Our "Ride From Hell" began as a well-planned, easy, afternoon family dirt bike rirde, right out of our back door in the Mojave Desert. We had thoroughly checked all the bikes and made sure everyone was carrying plenty of water for the planned 2-hour afternoon ride in the mountains a few miles from our home in the Mojave Desert. We were all experienced desert riders and knew well the issues we might face.
Exactly how our easy family jaunt turned into The Ride From Hell isn't entirely clear. It was a combination of things that kind of fell like dominoes, but if I had to hang it on one specific action, it would be our choice to ride certain trails we weren't familiar with. Now riding new trails is not a bad thing, in fact a lot of the fun of riding any OHV is exploring new territory. I think our problem first began when we failed to turn back immediately when we hit a section of trail that was less used and far more technically challenging than we had planned for. Perhaps our egos pushed us to keep going or perhaps we just thought things would get better. That first stretch of questionable trail was an uphill through a lightly forested area and the soil was soft and loose, making progress difficult. We figured the trail would get better once we got to the top of the hill. We were wrong! In hindsight, we should have turned around right then. Instead we kept going and before too long were far enough up this particular trail that it no longer made any sense to try to slip and slide back down it. We figured we'd find a better way down. So, we kept going -- and going -- and going. Bad choice!
We had left home about noon on a planned two-hour ride. By 3:00 our water was getting low. By 4:00 the water was gone and we were still way up on the mountain looking for the best way down. Around 5:00 we started having problems with the bikes. My big KTM started blowing white smoke and I feared I'd blown a head gasket. My youngest son, then a high school football lineman, eagerly volunteered to switch bikes so he could push the KTM as needed. The second casualty was my wife's KDX 200. It just died and wouldn't start. Now our eldest son stepped in, giving his brand new KX250 to my wife and taking over pushing the KDX 200 as needed. Fortunately it was mostly downhill at the time. We tried to set as direct a course as possible to get us off the mountain and back home but it still took us more than an hour to just reach the desert floor. Getting back down had two problems: first of all, we didn't KNOW the way down and secondly, we had somewhere gotten off the trail when it petered out and were breaking our own trail all the way down. Even with gravity working to move us in general direction we needed to go it was tough going.
With two dead or dying bikes it was decided that my wife and I would go on ahead on the working bikes and bring back water to drink and the truck to haul the broken bikes home. We were somewhat concerned about how we would find the boys when we got back. By the time we hit the highway we'd made a least a dozen turns on unmarked dirt desert roads criss-crossing the valley floor. We tried remembering our route and tried to leave definitive tracks we could follow back, but were still worried. What a relief it was reaching the highway! Now we should only be 15-20 minutes from home and salvation! After only about 5 minutes on the highway I discovered my wife was no longer behind me. When I went back to see what had happened I discovered she'd run out of gas. We had certainly not expected that! She was riding our son's KX 500 which had large desert tank and we'd NEVER run it out of gas in the nearly 20 years we'd had that bike. With no other real choice, I left her with the empty bike and headed for home as fast as I could. When I arrived at the gate I discovered my riding boots were covered in oil. Turns out my son's new KX 250 had popped a little rubber plug out one of the valve covers and it was spraying out the oil! That made it a full house -- failure of all four of our bikes on one ride. Worried that I'd done permanent damage to my son's new bike I pushed it down the driveway and into the shed.
