“We probably bit off more than we meant to”
Jack with his Kawasaki KLX 300, and Tommy with his Suzuki DRZ 400
In the final days of June, my boyfriend, Jack, and our good friend, Tommy, bought dirt bikes. Next, they decided to do what any sane person who has just purchased their very first dirt bike decides to do - plan a four day trip through some of the toughest terrain on the legendary Colorado Backcountry Discovery Route, scheduled to leave in just under a week.
This was followed by a flurry of parts arriving in the mail, late nights wrenching on the bikes, lots of cursing at mechanical mishaps, and literally making tweaks down to the last moments before takeoff. Luckily, they are both as handy as they are determined, so everything managed to come together just in time.
We set off on the morning of July 4th - Independence (from their pre-frontal cortexes) Day - and drove out to McPhee Reservoir, Colorado. The bikes were locked down with a web of colorful Rollercam straps, notably the custom Moto kits I had made for them a few days before.
On the way we passed the Ferris wild fire, which would go on to claim more than 64 thousand acres. Every finger in the truck was crossed that those fires would not spread East, towards the route they had planned.
At camp, the guys made their final adjustments (shift lever position, mirrors, etc.) and I fussed over the 70+ pounds of gear we had Rollercam’d onto the backs of their bikes. We played a few rounds of cards by the light of our headlamps, then settled into sleep under a smoke filled sky.
They were up early in the morning, chomping at the bit to hit the road. We downed a quick breakfast in Delores CO, conveniently located right next to the trailhead, and then they were off.
What follows is the account I got from Jack, recounting the adventures in between the moment I waved goodbye, and the moment I pulled into the parking lot in Roosevelt Utah to rescue them.
Day one was, ironically, the most technical day of the trip. The trail heads up through a beautiful forest and then over a mountain pass in the Beaver Creek Loop area. This was their first serious offroad experience on dirtbikes, and the deep sand and wooded trail acted as swift teachers. In the afternoon, they arrived in Telluride for a late lunch of pizza, before setting off to face the main hurdle of the day: Ophir Pass.
Ophir pass reaches an elevation of 11,789 feet and is known for its steep, rocky climbs and no-fall-zone exposure. The views are, however, entirely worth it. A few falls occurred, but no one was injured.
On the other side of the pass, they made their way to Silverton and camped in a densely forested conifer grove.
Day one, check.
Stoke was high on the second morning, and Jack and Tommy got an early start. That morning’s route led them through the beautiful Alpine Loop area - a section of mountain passes in the Colorado San Juan mountains. Highlights were Hurricane Pass, California Gulch, and Cinnamon Pass. There were high alpine streams surrounded by wildfires, historic mining sites with abandoned structures and equipment, and aerial views of expansive lakes. The smoke from nearby fires had started to roll in by the time they made it to Lake City for a late lunch.
The third morning called for a refueling stop in Pitkin. Jack and Tommy broke camp and made their way into town, where they were pleasantly surprised to see a squad of locals hanging out and drinking coffee at the nearby gas station. The gas pumps were so old that they had to recruit help from the friendly group to fill their tanks. From there they headed up and over Cumberland Pass into Tin Cup. The trail led them to a water crossing, where they found the water so deep that they had to detour to an alternate route.
Once over Cotton Pass, they made their way to the town of Buena Vista, which apparently had ‘bueno vibes’. A few chicken caesar wraps later and they were on the trail again towards Sevenmile Creek. Sevenmile Creek is renowned for its scenic views of Collegiate Peaks and flowy, sandy trails that were the highlight of the trip for the guys.
Sevenmile Creek also provided a much awaited opportunity: gunning the bikes through multiple-feet-deep water. Jack made it across, blowing out enormous waves on either side as the water rose nearly up to the seat. Tommy turned the key, ready to follow suit, and was met with the dreaded dead-battery-click. The jumper battery? On the other side of the river, on Jack’s bike. The solution? Throw the jumper battery and cables across the river. Miraculously, it worked. Tommy disassembled his seat and jumped his battery without issue, then splashed triumphantly across the river to continue on their way.
I suppose two people can only have so much luck, because at this point the downpour began. Soaked to the bone and shivering, they had to navigate the highly exposed Weston Pass, right as the lightning began.
“I totally thought we were gonna get struck by lightning,” Jack recalled.
They made it over the pass, and were promptly greeted by views of the Willow Fire burning near Leadville. Smoke cresting the horizon and flames just visible in the distance, they headed down into Leadville.
Soaked, dirty and chilled, Jack and Tommy found an open laundromat in town and spent the next few hours washing their clothes and themselves.
Spent from the day’s adventures, they found a quiet dirt road outside Leadville and bunked down for the night.
The next day was originally going to be the penultimate day, but by this point the boys were battered and their bikes were suffering multiple failures. Both bikes had leaky front fork seals, Jack’s clutch was cooked, his handlebars were bent, and Tommy’s clutch and brake levers had both snapped. They made the decision to attempt the long ride from Leadville back to Salt Lake City in one day.
The day remained uneventful for many hours, despite their bikes not being optimized for fast highway travel, and Jack’s burnt clutch limiting them to 50mph. Then, around 2:30pm, Tommy got a flat. They hailed a kind stranger with a truck, who gave Tommy a lift to the nearest mechanic. The mechanic changed the tube for an exorbitant fee, and sent them on their way. Not 20 minutes later, the same tire went flat again! Upon closer inspection, they discovered a large staple embedded in the tire, which the mechanic had failed to locate before putting in the replacement.
It was around this time that I received a call from Jack. I had already offered to meet them part way, so I was happy to hop in the truck and head their way. It was about 8pm by the time I rolled into Roosevelt to find piles of gear, disassembled bike parts, and two very tired men sprawled across the parking lot. We packed up as quickly as we could, and then hightailed it to the only dinner spot open at 9pm in small town Utah: Dominoes Pizza.
So, how was this all remembered? This is what Jack had to say:
“I think it was a great first trip. That was the first BDR I'd been on, and really some of the first off-road riding I'd done. So I definitely feel like we probably bit off more than we meant to, but you know, we figured it out. It was really fun. [Also,] I got used to having 70 pounds of luggage on my bike. So then, when I started riding trails without luggage, it felt like I was a different man.”
Well, there you have it, folks. If you want to master a new skill, maybe go seek out the hardest practice available to you and send it with full confidence. A few mishaps may occur along the way, but the learning curve, and the memories, will be worth it.
