Moab part 2, Dirt Bikes and Snowboards, a Tread and Shred Story

The Trip

The first notable experience was crossing into Idaho.  I haven’t been to one of these states that prioritizes fighting crime over traffic citations for quite a while.  WELCOME TO IDAHO; put your bong away and increase speed to 80-90, and if it starts snowing please decrease speed to 70.

It took me quite a few miles to erase the speed limit PTSD I have from living in Oregon my entire life.  It feels like you are driving way too fast, and then you realize you are gaining 20 miles every hour and it’s pretty sweet.  The weather began to deteriorate around the Utah border.  Temps were dropping, and snow was accumulating on the freeway but everyone was maintaining the 80mph speed limit.  At this point I was driving around 55-60 in a jeep with snow tires, getting passed by 2wd Astro vans somehow magically narrowly avoiding disaster.

It wasn’t until we were within an hour or so of Salt Lake City that the real show started.  The snow was coming down harder, visibility was lower, that minivan soccer mom that passed us earlier was upside down in lane 13…..and people were still going 80.  I like to think I’m a “thrill seeker” headed to a new state to snowboard and ride motorcycles in the middle of nowhere, but this made me feel like I had no balls…. and I’m a very experienced driver in the snow, but these drivers were fucking crazy.

Although it doesn’t look it, the road is completely covered in ice and it is about 20 degrees. Us, “We’re cautious.” Locals, “Send it!”

I felt like I was watching the 250 beginner class in 1999 at a local track PAC-West race…. if you know you know, but that was the exact feeling.  Instead of watching from the sidelines pointing and laughing, I was in the thick of it, getting passed by these careless humans with no will to live or make it to the end of the race in one piece.

We stopped outside SLC at a Chuck-A-Rama buffet which was the destination we had planned all day.  It lived up to its expectations, but it also kept snowing harder while we were there and now we had to turn left and head up into the mountains to reach Park City.

As buffet experts, the RTR crew proclaims Chuck A Rama as the best buffet in the world.

Like I said I am an experienced snow driver. I don’t get too crazy, but I get us there, every time.  As we rounded a turn headed up the hill in total whiteout a gust of wind shot across the ridge we were on, it blew all cars sideways including ours.  A few of the cars around us stopped or slowed down, and a few of the cars behind them honked their horns and sped by at 60, this was absolutely nuts.

Corporate Note: I can assure you this was some of the sketchiest road travel I have experienced in my life. With all of his experience piloting his mobile stage on several national tours and working at Mt. Bachelor, I trust Aaron’s driving with my life, usually sleeping most of the time, but my ass was sucking the seat cover off the Jeep during this part of the drive 😳

Shredding, Version 1, Park City

Finally made it to the exit and our hotel.  The snow kept coming down and was different from any snow I’ve ever been around.  It was so light compared to the “cascade concrete” that we are used to in Oregon.  Stoked to go to Park City the next day I promptly got online and secured the $280 lift ticket…. more than I have paid for any lift ticket ever by at least 2x.

We luckily had a guide for the next day as Park City is one of the largest resorts, it has 43 lifts.  My friend John Lease, which I knew from playing music in South Lake Tahoe years ago, lives in SLC and was going to meet us and show us around.  This was however until we arrived at the Canyons base only to find out due to weather only 42 of the lifts would be open, the one closed being the only other lift out of the base area.

First time ever on really dry snow. No Cascade Concrete at Park City.

So the line was at least an hour long before the resort even opened.  We decided to grab some coffee and let things move, but they moved in the wrong direction.  The line continued to wrap around until it had to have been over a half mile long snaking around up and down and around the entire area.  You could just look at these hollow individuals and families holding their skis(because no snowboarder would stand in a line that long) thinking about how much money they spent and how they are going to be standing there for 4 hours before making it to the front of the line.

The line kept getting longer and longer. Our $280 tickets were starting to look even more expensive.