I then headed directly to the kitchen for some water and Powerade to stem my dehydration and try to stave off heat cramps. I then mixed up a big "Round About" of Powerade and filled another with water to take back to the rest of the family. It was then I discovered my truck was just about out of gas. "No problem." I thought. "I'll just take Mike's truck." I was happy when I found his keys but my joy was short lived. His truck was also almost out of gas. As luck would have it, even my lawn mower gas can was empty. My dad used to say "If it wasn't for bad luck I wouldn't have any luck at all" and I was sure I'd inherited his luck by then. With no other choice I drove into town about 8 miles away to get gas. I then headed back out the highway. My plan was to first rescue my wife, then we'd go look for the boys and pick them up. About a quarter mile past the turn off to our house, I saw a rider coming toward me. I didn't recognize him at first but as we passed I discovered it was Mike. He had figured out what the problem was with the KDX 200 and got it started. Turned out the fairly new gas cap wasn't vented and after a while it would vapor lock and the fuel would no longer flow to the carburetor. Opening the cap now and then provided a temporary solution until we could drill a vent hole in the cap. We loaded the bike in the truck and headed on down the highway to rescue my wife. We drove all the way to where my wife and I had turned onto the highway without seeing her or the bike. Fortunately we had cell phones and were able to reach her and learn she had gotten a ride home from a passing vehicle. Knowing she was home safe we turned our attention to rescuing our other son, who was still with my dying KTM. I was sure glad to have Mike with me since he knew about where he had left Tyler. When we got to Tyler his face was bright red. He was sunburned, dehydrated, and overheated. He'd been pushing the KTM for quite a while and had just about decided he was ready to fire it up and ride it until it died. He must of put down a half gallon of water and Powerade before even coming up for air. We loaded up the KTM and headed home. Mom had ordered pizza and we all sat down for dinner and swigged down glass after glass of Powerade and water. I thought with what I'd gotten when I first got home and what I was drinking with dinner I was in good shape. Not so! ALL of us experienced excruciating heat cramps before the evening was over. When my legs cramped up on me when I tried to stand up I called for a glass of salt water as a quick fix for low electrolytes. We all continued to drink as much water and Powerade as we could hold to compensate for being out in the heat for so long without water and to combat continuing heat cramps. Everyone was in pain from heat cramps for hours. I really thought I'd gotten it whipped by the time we went to bed but was awakened about 1:00 am with another set of painful heat cramps in both thighs. The cramps were in front and back so it was impossible to stretch out one without further cramping the other. Finally, in desperation, I sought the most neutral and comfortable position I could find and waited them out until I was able to walk, sort of. I hobbled to the kitchen and downed about 12 more ounces of salt water (by the way, dill pickle juice works even better for almost immediate relief, but we'd already used up all we had) and was able to sleep through the rest of the night, although my thigh muscles still felt bruised the next morning. I'm pretty sure the rest of the family's sleep was interrupted by heat cramps too. If you've ever had heat cramps, you know how painful they are and you won't want to have them again. If you've never had them, they're like a "Charlie Horse" on steroids!
Lessons learned: 1) Have a good plan and stick to it. Don't keep going when things start getting out of control. 2) Don't assume you have "enough" water. We were each carrying 72 to 96 ounces of water when we left at noon, which would have been plenty for our planned 2 hour ride, perhaps longer if we rationed it knowing it had to last longer. However, we used up our water early, thinking we'd be home before it ran out. 3) Don't underestimate the desert -- or any other terrain you may be riding or hiking in. 4) Limit exploration of new trails. Either get someone who has ridden them before to guide you the first time or be cautious about how far you go into new territory, especially if the going gets rough. 5) Watch the time and turn back when you reach the half-way point of your planned excursion whether you have reached your destination or not. Don't be afraid to back track. 6) Always plan a return/escape route.
The Ride From Hell makes a good story now, and, hopefully, helps motivate other riders to avoid making the same mistakes we did. Now it is remembered as an "adventure". But at the time, it was no fun at all, and a source of significant pain for all of us on top of the emotional stress. One rule we DIDN'T break was 'Never Ride Alone'. Each of us experienced some necessary solo time here and there, but overall we were mostly at least 2x2.
What Not To Do. DO NOT continue to explore unfamiliar trails if the going gets rough. You can quickly get into a situation that may be hard to get out of. DO NOT use up all your water early in a ride. Even if you have plenty, ration it so you still have some left at the end of the ride. DO NOT ride outbound for more than half the time you have allocated for the ride. If you haven't reached your destination when you reach the half way mark for your planned ride on the clock, turn around!
Previously the only regrettable ride I'd been in involved following the advice of a more experienced rider who, it turns out, had a reputation for not knowing where he was going! We were in unfamiliar territory and relying on outdated maps to find our way back to camp. Our self appointed leader mis-read the map and led us up a steep trail that quickly petered out to a goat trail. We ended up deep in uncharted wilderness that added hours to our ride back to camp. Fortunately, using some common sense and dead reckoning, we found our way back to a familiar road the finally back to camp, but not before encountering and negotiating over and around boulders the size of Volkswagens. Once again, it now makes a good story but there was nothing good about it at the time.
Ride safely!
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