Since we're an avid dirt-biking family, it is no surprise that our best outings were dirt-bike outings. The trips up Nine Mile Canyon (a driving adventure in itself) to Troy Meadows, have to be among our top favorites. So, what gives them such status? Well, getting up Nine Mile Canyon is an accomplishment in itself, especially driving a motorhome towing an enclosed dirt bike trailer. Nine Mile Canyon is essentially a single-lane dirt logging road cut into a steep hill side. There are many times when your left front wheel is right on the outer edge and you can't see ground out the driver's window for about 1200' down the canyon. In the meantime, the right hand side of your motorhome and/or trailer is scraping the rocks on the uphill cut. Now imagine meeting a logging truck coming down that road! It was always a relief to reach the summit and the paved two-lane roads at the top safely. Another major factor in giving these outings high marks is the quality of the campground. It is nestled among giant Sequoia trees, which provide shade and create a very serene environment. The trails in the Sequoia National Forest were a real delight to ride, especially in their original pristine state before environmental closures shut down looping trails, forcing riders to back-track. This doubled the traffic on the remaining trails and created two-way routes that turned pristine single-track trails into two-lane trails resembling fire roads. The excess traffic soon had the trails whooped out and dusty or muddy. The summer weather was usually very pleasant, with warm days and cool nights that made for comfortable riding in the day and perfect campfire activities in the evening. Another major factor was the company of fellow riders who were among our best friends. The trails themselves were picturesque and generally offered just enough technical difficulty to be interesting without being downright scary or dangerous. Of course for the hard core enthusiasts there was something called Machinery Creek that required lowering and raising the bikes with ropes to get past some of the obstacles. Some other good memories include trips to the Mojave Desert. Riding a route called The Trail of Tears to the Husky Monument comes immediately to mind. The Husky Monument is an old Husky dirt bike set in concrete out in the middle of nowhere. It was placed there by friends of a fallen desert racer who wanted his ashes spread in the desert he loved. Since then dozens of additional plaques and small monuments have been added honoring other riders. There is no telling how many funeral urns have been emptied there. Several of my riding buddies have expressed their desire for that to be their final resting place.
Another favorite area for us was Searles Station near Randsburg in the Mojave Desert. It is a large open camping area within the Spangler Hills Off Highway Vehicle Area. OHV opportunities abound, with sand washes, hill climbs, roller-coaster hills, and open desert. There is enough room for our annual "Turkey In the Dirt" outings at Thanksgiving. W e attracted up to 175 people our peak year. There is enough space that OHV traffic on the trails isn't too bad, even on busy holiday weekends, even though the collection of motorhomes and trailers made the desert look like a sprawling city. While we go camping to get away, it is also close enough to the little historic mining town of Randsburg to ride into town for lunch one day or a little further into Ridgecrest for supplies.
Worst camping experiences are actually a little harder to define, believe it or not. I've seen a bumper sticker that says "The worst day fishing beats the best day working" and that definitely applies equally well to camping and OHVing. Pretty much the worst day camping does beat the best day working. I can recall specific incidents that were less than happy at the time -- like having a hitch break and drop our trailer in the middle of the road as we were preparing to go home. But all in all, that was still a pretty good outing -- up 'til then. And it was a recoverable problem. Guess I sound a little like the optimist who falls off a 30 story building. As he passes the 15th floor someone shouts out a window "How's it going?" The optimist replies "So far, so good!" We've had times when one or more of our family were injured and we have made more than one trip to the emergency room, but even those weekends wouldn't qualify for being listed among "worst" experiences. We have had some "less successful" outings, like the time I left the keys for our dual-sport bike at home and we had to tear apart the ignition switch and hot-wire it. I think that may have been the same trip that I brought lots of canned foods but no can opener. Both of those circumstances were frustrating and inconvenient, but overall, the weekend was still quite enjoyable. And, if nothing else, we learned some valuable lessons and it makes for a good story today. We've had our share of flat tires and other equipment failures, but for the most part those are just minor inconveniences and not enough to put a whole outing in the "worst" category. I've witnessed situations that may qualify for a "worst" outing for the individuals involved (and their families). One young man went over the bars of his dirt bike hard enough that he was knocked out and when we got to him he was twitching as if he'd had an epileptic seizure. That one was scary, but ultimately he was OK. The teen age son of one of my riding buddies road down into a steep ravine. When he hit bottom, it was too sharp of an angle and his front wheel stopped suddenly instead of going up the other side. The young man snapped both wrists. I've seen an adult do the same thing and have helped splint broken bones on more than one injured rider for transport to the emergency room. That is one reason I carry a big first aid kit and maintain my first aid and CPR certifications. I broke a collar bone on one dirt-bike outing, but I still don't consider even that enough to put the whole outing into the "worst" category, even though it was quite uncomfortable (down right painful actually!) and somewhat challenging driving a big class A motorhome pulling a dirt bike trailer home with a broken collar bone. I had little choice. My only companions, my son and my nephew, were too young to drive. Other adults on the same outing had their own vehicles to get home.
The worst day camping does beat the best day working!
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