So we dipped, texted John and headed over to the mountain village side. It was busy, but at least had all lifts running and could move people up to the other 37 lifts.  John met us there and took us on a grand tour of the mountain which was priceless as the navigation is very overwhelming compared to Mt Bachelor or any of the Oregon resorts we are used to.  We also caught up on about 12 years of lost time on the lift as the last time I saw John we were staying at his cousin Josh’s house in South Lake Tahoe after playing a show with their band Idekay, everyone had taken acid and went to Sheeshville for the third time that evening/early morning 10 minutes before I woke up to grab Dano and take off to the next town, in a snowstorm, with Star Wars snow, I hadn’t heard from John since then so glad to see everything turned out alright.

I did end up possibly breaking some ribs at the bottom of the last run at Park City that day.  My boot was stuck in the binding and when I went to pull it out it didn’t come out and I slipped and landed flat on my back on solid ice.  I didn’t think much of it at the time but when I broke 3 ribs 6 months later and they did the X-ray, they noticed that of the 5 ribs that I broke 2 years earlier ina different crash, two of them had been re-broken recently within 6 months and were displaced and re healed then re broken this third time.  Kind of confusing but I broke 5 ribs 2 years ago, then re broke and displaced 2 of those 6 months ago, then re broke and displaced further one of those with two more displaced fractures on fresh ribs.  Anyway I have a weed company called Itchy Ribs thinking of changing it to Broken Ribs.

Finally Moab, The Promised Land

Riding every which way you look in Moab

After a full day of shredding, we both seriously wanted to go up again the next day, but thought that the $280 was a bit steep to do two days in a row, so we took off to Moab.  We drove out a different way right through a narrow valley in the Wasatch mountain range, some of the most beautiful snow covered mountain scenery we had ever seen.  It wasn’t long until we had exited the mountains into the motorcycle Mecca below expanding in all directions with epic riding everywhere you looked.

Corporate note: Our first stop that morning was a Mavericks for gas and grab and go breakfast. If you have never been to Mavericks, you need to go. We have officially given it the RTR best travel mart/gas station in the world award. They make fresh food in a gas station!

The original plan was to camp in Moab as Scott was staying out there with his hand built 4X4 motor home.  It was supposed to be freezing and possible snow though, so Corporate spared no expense and secured us a room at the Days Inn hotel and Halfway House, DIHAHH for short.  I can’t really blame him as on Google it just says “Days Inn”, but when you check in on the sheet you sign it shows the full company name of Days Inn and Halfway House and it totally explains the vibe of the whole place.  Kind of hard to explain, and  not sure if we have pictures, but just visualize “Days Inn and Halfway House” and that’s exactly what it was, complete with the strung out dude in a leather coat behind the counter, the hot tub that has been broken for 6 months, the pool that has no water in it, the un-continental breakfast that cost money, and the rooms that still smell like smoke and cum and sweat.  It was like being on tour in The Athiarchists all over again, I was home.

After getting checked in we headed out to the camp and riding spot, about 20 min away.  We had some pretty loose directions but found our way there on the first try.  The directions were something like “yeah, so about 3 min out of town look to your right as you go up a hill, turn on the road that turns back on itself, maybe I’ll just ride up there, no you got it, just turn there and then you will kind of go down a hill, go for a while like 2-3 miles and look on the left, and we are at the base of the mountain and you’ll see us.”

As we approached the camp, the scenery we were driving through was absolutely insane, so we decided it was a great time to test out the new drone having it follow us into the camp.  Turns out that Drones are hard! We bought a bunch of fancy shit before this trip, but learning to use it all takes time.  The threat of losing a $1,000 drone makes you pretty nervous, but we managed to get a little footage, and it looks amazing.

Danger Dave rolled in right after us as we familiarized ourselves with camp Scottie.  Dave’s knuckles were still white from the UT snow drivers?

