A KDX200 had just vanished before my eyes, 30 feet in front of me! I nervously krept forward on my little KTM, through the frozen ravine. The moment of truth was upon me. In front was a sheer drop off of frozen sand and rock. Behind was an anxious KTM400SX prodding at my rear wheel like a pirate forcing me to walk the plank. I realized that there was only one way to go. Yes, I've been to the edge, and then I stood and looked down...
I arrived in Reno on Friday 12/21/01. I was meeting my friend Tim, a very fast B rider, at his house, where he was kind enough to let me stay. I was greated with a cold beer and hot pizza and an extremely hospitable family. We planned out saturdays ride and turned in.
On saturday morning, we loaded up and headed over to meet one of Tims friends, Devon. He was having trouble getting his XR600 running right, but he quickly got it sorted out. We then drove out to the Moonrocks. The ground was in perfect condition at the parking area. We got ready and headed out on a long uphill singletrack. I kept my 200 reving high to keep up with the big thumpers I was with. We climbed high enough to encounter our first major obstacle, a 1 to 2 foot deep snow drift on a tricky downhill. Tim bravely or blindly lead us down. Two thirds of the way down, his front wheel augered into a hidden hole and pitched him off. Luckily, Tim had cleared a path for us to follow. At the bottom, we regrouped and headed out. The rest of the day included tons of fast slippery riding. Snow blocked us from many of the high trails but there was plenty of great dirt to be found anyway. As we headed back to the truck to refule, we hit a great singletrack that saw all 3 of us dicing for positions with no more than 20 ft seperating us all. This was as fun as riding gets.
After refueling, Tim and I headed out for another loop. He let me leed for awhile, and I promptly headed for the skinniest trail I could find. The trail got steeper and narrower as we went. It was about half dirt and half snow and ice. I careened down the trail on the brink of disaster the whole way. At the bottom, Tim complimented my handling of the trail. As much as I wanted to tell him that I had mastered my snow and ice riding ability in California at 250 ft above sea level, I gave in and admitted that I was unable to stop. Whenever I hit the brakes, I would speed up! After a short rest, we headed back to the truck and then home to thaw out.
After a relaxing night Saturday, and a great pasta dinner prepared by Tims wife, we woke up with sore shoulders and realized there was a couple inches of fresh snow on the ground Sunday morning. We weren't about to let that stop us. The snow began to melt quickly, and our spirits were high. We again met Devon and met up with another friend,Barry, at Moonrocks. Sunday was cold, but with the proper clothing, it wasn't too bad. We all headed out and into the snow. The snow was not deep at all, and the traction was amazingly good. We were moving fast on a series of single track trails that left me begging for more at the end of each section. About an hour into the ride, Devon tired of wrestling the 600 and headed back to the truck. He knew what awaited, but I didn't!
Waterfalls have always been one of my favorite things. I've spent many days in Yosemite National Park admiring them. But, in Nevada, waterfalls take on a new meaning. First of all, the water is optional. As the lone Californian, I felt that it was up to me to uphold the states honor in some way. I had already been lambasted because some of our California races had been cancelled do to excessive dust. But I was going to show these guys that I was not some wine sipping, tofu eatin', new age listning California fruit cake. I was going to drink American beer, listen to rockin' music, spit into the wind and wheelie off their little waterfalls in 4th gear!
While we were looking for the trail to the waterfalls, we took a wrong turn down a narrow no turning back canyon. I thought that this must have been the waterfalls. There were several 2 and 3 ft dropoffs and huge boulders strewn everywhere. We came up to one dropoff that was well over 3 ft down. Barry launched his KDX off the dropoff, landed partly sideways and shot sideways into a solid rock wall. He ragdolled off the bike and pinballed off the rock wall. Our jaws were frozen shut, so I knew why I heard no moans. Barry shook off the hit without a wimper and continued on. We trials rode the rest of the section and then continued our search for the REAL waterfalls. We were about to find them.
