I had awaken Jr. to join in, but he retired back to bed, having come down with something.
For lack of rain in the Mojave Desert, ggoja and I met to do the day at Hungry Valley State Recreation Area (aka Gorman). Good thing we went there: the CHP was doing escorts over the pass on the Big Eye (Interstate 5) two days earlier, meaning the soil would certainly be moist for this fine day of riding. And a fine day it was indeed.
Sure enough, Frazier Mountain (8,000') had snow on the sun (south) side down to 6,000', as did most of the north faces of the hills in the park.
As the sun poked above the hills the temps. climbed into the high 50s; an enduro jacket would be a bit much. And the air was crisp as freshly picked celery of the Salinas Valley.
I believe ggoja hadn't ridden with any DRNers yet. He arrived on schedule for his first opportunity, but had to forgo the required donning of the SoCa Wrecking Crew's fucia tutu (Elk still hasn't returned it? When will he get over it?)
In any event, we did the normal big loop thru the oak trees, by the supervisor's residence and track, then onto some of the hidden routes thru manzanita bushes. Most of the miles were on the remote trails to the east of the valley. Traction was surperb, and we had most of the trails to ourselves the whole day.
After a lunch break we decided to see if the trails were open in the forest, but alas, they were closed; the sign saying due to high water (?) and wet trails. At least they are placing a sign these days.
We then scooted thru the twisties on the west side of the valley, avoiding the little trail traffic there on this day. Once arriving at the Tataviam Trail head, it was my duty to show him The Place, especially as I felt safe doing it with company; you never know what might come frorth from the trees, rocks, and hidden spots of that dark and frightening canyon. As I stated before: there is something the rangers aren't telling us, nor is discussion permitted with the natives who keep the verbal history dear to their innear circle.
With such a reputation, we dare venture but a few feet into the deep to offer ggoja a glimpse of what fate waits those who throw themselves over the edge and are pulled in by the reigns of it's callings "come hither". Enough of the subject matter, for I am shaken at the mere thought...
Returning from Tataviam allowed ggoja to lead me on some tight twisties thru even more manzanita and scrub oaks. And with that other fine day had to come to an end. 50+ miles of fine trailing and company.
For lack of rain in the Mojave Desert, ggoja and I met to do the day at Hungry Valley State Recreation Area (aka Gorman). Good thing we went there: the CHP was doing escorts over the pass on the Big Eye (Interstate 5) two days earlier, meaning the soil would certainly be moist for this fine day of riding. And a fine day it was indeed.
Sure enough, Frazier Mountain (8,000') had snow on the sun (south) side down to 6,000', as did most of the north faces of the hills in the park.
As the sun poked above the hills the temps. climbed into the high 50s; an enduro jacket would be a bit much. And the air was crisp as freshly picked celery of the Salinas Valley.
I believe ggoja hadn't ridden with any DRNers yet. He arrived on schedule for his first opportunity, but had to forgo the required donning of the SoCa Wrecking Crew's fucia tutu (Elk still hasn't returned it? When will he get over it?)
In any event, we did the normal big loop thru the oak trees, by the supervisor's residence and track, then onto some of the hidden routes thru manzanita bushes. Most of the miles were on the remote trails to the east of the valley. Traction was surperb, and we had most of the trails to ourselves the whole day.
After a lunch break we decided to see if the trails were open in the forest, but alas, they were closed; the sign saying due to high water (?) and wet trails. At least they are placing a sign these days.
We then scooted thru the twisties on the west side of the valley, avoiding the little trail traffic there on this day. Once arriving at the Tataviam Trail head, it was my duty to show him The Place, especially as I felt safe doing it with company; you never know what might come frorth from the trees, rocks, and hidden spots of that dark and frightening canyon. As I stated before: there is something the rangers aren't telling us, nor is discussion permitted with the natives who keep the verbal history dear to their innear circle.
With such a reputation, we dare venture but a few feet into the deep to offer ggoja a glimpse of what fate waits those who throw themselves over the edge and are pulled in by the reigns of it's callings "come hither". Enough of the subject matter, for I am shaken at the mere thought...
Returning from Tataviam allowed ggoja to lead me on some tight twisties thru even more manzanita and scrub oaks. And with that other fine day had to come to an end. 50+ miles of fine trailing and company.