Like I said earlier, Scott has balls the size of the extra large cage free eggs, he used those balls approximately 17 years ago to create Fisher who naturally is just an even more evolved and larger edition of the extra large cage free option, shrouded in a thin layer of brass.  And then the large eggs always end up around the other large eggs so Fisher brought his friend Isaiah and when we arrived they were both over sending it in the sand dunes.

The entire crew was ready to go, this place was rad, so we geared up, and set off for a rip.

This is part of the crew. Isaiah, Send It Scott, Danger Dave

This initial ride was such a good intro to Moab.  We were all a bit scared as we knew how sketchy things could get, and this ride was the most non sketchy one we could have done.  Just a quick couple hour loop around some sweet corners and hills and arches and WFO scenery with a sunset.  One spot we came upon a sketchy rock climb and Scott sent it, so I sent it. We giggled and laughed and had a good time and I thought that’s about as wild as it gets.

Corporate Note: I totally agree that Moab is one of the most beautiful places I have been in my life, but I thought the riding was difficult right from the start. I’ve been riding all my life, and I’m not a bad rider, but Moab is definitely an acquired taste and it takes some time to learn what you can and can trust on the rocks. It turns out the “slick rocks” have maximum traction and you can totally trust them. My biggest problem was my bike, a fully set up YZ250f motocross bike, with tons of peaky power, stiff, stiff suspension and an Everest high  concrete seat. Danger Dave helped me turn the ECU down to Old Lady mode and softened the suspension as much as we could. It was much better, but I was still bouncing around on the rocks like a beach ball, and the high seat that is fine for motocross felt like a Death Sentence out in this rugged wilderness.

We returned from that ride jacked up and ready for the more challenging trails,and  that is when Utah and Mother Nature got together and said, hey wyd?

Does it get any better than the entire crew bench racing around a campfire?
It is a lot colder here than it looks!
This one looks colder. Moab showing us who’s boss. Scott’s home made 4X4 motor home in the background.

It started snowing hard as the sun went down, everything covered in white it looked so amazing, and hard to believe we had just ridden in clear skies not even an hour earlier.  We hung out for a bit and then went back to the halfway house all jacked up and ready to get it on the next day.

We stopped in at a pretty insane craft donut shop the next morning.  You see, Moab has become overrun with the standard issue D-bag van lifer/hiker/king of non-motorized activities/pretentious/rich assholes that use their status in society to destroy our moto culture and close our trails so they can peacefully eat vegan gluten free sandwiches and drink Bud Light on the edges of the same trails we used to ride on…. you know, the people who are convinced the world revolves around them.

Anyway one of the results of this is some pretty insane and different high end foods because rich people looooooove their food and their food pictures and talking about food and eating expensive food and analyzing their stool and talking about how great their way of life is and how EVERYONE in the ENTIRE WORLD must be JUST LIKE THEM and eat just like them and get rid of plastic bags and save the dolphins and motorcycles cause global warming and erosion and don’t shit where you sleep, recycle your shit and piss into drinking water and I could go on and on forever about this, so instead of a Dunkin’ Donuts they had a place that was like what Voodoo Donuts ever wished they could be.

Look, I am a stop at the truck stop and grab a Cinnabon or Dunkin’ Donuts type person but the motto of this tour was YOLO, so I sent it on some of the most high end donuts I have ever had.  I don’t even remember what I had but wow, it even made me think for a minute to become a vegan van lifer, but only for a minute, then I snapped back to reality as I noticed a few of these “urban troglodytes” wearing masks outside waiting for us to vacate their gullet stuffing station under the fear these rough looking dudes from Oregon brought Covid with them.  So back into our “trashy” 2022 Jeep Gladiator we pulled out to make room for another $225,000 pre-made stool and piss recycler(this is a real thing, look it up) and got the hell out of whatever happened to one of the most unique towns in the United States.

