I get an e-mail from Pinhead asking when we’re going riding. I end up replying with several dates. Finally we decide on one. Pinhead starts talking to Conehead and the date changes. Meanwhile, I talk to The Rookie and we change the date. I finally talk to Conehead and we determine that we’re planning on two different dates; of course no one knows how we got into this position. After a barrage of e-mails we finally end up on “the same page.” Once we’re settled on a date, Pinhead invites someone else and the process starts all over.

After picking the date, we need to figure out where we’re going. Pinhead wants someplace with “killer” hill climbs and single track trails with 5000– to 10,000–foot free–falls off to the side (ever been on a trail so narrow that there’s no dirt to dab on either side and a 2000–foot drop on both sides? I have with Pinhead , and he loved it). He also wants someplace that you can ride from sunup to sunset and not pass the same rock twice. Conehead usually wants open roads with 100+ mph cruising speeds, good scenery, and lots of opportunity to explore. I like variety and I hate hill climbs. Actually I don’t mind the climb – it’s the coming back down that I despise. I hate big drop-offs, I’m terrified of heights, and I hate 100+ mph in the dirt. What do I like? I like tight, twisty, single track woods riding, not too steep of course. What do I love? High-speed deep twisty sand washes. Then there’s The Rookie. He couldn’t care less where we go as long as we shut up and get there. The whole decision process (or lack thereof) seems to annoy him. He pretty much says, “just call me when you guys decide!”

For our latest trip we had decided on Panamint Valley. This was easy; we go every year and it was about the right time of year. However, only weeks before, we began to get reports of flooding and washed-out impassable roads. This, combined with general land closures, would have limited the riding and the fun factor considerably. So once again we were faced with, “so were we goin’?” Conehead and I got together over the remnants of a pony keg and decided to go to Laughlin, Nevada. We thought it’d be cool to try to find our way to Las Vegas and spend the night there (we all have dual-sport bikes). About the time we started to get stoked, Pinhead showed up. First, Pinhead has no interest in Vegas. Second, he was not convinced that the riding would be challenging. Third, he couldn’t believe that Nevada is big enough to provide enough riding to keep it interesting. He also had mentioned that Jim and Scott were coming and neither of them had dual-sport bikes. Being convinced that there wasn’t enough riding to be had, he began to pitch going to Saline Valley. Of course Conehead and I didn’t like that idea because we felt that there wasn’t enough good riding there.

I called The Rookie, who’s response was “I don’t care, let me know what you decide – CLICK” After poring over maps, eating two pizzas, and emptying what was left of the keg, we had decided on Jawbone Canyon. This was assuming it was all right with Jim and Scott. But that’s not the end. At the last minute Jim and Scott backed out and it was time to start over. We eventually decided on Rasor Valley. Of course, we needed to decide where we were going to ride. That’s when it got real nasty. As I said before, getting there is at least half the fun…