The Wild Wild West

Last minute escape to California. Rain predicted. Yeah right. Got out of PHX before it was bakin'. Through Wickenburg, up to Parker, and headed west on 62 above Joshua Tree. 

Big clouds started to build in the mountains, got some pretty strong side wind, temp dropped a lot, but I never got much rain. It wouldn't have killed me, but on a bike it can feel like a bother. 

I was thinking how fortunate I am to have the cloud cover, crazy cool temp, I must be livin' right...when a movement in the drainage gully along side the road caught my eye. It was moving quickly and silvery in color. Hmmm. My radar was on and this was strange. 

I realized it was moving water carrying sand and silt (hence the color). I've seen the videos on YouTube of desert flash floods and I thought they were fake. Ok, guess not. 

It wasn't a lot of water, no worries, but as soon as I looked back to the road I saw a light color on the blacktop. Drifting sand, cool, until I realized it was more water about to cross the road. Yeah, not good. I knew I could mostly beat it, but it washed across the road just as I passed, and this frothy crap got all up under my bike and in my boots. 

I was thinking this could turn serious as I crested the next hill and saw about three more  washes across the road. Wow. My own desert flash flood. Not a vehicle, animal or human in sight. 

Now we've all seen the news videos of  idiots who drive through the flash flood and gets swept away. And you ask yourself, who does that? Well, I have a little better understanding of how it might happen. I went through about 10 washes, I was careful, but they were getting progressively worse. I could turn around, but those might now be worse too. It was never so bad that I would get swept away into the Colorado river or anything, but if I dropped my bike and it washed off the side of the road, that would be a pain. I was considering the situation when...

Finally a pickup was coming toward me and I flashed him down. He said the road was closed ahead and cars were backed up. So I turned around. Not happy, but how could I ever face a new class of beginner riders again, knowing I was one of those idiots. 

It started to rain hard and I was getting cold, so 4-miles into the turn around I pulled over to put my liner on. I was irritated knowing I'd have to get on the freeway eventually, but I couldn't be an idiot, could I?

Next thing a motorcycle crested the hill coming toward me, and, as we do, he stopped. I told him what was ahead, and the dude smiled. Now if I was a guy on an '83 GS I probably would have too. But I didn't have that luxury. He was gonna check it out, and when I told him I didn't want to turn back, he offered to help me out. Peter was an Aussie from Florida, so I said OK. He had a good look at by bike to consider what he was getting into, so I figured he had half a brain. 

He rode through the washes first to test them out, and turned and gave me a thumbs up that I could make it. I followed his line in 2nd gear, stayed relaxed on the handlebars (there was a lot of rocks, debris and mud), and rode 'em out.  He pulled aside after a particularly deep one, huge grin is face, "this is awesome!"

After about the 15th wash we came upon a snow plow that was pushing mud and rocks off the road! This must have been where the traffic was stopped. We just cruised around him, gave him a wave and kept riding. Soon after that we were headed out of the low area, and the flooding was done. 

We stopped at a gas station in Twenty Nine Palms, traded stories, I told him about HWY2, and off he went. Headed for the coast where he was going to store his bike to await the next adventure. I don't know what I've done to deserve coming across this angel on the road. I'll always be indebted, and I'll ALWAYS stop for a fellow rider. 

'Lil Trip isn't meant for flash floods, and he had a couple of gurgles, but he did me just fine.

I gave him a spit bath under the carport run off when we got to Palm Springs (hey, CA is in a drought), and he needs a chain cleaning, but he's ready for more tomorrow. I, myself, might need a day off.