Phacelia Reserve - Too Far Across the Desert

5-1-10

Another trek for no particular reason...no. Maybe just to try out the new Leo Vince 2-1 exhaust..yeah that's it.

The day started out fine, so

I got the crappy stuff out of the way immediately...first crashes on new bikes are always the best.

Yep, just fell down, nope, don't know what went wrong, maybe too much red the night before...

Yeah, that's a highway peg...so what?!!

For some reason I just happened to put on the full armor tthis morning. I felt fine, just hungry. Good time to go to the private Mex restaurant and regroup.

Better now, head straight across the dez north after jammin' Black Butte Road. See where I'll end up, hopefully not dead.

Out across 210th St East going north sets you at the edge of Edwards Air Force Base, fomerly Muroc Dry Lake. Interesting find it was. Expected the APes (Airforce Police to be on me with a chopper at any moment. Turns out there is a security fence around the perimeter contrat to what I'd been told.

This old Mojave dez is an odd place, neve know what you'll find...

Interesting rocks n stuff...

.

Weird, yeah it's weird out here.

Strange as it was after the Poppy Preserve, I found out I was in another reserve...coolness! Never knew this existed.

And straight it was til I came across the first gate.

A hard right is what the GPS said, and keep going and going, and...more whoops, more sand more rocks, narey a hole in the fence, no.

Top of a particular rocky butte the trail just meandered on.

.

Checking the GPS, she said (and I mean She) to go some 1.5 hours in the same direction to Highway 395...not. My mama raised no fool, maybe...

Screwit, I finally found a bare trail and started heading westerly from whenst I came. Oddly enough, I came across some othere trail preserve, weird place, official BLM sign with no info, just this tree and some manicured trails.

Still she tells me closest road is northwest so, out of the whoops at least I head out on these wide graded wash roads,

Good speed, still they went on forever til I hit 395, about 25 miles from KramerJunction. Oh boy, against the wind to tthe windiest junction in the west...

Stop at the four corners for a breather. HOW do I do these things?

What are the chances?...

That's right, it's an orange crayola, must be a sign, I start trippin', maybe it was the heat that spiked my creative old acid brain...

Screw it, I just beat it home, super slab it. Fuck you truckers.

One last shortcut across the trail of crashing orange bikes. Beer me GPS girl.

The End.