As the flag dropped and I took the first sharp
left, I looked down and noticed I had forgotten to turn the lights on. Not only
that, but I had also forgotten to start my GPS watch so I could track my miles.
Not off to a great start, but here we go.
The nights in Baja had been beautiful all week
during our pre-running. Moonlit, dry and not too cold. Of course, it was not to
be tonight. Pretty thick fog had rolled in with the darkness, as the moisture
hung in the air.
I made my way down a few streets and dropped down
into what was known as “the wash.” The wash, of course, lived up to its name
and had some water in it. When I had pre-run earlier in the day I had gone
around these water holes, but there was no time now, so I cracked the throttle.
Following motorcycle lines, I hoped bikes that just left before me would have
scouted out any booby traps locals might have set in the dark. Traps are always in your mind as you come up on
larger crowds of people. Sometimes they are looking for a show and if the
course is not giving it to them, they make their own.
Getting out of town was a nerve-wrecking
experience; the first thing that comes to my mind is some kind of "spirit
world" scene. Fog, darkness, dust, dogs and the campfires from locals
lining the course, all combine to give you a type of sensory overload. I had to
slow down, calm down, and get through without wrenching the bike.
I had a lot of light on the bike. I had so much
light that when I had the high beam on and it hit the dust and fog it looked
like a white curtain. I decided to keep the big light off and work my way
through the darkness.
After falling on a nice little hill climb, I
was starting to get in a small rhythm and repeating to my self,"Just get
the bike to Kelly."
I was clear of Ensenada.
We had planned for the chase team to be at the
first highway crossing to check on me as I came through. But I never saw them
and they never saw me. Thankfully, the spot tracker was working at that time so
they moved to the next designated rider swap spot.
The section to the rider swap was about 40 miles from
the highway and I had a pit stop to breathe for a few seconds. The terrain was
so much softer than when I had pre-run it earlier in the week. The big trucks
and buggies had been through on their pre-runs, so I had try to go fast enough
to be able to steer and stay on the top, but slow enough to not get my self in
trouble. "Just get the bike to Kelly."
I made it to the rider swap and I was glad to see
the chase team. Kelly Huffman was pumped and ready to go, he was going over the
summit, a large task. I killed the bike and checked the oil. Crap!! It
was a little low…NOT GOOD!! I had only gone 80 miles. I added oil and told
Kelly to check it again as he ripped off into the darkness.
Tim and Rafa, our northeast chase crew, and the
two riders, my brother Clint and I, loaded up in the Tahoe to meet Kelly where
I was going to get back on the bike.
A few miles down the road Tim looked down at the
dash, the Tahoe was not charging!!! We have miles to go before the next rider
swap, it's the middle of the night, and we are on a dangerous winding road.
Without a properly working alternator, we will drain the battery, lose lights
and eventually lose power to keep the truck running. I told him don't use the
high beam, and drive faster. Tim said a prayer and we all said, “Amen!!”
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