Baja Adventure Ride NBMC & 2WheelTimes

Combined Stories of Doug Byers and Michael Hannas
Photos by Doug Byers

Baja Day Three: San Felipe to Percebu to The Monster Sand Hill

MH: I awoke on the morning of our third day in Baja to the sound of motorcycles in the parking lot.  I sat up and peeked out the window to see Froman and Pecore warming up a couple of the machines, getting ready to take Froman’s clutch basket over to the local machine shop for a little work.  I jumped up and threw on my pants, and told my roomie DB that I would go down and see what was going on, as he was trying to get as much beauty sleep in as he could and was still laying in bed.  I went down to the parking lot and found out that our guides were going over to the shop to try to get Froman’s clutch basket and bearing somewhat operable.  Before they left, Pecore tossed me a plastic water bottle full of this gnarly-looking fresh-squeezed orange juice he had just picked up around the corner from the hotel.  It had seeds and big chunks of pulp floating around in it, but as thirsty as I was after just getting up, I didn’t care what it looked like as I took a big swig.  As the juice hit my tongue I was rewarded with the most flavorful and fresh orange juice I had ever tasted in my life; I could actually feel the energy flowing into my body!  Apparently the hombre with the cart on the corner that makes the juice uses three different types of oranges and they are all super-fresh without all the preservatives and chemicals used on fruit we can buy at supermarkets in the states.  I didn’t think orange juice could taste so good!

I ran up to the restaurant at the hotel to grab a nice hot cup of coffee, then went back to the room to stir DB up so we could go eat some breakfast, which apparently the rest of the crew had already done while we were still passed out.  DB got up and put some clothes on, and then we went down to the restaurant to grub.  The service at the place there at the hotel was excellent, and they even had some more fresh-squeezed OJ to suck down with our omelets.  DB and I filled out tummies with eggs, bacon, and tortillas, and then headed downstairs and back to our room to get our gear on and make sure the bikes were ready to rip for the day.

DB: On day three, we woke up to the sweet sound of motorcycles idling in the hotel courtyard. Today was an optional ride day for the groups. However, I don't believe I saw anyone staying behind. Froman and Pecore were on their way to a local machine shop to rectify repairs on the broken clutch parts. Froman, a veteran mechanic, used the machine shops lathes and tools to resurface the scorched bushing and clutch basket on the XR650R and returned to the hotel parking lot to reassemble the reworked parts. Meanwhile Hannas and I headed to the hotel restaurant to wolf down some omelets and the most incredible fresh squeezed OJ you have ever had.

MH: After we geared up, without our huge backpacks thankfully since we were only doing a day ride and coming back to the hotel, we went down and did a quick check-over on the bikes and made sure nothing was falling off, our oil levels were good, and our chains had enough lube on them.  At that time Pecore and Froman rode back into the hotel lot with a freshly-machined clutch basket and cleaned-up bearing, thanks to the nice guys over at the machine shop on the west side of town.  We made sure to remember where the shop was in case we needed their services again during one of the many future trips to Baja we were already planning in our heads.  Froman had the new clutch and bearing in the XR in a few minutes, the XR guys were getting pretty good at this procedure it seemed, and like a true pro he was all ready to go before the rest of the group even had all their gear on.

Although today was an optional riding day, since we would be returning to the hotel in the afternoon, I didn’t see anyone stay behind at the hotel, despite some like Froman and Steve on the XRs (clutch) as well Brad Seder (charging system) having small issues with their machines; and others like Ray, the at least over 60-year-old Baja rookie in the group, having some minor injuries acting up and giving them some grief. It was obvious nothing was going to faze the perma-grins on anyone’s face or stop any of us from riding.  Most of us grouped up together to head south from San Felipe to Laguna Percebu and then play on the beach and big sand dunes; while a few others led by Big Rich Deveau tried to find some sweet single-track back near the dry lake that Rich had been told about prior to the trip by the same guys we had seen up at the Sawmill on the first day.  Eighteen of us headed out together, stopping first again at the Pemex on the south side of San Felipe to fill up, then heading down the highway towards the mud flats again.  It was cool to have almost the whole NBMC crew all riding together, as it was the A group’s first chance of the trip to rip with the guys from the B and C groups.

DB: After our meal, the bikes were ready to rumble again, so we geared up and split into two groups; one group was going to explore some GPS coordinates we had received from the two guys near the Sawmill, by Ol' Ugly!  The second group was heading out across the mud flat, to join up with some of the San Felipe 250 race course. We were careful starting out on the whooped-out power line roads as we had observed a few ATV racers pre-running the racecourse for the event in the middle of March. We were heading towards Laguna Percebu for some mid-morning beverages and snacks. The ride there was just what you would expect in Baja: some very basic desert two-track with small whoops and moderate dust. We paired up again and knocked off the miles until we reached Highway 5 a few miles before the highway turns into dirt.

