Apache Trail Under A Full Moon

My new bike, X-man.

A couple of weeks ago Mr. J helped me buy a used Yamaha XT250. I've been wanting to explore the endless dirt roads I'd been watching from the airplane window every time I traveled to PHX. They've been calling my name.

Mr. J: "We're going there".

After a week of necessary maintenance,  Mr. J escorted me on my first off road adventure. Riding around in the middle of nowhere isn't the smartest thing for a girl to do on her own, and I'm fortunate to have a willing and able guide by my side. He challenges me to do things I might not do alone, rides his big bike so he won't go too fast for me, tells me how great I am, and we have a good time. Lucky girl, even though I don't believe in luck. 

Our destination for night one was Mormon Lake, and our goal was to hit as many dirt roads as time would permit. We started with Seven Springs Road north of Cave Creek and took it all the way to Bloody Basin & I17. With a

Just Mr. J, Mrs. J, Big Tigger and X-man in the whole world.

late start (imagine that!), and travel taking "a lot longer than I thought", we did a 40-mile stint on I17 to get us to Stoneman Lake road. I was never sure if the "lot longer" travel was due to my slow pace or his underestimation of time, but the full rainbow we saw over the Verde Valley made the interstate detour worth the ride. I began the day pretty sure that my front fender was a sail made to lift the front end, that the wobble created by the knobbies would send me skidding, and that each semi would be my cartwheeling demise. I got used to all that quickly, and by end of day one, I'm all good at speed.

Coffee in the mornin'.

A room at Mormon Lake Lodge, a steak at the bar, a few games of pool with the locals and a PBR or three made the after dark ride to finish the day worth it. I'm amazed at how relaxing off road riding is, was thrilled when I climbed my first rocky hill, and I'm already in love with the views of nothing but nature. This stuff is for me.

No pants, no problem.

Day two was an earlier start and delicious mounds of breaky in Happy Jack. Our goal: upper Rim Road, Young, Roosevelt Lake and Tortilla Flat via the Apache Trail. We got soaked with rain coming into Young, and I got a big chill in my bones. Eight cups of coffee and hot soup still didn't set me right, but when the owner of The Antlers ordered me to remove my pants so she could put them in the dryer, I knew things were looking up. I described the underwear I was wearing (to assure her they were demure enough for public), and when she said "I don't care",  I knew I was in business. Ashley was busy entertaining himself with the white Nigerian he met at the bar and none of the other patrons seemed to mind that I was pantless and barefoot.  I sipped my coffee and waited for the rain to stop, then announced that it's time to go. Off we went, over the pass and down to the back of Roosevelt Lake. 

The stunning view from Upper Rim Road.

Even though we didn't get much more rain, the road was soaked and muddy. I now consider myself fairly comfortable with a little tire spin and movement on the bike, and even though I'd still like to avoid both on the streets, I got enough of a taste to say it doesn't freak me out. Ok, so I never exceeded 30 MPH: I road up and down rocky passes, through mud, shivers and frozen fingers, and along the edges of cliffs. I earned some stripes.

The road from Young was challenging for me for all those reasons, and also because I knew the rest of our journey would depend on it. If I was too cold and tired, dropped my bike or generally lost bodily function, we'd have to play it safe and come home on the highway. On an adventure trip, highway = defeat. And I'm not a loser or a quitter. Smart, cautious and risk averse, yes, but once I set my mind on something, I don't give up.

I felt a big high when we hit pavement on the other side of Young Road, and the view of the back side of Roosevelt Lake brought tears. (Didn't mention that I'm also a cry baby). The view, the warm light from the storms, and the sense of accomplishment was overwhelming. It didn't hurt that the road was smooth and twisty, and after a couple of days of rough terrain, I was comfortable throwing my X-man around a little bit. We crossed a bulging Salt River and zoomed into a gas station for fill up and pow wow. We now had a decision to make.

