I am a Mountain

As I am putting on my helmet and securing the chinstrap, there are 2 thoughts that are running thru my head, enjoy the ride and don’t die. As I am pulling on the right glove, stay focused. Left glove comes on, stay sharp. My leg swings over the bike, I am a mountain.

I am not a morbid person by any means. But I am not oblivious to the fact that there are inherent dangers that come with riding a motorcycle. And those dangers can by multiplied when riding canyons and twisties. My worst fear is not that I will do something stupid and crash. If that happens it’s my own fault, I accept that. But it’s going around a blind left hander and having someone going wide, veering into my lane, hitting me head on. Nonetheless, fears will not deter me from living. The snake like asphalt awaits, begs and taunts my Italian mistress and me.

I am not Buddhist but I do practice and follow some of their teachings and ways of living. Especially the methods meditation and single mindedness. When I am riding, I enter a state of single mindedness that is in its purest form for me. I am most focused when I am on two wheels or underwater. Thoughts of work, bills, relationships, what’s for lunch, anything other than what I am doing exactly now is potentially dangerous when riding a motorcycle. But no matter how focused you are, irrelevant and distracting thoughts will enter your mind. If you pay attention to these and concentrate on stopping these distractions you only propagate them even more. Instead become a mountain and all thoughts are clouds that pass by. Pay no attention to them, let it pass, stay focused, enjoy the ride and don’t die.

Randy aka Mega, was stricken deathly ill with a case a wussy-itis. His girlfriend had threatened him with a four post massacre if he dared leave the house to go riding. Having severe vaginal cramps, Mega sends me a text message that he “cant” make it. Pecker. Luckily a few days before, I had posted a message on Multistrada.net asking if anyone else would like to go on a ride on President’s Day. A very cool guy named Kevin, with one of the best looking Multistradas I have ever seen, responded and said he could make it.


It was a heavy, dark overcast morning when we met at the Coffee shop at 7am. After a quick get to know each other, shoot the shit about bikes and talk about our route, we were off. Our destination is Palm Desert, 150 miles each way of mainly back roads and small two lane highways.



A quick jog down the 5 to Ortega and the ride has officially begun. Kevin was leading and we had a good pace going. Until flashing signs warning of construction ahead, literally brought our momentum to a sudden halt. Coming around a blind right hander, sat a parked truck at the end of a long line of cars waiting to be signaled to pass thru the one lane section of the road. Kevin and I hit the brakes hard and shook our heads.

After about 40 minutes of crawling along thru the destruction zone, we were moving again. We stopped briefly at the Look Out to stretch our legs and warm our hands. My leather riding gloves are great for canyons and track days, but shit for any possibility of warmth. Surprisingly we were the only 2 people there. It was a first time I have ever seen that. Overlooking Lake Elsinore, the dense fog and haze covered up, hid and robbed us of the stunning, breath taking beauty of the 909 (that’s sarcasm incase you don’t know the area).


By the time we hit Tenaja rd, I was back in the zone. Sliding off the seat, knee out, leaning into every corner. The bike is breathing for me. The right wrist twists down and I breathe in. Two fingers reach out and quickly grab the front brake, I exhale. The toes of my boots are on the pegs, and keeping me in contact with my mortality. My Multistrada will do anything that I want it to. The only question is, what can I make it do and still get to the next corner with the rubber side down. I come out of the corner and hammer it. The Arrow pipes have the baffles out and they resonate my soul. There is nothing else like this in the world.

One of my favorite roads is Wilson Valley Road. It is a desolate tight twistie road that winds and weaves thru a rock and boulder covered land that could be a scene from a post apocalyptic movie. It doesn’t look like much on the map. But its beauty is reveals itself to you as flick your bike from side to side with the roar of a Ducati twin screaming passionate songs that match the pulse of your heart at 7000 rpms.



As we were riding on the 371 we passed one of the best bbq places known in my motorcycle heaven, Cahuilla Mtn Market. Unfortunately it is only 10:15am and the owner hasn’t even fired up the grill yet, so we ride on. When we hit the 74, instead of turning left and head to Idyllwild, which I have done many times. We turn right and brave the Pines to Palms highway for the first time. This is the reason for today’s route.

I have seen pictures of this part of the road and studied it on the map, and I wanted to ride it for myself.



The first part of the 74 sucked. The road was bumpier beyond any other tarmac I have ever rolled over. Black tar snakes vibrated the handlebars and stripped me of any overconfidence I might have had going into the slightest corners. Thankfully it smoothed out for the most part right around the lookout area that overlooks this 5.6 mile playground. After briefly stopping at the lookout and admiring the view, Kevin and I hit it perfectly. Not one car was ahead of us, the downhill spiral bliss was all ours. Fast sweepers, 270 degree corners and few chicanes. Absolutely exhilarating.


We hit the bottom, quickly turned around and hit it uphill. We were not as lucky going up, with the hindrance of 4 wheeled cages blocking and slowing our pace. Distractions assaulted me and wanted to repeat themselves over and over, move over Grandma and use the turnout you pecker.

But I am a mountain, let it pass, stay focused, enjoy the ride and don’t die.