MH: We went back down the highway to the mud flats first, where we met up with a couple of the guys who had gone ahead to do one more search for Joe’s cell phone in the daylight this time.  I went right over to the area on the track where we had made contact the day before and searched around for a few minutes for the phone, but it was no where to be found.  Joe had already searched for it the night before and a few of the other guys had been searching for a few minutes already before we arrived, but no one was able to find it.  DB and I ripped a few more laps on the track, dodging the guys who were still looking for the phone and trying not to roost them, well, too hard at least.  The track was a lot different than it was the day before when it was fresh, now it was a little drier and hard-packed underneath, which seemed to give Ol’ DB a little more confidence in his hard-terrain front tire I realized as I tried to chase him down.  I think I actually liked it better the day before when it was fresh and you could really dig into it.  After a few hot laps to get warmed up for the day, we saw the rest of the group gathering at the western-edge of the mud flats and ripped over to meet up.  As we discussed the next section we would be riding, with our guides telling us to be careful because there may be some four-wheeled vehicles on the roads pre-running for the upcoming San Felipe 250, another group of dirt bikers found our moto track and started ripping some laps themselves.  It was awesome to see another group of guys enjoying the track we laid out just as much as we did.

We took off and headed southwest from the mud flats on a rocky dirt two-track until the road cut through a small ranch and turned south.  The two-track opened up into a wide sandy road with small whoops and stutter-bumps as it headed south, paralleling the power lines as it crossed small washes and open desert.  Knowing there would be some dust as we weren’t blessed by overnight rain for the first time of the trip and it was pretty dry in that area, DB and I wisely hooked on the back of our leader Pecore as we left the rest of the guys behind in a huge dust cloud.  Pecore was running on the left and DB was on the right, and the road was wide enough that I could sneak up between them and run in the middle as we were ripping at close to triple-digit speeds.  It was one of the coolest things I have ever seen, sitting there on my KX ripping almost as fast as the green beast would go, then looking over to each side and just watching the suspension work up and down on the bikes ripping right next to me.  I was so enthralled with how cool the forks and swingarms looked as they soaked up the whoops and bumps and the tires hammered up and down, I swear I just watched them for a few minutes straight, just watching ahead with my peripheral vision or watching DB and Pecore’s bodies for a sign of something ahead we needed to slow for.  After the road started getting a little bumpier and we dropped across a small wash without even checking up, I decided it might be a better idea to watch where I was going at 95 mph in the dirt.

Finally we got to an intersection where there was a road that went east towards the sea, and we stopped there to gather up.  When Pecore, DB, and I all stopped and looked back, there was a dust cloud so huge it went as far as we could see.  After a few minutes the rest of the guys started trickling in and pulling up, looking a little dusted-out.  I was happy that we had ripped up front.  While sitting and waiting we realized that the power lines that the road had been running along had also cut to the east towards the ocean a little way back from where we were, so we figured that the road to the left would probably take us to our destination of Percebu.  We all took off again down that road and headed east towards the ocean, with Pecore, DB, and I leading the pack again.  Sorry guys, but I just hate sucking dust!  This road was a little narrower and sandier with bigger whoops, so we weren’t ripping quite as fast but still at a pretty good clip.  My plan of running in the middle between DB and Pecore didn’t work quite as well on this road, as it was narrower which meant sometimes I had to back off as they squeezed me in, getting a sweet double sand-spray-sandwich, as well as hit the deepest part of the whoops.  I got sick of eating sand as I was already full from breakfast, so I started working the extreme left edge of the road, off to the left of Pecore’s back fender.  This actually worked pretty good for awhile since the whoops were smaller on the edge, but it was a bit sketchy dodging the cactus and bushes on the edge of the trail.  I had one close call, clipping a cactus with my handguard at over 70mph, and then Pecore figured out the deal and moved over into my line.  He just pinned it once he was over on the edge in the smaller whoops and left me behind in a wave of sand-spray.  I then tried to go off the road to the left in the open desert, which was cool for a little bit since it was smoother, but dodging the cactus was even tougher and Pecore and DB kept ripping away.  I jumped back onto the road and followed their dust to the highway, where we all stopped to gather again.

DB: When we came to Highway 5 we saw some other motorcycles out exploring the dirt roads too.  That's cool I thought, but "Wait a minute: those are cruisers," I said to myself.  It was three guys, two on Honda Shadows, 750 & 1100 ACE editions, and a guy on a Suzuki V-Strom with triple bags. The two guys riding the cruisers turned right and headed north up Highway 5, meanwhile the guy riding the V-Strom looked left, then right, then brought up the RPM's on the 1000cc twin to probably 8000rpm, good enough for a full moto start I'm sure, then popped the clutch launching out of the gate like RC was out of retirement or something. He then laid the bike hard right at maximum lean angle almost kissing the right side bag on the highway as he hooked the turn onto the pavement, then he over-corrected and almost high-sided it Hannas style into the other lane of traffic! He then got it back in his lane and roared off down the road, he must have been a Pro Supermoto Racer with those skills!  Wow!  After those guys were long gone, we looked in all directions then proceeded to cross the highway and followed the old dirt road East to Laguna Percebu to see what other entertainment we could find.

