Camping, climbing, and a real dirt bike adventure!

   After months of working, being injured, and more recently turning my brain inside out with that horrendous income tax class (yes, I admit that was a terrible idea) Kit and I finally made our escape to find some fun over Thanksgiving. Original plans were to go south to Joshua Tree and/or Bootleg Canyon near Las Vegas for climbing and mountain biking, but I still lacked a bike and Kit had to work through Wednesday so we figured it made more sense to stay closer to home and venture only a few hours south on the eastern Sierra. Being able to do anything at all gives me a whole lot to be thankful for, seeing as how a year ago I was mainly horizontal, barely able to get around the house, bored as heck and completely depressed.

   We decided to pack climbing gear and dirt bikes, as I'm beginning to turn into a real moto addict but not quite going to give up on climbing yet. However, the CRF 230 I was supposed to be riding now needed a new clutch, which was almost done but for one last part that we didn't know needed replacing until it was all taken apart 3 days before we left. The little 125 had not sold yet so we loaded it into the trailer, only then noticing that the front tire was flat--at 5:30 on Wednesday evening the day before Thanksgiving--probably impossible to get a new tube at that point and nobody would be open until at least Friday. Oh, the problems those dang machines can have!

The view from a perfect campsite.

    Oh well. Off to Bridgeport for a hot spring soak and some sleep, and we can try to at least patch the tube in the morning. Thanksgiving morning was beautiful and relatively warm at the higher elevation of Bridgeport so instead of going straight to Bishop we went southeast toward Benton and one of our favorite spots to climb and camp. Nobody else was there, of course, and we scored a spectacular camping spot among some boulders with a view of the nearby crags and the mountains off in the distance. After unpacking we set about removing the inner tube from my bike to see if it was repairable; it turned out to be a torn valve stem, not good. We still tried to fix it and may perhaps have succeeded if not for pinching the tube while re-installing the tire on the rim. At that point I just said forget it--I'll ride on the flat tire so we can go exploring a little bit. Might as well go for a short ride to work up an appetite before digging into the Moroccan lamb and root vegetable stew I prepared the previous afternoon for our Thanksgiving feast. 

Boundary Peak at the northern end of the White Mountains.

   I pulled out the map for some ideas and we got on the main dirt road heading south from the crags, looking for a road that crossed over into the valley. A few dead ends and one giant mine hole in the ground later we followed a faint double track going in the right direction until it dropped steeply into a loose rocky gully. I contemplated the steep pitch and my flat front tire, wondering if my little bike would make it back out, but as Kit disappeared down the trail I dove in figuring that we'd get out of there one way or another. After the gully the trail crossed onto a ridge with a stunning view of the White Mountains and wound down toward the valley, where I stopped to take some photos and wait for Kit to come back up the hill a few minutes later.

   It seemed like a good idea to turn around at this point and make sure we still had light to get back to camp. Getting my bike up the gully was not much of an issue, though it was quite squirrelly in the loose dirt and rocks and took a bit of effort to point the right direction. We didn't get to see where that trail ended up this time, but it will be waiting for next time we make it down there. 

   Friday morning we decided to go climbing despite forgetting to pack the guidebook for the area. There was one particular south facing wall (the Lost Piton Rock) that I remembered with a handful of fun bolted sport routes, including some very long ones, only a short ride up the road plus a five minute hike. We packed up and got on the dirt bikes to zip up the road; those are a novel climbing approach tool and I'm a big fan! 

Kit warming up on the 10a

Me battling the roof on the 10b - toprope hero!

   The climbing was just as fun and interesting as I remembered: decent quality granite with a variety of thin face moves, a crack section, giant plates, a couple of small roofs. I decided to tell my hip that I wasn't going to baby it this time, so high stepping and any other weird yoga moves that were required would all be done unless there was major pain. There was no pain and I was able to get up every climb without falling or hanging. It was great having the whole crag to ourselves as well; the climbing at Owens River Gorge is excellent, but it starts feeling like a gym at times with all the people around, having to choose climbs according to the fewest number waiting in line. It was refreshing to have such a positive experience and that really motivated both of us to try to get back on the rock more often.

