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| Only the Arivaca sky is bigger than this old tree on the Cienega Trail. |
With good reason, I now know.
While the paved roads in the area aren't bad, they only serve to connect you to the labyrinth of off-road riding to be done in the area!
It's not a place I'd ride alone, although I was far enough behind my tour guides to get the feeling of being alone. Mr. J and his buddy Joe took me places I'm pretty sure a girl on her bike have never seen. I trusted them to be waiting for me to catch up when we got to an important turn in the road, but I was alone enough to consider who might be spying on me from the rocky bluff above.
I saw the fence (yes, it's a real fence, and it's made of steel and very unwelcoming), border patrol guards and even a self-appointed boarder guard (who, rumor has it, will soon be found behind a palo verde with his throat slit).
In this remote area are abandoned settlements, grave yards, off-the-grid campers, and... did I mention border patrol? The landscape was vast and surprisingly varied, with the expected rocks and cacti, but also the unexpected streams and trees.
Out here in the desert I put my very limited off-road skills to the test. I made it up one especially steep, rocky hill by staying on the throttle and standing up, but when I got to the top I balked at riding down the other side and had Mr. J take the X-Man down for me. He and Joe were nice enough to insist that I'd made the right decision, and I agree with them. I got a little "sorry about that" from Joe, but I don't think he'd have been happy if he didn't make me walk at some point in the day.
While I preach keeping your head and eyes up to my BRC motorcycle students, for some reason I didn't think it applied to me while navigating a sandy wash that cut through the road. Because of that mistake I missed the actual road and continued through the wash until it ended in a clump of trees. It wasn't until I ran out of sand and had to turn the little X-Man around in the middle of a thorny tree that I realized I'd made a wrong turn. Actually, I didn't make a wrong turn, but I failed to turn, because I was so busy looking down at the sand that was getting softer, and the ruts that were getting deeper.
In many off-road situations it's very important to keep your momentum, and sand is definitely one of those situations! But if you lose sight of the forest for the trees (or in this case, you lose sight of the road for the tracks in the sand), you could find yourself in a thorny mess, afraid to get off your bike because you might not be able to get back on! I stalled it about 12 times trying to get the momentum back to get me out of the trees and sand, but I got it out and I'm very proud of myself for it.
It was one of those motorcycle moments when I felt entirely responsible for my own fate (similar to the sleet that one time in Colorado). Since I wasn't on the road, I didn't think Mr. J and Mr. Joe could easily ride back and find me, so I knew if I was gonna get out of there alive, I'd have to do it myself. Ok...maybe I wouldn't have died out there, but I certainly would never have forgiven myself the pain and embarrassment of having to walk back to the road and wait for one of them to come and dig me out. I had worked up a pretty good sweat by the time I got moving forward again, but I sure learned my lesson about looking down at the ground!
Arivaca was a great trip, and I enjoyed one of the rare moments in my life when I knew I'd had enough by the end of the day! I left Mr. J and Mr. Joe in Sasabe so I could take an easy cruise back to the home base and enjoy the sights (in contrast to looking at their tail lights and hanging on for dear life). It's a beautiful and underrated part of Arizona, and I have a feeling it will stay that way for quite some time. At least until Mr. Trump finishes that fence.
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