Camp Scottie, although fairly close to the Hive, somehow filtered out all the “Baggers” (D-bags) and left us with almost total isolation.   Every once in awhile you would see someone in a Jeep or with bikes, or even more strange a random lost jogger by themselves in the middle of the desert. bBoth days of riding, we only ran into about 4-5 people, and they were all on “our team” except for the joggers, you could see the joggers mouthing “fuckingmotorcyclesruiningmygoodtime” as they literally go jogging on marked OHV trails.

It’s almost like the majority of the Baggers were unable to continue down the road, like “Field of Dreams”, or “Never, Never Land” and how you have to believe to see it.  For a minute I was almost thinking maybe there is a God, maybe there is some force out there keeping the Baggers away from the bags (eggs, cage free, golf balls).  Keeping the Evil Vegan Force away from That Which Sends It, and YOLO’s and “Lives Life to the Fullest”, the ones still walking the parade despite being pissed on by people wasting their drinking water(you see what I did there).

What’s great and also so sad about all of this is that Scott has been mountain biking since mountain bikers got along with moto riders, and he also has been coming to Moab every year for almost 40 years.  You can see the amount of pain in his eyes as a single tear drops, like the weird naked Native American(PC) after Waynestock in Wayne’s World 2, as this transition went from the majority of mountain bikers being cool normal chill people to this group of people with an agenda to destroy everything that doesn’t comply with their ideals.  Every year that goes by more and more trails are closed to motorized vehicles, and they never reopen again.  A majority of the mountain bike trails were originally motorcycle trails, they took our single track and left us with two track trails jeeps can drive on, SMD you POS.

I am not referring to all mountain bikers in any way, I am saying that due to the mass adoption of their sport by these baggers with too much money and an agenda, the cool ones like Cam Zink that actually connect moto and mountain biking communities are so few and far between they make up less than 1 percent of the entire group out there.  Which only proves that status quo society is just a self centered and selfish place that will continue to attempt to bend the will of the world in line with their own every single waking moment of their lives.  There are Bagger moto riders as well, but at least the majority of them don’t try to evict the possibility of ever enjoying a motorized vehicle off the face of the planet.

Out and Back!?!

So yeah…..it’s a bummer but we are here to ride so we set out on one of the trails still open, Behind the Rocks. This one is rated Blue by RideUtah.com, so it should be a great first ride, right?

One item of note here with a picture to support it, not sure who pointed it out I think it was Danger Dave, but when I forced Corporate to put a new chain on his bike before we left, I did not tech inspect the final result.  He had installed the chain on the outside of the lower chain guard, making for some crazy noises and weird slack issues during the ride the night prior.  With this now fixed we all felt a sense of relief that nothing bad happened the night before, and that if needed to you could run a chain this way.

Piss poor maintenance!

The ride started out fine, nothing to worry about, nothing to think about, just us and nature making love.  We began dropping off rocks, with them progressively becoming higher and more technical, but all was well, right?.  Corporate was still on his YZ250f, not really set up for this kind of riding, and no shame in saying this but he was the oldest one in the crew at 66 years old and I promised my mom I wouldn’t kill him and I’ve never lied to my mom.  So in trying not to kill him we kept giving him re-assurance that all would be well and “great job” dropping off that rock, see, it’s not that bad, you don’t want to turn around.  This was really turning into something similar to therapy for all of us, how much confidence do you have in yourself?  We came back hardened individuals for sure.

It wasn’t absolute sketchiness until we came upon this section that no camera angle captured quite right.  It was the first section that not only seemed sketchy going up, but is sketchy going down.  This is also the point where Scott nonchalantly let slip that this was an out and back trail…..?

I think I said something like “we don’t have to come back up this, right?”

And he said something like “oh yeah, but we’ll figure it out”

And this is where Scott got the nickname for the day of “we’ll figure it out Scott”

Corporate wasn’t even shitting his pants at this point, he was so far gone in NFW mode that he was actually squatting over by a tree, taking a shit, as to not have to change his pants.  Every single one of us went to him like “bro…..I got you bro…. don’t worry”, it was a real “broment” in moto crew development.

