50 years old.
Fifty...1/2 a century...the Big 5-0...
I'd been really looking forward to turning 50 for the last few years. I don't know why, it's not necessarily something to be proud of, I just thought it sounded good. My 49th year was pretty rockin', I'm happier and healthier than I've been in years, and I was really looking forward to getting a jump start on the 2nd half of this awesome life of mine. I wanted to do something special to celebrate the occasion. Call me boring or unimaginative but the thing I wanted to do most was to immerse myself in the things I love the most: riding, camping, soaking and the company of good friends and the man I love. So that's exactly what I did!
Eric and I loaded up the 610's and left town after work on Wednesday March 6th. Conditions were ever-changing in the snow-stormy Sierra re: chain controls so we sort of winged it on the way. We ended up going over 50 with no chains and connecting to 395 via 89 and 88. It was a little dicey and slidey in some spots but in the end we pulled into the cute little county park in Walker safe and sound and spent the night there.
The next morning was my actual birthday and I began the day in style...
I opened up presents and cards from my 4 sisters while breaking my fast on caffeine and sugar. I miss my sisters and this card made me cry...
We headed south on 395, watching the swirling and dancing snow almost the whole way to Mammoth...
Stopped in Mammoth for a real breakfast and watched a very healthy coyote saunter across the parking lot. He'd disappeared between the buildings by the time I grabbed my camera.
Ahh...let the birthday celebration begin!
We soaked for an hour or so then headed east to our campsite. I was really curious as to what it was going to look like...I was hoping it was a good one. My reaction when I saw it? "YAY!!!"
We unloaded the bikes, set up camp, and went to cut firewood...
We'd entertained the thought of going out for a quick ride before anyone got there but decided to make the most of the solitude and privacy...
Well, we weren't exactly alone. This little guy kept us company...
We pretty much soaked and sipped the day away while waiting for our friends to arrive. It turned into a beautiful day and the sun and silence and hot mineral water were absolutely perfect.
The first to arrive were Dan, Steve and Stevie...
Dan would be manning the SuperTenere. I've known Dan for almost 20 years. We met on a snowy sport bike ride/camp through Death Valley that saw us leaving the Bay Area in driving rain, riding over Carson Pass in the snow, riding our sport bikes off road, getting tickets, and eating "rotisserie" chicken cooked over a fire on a cordless drill. Needless to say we've been friends ever since
Steve would be riding his Husky TE610. Steve started showing up at the enduros about 11 or 12 years ago and we became friends despite him being a soccer-loving Englishman and talking all funny and stuff. Steve was on my minute 10 years ago (before he quit sandbagging and moved up a class) for the most memorable enduro any of us has ever done.
Stevie Jean would be riding her sweet plated KTM 400. She's Steve's daughter and she talks just as funny as he does. She's a rock solid rider just like her dad, though, and I'd ride with her anywhere...
The English contingent broke out the bottles of scotch (yes, plural) and soaked the night away with us until Glen showed up. We ran into Glen...quite literally...on a trail down at Kennedy Meadows about 12 years ago. Dan sort of punted Glen off the trail with flesh wound and bike retrieval drama ensuing. A few months later Glen showed up at an enduro at Middle Creek and, well, here we are! We like him even though he's a redheaded Republican that never fails to get us back to camp long after dark. Follow him at your own risk. Glen would be trying to keep up with the big dogs on his very sweet Husaberg 450.
Paul showed up even later, having had to chain up several times in order to get him and his Husky TE630 over the big hill. I've not known Paul as long as the others but he's got the spark, for sure. He's an airline pilot, he knows how to get it done on his TE630 (easier than that GS1200 of yours, eh, Paul?) and he is an absolute riot to be around. His child-like wonder and endless enthusiasm for everything was a good addition to the old guard, for sure.
In my fairly inebriated state I thought Glen was setting his motorhome on fire. Turns out he was just being nice...
CAKE!!!
You can't see it through the hellacious conflagration but there's a motorcycle on that cake! Thanks, Glen and Cheri!
The rest of the evening was somewhat of a blur for some reason, but I'd have to say that my 50th birthday was one of the best ever...and we hadn't even gone for a ride yet!
More later!
Fifty...1/2 a century...the Big 5-0...