   We climbed until my fingers were raw and toes hurt from squishing into tiny shoes, and then packed up camp to go in search of a motorcycle shop in Mammoth Lakes for a new inner tube and some ideas about fun places to ride. It was Friday on a holiday weekend so we were fortunate to find a place open that could help. It turns out that Bishop has the best riding in the area so that's where we ended up; camping at the windy hole in the ground Pit campground with some climbing friends from north Lake Tahoe. They tried to talk us into climbing on Saturday as Kit changed out the tube on my bike, but we were too excited to see some new trails, and not so into dealing with holiday weekend hordes of people at the Gorge. The wind was also picking up quite a bit blowing away tents, dishes, clothing, and whatever else wasn't tied down. 

   Looking at the map and remembering some of the shop employee's comments we drove to the base of the Silver Canyon road to begin, thinking it might be a scenic if not somewhat mellow ride up. As we unloaded and got ready a handful of unmodified SUVs and trucks passed and went up the canyon, and I began to think we might get terribly bored riding up that way. Inspecting the map again it seemed like we could ride south to the Black Canyon road or the Poleta OHV area and up from there to make somewhat of a loop coming back down Silver Canyon at the end. 

Somewhere around 3000 ft above the Owens Valley.

   We didn't quite make it to Black Canyon, getting slightly mixed up on dirt roads and ending up on some double track trails in the OHV area. From there we randomly chose a jeep road that started rather steeply uphill, posing some challenges for my bike but nothing impossible when wide open in first gear. Weeeeee!!! Sometimes the deep dust made it feel like I was on a swing bike, with front and back wheels pointing all different ways. Kit flew up the trail and I stubbornly putted along behind until we reached a mine burrowed into the hillside at the end of the road. 

The un-named mine up Poleta/Russell Canyon.

   We stopped for a photo and then wandered around for a minute, following some dirt bike tracks to a little trail that continued winding uphill from the mine. It looked way too intriguing to pass up so we started up it. It got a little bit technical right away and Kit asked if I wanted to keep going. My mountain bike self said sure why not, it looks totally do-able... Kit continued on and I followed, not having much trouble riding but holy moly it was exposed!! I have gotten into my fair share of sketchy situations in the past between bikes and climbing in the mountains, so I'm not easily scared, but all of those are under human power. Adding an engine into the mix makes things seem slightly more likely to go out of control. There I was, the newbie dirt bike rider trying to keep steady on a trail barely wider than my handlebars, steep hillsides above and below covered in jumbles of sharp rocks, terrified that one wrong move with the throttle or steering would tumble me down the hill with the heavy machine and--at best--into the emergency room.
   Luckily there were only a couple more slightly technical spots that I could crawl through with my feet out, and there were no steep loose hill climbs to get sideways on. Kit stopped again before the trail wrapped around the end of the canyon and asked if I was still doing all right. At that point probably about 10 minutes in there was no way in heck I wanted to turn around and go back down that! Onward! Besides it appeared as though the trail widened a little bit after crossing the canyon...

Finally at the top of the sketchy trail!

   Oops--not really. The trail got even narrower and more terrifying for the next few minutes. My right foot peg dragged in the dirt on the uphill side in some places as I tried to remind myself to take a breath now and then and to keep looking ONLY at where I wanted to go and NOT at the nearly sheer dropoff just below me with pointy rocks all over. If I was ever going to have a heart attack that would have been the place for sure, as I thought it might jump out of my chest for the entire 20 minutes or so that it took me to ride the scary part. Then to my relief the trail turned up a ridge and got steeper, but thankfully much wider. I reached the top of the climb and parked my bike, laying on the ground for a while until I could breathe normally again and chow an apple. It's been a long time since I have put myself in such a precarious situation, with the intense focus required for success, and it sure felt good to have made it through in one piece! By now I had a good idea of where we were on the map, and that we would not need to go back down that trail if we continued upward. Later internet research calls this singletrack the "woodcutter's trail" and I'm glad to not be the only one who found it quite intimidating.

Lunch break surroundings.

