David Takes to the Hills

The following is an excerpt taken from David's E-Mail to Joe, a fellow "2 wheel" off roader, after he tackled a snowy Bald Mountain with a few Jeeps and a Toyota pickup on Memorial Day 2003.

Yesterday "the boys" (Brent and Scott) took me on a genuine adventure. I guess there were four vehicles of the four-wheeled ilk and me on my two wheeler. We travel to the trail head at Bald Mtn and from what I've read on the internet, Bald Mountain trail is tame by four wheel drive standards. So, I think, "no sweat." This oughta be fun.

No sooner did I get the bike out of my rig and suit up did I hear a gentleman, who is affectionately referred to as "Rockhead" point at me and remark, "I can't wait to see him make it through the creek crossings." At this point, I am not exactly stricken with fear--but I am more than mildly concerned about what I'm getting myself into!

More than once I heard, "Joe made this trip with no problem on two wheels." I promptly informed them that I have ridden with "Joe" and "Joe" not only can ride circles around me, but I suspect that "Joe" taught Malcolm Smith everything he knows about motorcycling!

Understanding that these Jeeper dudes might have a bias against two-wheelers, I wanted to make sure I was self-sufficient and packed in everything I needed for the day-- 2 quarts of water, smokes, a low-carb snack bar, a jacket, a compass, a map, a walkie-talkie, and some cheese. However, by packing my backpack relatively full, I chose not to don the chest protector. We makes our choices Joe--and, while I don't regret the choice, the chest protector would have been nice--read on.

We head up the trail and within one mile of the trail head I promptly get thrown from my bike while attempting to climb a piece of granite--the likes of which I'd never before seen. To say my dismount was unceremonious is an understatement. The granite hill climb was not exactly the toughest part of the trail--in fact, it was relatively tame. However, I didn't have my rpms up and I non-chalantly hit the hill/rock in second gear--I soon encountered small obstacles that caused me to decelerate and lose momentum--no problem if I was on level ground--but on a relatively steep granite rock, I got slammed into the rock. Well, a sprained thumb, bruises on my right shoulder and hip and a couple of birds flying around my head weren't gonna slow me down--so I picked up the bike and pressed on.

Funny thing about four wheel drive enthusiasts--speed ain't their gig. No, they roll through the woods, up/down hills, and over obstacles at a painfully slow pace. Good thing--because I needed to carefully choose my lines before tackling the granite hills so as to avoid stair steps, fallen timber, large boulders, etc. Scott and Brent and the fellas, on the other hand, searched for just that kinda stuff to challenge their skills and machines!

Well, as if the granite was not enough, we made it into a valley of sorts. The valley was nice and cool. But I soon learned the cool, tree ladened, shady area made the ideal climate for 1-1.5 foot deep patches of snow in May. Even the four-wheel drive vehicles found the going difficult through the snow. You can imagine how tough it was for this southern California boy on a dirt bike! Sure, I was swing arm deep in snow a few times and my tire acted more like a snow-cone machine than a traction making motorcycle tire. I understand I damn near buried a jeep behind me with snow roost at one point!

Oh, I almost forgot about the creek crossings. Most of them were no problem on the bike--but there was one that was particularly memorable. While the others sit comfortably in their posh (ok Brent's vehicle is not exactly posh and neither is his Branch Davidian mobile which also made the trip--thank goodness it did, but more on that later) vehicles, I'm thinkin' if I go down in this snowy, creeky stuff I'm gonna be one cold 230 lb mutha. Anyway, there's this one spot that transitions from 1 foot of snow into what looked like a pond and then onto terra firma. Problem is, as you approach the pond, you've got to turn to the right. While this is possible in sloppy snow, it doesn't always go quite as planned. Fortunately, the kid makes the turn, makes the transition from snow to pond, and exits the pond unscathed and not too wet!

As the snow on the trail continued to get deeper and more ominous, someone had the good sense to call a lunch break while Rockhead and Brent went ahead to see if the trail was passable. Scott fired up the barbecue and cooked up some mean dogs. We had enough potato chips and cookies to feed every man, woman, and child in Uzbekhistan--so I'm thinkin' if we get stranded, we could survive for 3-4 days on chips/cookies alone.

While we dined on dogs and the like, Rockhead kept radioing in with updates on his progress. When he finally had enough and wanted some lunch, he walked back to where we were--I'm guessing he walked about 300 yards which doesn't say much for the progess he made! Brent too ambled back (kind of ominous that they didn't drive back--I guess they didn't want to face the same snow banks twice). Brent advised me that the snow was deeper and probably not passable on 'ol Yeller (my Suzuki DRZ400). Fortunately, as I mentioned earlier, Brent's former daily driver--the aptly named Davidian mobile--was along for the ride and driven by a very nice guy named Brad. Somewhat reluctantly, and somewhat joyously, I opted to load the bike in the Davidian truck and hang it up for the day. Also factoring into the decision was the fact that two well-equipped jeeps and a motorcyle opted to turn back at this point.

Well, we got about 100 feet down the trail when Brad hits an undersnow creek hard and my bike bounces clean out of the truck bed, flips over and winds up hanging upside down by a foot peg on the truck bed rail. The judges gave the maneuver a 7.5, and the Russian judge said he'd've given a higher score if the bike had thrown in a half gainer.

We again loaded the bike, this time opting to lay it on its side. The plastics and brake lever will never again be the same, but I got out of there safely once Scott hooked up the tow strap and pulled the Davidian truck out of the icy slick creek.

Now Scott told me we'd probably be back at the trail head and headed back to Fresno by 4pm. As 4pm came and went, and the sun began to slither off to the west, I wondered if I'd ever see my wife and children again. But alas, we made it to the trail head and started down highway 168 at about 8pm.

It was a very long day--but very well worth it. Excellent weather, challenges, scenery, and good people. We had a blast and I hope you can make it next time. I still tell people about the time you took me riding in Frazier Park and for sheer excitement, this trip has that one beat. But, I still remember fondly the time you were kind enough to take me along on my '84 Honda XL 200 and I hope we can do it again someday.