I'd been really looking forward to turning 50 for the last few years. I don't know why, it's not necessarily something to be proud of, I just thought it sounded good. My 49th year was pretty rockin', I'm happier and healthier than I've been in years, and I was really looking forward to getting a jump start on the 2nd half of this awesome life of mine. I wanted to do something special to celebrate the occasion. Call me boring or unimaginative but the thing I wanted to do most was to immerse myself in the things I love the most: riding, camping, soaking and the company of good friends and the man I love. So that's exactly what I did!
Eric and I loaded up the 610's and left town after work on Wednesday March 6th. Conditions were ever-changing in the snow-stormy Sierra re: chain controls so we sort of winged it on the way. We ended up going over 50 with no chains and connecting to 395 via 89 and 88. It was a little dicey and slidey in some spots but in the end we pulled into the cute little county park in Walker safe and sound and spent the night there.
The next morning was my actual birthday and I began the day in style...
I opened up presents and cards from my 4 sisters while breaking my fast on caffeine and sugar. I miss my sisters and this card made me cry...
We headed south on 395, watching the swirling and dancing snow almost the whole way to Mammoth...
Stopped in Mammoth for a real breakfast and watched a very healthy coyote saunter across the parking lot. He'd disappeared between the buildings by the time I grabbed my camera.
Ahh...let the birthday celebration begin!
We soaked for an hour or so then headed east to our campsite. I was really curious as to what it was going to look like...I was hoping it was a good one. My reaction when I saw it? "YAY!!!"
We unloaded the bikes, set up camp, and went to cut firewood...
We'd entertained the thought of going out for a quick ride before anyone got there but decided to make the most of the solitude and privacy...
Well, we weren't exactly alone. This little guy kept us company...
We pretty much soaked and sipped the day away while waiting for our friends to arrive. It turned into a beautiful day and the sun and silence and hot mineral water were absolutely perfect.
The first to arrive were Dan, Steve and Stevie...
Dan would be manning the SuperTenere. I've known Dan for almost 20 years. We met on a snowy sport bike ride/camp through Death Valley that saw us leaving the Bay Area in driving rain, riding over Carson Pass in the snow, riding our sport bikes off road, getting tickets, and eating "rotisserie" chicken cooked over a fire on a cordless drill. Needless to say we've been friends ever since
Steve would be riding his Husky TE610. Steve started showing up at the enduros about 11 or 12 years ago and we became friends despite him being a soccer-loving Englishman and talking all funny and stuff. Steve was on my minute 10 years ago (before he quit sandbagging and moved up a class) for the most memorable enduro any of us has ever done.
Stevie Jean would be riding her sweet plated KTM 400. She's Steve's daughter and she talks just as funny as he does. She's a rock solid rider just like her dad, though, and I'd ride with her anywhere...
The English contingent broke out the bottles of scotch (yes, plural) and soaked the night away with us until Glen showed up. We ran into Glen...quite literally...on a trail down at Kennedy Meadows about 12 years ago. Dan sort of punted Glen off the trail with flesh wound and bike retrieval drama ensuing. A few months later Glen showed up at an enduro at Middle Creek and, well, here we are! We like him even though he's a redheaded Republican that never fails to get us back to camp long after dark. Follow him at your own risk. Glen would be trying to keep up with the big dogs on his very sweet Husaberg 450.
Paul showed up even later, having had to chain up several times in order to get him and his Husky TE630 over the big hill. I've not known Paul as long as the others but he's got the spark, for sure. He's an airline pilot, he knows how to get it done on his TE630 (easier than that GS1200 of yours, eh, Paul?) and he is an absolute riot to be around. His child-like wonder and endless enthusiasm for everything was a good addition to the old guard, for sure.
In my fairly inebriated state I thought Glen was setting his motorhome on fire. Turns out he was just being nice...
CAKE!!!
You can't see it through the hellacious conflagration but there's a motorcycle on that cake! Thanks, Glen and Cheri!
The rest of the evening was somewhat of a blur for some reason, but I'd have to say that my 50th birthday was one of the best ever...and we hadn't even gone for a ride yet!
More later!
One of these days I'd like to just tour the west and hit up all the hot springs I haven't seen yet. We'll get there!