   I heard Kit coming back from exploring up the trail, and he had great news when he got to me: it got super fun up ahead, probably the best trail he's ridden. Hooray! I finished my snack and followed after him, weaving among bristlecone pines and colorful rocks lining the small canyon as the trail swooped back and forth. I grinned until my face hurt. We finally stopped for a break to scarf down some sandwiches partway up among the windswept trees, but couldn't wait to continue and see what else lay ahead. Most of it was mellow and uneventful; however we did upon a massive rock waterfall section about 30 feet long and quite steep, and this proved very entertaining to get Kit's bike to the top. On the first try his bike wheelied back and then tumbled all the way back to the bottom from the middle step (definitely the crux), and the second time he managed to send it uphill to the next step, which was then a little bit easier to get over to the top. My bike refused to go up at first but being a lot smaller we wrestled it partway up and Kit rode it the rest of the way--no wheelies for me.
   By then we wondered what else was in store on this trail, because it had not been bad at all until this particular part. We decided to continue on anyway since there was lots of daylight left and more trail to explore. It was fast and fun from there and a little ways past the waterfall another rider caught up with us; a local from Bishop who was incredibly surprised to see anybody else on the trail, and especially a girl on a TTR 125. I guess not many make it so far up there, and most folks riding those trails are on bigger bikes that climb the hills better. He was really friendly and offered some suggestions as to where we should go at the top, discouraging our initial plan to ride down Silver Canyon since it was a long boring ride on roads. He recommended either going back down another trail splitting off the one we came up or the Black Canyon road as a better loop alternative.

Old mines are everywhere in these mountains! Thanks to them we have many of these neat trails to ride...

   I was thoroughly worn out at this point and ready for a quick descent with no exposure to speak of, so I voted we take the Black Canyon jeep road down. Our new friend led us through the few intersections before the canyon began, at which point he split off to ride another singletrack loop before rejoining the road. The scenery was incredible as we wound into the heart of the canyon, flying below volcanic cliffs of all shades of black and brown and through groves of trees still covered in bright yellow leaves. Though not very steep or difficult, the road was covered in rocks and rattling me around like crazy, reminding me that I may be a little on the heavy side for that bike. It kind of felt like I was on my hardtail instead of a motorcycle with 12" of travel because I was having to pick my lines to avoid major bumps and going faster only made it harder to hold on.
   From the bottom of the canyon we successfully navigated the dirt roads back to the truck without getting lost, although it was a very windy ride. Cold beers were in order with some tailgate chill time to absorb the day's adventure and unwind my rattled skeleton and mind. The wind was relatively calm at the bottom of Silver Canyon as we hung out and packed up, but as we pulled out into the open valley it was blowing dust clouds and tumbleweeds all over.
   First we went to the store in Bishop to grab a couple of extra dinner ingredients, then back up to the Pit to cook. Up at camp the wind was gusting so horribly that neither of us really wanted to get out of the truck to start making food... yeah, a couple of wimps we are! Definitely missing the shelter of having a van to cook and hang out in. After a few minutes of indecision we went back into town to cook dinner in the grocery store parking lot, where the wind had slightly less force and not so much sand to blow around. As we cooked on the tailgate a car pulled up with a couple of friends inside hollering at us whom we never expected to run into in Bishop. They were coming back from a road trip farther south to Death Valley and were heading for June Lake to spend the night at a friend's house, which sounded like a much better plan to us than trying to sleep unobtrusively in town or being blown around at the dusty Pit.

Snow coming in over June Lake

   We followed them up to June Lake and figured the plan for Sunday would be determined by the weather. When we woke up to blue skies and a moderate cold wind it sounded like a short exploration of the local trails was in order before leaving for home. The Obsidian Dome, a nearby geological feature, looked to have a small network of jeep roads and a few ATV trails we could string together into a fun loop ride. All bundled up with warm gloves, a few small snowflakes drifted in the air as we rode toward the June Lake overlook on a whooped-out road. Very much like a pump track to ride, I was having no trouble staying warm with the workout of trying to keep Kit's dust in sight. The deep volcanic duff was interesting and a bit tricky to ride in, sometimes sending me a little sideways off a roller and making it really hard for my bike to climb anything steep. Even though I still couldn't keep up, and none of the trails were too technical, they still had good flow and we had a blast cruising around. A bonus was getting to see a giant mound of obsidian up close, and not just tiny chunks scattered on the ground. It's neat stuff!

Obsidian Dome tourist.

   We jam-packed enough fun into the last few days to go home before it got too dark and snowy. After this trip I feel a whole lot more confident with my dirt biking skills, and really can't wait to get the dang CRF 230 fixed so I can finally ride a bigger bike. I won't be hanging up the mountain bike any time soon but it sure is great to cover a lot of ground exploring and not be completely wrecked for days after. And it's undeniable how much fun it is! Learning new skills, tackling new challenges, and seeing new places--it's hard to wipe the perma-grin off my face after a weekend like that!