I do a decent job of backing up Scott in these situations as I know him better than anyone else does, and I trust him.  Trust can mean a lot though, when I say I trust Scott I mean Scott would never INTENTIONALLY try to hurt anyone, and hey, as long as the intentions are to make it home in one piece, even if we don’t, the intentions are in the right place, and there is a certain type of novelty you experience in life when you live this way. I have done things with Scott I would have never done with anyone else because Scott never says no out of fear of anything, same goes for Dano with music, it’s real easy with two people for one to sway the other in the “I give up it’s too dangerous” direction, which is safer but it is monotonous, not novelty, and novelty is where the depth of living comes from.

Case and point, I could point to a vertical climb I know is absolutely impossible and say “Scott let’s go up this” and he would say “fuck yes” before even analyzing it and send it before I start my bike, no camera, no social media, just for the sake of doing it.

What are you scared of?  You bought a motorcycle, you drove halfway across the country to ride here….. send it, fear only leads to regret, and you only live once.

So we re-assured Corporate that however we figure out how to get down this drop, we will ride his bike up if need be, no shame, you are 16 years older than the next oldest person here.  Then Danger Dave sent it down the chute that the camera made look completely safe and not sketchy at all.

I had a rough time going down as I hit a tree and lost my balance on the wrong side of the hill, two people holding me up as I had to get off my bike balancing on the front wheel, but I made it down, we all made it down safely and tried to forget about going back up and how hairy it was going to be.

As we reached each feature and dropped down I had a count going in my head of the ones I would have to ride two bikes up.  Then I lost count, and started believing in some sort of higher power.  We finally reached the turn around point and I was able to finally start counting down instead of counting up.

We hung out at the junction of Behind the Rocks and Pritchett Canyon as we watched some Jeeps conquer obstacles we were not willing to forego on motorcycles, which really messes with your head, but it is reality.  We really could have continued down Pritchett and made it, but then would have to shuttle bikes back as we would need more fuel.

Corporate Note: We are fully aware that locals, people that have ridden at Moab a lot, or hard enduro riders can take on Pritchett Canyon, Behind the Rocks and Kane Creek all in one day. Those guys are not on MX bikes and they have a lot of experience with this type of riding. We noticed that the longer we rode on the slick rock, the better we got. You learn what you can and can’t do. We’ll be way better next time we go to Moab.

We turned around and started crawling up the rocks, and made it to our first double send.  I think Fisher was the first one and had some issues… I could tell it was time to perform.  This is where I learned to just send it, because if you don’t fully commit to going up these rocks then you will hurt yourself, and the further up you go the more you stand to get hurt, but you have to just commit and go for it, so there we go, obstacle 1 is done…. 18 or so more to go.  Almost every obstacle required the rider sending it, then 3 people catching the bike and dragging it and maneuvering it up the rocks.

Of all the climbs we were all just waiting for that one bastard to show up, that first one where we learned it was an out and back. It was the climb out of the canyon, the longest and gnarliest of all of them and the one I questioned the most.  Scott just sent it and made it with no help. Seriously, it looked like he used an anti-gravity machine. The rest of us made it up despite the camera footage not making it look cool, but definitely once all souls and bikes were at the top it almost felt like we were done, but we were not.

We came across another lost bastard we had forgotten about, in all reality if it was the first one we would have done it, but being number 18 we decided to take a route we thought went around it, but it, in fact, did not go around, it sent us in another direction and we became lost.  Lost in Moab is weird because everything looks the same, and in between every single point A and point B is a canyon or two you cannot ride through.  We had GPS but even with that it was hard to tell where we were going and ended up riding the same loop a few times.

