SARGENT BIKER The Rule of One by James Carlisle

The Rule of One

By James Carlisle #196730

The story you are about to read is true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent. The events are retold to provide lessons we may all use to become more professional riders ourselves.

ON A LONG WEEKEND, I HEADED DOWN TO BIG BEND RANCH

State Park for some moto-camping and to help support The Big Bend 50, a 50-mile ultramarathon. While there, I broke Rule #1, the Rule of One. Luckily, the consequences were not grave, but I figured I would share the story since I survived it.

“The Rule of One” states that you don’t ride alone whenever you are off-roading on a motorcycle. Instead, you are required to ride in a group of two or more, where each rider is responsible for keeping track of one of the others. As soldiers, we called it the buddy system, and it’s good insurance on any ride.

My task was to ride 10 miles up to the ranger station on an improved surface road. Once there, I picked up the faxed lists of runner names and numbers. Then I was supposed to travel about eight miles over a double-track path, drop off one copy and then ride eight more miles by single-track to drop a copy at the campsite. Finally, I was to travel yet another eight miles down a steep incline along a riverbed to drop off the last fax. It was all going so well until I reached that riverbed.

It had not rained in a long time at Big Bend Ranch State Park, and the riverbed was primarily made up of deep, loose sand with rocks strewn about for good measure. I soon fell off the bike. While I didn’t suffer any injuries, I immediately realized how much more difficult it is to pick up a big, heavy adventure bike in deep sand with no traction for my feet. It seemed all that practice picking up the bike in my backyard was apparently for nothing. Oh, and I forgot to mention that my bike’s nine-gallon fuel tank was full, adding 60 pounds above the center of gravity of the bike. Wouldn’t it have been nice to have been riding with someone who could help me lift the bike?

Eventually, I succeeded in lifting the bike and getting underway again. My second fall took just as much work, and though it was only 36 degrees outside, I was working up a serious sweat. After my third fall, regardless of how much I tried, I could not get the bike upright. Eventually, a couple of rangers came along and helped me lift the bike. With only a mile left to my final destination, I gave the last fax to the rangers and asked them to deliver it to the checkpoint knowing that if I fell again, I would be stuck out there for hours. Of course, that was assuming that I wouldn’t sustain any injuries in any more falls.

I finally made it back to my campsite without further incident. What an adventure it was. Needless to say, I learned my lesson. Never break rule #1. I hope that by sharing this story, you will not have to learn it the hard way, too.

Adventures suck when you are having them. Ride safe. See you out there.