MH: Pecore thought he was pretty funny when we pulled up and he acted like he was lost and didn’t know which way Percebu was.  Of course, we both had already seen the huge billboard right in front of us that pointed straight ahead to Laguna Percebu.  We tried to play the same trick when Roger pulled up, and at least he went along with it and acted like he didn’t see the sign for a little bit.  We all laughed, and as we were sitting there at the edge of the highway, a group of motorcycles came rumbling down the dirt road towards us from the beach.  When they got close enough, I could see that two of the guys were on Honda cruisers with big windscreens and leather bags, while the third guy was ripping a Suzuki V-Strom with a top case and bags and full-on knobbies.  The two cruiser dudes stopped and waved at us as they turned north onto the highway, but the Strom rider was too busy to wave as he was determined to put on a display of his riding ability for us dirt bikers.  He launched his V-Strom off the dirt onto the pavement without even touching the brakes and I swear his right-side saddlebag was only a whisker off the ground as he hooked the turn with both knobby tires on their edge on the yellow paint stripe in the middle of the highway.  He just hooked the turn, almost high-sided, then popped right up and blasted down the road like Troy Herfoss or something.  Thanks for the show buddy.


 

Once the rest of the group had gathered, we all crossed the highway and headed down to the beach at Laguna Percebu.  We all parked the bikes at the bar and restaurant right on the beach, and went inside for some refreshments after sucking all that dust.  We had some Pacificos and some tasty quesadillas as we all hung out and listened to Baja stories from some of the crustiest Baja vets, while I borrowed Rob’s medical tape to try and do something to control my blistered hands.  Roger and Randy were nice enough to help me tape my hands up, since I had never attempted that before and was making quite a mess of it myself before they stepped in.  My hands were already blistered really bad and the morning’s ride did even more damage as they were raw and bloody, but the tape job helped big time and I was able to ride the rest of the day without doing too much more damage.  We finished up our beers and took a few photos, and then we fired the bikes up and got ready to rip down the beach.

DB: Once we parked our motorcycles, we strolled inside and ordered some refreshments and food. We sat and did some more bench racing, while Roger, who is a firefighter and has a little medical training, taught Hannas how to tape blistered hands, while others decided where to head to next. Laguna Percebu has a beautiful coral reef in the Sea of Cortez with lots of sea creatures to view and see. The people there were happy to see us and very nice. After snapping a few pictures and paying our tab, we decided to head north up the beach along the ocean. Yes, this is legal in Mexico, and what an exhilarating experience it is ripping up the waterline at 80 mph with locals screaming at you to pull wheelies, and then cheering loudly after you granted their request. Again, something I have only seen in Mexico. This was all fun and games until two of our riders crashed hard together trying to cross the same piece of ocean inlet at the same time. Dave C. and Steve had a hard coming together and Steve was ejected off his XR650R. We stopped to make sure everyone was OK. Thankfully, after a little time getting nice and cozy with the sand, and making sure his hip still worked, Steve was able to get up and remount his bike to continue the ride. He did have one pretty sore hip, but cowboy'ed up and never complained about it afterwards although we could tell he was hurting.

MH: We took off down the beach WFO, ripping right down next to the water since the tide was out and the wet sand was more packed and faster.  I was chasing Callagy on his XR650 as we just ripped down the beach as fast as my KX would go.  Everyone seemed like little kids as we all ripped around, blasting past each other and spraying huge sand trails behind us.  Carl came ripping by me stretching the throttle cables on his WR, with Steve chasing on his XR, looking happy to be ripping somewhere he didn’t need a clutch at all!  Callagy and I kept following the water with DB in tow as the beach curved to the right, while Carl and Steve stayed further up the shore near the top of the wet sand, all of us pinned.  As we approached the mouth of a creek, Callagy started turning left up the beach and I followed, seeing that the mouth of the creek we were about to cross at high speed was like 50 feet wide down by the water line, and looked to be more than deep enough to swallow our bikes and send us over the bars in an instant.  We cut left still on the gas, since we still need to wheelie over the creek but were aiming for a spot further up the shore that was narrower and not as deep.  As Callagy twists the throttle more and sits back to rip over the creek, I see that Steve is coming in from the left and doing the exact same thing, and aiming for the exact same spot!  The collision was inevitable as Callagy tried to turn back to the right at the last second but it was too late as he was already on a direct course to collide with Steve’s XR.  The two riders collided hard at high speed as they crossed the creek; with Steve flying off his bike and smashing into the sand like a lawn dart with water and sand spraying everywhere, and Callagy bouncing off him but somehow saving it.  I had just enough time to check up and then pin it over the creek right next to them as Steve was flying off his bike, and was lucky to not get caught up in the whole thing myself.  It was one of the craziest crashes I had ever seen happen right in front of me; at first I started laughing but once I turned around and saw Steve still laying in the sand where he had stuck at, the laughing turned to worry and I ripped over to him as the rest of the group did the same to make sure he was OK.



Luckily he was just a little shook up and his leg was pretty sore where Callagy nailed him, but all in all he was OK and got right up and back on his bike after a couple minutes of intimate bonding with the Percebu sand.  He was obviously in some pain and still had to ride with no clutch, but once he was up and riding, we never heard him complain one bit about it for the rest of the trip.

The Sea of Cortez near Laguna Percebu.

Log on tomorrow for the rest of Day Three of our Baja Adventure…