Babes in the Dirt: Gone With the Wind - Conclusion

Once the other babes returned, we took a break and then set off on a quest for more uncharted territory.  As we puttered down the main drag, we reached the end of the park and another road that intersected. As an aspiring adventure rider, I am quite keen on exploring roads I've never been down before.  As we idled at the intersection I looked back and over at the other babes.  "How do you guys feel about seeing where this road leads?"  Everyone was up for it and we set off to see where this new journey would take us.  The further along we went, the dirtier the road became; gradually degrading into a narrow patchwork path of asphalt and potholes that seductively wound its way up the mountain. It wasn't the best road for a sportbike, but that wasn't even the slightest bit of a problem since none of us were on our sportbikes today.  

As we rounded a few turns a few miles in, broken down van emerged into view.  It wasn't exactly a white creeper van with free candy written on it, but it was sitting on a couple of flat tires and had a piece of paper propped up in the window with illegible writing on it.  It was the perfect scene for a murderous booby-trap, but still we slowed down enough to take a gander as we rode by. Most of the road was washed out in that corner and it appeared almost as though some debris had disabled the vehicle... 3 years ago.  

Shortly thereafter I rounded a corner that carried us up a semi steep ascent.  To my right, a mountainside, to my left, the valley had all but disappeared into the horizon. 

So, we did what anyone would do in the middle of nowhere with some potential creepers lurking in the wilderness: we struck some poses:

And then we rode some more, and then stopped for a few more photo opps:

 Then we rode some more; until the road could be rode no more... as in, "road's closed."  It took us a little bit of time to reach the end of the journey, and when we did it was just like any other mountain road: no real warning, just a closed gate.  The end of this road was near a small stream and we figured that while we were in the neighborhood, we might as well park the bikes and do some exploring.  So we did.  As we pulled off into what looked like the entrance to a campsite, it quickly became obvious that this was likely to be a permanent campout for whomever resided in a tattered looking motorhome painted like the American flag. Unaffected by the potential set up for a murderous encounter, we propped the bikes up and ventured through some fine California foliage to take a gander at the stream. It wasn't until 3 of us made our way through said foliage that Babe #2 pointed out: "You guys, I'm not going down there... there is poison oak all over the place and I'm not walking through that."   The three of us looked back to take a closer observation. Indeed, it appeared that we had successfully made our way through various PO bushes without consequence. All I will say on that subject is that ATGATT has it's merits, and being covered from head to toe in multiple layers was certainly fitting for the occasion; otherwise, we might have all been in for a pretty uncomfortable ride back.

But we made it back.  And as we rolled back into town we headed down another trail that was simply so appropriately named, that we couldn't really help but leave our tracks on it. 

Cougar Trail... ;)

I must confess that I may or may not have been the catalyst for an unfortunate dropping of a dual sport.  It may or may not have been due to my inability to carry enough speed through sand and my unfortunate position in the path of one of the other babes who was moving along at a much quicker pace. Still, at least nobody was hurt, even if I felt pretty bad for being in her way.  We regrouped and tooled around for a bit before heading back to the campground where the mini-bike races were set to begin shortly.  As we pulled up to our camp, the first few practice laps were unfolding and we made it just in time to crack some frosty beers and prop our asses into some chairs and onto the tailgate from our little campsite we had front row seats to the action.  As I watched the practice laps I kinda wished I would have made it a point to get back in time to join the races, and I made a note that I would do so next year. 

Girls on bikes that came in all shapes and sizes, slidin' boots around the mini-oval.  Judging by the chorus of laughter resonating from inside their helmets, I would say that everyone was having a blast.  It was the most fitting end to the day and a most exemplary example of what happens when you bring motorcycles and good people together... She-nanigans.