Mt. Doom…errr Lemmon

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The local ADV riders encourage me to attempt a ride up the back of Mt Lemmon. They assure me it is newbie friendly and something I can totally handle…on the TW200. I meet with a small group at Bill’s house to grab the TW. Another rider, Will, gifts me some amazing motocross boots and we head off in high spirits.


I think they are a product of the 80’s.

We parade off to the gas station where the main group is gathering.


There were about 25 riders that day!

We take off and naturally start sectioning off into groups. I’m leading the rear pack with my friends Mike and Will on supermotos, Bill and a couple others who decide to hang back with me.

The first part of the ride is long graded dirt roads and we start really getting some speed up. I’m having a blast, but a little anxious about being so far behind the majority of the group. I give it some more throttle and the adrenaline really starts pumping. I come over a crest at around 35-40mph only to discover a sharp right turn on the other side. I know absolutely nothing about turning in dirt at speed and whatever default response I had was obviously a poor choice.

I’m not sure how exactly I dismounted the bike, I only recall skidding on my right hip and then consciously deciding to start rolling instead because I was getting some wicked road rash. I got up and checked my damage. A rock had embedded itself in the middle of a nice patch of missing skin to create a bullet wound effect. Click for nastiness

I apologize profusely about the TW. Luckily they are fairly tough and the bike sustained only scratches on the plastics here and there. I slapped a band aid on myself and catch up to the group who were waiting patiently under a tree. They wanted to know what was taking so long and why I’m covered in dirt.

I am a lot more cautious after this. I have to keep repeating the “ride your own ride” mantra. It can be hard being a new rider in a group of people who are very experienced. But you can’t ride as fast as them, not for a long time, so don’t try. It’s painful.

Eventually we reach the summit and have some delicious pizza before descending down the paved front of the mountain. Nice tarmac twisties were a pleasant contrast to the rocky climb up the back.

Getting Dirty for the First Time

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I settled up paperwork for the KLR but would have to wait a week or so for Beast’s owner to pay off the lien and get the title. In the meantime, I needed to get educated on shifting and how not to stall, so I could actually do something with the bike once I got it home. Luckily, I had recently befriended some local dual sport riders from advrider.com and got hooked up with a little TW200 to practice on. Another ADV rider, Brian, had been dirt riding for a while and his girlfriend Marisa wanted to get in on it too, so he took the two of us out to the desert for a learning day. This went well. The TW was forgiving, low to the ground and extremely stable over questionable terrain. I had a couple close calls, but saved it before it dumped each time. My fellow learning buddy wasn’t as lucky and went down on a rocky wash, suffering minor scrapes. I was proud of her though, she dusted off, bandaged up and went out for a second session the same day. This time we both kept upright.

Enter the Beast

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One look was all it took. I set eyes upon an ’08 blue KLR and I knew that it had to be mine. It didn’t matter that it was tall and I didn’t know how to shift or ride dirt, I had visions of adventure dancing in my head! A thirst that must be quenched! I imagined myself jumping on and riding off into the sunset.

Pssh, I thought, it can’t be -that- different than a scooter!

Actually yes, yes it can.

My fantasies (delusions?) were dashed on the test ride. I stopped on a slight slope with my toe dangling just above the ground. My fashionably impractical scootering boots slid slowly out on the tiny gravel bits as the bike leaned further and further and got heavier and heavier until it plopped almost slow motion onto its side on the pavement. Dammit! It’s not even mine yet and I already dumped it. Apparently I wasn’t a dual sporting prodigy with an inborn knowledge of how to do this.

Like most things in life worth doing, this was going to take practice. Practice and many more embarrasing episodes of motorcycle narcolepsy.

The bike’s current owner seemed unaffected by the added scratches, but solidified in his opinion that I was insane. Probably because I got back on and did a couple laps to recoup some confidence. I was determined to ride this bike, whatever it took.


My first ride on the KLR

I returned a couple days later to put down a deposit. He was about to eat dinner and suggested I take the bike for a spin until he was done and then we could settle up paperwork. I was understandably nervous after the last episode, but excitement won out and I took him up on it.

I made it down a few side streets before coming to a stop sign. I stalled getting going again and the bike lurched forward hard. I felt as though I’d been thrown by a bull and the beast fell down beside me. Crap!

