“BAJA BOUND” OFF-ROAD MOTORCYCLE ADVENTURE

December 9-12, 1999

“Baja California is a wonderful example of how much bad roads can do for a country.”

-Joseph Wood Krutch

Day one…. as the world turns:

5:00 AM Thursday, December 9^th found Bob Jr. and I boarding a Northwest (Northwest?) flight for Detroit (Detroit?), Michigan to catch a connecting flight to San Diego. Don’t ask. Anyway, eight grueling hours later (actually 10:00 AM PST) found us in the beautiful downtown San Diego airport (San Diego really is beautiful) waiting on our tour group, Baja Bound, to pick us up. Since they were picking up a couple of guys flying in around 1:00, Bobby and I had made plans to camp out at the airport, have lunch (the first of many Mexican meals) and wait for Baja Bound tours to pick us all up at the same time.

The Usual Suspects:

Baja Bound Tours finally arrived (hey, we were ready to get on some trail) and awaiting us in the van and truck were our riding companions for the next three days:

Tim Morton, Pro-Dessert Racer, guide, and owner. He’s the owner along with his wife Jennifer, who actually does most of the bookings, paper work, etc. By the end of the trip it got to be a standing joke among the riders that if we wanted to do something that wasn’t on the agenda we would start whining that Jen promised us we could do it…..not that it did any good.

Chris Ridgway, Pro Motocrosser. Actually a Virginia boy who did a lot of motocrossing around here. California transplant. 29 years old. Rookie of the year in 1993. Broken or dislocated every bone you can name and some of them twice. This was his first trip to Baja and he was helping Tim by being the “sweep” guy (bringing up the rear). I asked Chris after the second day how he liked doing this and his comment was that “anytime I can get paid for riding a bike, I consider it a privilege.” That about sums it up for me, too, except that I’m on the paying end of the privilege. Chris gave us tips on how to ride, etc. that even helped me (you know what they say about “old dogs”). He’d make a great teacher when he decides to quit breaking bones. If Chris keeps riding with Tim, he would be a great asset for Tim to market as part of the tour.

Tom Morton. Tim’s dad. I didn’t get much chance to talk to Tom since he was driving the Chase Truck. He was on the road all the time and we would only see him at lunch and nightly stops. Apparently, he has done a lot of Baja car racing in his time and like Tim, really knows his way around Baja.

Marc Prince. Californian, 40 and was a professional speedway racer for 16 years until he figured out that he probably wasn’t going to make a living at it. Went to work importing toys and numbers Costco, and other large accounts among his clients. Very successful. He is also importing and building a minibike called the HM which is similar to the LEM, KTM mini and other small racers. Looks like a mini CR. Slowly setting up a dealer network. That business is going well as more and more of us senior riders get our kids involved (in my case, grandkids, someday). Mark bought down his lifelong friend….

Jondy Cohen, MD. Orthopedic surgeon. Californian, around 40 something. Good guy to know. He and Chris ending up spending a lot of time discussing Chris’ bone problems. Jondy (pronounced John-dee) is into astronomy and brought a telescope along, although I’m not sure if he ever got to use it, as I was always ready for bed by 8:00 PM every night (remember, we were 3 hours behind). More of a casual rider.

Randy Smith. Californian, also 40 something. Moves households for a living. He lives in San Diego and brought his own bike (XL 600). More of a casual rider also. He had just bought his son a XR 400 that had been tricked out by a local bike shop in town and part of the price was a free Baja Bound ride.

Jeremy (McGrath) Smith. Randy’s son. Californian, early 20’s. Hadn’t done much trail riding so this was a learning experience for him, but he definitely had the trickest bike there (XR400).

And, of course, yours truly, Bob (Tweetybird—hey, that’s my race name) White, 57. Part-time Virginia, semi-retired, half-fast and Bob, Jr. (Bobby, Little Bob—nothing to do with his anatomy), 29, fast, but no broken bones to speak of.

Tim had warned us that this ride would be a mixed bag of riding skills and abilities, and as it turned out, since this was everyone’s first foray into Baja, it worked out pretty well.

The Bikes:

Tim uses Honda XR400’s and 600’s exclusively. They all have had their suspensions worked on, big tanks fitted, jetted and Applied Racing triple clamps install (to move the handlebars farther forward—a must in the dessert). We riders all chose 400’s so Tim and Chris ended up riding 600’s. Tim had a brand new 400 that had the stock tank and stock everything else. Had not been rejetted, but did have the triple clamps installed. I immediately staked this bike out for myself, knowing that no one else really wanted to ride a brand new bike. Besides, I knew that everyone would want me to have this bike since it was the lightest, and I was the oldest rider there, and I needed every advantage I could get.

The easy part is getting in……..

Border Crossing

(Note even the border patrol have 4-wheelers)

The plan was to cross the border and spend the first night at a small motel (are they called motels? Haciendas?) that would serve as our base of operations. The next day we would ride up to Mike’s Sky Rancho (not Ranch--now you know the real name—the magazines have been getting it wrong all these years), send the night, and from there, we would ride over to the Pacific coast and on to a small town to spend the next night, and then back to our base to pick up the van and return to San Diego.

Everything was going according to plan except that it was getting colder and colder and they were predicting rain and snow the next day. Rain and snow! For chissake, we were in Mexico, South of the Border (SOB), south of the land of milk and honey, where it never rained and never got below 70 degrees, where everyone had perfect tans and hung out at the beach all day, where everyone laughed at us Easterners and our lousy weather, and trees, and lack of exercise and unhealthy diets, and, and…we came out here for this? We left better weather back home! In Virginia! Which is not exactly well know for its Palm Trees and balmy weather.

Oh, well. Like my buddy Sam Chalk always says, “I’ve never had rain spoil a trail ride.” Of course, he’s never been SOB and brought riding gear for 70-degree days, either.

As dusk was falling we pulled into the small hacienda(?), Rancho Santa Veronica,

where we would spend the first night. Turns out this was originally a bull-fighting training facility. It was at the end of about 20 miles of bad roads and in the middle of nowhere. It was, by Mexican standards, a pretty nice place with a swimming pool, tennis courts, restaurant and with all the comforts of home, except for a couple of small niceties… like heat and hot water. No matter, Bobby and I are hardy souls, having spent many a night at Joe Jesse’s farm, in rain (and snow), sleeping on the ground, eating food out of tin cans around a fireplace that left you toasted on one side and frosty on the other. No stinking hot showers or heat for us!

That night we had an authentic Mexican meal (our second of the day) in the restaurant. Since we were the only guests there, we pretty much had the run of the place, and, naturally, we drank way too much (to stay warm), ate way too much (to carbo load for the next day), and benched raced way too late into the evening (to avoid having to go back to our cold rooms).

Bobby and I finally made it back to our rooms (remember, we were three hours behind all these California dudes). Crashed in our clothes, slept like logs and dreamed of warm Virginia weather and trail rides we have known.

Next installment:

Freezing rain and snow in the dessert? You’re kidding, right?

Bad roads are a good thing.

We meet a motocross legend from the 70’s.

First turn start at the 1977? Unadilla 250 USGP

Do you know who #33 is? (Hint… it’s not Hannah)