Cycle News is a weekly magazine that covers all aspects of motorcycling including Supercross, Motocross and MotoGP as well as new motorcycles
Issue link: https://magazine.cyclenews.com/i/125978
By Lois Carey -w- Things have been zippiu' right along SInce my article, "A Broad's Look At Motorcycling," in the January 8, 1974 issue of Cycle N ews. My riding skill has improved, I've taken my bike trailing in several of the western state s and have had a heckuva good time. My m otorcycle has made a lot of changes in my life, but one thing hasn 't changed over the past year; my age ! I'm exercising my female perogative to st ay 40 for at least one more year. Some things should be le ft the way they are. My 01' Man and I have covered a lot of ground on our trailbikes since I reported last. We've ridden the mountains and deserts o f California, the vastness of Arizona; the high trails of northern New Mexico and what I found to be the prettiest country of all Colorado. I've found that the more I ride my trusty Yamaha in the boondocks the more in teres ting and exciting scenes I come across. Take, for instance, the re-opening of many of the long-closed gold mines on the Southern California mountainsides or the re-awakening of the desert gold diggin's of the Mojave and Colorado Deserts (both in California and not to be confused with the State of Colorado). Some of the roads that used to be o pe n to the public have now been closed off t9 keep intruders away from certain mining operations. One of the really surprising and fun rides we had this past year took place near the Marine Corps base at 29 Palms, California. My 0 1' Man and I were trailing' along, skirting the emptiness of the remote outer boundary of th e base when we stopped fo r a minu te to enjoy the desert quiet. As we wer e sitting, helmets off, on our now-silent machines , I could hear what sounded lik e two guys yell ing back and fo rth at each o the r. We looked at one an ot her in wondermen t, th en he poin ted to t he sky wh ere I saw two fre e-fallin g sky dive rs! They were shouting and laughin g and havin g one good time as they fell toward the dry lake be d do wn slo pe from us . I knew th ey were dropping over a hundred mile s p er hour. It was only th en that I noticed, way up in the blue, the light plane that drop ped them. I ca ught mysel f ch an ting, " Pul l th e ripcord, p ull the rip cord," as th ey seeme d to fall and fall and fall. Fin ally , when their ' ch u te s popped open, they drifted to earth, gab bing to each other like two men really enjoy ing their lot in life. _ We rode down to the dry lake and : _ found a truck and the sk ydivers ' pickup ",-.-- crew parked next to a nearby hill. _. _ Turned out to be a bunch o f Mari n es ~Ciidiiig- we ekends jumping o ut of -,~~ es; -Y o u never know what yo u'll . .. '""- . -... com e across in the desert! In th e fall we really "got our ac t to gether. " After stuffing our van full of camping gear and t he two Yamahas, we se t out to exp lo re the Southwest; first stop, Arizona . I'd always thought of Arizona as bein g sparsely covered desert. Not so ! Mile-hig h Presco tt chan ged my mind about t hat. There are p ine tr ees, lak es and for us trail-riders, lots o f qui e t mountain roads in the Na ti o nal For est right near th e public and private ca mpgroun ds (o ur camp was a KOA, - 34 close by a sm all fishin g lak e ). The forest sme lle d so good and on my bike I was right o u t there am ong st th e sights and aromas . There 's a grea t deal of rid ing ro om in the high fo rests o f northern Ariz o na. Much of the land is owned by the Indian tribes, but th ere was pl en ty o f publi c territory for us to ride in . We simply picked a spot on th e lo cal map and " too k off. " Remember, th is was only our firs t stop. I'm a bi g admirer of Lo uis L'Amour, the fine writer of western novels. Man y of his b oo ks men tion t he Sangre De Cristo (Blood of Christ ) moun tain s near Taos , New Mexico. I had to see th em for myself, so we pointed the blue van eastward again. you like h istory, No w , if snow-capped peaks, high plains co un try and spe ctacular river gorges; y ou 11 love Ta os. Our camp there was righ t at the foo t o f the Sangre De Cristos (KOA again ) and south of town. My Yamaha is street-legal so I could do more than jus t ride the forest roads. I was abl e to ride in to town, take the hi ghway to the Rio Grande river and take a loo k at the oldest "apartment house" in America , bull t by the Pueblo Indians. In town I discovered stores displaying the best collection of western art, scu lp tur e an d jewelry I've ever seen. I especially enjoyed touring the Kit Carson museum . Forest access roads began just behind the campgro und. Since Taos is situated at nearly 7000 feet , the National Forest roads climbing in to the Sangre De Cris to s ab ove took us to rarified air in no tim e at all. On a clear d ay yo u can see for a hundred miles over th e Rio Gran de valley. The snow way up top mad e it kinda cool , but we were d ressed for it. Abo ut eight mil es out o f town we rode across the bridge spanning the Rio Gran de Go rge. We had been riding the roa d on th e high valley floor, the snow-ti pped mountains be hind us and then, bingo, all of a sudden , th ere it was ; that gre at gash in th e gro und. No w, I'm none too fond o f hei ghts, so looking do wn 650 feet to the b otto m of th e canyon didn 't do my qu easy st o mach any good. Still , once I was firm ly an chored on th e solid ground at th e end of th e spa n I coul d stop and admire the breath-taking scenery. Go t so me fine colo r photos too. The oldest " apartment h ouse " is just north of Taos. For over 8 00 years the Indian have lived in their pueblo th ere. We pi cked a ' bright sunn y day to ride fro m camp to th e multi-story ad o be comp lex. It cost a sm all fee to b e allowed to take pictures of th e Indians and th eir ancient home. By no w we 'd heard ab out th e fantastic fall colo rs in western Colorado. I _hadn 't b een there since I was a tiny ch ild so I trul y didn't know wha t to expect. We took o ff o nce more in th e . van . This time north to th e Rockies. Twelve miles n orth o f Durango, Colo rado , in the heart of the Ani mas Valley, we decided to camp for th e night. Our plan was to stay ov er fo r a day, th en we would continue o n. Do n 't y ou believe it .. . we stayed six days! That 's how neat it was t he re o n th e banks of the Animas River. Bein g a native Californian , I'd ne ver seen q u akin g aspe n in their au tumn hues, n or had I see n reds, ambers and greens like western Colo rado in the fall. During the day I ro de in T-shirt temp~ratures. At n ight, sometimes we 'd have a light r ain p attering on the roof of th e van along with co ol, " good for slee pi ng" te mperatures . Next morning th ere would be fluffl y whi te clou ds against a blue sm ogless sky . Incredible wea ther! Ani mas Valley itself is at an altitu de of 6 800 feet. The mo untains sweep up It was so nea t o n the banks of t he An imas River t hat w e stayed on six days , instead of o nly one as we had planned.