(At this point I will plead with other newbie readers to please take an MSF class. I really had no business trying to ride around like that without instruction. Learning the hard way is…hard. So is pavement.)

Unable to bear the shame of calling for help, I mustered all the strength within me to heft the mighty beast upright again. I put it on the kickstand and rested for a while. “You’re a heavy beast.” I panted as I slumped over the seat, completely drained of energy. I decided then that Beast would be his name. I managed to get back on and putt back without stalling again.

We settled up the paperwork and Beast was mine! Now I just had to…learn to ride it…

Scooters are a Gateway Drug

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I distinctly remember a conversation from my childhood when my sister declared she wanted a motorcycle one day. I wrinkled my nose at the thought, “OH GOD WHY?! That’s stupid! You’ll die!”. She just shrugged and we didn’t talk about it again. For some reason as a child I was convinced that riding a motorcycle was a near suicidal act. No sister of mine was going to do something so foolish!

Fast forward to around a year ago. Everyone is freaking out over the gas crisis and my hand-me-down Toyota 4Runner is on it’s last leg. I drive past a scooter shop and my boyfriend Sean and I start talking about the benefits of two small vehicles versus one lumbering gas guzzler.

Scooters are disarmingly cute little buggers. They just look so harmless and friendly, they beg to be sat on. I took a test ride in the back parking lot and had a permanent smile glued to my face for hours. Suddenly I understood the attraction.  A few months later Sean and I had scooters of our own. My car sat parked for nearly a month until a friend asked me to pick him up at the train station. Driving my old SUV felt slow, unweildy and wasteful. I hated every second of it. I posted it on craigslist and sold it the next day.


My lovely scooter, Bella.

After a year of solely riding the scooter I have had my eyes opened to the freedoms of two wheeled travel. I became addicted to the heightened sense of awareness and being in the moment that riding gives you. In my car I felt like a zombie, but on the bike I feel so alive and rejuvenated. A woman in one of my classes once asked me “Aren’t you scared?”

I replied without thinking “No. I’m too busy having fun!”

I put about 7000 miles on the scooter that year, riding in the scooter rally to Nogales and visiting my parents up near Parker Canyon Lake. I fell in love with not only the scooter, but the whole community. We joined a scooter club for weekend rides and rode in the X-mas parade with our scooters covered in tinsel and lights.


Sean in the Christmas spirit.

I was beginning to see the limits of my little 125cc scooter though. Despite her being fast enough for anywhere around town (and fast enough to earn me a speeding ticket!), she wasn’t safe or legal for the freeway and the back roads were inefficient. I found myself in Maui over the summer, couchsurfing (If you don’t know what couchsurfing is go check it out…and stay with us if you find yourself down in Tucson!) with a guy who owned a Harley. To my surprise he not only took me for a ride on the back, but even let me steer! I was amazed at the 2-up stability of the larger bike. Immediately after the ride I had to go to the airport and fly to Honolulu. As I went through security and waited to board the plane, my heart was still pounding like mad. I just sat with my eyes closed the whole flight, reliving every moment of the ride. I knew I had it bad. I needed a motorcycle.


Riding with Tim in Maui

I lusted after every motorcycle in Honolulu, several times seriously considering asking random strangers for a ride (in the end my lack of helmet and the horrible traffic were enough to convince me otherwise). Luckily, my next stop, Kauai, I couchsurfed with a nice older man who rode a Virago. He took me out on the back all around south Kauai up to Wimea Canyon. I was again impressed at the power and stability of the larger bikes as we encountered strong winds and gravel roads.


Riding with John on Kaui


The breathtaking Wimea Canyon

You would think these rides would have me longing for a bike of the cruiser variety, but I was steered towards adventure bikes by my choice of vacation reading material. I brought with me Lois on the Loose and Red Tape, White Knuckles. Lois Pryce is an amazing lady and her treks across the Americas and Africa completely blew my mind. I’ve done my share of backpacking in Europe and some in South America and the thought of combining my love of travel with my newfound love of motorcycles was enough to make me positively giddy.

I arrived home and said to Sean “I think we should buy motorcycles”, his reply? “I was waiting for the day you’d say that!” and so began our search for dual sport bikes…