As I got too the edge of the biggest drop off, I spotted the missing KDX. To my amazement, Barry was still on it and upright. I looked to the right and thought "No way!". To the left, maybe. I looked back to see if there was any way.... never mind. Everyone has to face their fears sometime. All the bravado that had gone through my mind earlier was a distant memory. My rear wheel was hung up on a frozen rock, and I couldn't get my bike out of 1st gear, let alone 4th! I picked up the rear end of my bike and pointed it toward the line I wanted. Tim was right behind me waiting for the inevitable endo. The rocks had icycles hanging off them, so it actually looked like a waterfall for once. The area just below the waterfall was a rocky, wheel swallowing mine field about 20 ft long, and the KDX was taking up about 6 ft of that! I knew what I had to do. Weather I rode out on the back of my KTM or the back of an ambulance made no difference. What if Louis and Clark had turned around. What if James T. Kirk had not bravely gone where no one had gone before. What if Neal Armstrong.... At that moment, my left hand slowly let the clutch out. The cold would numb any physical damage I reasoned. My suspension could soak up that bowling ball at the bottom of the fall. My tires could find traction on the frozen ground if I somehow stayed upright. Stay away from that front brake! I reminded myself halfway down the face. Turn right as soon as possible at the bottom and aim that front wheel between those two boulders. And then, and only then, grab some front brake. All this in a span of 3 seconds! As I gently rolled my front wheel up to Barry's KDX, I reopened my eyes. "That was the worst one" said Barry. Tim followed shortly after. We all had made it! At the bottom, I played it off like it was no big deal. "Is that it?" I said. My brain was frozen and obviously not working right.
On the way back to the truck, we rode so fast it was scary. It was like we were running from the grim reaper, and in a way we were! For the next 10 miles we rode together like we were connected. Turning, jumping and flat out laying it down through the best high speed single track Reno has to offer. At the truck we celebrated with high fives and cold beer. It was awsome riding, and it awaits everyone coming to Reno in February.
As I sat at the black jack table sunday night, I thought about the Valentines day ride. This is going to be a great time. Some will face the waterfalls and some won't. What everyone will do is have a great story to tell when the day is done.
Still in one piece,
angry jim
I arrived in Reno on Friday 12/21/01. I was meeting my friend Tim, a very fast B rider, at his house, where he was kind enough to let me stay. I was greated with a cold beer and hot pizza and an extremely hospitable family. We planned out saturdays ride and turned in.
On saturday morning, we loaded up and headed over to meet one of Tims friends, Devon. He was having trouble getting his XR600 running right, but he quickly got it sorted out. We then drove out to the Moonrocks. The ground was in perfect condition at the parking area. We got ready and headed out on a long uphill singletrack. I kept my 200 reving high to keep up with the big thumpers I was with. We climbed high enough to encounter our first major obstacle, a 1 to 2 foot deep snow drift on a tricky downhill. Tim bravely or blindly lead us down. Two thirds of the way down, his front wheel augered into a hidden hole and pitched him off. Luckily, Tim had cleared a path for us to follow. At the bottom, we regrouped and headed out. The rest of the day included tons of fast slippery riding. Snow blocked us from many of the high trails but there was plenty of great dirt to be found anyway. As we headed back to the truck to refule, we hit a great singletrack that saw all 3 of us dicing for positions with no more than 20 ft seperating us all. This was as fun as riding gets.
After refueling, Tim and I headed out for another loop. He let me leed for awhile, and I promptly headed for the skinniest trail I could find. The trail got steeper and narrower as we went. It was about half dirt and half snow and ice. I careened down the trail on the brink of disaster the whole way. At the bottom, Tim complimented my handling of the trail. As much as I wanted to tell him that I had mastered my snow and ice riding ability in California at 250 ft above sea level, I gave in and admitted that I was unable to stop. Whenever I hit the brakes, I would speed up! After a short rest, we headed back to the truck and then home to thaw out.