I took the road last traveled, and it has made all the difference.

I love to think about how a motorcycle trip can be a metaphor for life. You make a plan, and things don't go to plan. You make decisions, and circumstances change. You make good decisions, and bad decisions. You can whine about not getting what you want, or you can find the best in what you have. And most of the time, if you're willing to open your eyes and accept it, life turns out to be beautiful.

That's what we did with our ride to Tortilla Flat on the Apache Trail. It was going to get dark: on a steep, dirt canyon road along a river. With no guard rails. After a rain. It was dusk when we started, and the light and views were breathtaking. As dusk began to fade the sky turned a sultry blue, setting the canyon walls aglow. I was concentrating on "my line", taking every opportunity I could to look down at the river hundreds of feet below on the right, and up at the cliffs hundreds of feet high on the left. I turned a tight corner, and looked up to see the full moon. Wow. We're about do do the Apache Trail under a full moon.  

 
The sky eventually turned black, and the views of the canyon and river disappeared, but the moon only got brighter. We did the longest climb in pitch black, which may have been just as well, because I couldn't see the sheer drop just feet away. Mr. J loves to call me a scaredy cat, but I wadn't scared at all. Just in awe that our trip that didn't exactly go to plan turned out to be an experience of a lifetime.

And now, I'm an off-road rider!

I love it when we're cruisin' together

Big dreams of the next adventure

We hit the road this morning with half a plan and a whole day, our only objective to enjoy our Street Triples, for me to see AZ96 for the first time, to escape the PHX heat... and to have lunch.

Heading up I17, I knew it was going to be a nice day. My Lil Trip was sounding smooth, and my tires are still fresh as a baby's bum, but with a few more grooves. The sun was already high, but we were heading up into the clouds, and I could feel the temp dropping as we climbed.

Mr. J

There's something about having your earplugs in just right - you can hear the sound of the engine, but very little wind noise - you have the feeling of just you and your bike, engine purring, and all that power, right at your fingertips and toes. That's how the day started - it felt like just me and my machine.

Don't get me wrong, Mr. J was there. Usually up ahead, sometimes way ahead. Sometimes he humors me with a little taste of keeping up with him in the curves. Then he likes to give me a taste of what's possible in the curves. That's when I watch in awe for a few seconds before reminding myself to keep my eyes on the road.

Herb & Barbara

We stopped at the Kirkland Bar & Steakhouse for lunch (got behind schedule and couldn't make it to Prescott. Oh, wait...we didn't have a schedule, so it didn't matter!). Herb and Barbara, proprietors, bar tenders, cooks and hosts, are to die for. And her barbecue and green chili rock. They've been married for 59 years, running the place for 23, and Barbara said she tells him every day "It's one day at a time, buddy". I might have to try that attitude myself. We can't wait to go back and spend an evening and enjoy a steak and a local brew on tap (they're also an Inn, but there's only one room with AC, so we might wait until it cools down a little).

After leaving Kirkland we rode one of my favorite local roads, Nowhere to Prescott. Beautiful, twisty road with a smooth surface and every type of curve you need. Heading up the hill we saw some pretty spectacular lightening strikes, and just as we finished the fun part we got a nice cool rain. Perfect timing. Cooled us down, and hopefully washed some of the California sand out of my engine that I'm sure's still sitting there from my last adventure.

Big sky & the train in Kirkland

Of course we met the obligatory road warrior at the gas station. Just rode from CA today to pick up some forks for his bike, and had "no idea the weather was like this in Arizona". Oh, and his phone had vibrated off its holder on his 1980 XL500. I wonder why. So we let him borrow mine and wished him luck.

Off we went, down the hill, out of the rain and into the heat. In the course of about 5 minutes I think the temp rose 20 degrees. Not lying'. But we were wet and cool, and living' the dream in the valley of the sun, so we don't care.

A day full of adventure and no schedule...just big dreams of the next adventures. On our bikes and in life.