TemecuCoastie
Husqvarna
Pro Class
I hadn't seen my riding buddy, Christi for a few months. She was busy with work, her hubby, and her racing friends. But she finally decided to do a bit of dualsporting last Friday and put out the call. As it turned out, I was the only one who answered, but that's okay because we do very well as a trail duo.
We met at the usual spot next to the Mobil station in Anza. It looked like we might be in for some weather at some point during the day, judging from the clouds lurking around. As we prepared to embark on our daylong adventure, we were treated to a somewhat hilarious crash performed by the town drunk. He had gone to the gas station on his mini bike, and as he left, he pulled straight out of the driveway and ran across the street, endoing into the curb on the other side. His baseball cap went flying, along with his false choppers and his loafers. He crawled around in the tumbleweeds until he located his teeth and put them them back in, then got his hat and shoe, some loose change, and beat a hasty retreat into the field behind the station. I somehow imagine that he does that at least once a week.
Weather brewing in Anza.
We took the back trails through the 'hood, then went up Tripp Flats road to Red Mountain truck trail. At the end of that route is a fire tower. The gate was open when we arrived, so went on up to have a look. The volunteer ranger waved us on up, and we visited for a spell. He and his buddy must get bored up there. But we had to move on so that we could hit Idylwild in time for lunch, so bid our new friends a fond farewell and picked our way down Hixon trail.
A view of Diamond Valley Lake from the top of Red Mountain.
Looking north from the fire tower.
Looking west from the fire tower.
Looking straight down from the fire tower was a pretty nice view, too.
Christi reads a pamphlet while Moon Odom (you think his parents might have been hippies?) gets a guest log for us to sign.
After Hixon, the next dirt we would see would be after we left Hemet and turned onto Bee Canyon road. There were a few scattered sprinkles along the way, and the pavement was wet when we arrived at Idylwild.
On Bee Canyon road.
We decided to dine at an quaint Italian restaurant called Cafe Aroma, where the bread comes with a saucer of olive oil and freshly grated garlic, and the iced tea comes with a tiny pitcher of raspberry syrup to flavor it with. I might add that the rest of the food was great too, as was the service, and prices reasonable too for that type of fare.
We decided to ride off a bit of our lunch by heading up to Humber park, before leaving town.
At Humber park. I'm sure this rock dome has some well known name. It just escapes my memory right now.
Posing with some roadside folk art on the way back down from Humber Park.
We had planned to ride our usual secret loop in Garner Valley, but by the time we reached Mountain Center, the storming had commenced. With thunder and lightening all around us, and thoroughly soaked, we stopped at the Lake Hemet market to sit out the brunt of the squall.
Finally things cleared up enough and we departed.
But when we got to the fire road that led to the fun trail, there was a sign up that forbid any entry due to "unsafe fire related conditions". We decided not to bring the wrath of any rangers upon our heads, and went up the highway to our next dirt route.
On the last leg of our fun adventure. Another secret trail, made awesome by rain.
What a poser.
Almost done, with Anza off in the distance.
The last trail was a hoot. The deluge had left huge cuts and gouges in the long forgotten trail, and we dodged and hopped them as we went. There was only about a mile or less of dirt before we would pop up onto highway 371. We were coming up a hill just west of the dry reservoir, and it was heavily carved out from the rush of storm water. We were moving along over the soft, rock filled soil in second gear, climbing at a moderate angle. We had to cross some ruts about halfway up. I was in the lead. I sized up this one rut....it looked as easy as could be....rolling into it with uninterrupted momentum, and quite relaxed....
That was about the last thing that I remember that made any sense. The next thing I knew was that it seemed like a land mine went off under my 450. But that was the blurry part. I remember the bike going...ah...no, I don't....I remember hitting the ground head first, then my shoulder....then the rest of my body came down with an awful thud.
The engine of the TE was still running....there was an excruciating pain on the left side of my ribcage....my head hurt....I thought I was going to black out....Looking back, I saw Christi was off her bike, her eyes filling her helmet. I lay back....I heard Christi say "That was scary". I think I mentioned that it was scarier from my vantage point. I crawled to the kill switch and shut off the machine. Christi was making her way across the rut. She asked if I was all right, and I answered that I didn't think so. I finally gathered my scrambled brains back together and waited for the damage reports to start coming in. They were not good, even though I didn't see any blood coming through my jersey anywhere.
"What the hell just happened?" That was my question. Christi said that as I started through the rut, which split at the exit point, I dislodged a very large rock that got under the bike, sending it into the air, backend first. The front end then went into one of the cuts on the exit end, and the backend came down in the other cut. It happened so quickly and violently, it was just brutal. I had no chance to react to it.
I'm still not sure of what happened.
We started to lift the bike together, and that's when I discovered that my ribs were either broken or damaged in some way. I could get full breaths, but it was somewhat painful. My left arm worked...but not if had any load on it, or else it would hurt my ribs. Christi lifted the bike and moved it to a safer, more level area, then carefully removed the giant rock from the rut and picked her way through on her KTM. There was less than a mile of dirt left, and only a couple of miles of highway till we would get back to my car, but it was the most painful few miles that I have ever had to ride. I have not had a such a painful and injurious crash for many years, and I'm really too old to sustain that kind of punishment at my age.
Eerily, I have very few abrasions, and almost no bruising, except on the shoulder that I landed on. There is a very small bruise on my forehead, and there are knots on my forearms from hitting something. I have no idea what my ribs hit....maybe the handlebars? I don't know.
The bike landed on its left side, but the righthand peg got crushed....by the big rock?
I already replaced the peg, even though I am going to be out of commission for a while.
For some odd reason, sleeping is the worst. Laying down on my back, or even on my right side seems to cause a lot of pain, plus it's hard to even get horizontal without it hurting. Then it hurts again to get up in the morning. I am resting up and taking lots of arnica to help get rid of all the inflammation so that I can heal faster.
Gotta put this at the top of my list of things I don't want to do anymore.
Is that Christi from "Duffyland" in that pic? An old school mate.
