Cycle News - Archive Issues - 1980's

The Nevada 200, a by-invitation-only, weekend trail ride, took 60 riders through Nevada's scenic high country. The two-day trail ride offered technical, challenging terrain for the more skilled A riders, while B riders stuck to fairly well-defined trails and roads. The Nevada 200: A trail ride trek of discovery By Tom Van Beveren CAUENTE, NV, MAY 17 Caliente, Nevada, is a hard place to find, It once was a bustling railroad town with a population of thousands, but today is just a tiny speck on the road map, The small town is located about three hours, by car, northeast of Las Vegas. ' Around May of every year, a very 'select group of off-road riders get out their road maps and set off in search of the tiny town, traveling from all over the western United States to take part in one of the , country's most elite trail rides. The Nevada 200, as the event. is known, is the southwest's answer to the Colorado 500 - a 200-mile, weekend trek that takes a small group of invitation-only riders on a voyage of discovery through some of Nevada's most beautiful high country, providing a unique blend of challenging riding, spectacular scenery and close-knit camaraderi~. The ride is sponsored by the Best in the Desert organization, which is under the command of local Las Vegas off-road patriarch Casey Folks and desert ace Scot Harden. In the three short years since its inception, the cross-country trek has become one of the highlights of the motorcycling year for the few lucky riders asked to participate. "We started this because we thought there was a need for it," Folks explained. "We're all s,o busy with racing and working that we don't get any time to just go out and have fun on our motorcycles and that's what this is all about. "We've had nothing but a good response," said Folks. "A lot of people have heard about it and we usually have people waiting in line. We can't take everyone though, because the facilities in Caliente are pretty restricted. We have a limit of 60 riders because that's the number of motel beds there are in town." I was lucky enough to be one of this year's select few who gathered in Caliente on May 16. Bikes prepped and gear shining, we waited impatiently for the start of the first day's activities. After an early breakfast at the local VFW hall, it was time to mount up for an escorted ride through the streets of the town, out to the start of the trail. The riders were split ,into two groups. "When we started doing this, we knew there would be some guys who wanted to go on a fairly challenging ride but we didn't want to exclude the others," explained Harden. "I layout the A ride, and the main thing I look for is more technical, challenging terrain with no roads, and we ride at a faster pace. On the "B" ride, we try to stick to fairly wen-defined trails and roads. ' It's not as physically demanding and you can slow down and watch the scenery a bit more. " With, Harden out in front of the A riders and Folks leading the B division, we set off into the Nevada high country, and I soon found out that you should never trust a course description given by a world-class desert racer. Harden's, "well-defined tr<~iJs and roads," had sounded quiet and sedate - the type of ride more suited to wives on three-wheelers' than to a bunch of experienced and semi-serious trail riders. But those of us looking for challenge and exhil· aration were not disappointed. The B trail led us through deep sand washes lined with overhanging trees and littered with rocks, through sage brush that could tear you off the bike at anything over two mph, and through grassy fields strewn with cow chips where we played twowheel cowboy, weaving back and forth among the grazing cattle. And if.) the later stages of the day, as the pace--.quickened, Harder's, "slow down and watch the scenery," was more a matter of grabbing a quick glimpse as the roljntry-side raced past. Beautiful scenery; a challenging trail, and new friends' to share it with - it was a trail rider's dr~. As trail master for the B Group;' Folks kept the pace steady in the first section of the ride, giving us time to adapt to the buddy system of keeping track of our assigned partner and acting as corner markers for the pair of riders behind us so everyone could follow the unmarked trail. Mile after mile flew by as we played follow the leader through wide open spaces, riding up streams and down valleys, dodgmg wild horses and range cattle, and enjoying the unusually cool, overcast weather and the dust-free tractio~ provided by rain that fell the w~k before. The trailmaster called a halt for rest and regrouping about every 20 miles, and, each stop provided a full run·down on the history of the area, bringing the past alive with tales of gun battles, prospectors and early settlers. • And so the morning went history lessons, wide open spaces and the endless trail merged into an offroad rider's dream, broken only by, ."Big Bob" Maichle's support truck, whic!) appeared at regular intervals, bouncing along almost non-existent roads out in the middle of nowhere, bringing gas and refreshments to wherever the trail took us. The A and B riders came together for lunch at Bennett Springs, a tree· lined, frog-filled oasis in the vast Nevada wilderness. Bennett marked the half-way point of the day's 'ride, and from that point on, the "trail ride" took on a new character. The relaxed pace of the morning's ride disappeared completely. After hours of riding, judging the skills of other participants, and learning to read the ever-changing trails, the competitive spirit broke through and the ride heated up as new-found friends battled it out in the sand washes, forced each other off the ,trail in the corners and soaked each other in the river sections. Laughing like kids and mudsplattered from head-to-toe, we kept the battle going all the way back to Caliente. At the end of the 130-mile ride we looked like something out of Creature From.The Black Lagoon. There were twisted knees and bruised elbows among the riders; sprockets missing a few teeth and some bent bars and fried clutches among the bikes. And, like so many of the others, I was brown from head to foot after going over the bars in a deep silt section. But there were smiles all round smiles that continued through a

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