After a relaxing night Saturday, and a great pasta dinner prepared by Tims wife, we woke up with sore shoulders and realized there was a couple inches of fresh snow on the ground Sunday morning. We weren't about to let that stop us. The snow began to melt quickly, and our spirits were high. We again met Devon and met up with another friend,Barry, at Moonrocks. Sunday was cold, but with the proper clothing, it wasn't too bad. We all headed out and into the snow. The snow was not deep at all, and the traction was amazingly good. We were moving fast on a series of single track trails that left me begging for more at the end of each section. About an hour into the ride, Devon tired of wrestling the 600 and headed back to the truck. He knew what awaited, but I didn't!
Waterfalls have always been one of my favorite things. I've spent many days in Yosemite National Park admiring them. But, in Nevada, waterfalls take on a new meaning. First of all, the water is optional. As the lone Californian, I felt that it was up to me to uphold the states honor in some way. I had already been lambasted because some of our California races had been cancelled do to excessive dust. But I was going to show these guys that I was not some wine sipping, tofu eatin', new age listning California fruit cake. I was going to drink American beer, listen to rockin' music, spit into the wind and wheelie off their little waterfalls in 4th gear!
While we were looking for the trail to the waterfalls, we took a wrong turn down a narrow no turning back canyon. I thought that this must have been the waterfalls. There were several 2 and 3 ft dropoffs and huge boulders strewn everywhere. We came up to one dropoff that was well over 3 ft down. Barry launched his KDX off the dropoff, landed partly sideways and shot sideways into a solid rock wall. He ragdolled off the bike and pinballed off the rock wall. Our jaws were frozen shut, so I knew why I heard no moans. Barry shook off the hit without a wimper and continued on. We trials rode the rest of the section and then continued our search for the REAL waterfalls. We were about to find them.
As I got too the edge of the biggest drop off, I spotted the missing KDX. To my amazement, Barry was still on it and upright. I looked to the right and thought "No way!". To the left, maybe. I looked back to see if there was any way.... never mind. Everyone has to face their fears sometime. All the bravado that had gone through my mind earlier was a distant memory. My rear wheel was hung up on a frozen rock, and I couldn't get my bike out of 1st gear, let alone 4th! I picked up the rear end of my bike and pointed it toward the line I wanted. Tim was right behind me waiting for the inevitable endo. The rocks had icycles hanging off them, so it actually looked like a waterfall for once. The area just below the waterfall was a rocky, wheel swallowing mine field about 20 ft long, and the KDX was taking up about 6 ft of that! I knew what I had to do. Weather I rode out on the back of my KTM or the back of an ambulance made no difference. What if Louis and Clark had turned around. What if James T. Kirk had not bravely gone where no one had gone before. What if Neal Armstrong.... At that moment, my left hand slowly let the clutch out. The cold would numb any physical damage I reasoned. My suspension could soak up that bowling ball at the bottom of the fall. My tires could find traction on the frozen ground if I somehow stayed upright. Stay away from that front brake! I reminded myself halfway down the face. Turn right as soon as possible at the bottom and aim that front wheel between those two boulders. And then, and only then, grab some front brake. All this in a span of 3 seconds! As I gently rolled my front wheel up to Barry's KDX, I reopened my eyes. "That was the worst one" said Barry. Tim followed shortly after. We all had made it! At the bottom, I played it off like it was no big deal. "Is that it?" I said. My brain was frozen and obviously not working right.
On the way back to the truck, we rode so fast it was scary. It was like we were running from the grim reaper, and in a way we were! For the next 10 miles we rode together like we were connected. Turning, jumping and flat out laying it down through the best high speed single track Reno has to offer. At the truck we celebrated with high fives and cold beer. It was awsome riding, and it awaits everyone coming to Reno in February.
As I sat at the black jack table sunday night, I thought about the Valentines day ride. This is going to be a great time. Some will face the waterfalls and some won't. What everyone will do is have a great story to tell when the day is done.
Still in one piece,
angry jim
