It's been 10 years...

The 1998 XT 350 on my test ride, just before buying her.  Pristine yes! We became friends quickly.

MY first foray to the US SW was early in January/February 1998.  Gosh that seems like a lifetime ago.  At that time I owned a propane fueled Dodge van and two 1990 Yamaha XT 600's.  Then girlfriend and former pupil of mine, Deb and I loaded the travel van with the bikes and headed to Baja California to ride the peninsula.

A very high Lake Pleasant reservoir.  BIG Carp splashing about

Several things I learned on that trip, never take the weather for granted, pay attention to details, don't rush even when you have to, and sleeping with your riding partner could be a benefit or a curse.  Sometimes both!

On the way north to Crown King, some years ago.

I'll admit, she was willing and would try most anything, (riding of course) by the end of that trip on our last ride which first introduced me to the Castle Hot Spring road in the lower Bradshaws, she even attempted and survived a dry riverbed/post flash flood trail ride before we headed back to Canada.  She's probably the best riding partner I've ever had.


She followed me across border at Yuma, across country to Mike's Sky Ranch and then all the way to Cabo San Lucas.  On the return we detoured to Hollywood where her sister still lives.  Both of us got a quick lesson in lane splitting and I have been a big advocate of this technique to this day.  Helps that everywhere I rode in Europe 10 years later, it was expected practice.

My nemesis, dry riverbeds!

FAST forward to April 2019. 

There's been a hellova lot of water under the Confederation bridge and in my current situation, that is certainly true.  During the Global greed induced financial crisis of enormous proportions, I bought myself a southern pad that I could not have conceived of ten years prior.  Dream comes true, as I moved into my Glendale home, sleeping the first night on an air mattress while me buddy Tom languished and dreamed sweet dreams at a local hotel.

In the ensuing decade I have explored much of the general area, from my AZ base.  I rolled on several thousand miles (it is the US after all) and visited a plethora of sights including but not limited to, the Castle HS road, Cow Creek, the Senator highway in both directions across 8000' mountains, rode old stage coach roads, the Mogollon Rim, and dozens of other locales.  Sometimes I got lost, sometimes I fell off, sometimes the trail defeated me, and other times I conquered the destination.

Ahhh, some relief both from the heat and in traction.  This is the Buckhorn road.

I was favored on this last ride...

I now find myself in the unusual predicament of selling my southern home.



As often happens, my thoughts of it being used by family didn't materialize, and once I moved east, my trips became more complex than hopping in the Blazer and driving south.  I've continued to go but this will be my last year.  Not because I've seen everything mind you, I haven't seen a tenth of the state, but I too am aging, the body is less willing even if the spirit is strong as ever.  My costs have to be considered as well as my travel insurance, which entering the USA without, is pure fantasy and you're taking your life savings and shaking them before rolling the dice...

This last trip was a little less than a month, given the variations in flights from little old PEI Canada to the USA.

Last year I was able to complete a ride I'd wanted to do for years.  I did a portion of it a few years back and in 2018 I filled in some much wanted blanks.  I circumnavigated the Roosevelt Lake reservoir, saw my only ever 'Gila Monster' alive and moving albeit very slowly, and not squished on the pavement either!



I made it to Globe, slept in a tent (at least tried to) high in the Superstitions getting if you can believe it, rained out! I spent the remainder of that night in a very uncomfortable Dodge truck cab.

I've done Prescott from both south and north passing through Crown King several times in my travels and will never regret buying the place and basing from here to every mountain range in sight.

Besides that, I've made many friends down south and proved once again, how great people can be.

For my most recent trip amid daily highs in the mid 90's, I put together several pieces of terrain I'd done before and rode the back route to Wickenburg.  As it did once before, the cut-off from CHS rd following the riverbed to Buckhorn road from which I would get to Walker's Gulch if the desert gods were kind to me (they rarely are) and from there west through the Wickenburg mountains to the busy little town on the highway to L.A. or Vegas, depending on your choice.

This time the Buckhorn almost defeated me. Again. I really dislike riding in sand and gravel with the consistency of quick sand.  The front end of the XT plowing and nearly tossing me dozens of times, for old times sake... on a rd(?) consisting of foot deep sand.

In the Wickenburg  Mtns.

Fortunately this time I picked up a little stream water which I could follow to the confluence of the Buckhorn and Castle Creek rds.  Now when you read this after returning from a ride on the 5A on your Burgman 650, "road" is really a misnomer as these places are anything but.  There was just enough water trickling along to get my tires wet, as well as cool my feet inside my Icon boots and keep the tires floating along atop the sand/gravel riverbed.

I hadn't ridden this entire route but once before and although some of it was familiar, for the most part I was traveling by feel once again.  By the time I reached the Constellation road cut off, I could see that even out here, where water is scarce and the cacti grows to the height of a three story building, civilization was intruding from both directions.  In a few more years, mega mansions will be overlooking the valley's I was passing through today, and if not paved, may certainly be graded.

We think the desert as this vast mountain, sand and endless open track play ground, when in reality it's finite and fast getting worn down.  I was proud of myself for sticking to the roads and trails already established.  No veering across the desert like the sixties!

ONCE in Wickenburg I actually came down from the mountains to a (what else) McD's and although I have not been eating this type of food for quite sometime now, it just seemed made to order.  I was even more convinced when I found a parking space open up under the only shade tree in the place!   It's too bad that the food wasn't any better than it is back in Canada!  At least the tall cold Coke was the same.

Not today... !

Sitting there checking my phone messages (I had none) I was approached by a gent in my age range very interested in the Yamaha.  He seemed like a super enthusiast (not quite up to Dr. status but close)  Again, my apologies to his wife who patiently waited for her man to sit down and eat, boys will be boys especially when riding motorbikes!

After getting back onto Grand Avenue route 60, I as thinking of heading to Glendale on the main drag. As an alternative, I could take the 74 turnoff onto what's known locally as the Carefree Highway and cut down through the heart of Peoria to my home in Glendale.

I did neither. 

Normally dry as a dog's bone.

 As the "short cut" to Wickenburg via Buckhorn, had me cutting off the Western portion of the CastleHot Spring rd, I decided to ride to back and cover that final stretch of gravel one more time.  I enjoyed the ride back on familiar terrain, by this time I was stripped to my basic riding gear in the heat, I veered off on Cow Creek and rode the remaining gravel roads into larger and larger summertime crowds,  Lots of ATV, side be sides, R.V.'s, boats of various sizes from canoes to cabin cruisers.  Lake Pleasant which I have seen in drought conditions a mile short of the norm while today, the lake went under the causeway I'd traveled many a time over the years, and filled the little valleys and canyons at the highest levels I'd seen in my 20 years.


As I returned to the highway and settled into a 55 mph cruising speed, now do-able with the last gearing change, it was somehow fitting.  From recession of both economy and reservoir, to seeming excess, both with water under the bridge and economically.

One of my favorite red rock canyons.  

My ride on very familiar streets back to my Glendale home brought back hundreds, no... thousands of memories I will carry forward with me into my aging future.

Just as my last ride in Baja in 2007, this day was a fitting Bon Voyage... to my many days riding the Arizona deserts.