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The entrance road to the riding area at Lucerne Valley, CA must have been designed after a washboard because that’s what it felt like we were driving across at the time. Even with the vibrating and shaking I wished Pat would drive faster so I could ride just that much sooner. We finally picked out a spot that was virtuous enough for us to live on for the next few days, and let me add the pictures do not serve this land justice. We unloaded everything, (well not really everything…pretty much just the DCP_3091.JPG (248468 bytes) bikes and our gear bags!) and set off to ride. Pat explained to me that since I had never ridden in the desert before I should take it easy and ride with caution for a while. I agreed completely, I had no idea what to expect in a setting like this. Well after about 100 yards that warning was forgotten. The terrain there is so, as Pat put it, “inviting” to go faster and faster and even faster. I was concentrating on what obstacle was lying after the next bush and twisting my right wrist more than I had ever before. I heard the wind rushing through my helmet as it made a very low rumble resembling the sound of a train. Weaving in and out of bushes, shifting up and down keeping the bike on the pipe, looking ahead at the rise I was approaching, finding a good smooth trail…those were the only things important to me at the time. I was “there”.

The entire way there I thought to myself what it would be like and wondered if it was really worth driving all that way for. I think my DCP_1627.JPG (248193 bytes) description of my first pilgrimage on the strange land put that question to rest. The desert is in many words… awesome, breath taking, inescapable, serious, quick, exciting, impressive, ravishing, grand, striking, majestic, fast and danger. And just think, we were riding there for nine, yup count ‘em, NINE days! While most of you were pushing pens, wrenches, or pounding the keyboard we were pushing for the next gear. It was indeed worth the drive.

Serious and quick indeed. The entire way there I thought Mr. Dogg was merely trying (along with the constant and unwelcome “advances”. I can’t count how many times he tried to get “handsy” with me.) to indoctrinate me into the music with which these kooky youngsters today are polluting their brains. Some of which was pretty good and some of which was . . . less than good.

Little did I know he was thinking to himself “what it would be like and wondered if it was really worth driving all that way for”. Of course it was worth it. Why would I drive all that way six years in a row (and will continue to do at least once a year) just to ride when I had riding areas roughly an hour from my home? Because it’s 150,000 acres compared to 2500 at most. Because it’s a feeling of freedom compared to a feeling of confinement. DCP_1711.JPG (315953 bytes) Because it’s the ability to take a three-hour, 40-mile trail ride and meet every possible type of terrain (with the exception of mud) that can face the off-road motorcyclist, not see another rider, and still not even touch the overwhelmingly vast majority of the riding area. Because it’s beautiful, majestic scenery and it’s deafeningly quiet. Because it has everything –hills, washes, open valleys, rocks, sand, flat, whoops, rolling hills, tight, technical, easy, slow, fast. And more of it. And because it’s, as Nate Dogg himself said, a breathtaking landscape. To me, it’s simply the greatest place in the world, and no place else is even remotely close.

Thankfully Pat brought the satellite along this year. I don’t know how the nights were handled in the desert in past years but we were chillin’ in style this year watching ESPN, Comedy Central, and my favorite MTV. Every once in a while I would even catch Cindy diggin’ the fat beats found on MTV, bobbing her head in rhythm and snapping her fingers. We had some campfires, but usually ended up watching TV recuperating from the day of riding. After 9:00 p.m. I would climb up the rock hill next to the trailer to get optimal service for all of my pertinent phone calls to various females and a couple of close friends. This is going to sound like a brochure for the Mojave Desert, but I was living the dream life with all the comforts of home.

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