivans and friend Sean had to part ways from us. I took some pictures and we three riders headed back. The return ride was one of the funnest rides I've had in years, led by Steve, then Daggit, and me bringing up the rear. I turned my helmet cam on to catch some great riding/racing by Daggit...near the end of our ride we got on a dirt road where we could open up, and I clocked Daggit's Honda at 72 MPH. The Sully challenge was 29 miles of pure pleasure. Watch the helmet cam video of Daggit. The last two minutes are awesome! Ride back to camp

The drive home was boring and (thankfully) uneventful. We talked back and forth about the rides, wrecks and dirtbikes in general, and the nasty weather left SoCal to follow us home:

Enjoy the pics, videos are coming...

Will you join us next year?
[URL=http://i459.photobucket.com/albums/qq319/PaulB14/Road Trip/Cal City camp/poker run/The Sully Challenge/CalCityTrippics132.jpg][IMG]http://i459.pho

:) thanks alot for taking me Paul it was a lot of fun :)
DavidS

uhhh there OK still sore but ill get by. yes i had a TON of fun though my bike had a couple moments. my crash & not having a leaner poilot jet messed me up the most. if it wasnt for that i would have done alot better. i really didnt notice my suspension that much till i rode Pauls bike then i knew it was a BIG problem!
DavidS

we'll definitely go again next year Rocky, hope you can join us then. It was a lot of fun, and I enjoyed your company David. Thanks for being a good camper. You're bike will be a lot more fun once you change your pilot jet. I can't believe you rode so well with no rear suspension!

Did yall sleep in tents or your truck?

chudsterDid yall sleep in tents or your truck?

tents. I got a lot of pics to chud I will post them tonight.

dang my camera died from ingesting saturday nights rain storm! so i dont have a pic of my attack bush...
DavidS

it was a bi bush chud....about as tall as me till i riped half of it off...
DavidS

ya basicly right through it....i dont even remeber if i let off the throttle before i hit it....
DavidS

haha yep it was...not a good time to crash....i think my bike would have faired better had that not have occured
DavidS

HAHA!! this is entertaining!!
great story so far!

ya i wish some one was to!! i would like to see what it looked like
DavidS

they were good no cosmetic damage just bent my silincer mount....
DavidS

glad y'all had fun! wish i was there, sanders how'd you like the sand?

when did you lose your silencer sanders?

Great write up Paul, really enjoyed reading it! :)

Dang I got alot of reading to do, with all these Cal City threads!8)

maybe we'll find it out there next time we ride by, LOL. I had a great time, you exceeded my expectations Sanders, as well as the rest of the forum. Durty Gurl gave her all, Hellamic gave me a run for my money, Kevin gave me a moment's pause when he climbed the big hill near the end of the poker run, Dag and Son of Dag gave a bike to use for Diane, Aaron gave me plenty of time to catch up on my sleep while on the road, Dom the Suzuki guy (you posted somewhere last night I think?) gave me the best racing (handlebar-to-handlebar) of the weekend, Sully's gang gave me an awesome ride on Sunday, Diane gave me the thrill of being a dad hanging out with his daughter (plus a great excuse to ride that 450). Your (sanders) dad gave up his day to meet us in Pendleton, and you gave me the joy of mentoring and riding with the next generation of dirt rider. Thanks David!

LOL I just finished uploading all the pictures from the poker run onto PB, so now I can start writing about that...

Wow! Great pics, but I gotta take my ritalin before I attempt to read. The pics are too much of a distraction. lmao.

Great pics and write up Paul.

So far so good.

Cool, can't wait for the vid in a few days too!

Paul you had the perfect chance to throw in some foreshadowing but you blundered it!

thanks, I still can't see well yet, going to go to bed early tonight, and catch up on some real sleep. I just finished the write-up for the Sully Challenge, with pics. I can't wait to see the videos...