Discretion is the better part of valour...

AFTER barely four and a half miles of the Buckhorn road, I realized that on this day... this road... was most likely going to defeat me. 

Once I'd dropped into the dry riverbed, the surface alternated between short sections of fairly hard pack, to a foot deep sand and loose gravel.

There was absolutely no thought of carrying any speed across the occasional hard surface.  Meandering along in a very crooked line, the dry wash gave very little warning of the transition between surfaces.  It all looks pretty much the same.

Normally, if my body is in better spirits, I would just dial up third gear, lean back on the seat and work my way thru the soft stuff with throttle.

The problem today was anytime I hit the quicksand... the bike would wag and shake like your long lost collie's tail.




 
 
 

 

Each time this happened the bars would literally yank my left hand off the grip and with it, my ailing shoulder felt like marshmellows mixed with cotton candy!

 

The feeling must be akin to being stabbed repeatedly with an icy hot stiletto right in the ball joint!

An old style all steel 70's Chevy Blazer rolled along on four very fat, heavily treaded tires, crewed by four teenagers.

Having parked to snap a few pics, I pushed the bike over to the side of the trail, my Icon's slipping in the gravel.  Even though the XT is about half the weight of a GS BMW, it was extremely difficult work with my shoulder in pain.

"Where does this road lead to?"  I ask the driver who didn't look more than 16, 17 tops.

"It goes up the mountain to the lookout."  the reply.

When asked if it hooks up with Cow Creek, the answer was "No."  They motored on leaving me in a cloud of dust.

I had a drink from the cantee... umm, water bottle to ponder my next move.  The arm felt like burning rubber and given the situation, I felt it best if this time... I did an about face.

So here's the lesson I always try and make to anyone contemplating doing this sort of thing.  Using the best tool in your tool box, that is... your brain... don't be a hero, you could very easily end up dead.

I turned around, that in itself in the soft sand was ordeal enough.