This is when Corporate went OTB on some gnarly rocks and might have broken his hand.  The timing of it all was just super bad, we were lost, running out of gas, running out of water. In all reality we were still pretty safe, but in my head it’s like survival mode, the chances of what could happen go up a bit even though they are still low compared to what is going to happen.

Corporate was super bummed and I had to do the whole grab him by the collar, shake him a bit, “PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER LAD!”  “We’re not out of the woods yet, let’s just limp this home.”  Giving all new meaning to the phrase “we’re all just walking each other home.”

We made it back to familiar trails and arrived at camp Scotty on fumes.  After some appropriate bench racing, we were unsure if the hand was broken or if we were going to ride the next day.

Back at the hotel I thought I would be nice and get Corporate some electrolytes.  During the time I was gone, Corporate had sharted his pants, washed his underwear in the shower, took a shower, then hung his “clean” underwear on the shower door.  So I walked in and handed him the electrolytes, he said thank you and nothing else, then I had to go to the bathroom.  So I sat down in the dark and felt something on my face, it was this “clean” underwear I just described, definitely leading to a what the fuck happened and what the fuck were you thinking moment.

Look, there’s nothing wrong with shitting your pants a little, I shit my pants just last weekend riding but just didn’t tell anyone about it, so good on him for being honest and not making up some halfway house breaking and entering story involving shitting his pants, a squirrel, and some shaving cream, it happens to the best of us.

We laughed hard about this and he told me not to ever tell anyone, but then he went on to tell everyone, so I tell everyone now because it’s an awesome story.  Corporate is actually the current “editor” though, so feel free to remove this part and save for the book later down the road.  Or leave this in here and show the readers that I gave you the option and you chose to literally just send it, YOLO.

Corporate Note: YOLO!

I woke up the next morning to Corporate designing a motorcycle winch and asking me why I’m sleeping in so long, it’s time to go ride.  Stoked that the hand wasn’t broken and we were still able to ride,  we headed off to Camp Scottie.  We took a quick dip into downtown Moab for some pretentious overpriced food, grabbed Scott a case of Banquet, a can of Fix a Flat, two knitting needles, 4 rolls of duct tape, some zip ties and headed out of town.

Slot Canyon Chickens

Kane Creek was on the docket today, and it appeared at first it should be less sketchy than Behind the Rocks, and it was in some ways, but then was more sketchy in the falling into a slot canyon sort of way.  We took off just stoked, a new lease on life sort of thing.

We had to ride down the highway for a bit, turned onto the trail, off a nice drop we have to come back up but nothing compared to Yesterday, then just kind of weaved through a creek bed for a few miles.  Nothing was too wild yet, but it started going down a few more drops that will take some effort to come back up. No big deal, but then we came to a junction and a sketchy bridge.

Here is a picture of the sketchy bridge, you can see it originally was a wooden bridge that has fallen apart over the years so someone laid some long metal beams across and we’re good to go for another 80 years.

I could start to see the uneasiness in Corporate’s thought process while his stiff suspension kept trying to pitch him the 35’ to the bottom of the canyon.  This is where I’m in the middle, yes it sketched me out, but like I said, I trust Scott, and as long as I keep sending it, I know he won’t steer me wrong…..you just can’t look down.  Slot canyons are a trip because they are deep, but not too deep, just enough to seriously hurt you, and getting out of one if you do survive the fall is going to be very difficult if not deadly, and you are riding along the thin edge over rocks with this massive exposure just to your left.

I just kept thinking about the promise I made to my mom, watching Corporate navigate this while not being able to touch the ground too well, I couldn’t keep pushing him.  This is when we crossed over the creek and came to a flat rock sender up to the ledge on the left side.  Scott had made it but Fisher looped out and Corporate immediately said “I give up, I throw in the towel, nope, I’m heading back, have fun guys”

Being at a distance Scott says “what?”

