It isn't often that one gets the opportunity to drive across the country and stay at a person's home whom you met off facebook.
Near Pikes Peak
Getting there
I rolled up to Joe's place and had to double take that I was at the right address.
The location was epic. Is this actually the place? There was a man outside sweeping the porch when we made eye contact with each other at a distance. Seems he recognized the blue wagon and sent over a friendly wave complimented with a gesture to pull in.
Joe and I confirmed that I was in fact Salman Kazmi and he was Joe Turse. We both then went inside where I had the pleasure of meeting his wife Dana, their son Story, and their two beautiful pitbulls.
After unloading the Husqvarna and discussing its yet to be proven reliability, Joe and I directed our attention towards grocery shopping in Salida. Our little run allowed the opportunity to learn about his time spent in Florida and eventual move to Colorado. Dana and Joe were avid ADVRiders with Dana initially and currently owning a Ducati 900SS. Sweet, another Ducatista. Coincidentally, Dana spent considerable time in Rockville, MD - a stone's throw away from me - which opened more channels for warm conversation
Only days ago were we facebook profiles to each other. And after a few hours our friendship was kindling over a steak dinner. This meeting was 27 years in the making. 27 years where we were in different states, heading in different directions, occupied in different fashions at the time. From a bird's eye point of view, how is it that people can quickly grow comfortable with each other over riding a motorcycle?
Riding is a thrilling affair. There isn't always a concern about what direction we're heading in. Sometimes the ride is great and other times not so much. However, it is the adventure of the ride that we all share the same passion about - rather than the safe resignation of sitting at home. The same concept applies to how we view our lives and live it. You see, we share much more in common than just the ride on two wheels - we have our own individual life stories to bask in over evenings together. That's the beauty of the community and my new family in Colorado.
My new friend
Morning arrived and marked my departure. Joe and Dana looked over my gear and shared their $0.02 on useful additions. After my early trip to Walmart and a joint review with Joe on today's route, we all shared a heartfelt goodbye and a selfie to reflect upon the great 24 hours spent together..
The Husqvarna and I set off for the trails.
Ready to rock & roll
My new fam in the West
Yes...the first time ever riding off road and what better way to start doing so than on the Black Hills loop.
Jesus Christ, why is the handling so damn sensitive and sketchy?!
Maybe this wasn't for me. Maybe I suck at off-road riding and am going to get into trouble. Maybe...
Oh. I didn't lower the tire pressure.
Joe recommended I drop the tire pressures to under 20PSI for the front and rear. After lowering the tire pressure from 30PSI+, the bike was handling much better. Go figure.
The loop had a gradual, scenic introduction. It made for easy riding for a newbie like me. Like a long escalator - slow and not overwhelming.
Eventually the route split off and ventured into dual track. Off to the races. Immediately it reminded me of mountain biking. Lines were of utmost importance. You made sure to avoid off camber lanes, those with big rocks, and large pits as to prevent a crash and damage to the bike.
Out and about
Onwards we go
From the early scenery, it became apparent this was going to be an epic trip. The size of the landscape and scenery lead me to ponder the thrill of a Lewis & Clark expedition. Alone in the wild. Vulnerable to mother nature and the elements. Void of any 21st century distractions - those black hills didn't give me the luxury of cell coverage anyway.
Mid-day reflections
Sal vs Fence - Round 1
Sal vs. Fence - Round 2
Sal vs. Fence - Round 3
It's an organic experience. There's always the risk of injuring yourself or the bike malfunctioning with no immediate repair. You're left relying on yourself. Yet, it's that reality that makes you hypersensitive to the situation. You're forced to live in the moment.
Funny enough, I was more concerned about running out of gas than dumping the bike. Even though I had a reserve canister of one gallon for mental peace, these trails were far from civilization. And if the gas light were to come on it would take tremendous reservation not to succumb to eliciting the Husqvarna's snarling exhaust note.
Well would you look at that...
At the end of the loop both the rider and his motorbike were unscathed.
Yes, I'm getting the hang of this. I'm good enough for the Dakar rally
The early afternoon finish prompted an early return back to Salida. My stomach was moaning for food, Mexican food in particular. And so it was spoiled with just that as a trophy for not dying today.
Traditional reward
Lunch of champions
Joe and his family were kind enough to offer me their house again for that night. But it was time to get out of my comfort zone and finally camp in the wild. Joe recommended going towards a ridge just off the Black Hills Trail.
The further I went the more my gut curled up with fear. The isolation was dawning on me.
GO BACK. YOU DON'T HAVE TO DO THIS SAL. THERE'S A TEMPER-PEDIC MATTRESS WAITING FOR YOU.
Man up fool.
Isolated locations are usually the best camping sites. This was the theme of that night and many to come.
Food was thrown in a zip-loc bag and slung over a tree. The tent was pitched in a location void of rocks. Air mattress, sleeping bag, pillow, all set in order. Check. Check. Check.
Ah this is nice. You know I could get used to this.
There was still a fear of my trip concluding with a bear giving me a three piece and a soda in the middle of the night. But the only way to overcome that was to tough it through.
Kheir. Well at least I can enjoy the - thunder
Oh yes. My very first night of camping. And it was to be spent on top of a mountain in thunderstorm.
Day 1 was an initiation to it all.
And an electrifying one I'll say.
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