Barstow Trip Report

Friday, we arrived to our destination in the middle of the Mojave desert with haste. The commute from our little hick town to this off road mecca seemed like the longest drag of our little lives, and impatience with the great state of California's trailer towing speed limit of 55MPH was wearing us all thin. Once we arrived to the main road into Stoddard Wells Recreational Area we turned down a dirt road and began making our way to what looked like a good camping ground... little did we know our trip down the long dirt road would be full of whoops, seems fitting considering the terrain surrounding the area, however, a 17,000 lb truck and trailer battling a 2' deep precipus every 6 feet was interesting. Arriving a little shaken and stirred we planted our jackstands, unloaded, unhooked, and headed off into the night. The trails were lit by the howling moonlight, or, it could have been our HID's either way we were off! Powerline road full speed ahead, a quick right, and after what seemed to be a short trail ride we stopped to top off our thirst.  A lightning speed chase back to camp to prepare for the next day, then the Ruckers hit the sac.

Saturday. Oh Saturday. We wake to a blazing hot sun, skin already beading with sweat, and its only 8am! WOW! Hot day! Registered, fueled up, fed, and loaded we head to the trail head for the Slash X High Desert Charities Poker Run. With 18 miles of unforgiving desert country ahead me and my fellow riders we hit the road, 4 dirt bikes, 4 dudes, 3 UTV's, 3 chicks (gotta love the ratio).  The trail started out a relatively flat trail and a 60 mph blissful ride in the Can-Am ensued, until those damned treacherous whoops grinned their evil grin and slowed my fast happy trail to a more jilted, yet skillful drive. The Maverick was on fire, I beat and beat on that car keeping up with the boys on their bikes and much to my surprise (as well as theirs) I was pretty much always on their heels waiting for the moment they misjudged my relentlessness (or the Can-Am's). The other girls, while not nearly as forceful with their cars or gas petal, were never far behind! The day had a glorious start, the hot wind in our hair, dirt covered grins, and a group of gigantic goofs and good people! What fun!

Saturday afternoon-ish. Oh Saturday afternoon-ish. Evan arrived with Sweet D and the group was pretty ecstatic for another ride so we hurried to unload his car for our run on the second 20 mile loop. Fueled up, fed (yes, again) and loaded we hit the trail head once more, but this time there were no families on the trails with their kids playing poker, no slower traffic to pass, no one really... time to get it on, and we did. 2 bikes for 2 dudes, 4 UTV's carrying 3 gents and 3 chicks. The skill set of the drivers in our particular group is quite fantastical actually, most are very experienced and been riding since childhood, with the exception of a few... but we will come back to that. This trail was epic compared to the previous trail of the day with significantly fewer whoops, longer lines for getting up to speed, an overall better set of terrain to play with, and the views were amazing to boot. The two bikes were leading the way and laying down some distance between the group (again, we will come back around to this). Being the type to resent coming in third the CanAm took yet another hard beating, this car is a restless beast looking to soak up any bump on the trail to keep its passengers comfortable. I am amazed at its capabilities, really truly amazed, there were several times I thought for sure I was going to stuff it into a whoop I took too fast but the shocks grunted down and suspension soaked up every inch of the difficult terrain. Really, props to Can-Am, the car is a beast and takes a beating like Rocky Marciano, you just cant put it down. At one point of the ride the Ham was on the heels of the bikes in front, roaring a sound of ridiculous power itching to pass, I glance down... 70 miles per hour. 70 mind blowing miles an hour.  Either we are insane, or in love with the sport... I say its the latter (or both?). In our gallant battle of bike against UTV we completely forgot, we had others in our group following us... now, no where to be found.  And, now, here's that little tale... 

So you remember me mentioning we have a few inexperienced riders? Well the desert got the best of one of them, Sam, poor thing hit a rut which hooked her tire a way not conducive to staying on all 4 wheels... and after several tumbles of UTV, roll-cage, and tires she emerged unscathed. Thank goodness! Polaris built a very stout product and she walked away without serious injury. In our quest for dominance we completely missed this EPIC wreck, damn it!! The next 3 hours we searched the desert for our lost party members, unaware of the wreck and failing to travel far enough back on the trail to locate our group with the damaged UTV.  Believing they had only taken a wrong turn we headed back to camp, they had two group members who are familiar with the area which made our departure towards camp the smartest thing to do considering we were all running out of fuel. A fast paced trip back to camp welcomes us with a voice mail, several actually, bearing the news of Sammy's tumble.  What seemed like days passed, when it was really only a long hour or two then they arrived, UTV in tow, the Polaris was in bad shape and was completely incapable of being driven. Damaged areas: driver front wheel, spindle, A-arm, shock, passenger back wheel, spindle, shock, trailing arm, rear linkage set, roll cage (all over!), exhaust pipe the list goes on and on... In the midst of the arrival of our broken party I failed to shoot off a photo or two, however, I managed to locate photos for the blog and the RZR is currently at H Town Performance getting a face lift:) Photos to come of the revived machine on the blog soon! 

 

You think that was an interesting enough day? Nope, it seems there is a never ending story being written about our group's adventures and shenanigans. Here is where the night gets real interesting... after the commotion of the day wears off, Sammage licks her wounds (in her case, her sore muscles and raging headache), the other gals in our party proceed to drink adult beverages at a rate faster than the consumption of fuel in our cars... more and more shots poured and inebriation is in the air. I decided to go to bed, Sam followed suit shortly thereafter both of us tired from the work and play of the day. We leave our boys rounding the fire discussing bikes, cars, trucks, etc... all the while the other two ladies were completely outrageously intoxicated and already making bad decisions. Poor Karlee passed out sometime after I hit the sac, and she would likely pay for that in the morning, but Sweet D wasnt done yet... oh no!

 

With the milkmaids, Sam and I, in bed for the evening the boys had decided it was best to head to Slash X for some food. Why cook what you brought when you can eat what someone else makes for you? Its very seldom we camp anywhere near services, which made this a nice change for the boys. Upon arrival back to camp after Slash X I awake to a familiar man's voice, my baby brother, yelling "Evan, someone stole your truck, its GONE!!". BING, eyes open and I'm wide awake! The boys jumped in their UTV's splitting up in search for the brand new Dodge truck and still attached UTV trailer, really people? Who steals a truck and trailer? The search ended after an hour or two of patrol with the culprit of vehicle theft being the very inebriated Sweet D, who managed to get in the truck and drive it to the next camp! LOL!! Crisis averted, the truck was fine, but looking back it sure was a hilarious hour of texts and calls like I was the 911 call center for our camp. 

It seems to never fail we have issues, shenanigans, problems, and crises but regardless of all the troubles there is an underlying fact that none of us can deny: whats a story without some struggle? You don't remember the trips where everything went right, and if you do remember them no one wants to hear about your perfect stupid trip! The trips full of epic failures, shenanigans and debauchery are the ones you will be laughing about when you are 80 years old surrounded by the same friends that helped make the story amazing. The trip where everyone was happy and sings KumBya around the camp fire can suck it when you have a glorious story like this,  now, take that home and chew it... its delicious.