How I Got an “A” in Desert Camping
February 5, 2008 by Jozee · 2 Comments
If you're new here, you may want to subscribe to our E-mail Digest. We will then send you the stories that are posted each day in an e-mail digest. We use a service called Feedburner for delivery of these emails. You will receive an e-mail from Feedburner after you subscribe and you must click on that email to activate your subscription. Thanks for visiting and enjoy all the information!
RV.Net Blog Admin
Photobucket
“In my day” my crusty Hoolie friends tell me, “hard core dirt bike riders, and I mean ‘old school’ hard core…used to camp out in the southwestern deserts every weekend from October to May with nothing more than a used paint tarp for a sleeping bag and a 9MM to ward off the scorpions and the coyote”.
Their dirt bikes, they tell me, were loaded on the back of beat up ole work trucks or towed behind borrowed family cars on home made trailers. They, rebellious teenage boys and die hard daredevils mostly, would stay for days and days at a time in their dust and sand desert “spots” with no thoughts of the comforts of home at all…..just for the joy of free style riding. They lived on nothing but adrenaline, beer, beef jerky, cigs, and fuel. Fresh water and real food were for the weak. Toilets were for the dainty. Showers were….well, they just weren’t an option. Sometimes they ate cactus for breakfast. Needles and all.
Want to Ride? Let’s Go!!!!
December 26, 2007 by Jozee · 10 Comments
There I was, sitting on my little quad, and looking up at the hill in front of me like a death sentence. It was straight up, about 50 feet, and lots of soft gravel. I mean STRAIGHT UP!! I told myself “don’t even try to take this…you are in over your head. They will get more angry at having to call Life Flight to carry me out of here, than at having to turn around and retrace the seven miles back to camp if I refuse. I am just gonna refuse. Yup. I’m not going!”
Photobucket
One by one, I saw the dirt bikes, the Rhino’s, and eventually, the quads, climb the “death hill”. They would stop and watch for the next rider to make the climb. Each one got a big cheer as they topped the summit, and then looked back to watch the next one try. I was the last quad, and I just wanted “out”, but we were too far into the ride to turn around.
“How did I get myself into this?”
As I stared at the loose gravel, the “death hill”, and the group of grinning friends at the top, I remembered….