I walked down and was like dudddde I mean I would totally do this if it was just me and you, but my dad is not into it so I’m going to just go back with him.  It’s so weird because in all honesty I was sketched out and didn’t want to do it, and if it was just me and Scott I would have done it even under those circumstances, but you know, I had to help my dad get back up those rocks.

So we said see you later Dave have fun!  He says, “You know what, you might need some help getting up those rocks, let’s just split it 3/3 here and I’ll go back with you guys, no problem it’s all good.”  This was really a good thing because if we returned to Debbie, Dave’s wife, without Danger Dave with the story it was too sketchy for us we might have been murdered in the middle of the desert and buried where no one would ever find us.

Looking back now though, I know all three of us, like I was saying earlier, if given the chance to send it and you don’t YOLO, then you will be plagued with thoughts of failure until you go and do it, which is why we are going back next year, and will have to see this trail through if the Baggers haven’t closed it down by then.

Corporate Note: This Moab trip hanged my life. It made me realize I’m not going to live forever, and getting out and sending it is more important than working until I drop dead. As soon as we got back, I bought a Husky TE300 enduro bike with soft suspension and a grunty power band. I made it a goal to get to every OHV park in Oregon and begin dual sporting on a newly acquired KTM 500exc. We’ve been riding or Raging to Live nearly every weekend and a lot of weekdays. I can’t wait for another shot at Moab, which is now coming up in less than six months.

Second Shred and More I-70 Antics

We had originally planned on staying a bit longer but we were all super smoked and decided to start heading back.  Going to switch the muscle groups up a bit and do some more Tread and Shred and hit Powder Mountain outside SLC on the way home.

There are so many ski resorts around SLC, I really kind of just picked one that wasn’t $280 a day and had night operations as we would be getting there in the afternoon.  The road to Powder Mountain is one of the steepest grades in the United States, 16 percent to be exact, which is twice as steep as anything I have driven a vehicle other than motorcycles on, it was absolutely insane.  I am now fully convinced that the Utah DOT completely embraces the careless, soulless pin it and prey attitude that Utah drivers have.

It started raining when we got there, but we still decided to grab a $30 ticket and take some laps.  Then it started snowing and all I could think about was the roller coaster ride down the mountain, so we took off pretty early and got out of there.

Smelling the barn, we just started burning back to Oregon.  We got into Idaho and I realized these drivers are even crazier than the Utah drivers in marginal conditions.  Every mile we passed was another car on its lid, and at one point the truck next to us hit a slush puddle and veered off the road into a field. It was absolute carnage on both sides of the freeway in every direction, with tow trucks, police, fire trucks, everything out in full force as the sun went down and the snow came down harder.

We limped into a Best Western outside Boise where we lucked out with a 24 hour pool, hot tub and free continental breakfast.  The breakfast was anything but continental though, it was, in fact, the best food we had on the entire trip, free from a hotel vs paying $40 a plate in Moab at fancy restaurants.  It was truly remarkable and a good way to end such an epic adventure.

By the time we returned home we had already planned the trip there next year.  Six months after our trip 30% of the entire Moab trail system has been shut down by the Baggers paying off the BLM to make up some story about how it cost too much to leave them open.  So what I’m saying is if you have never been to Moab you might want to give it a shot sooner than later, as pretty soon there will be nothing left.  If you are going to go I would recommend the end of March/early April time as it is an off season and your best shot at avoiding mass crowds of Baggers and the filming of a live action South Park episode.  Also that is the time we should be there, and the more the merrier, we need more bags in the mix to offset the Baggers. We just want to ride!

Fear only leads to regret, and you only live once… Send it.

 

About the author

Born in the early 80’s, I have been riding since motorcycles had kickstarters on them. I put in a fairly solid young motocrosser “career” of taking racing seriously from about the ages of 11-21. After realizing making a living in motocross would be near impossible I hung up the helmet and tried my hand at music. Somehow that actually worked and led to 15 years of being able to play music almost every day.