At the Sac swap I got an invite to a party in Death Valley. Except this time they say it’s not in Death Valley and we’re gonna head towards Yosemite. Good for me, not as far. My buddy Sad Dawg says he’s gonna go with, but something’s up with his shovel. Night before and I’m tuning my bike. Sad Dawg's got his entire front end all blown apart somewhere in San Francisco and running out of time. I don’t sleep much, I can’t get ahold of Sad Dawg until like 3 in the morning and he says we’re gonna van it across the valley to catch up with the group on the other side of the state. Seems like we’ve only got about half a day to catch up so I get on my pan shovel at 4 in the morning and the thing won’t start. 90 inch, terrible bike to kick. I do a sketch launch out of the shop and into the woods, no lights, in an attempt to bump start it. I get the thing to turn over and fire up. I absolutely fly over the hill into the bay, it’s real foggy at 5 am and I find Sad Dawg in a parking lot in San Jose. We load the bike and make it about halfway into the mountains before Sad Dawg falls asleep and his van's turbo quits working. He says it’s the fuel pump, I swear I can’t hear the turbo spinning. Either way the van's going 30 miles an hour in a 60. So we park the van on highway 4 and make it over the mountains on the bikes.
From 10,000 feet up in the pines way down to the desert, it’s a good day. Perfect weather. We pop out of the mountains a couple hundred miles above Mammoth and into the desert. Nothing in that part of the state. First stop we make, my buddy Dennis is by himself on his shovel filling up on gas. We had no clue he was gonna be there. We stop for a smoke. We’re excited to see him. But when we get back on the bikes, Sad Dawg's bike won’t start. Big hot sun with nothing around. We grab a 6 pack from the gas station, but the bike just won’t start. Just sort of coughs and makes a bunch of noise before it dies. Dennis thinks it’s the battery. I think it’s a pushrod. We start asking around for a battery and we find an absolute wild man in an abandoned boat yard. His name is Charlie. Looks like Charles Manson. He pulls out a 40 pound battery from a boat yard we think he’s living in. A huge fuckin battery, wouldn’t fit in my car. A couple wires from a piece of conduit on the ground. Hose clamps to connect the wires to the terminals. I’m not so sure it’s gonna work but the bike fires up first kick. The big ass battery gets tied to the back of Sad Dawg's sissy bar. We have a moment we’re not sure what Charlie wants for the battery. He asks for $15. Sad dawg gives him $20 and we set out. My bike is absolutely ripping, and we make it out to Mammoth in no time. We sit on the curb and have a drink while we wait for the party to show up. Sad Dawg's got this big heavy plastic bag on his bike for someone who blew a brake cylinder on the road but I’m not sure who. Bikes start rolling into the town for the party. 20-30 at a time. Most of us end up at the same hotel. I’m looking for a party. No issue there. An hour in I’m not sure if the brake is fixed but Sad Dawg and I are feeling good and we go hit a night ride around Mammoth. We run into a few groups, watch a knuckle catch fire. Goes out quick. We head home ready for a drink and the night goes as planned. I don’t think Sad Dawg sleeps at all, and the next day I don’t feel great. I wake up and he’s still sitting at the table with the Central Valley's finest. I get out of the hotel room as fast as I can to ride the hangover away. I sit around town for about an hour and get stuck between both groups. The bulk of the party heads out to Yosemite but the crew I’m waiting for may well still be partying at 9 am. I leave and ride about 60 miles up the desert to catch up with the bulk of the crowd.
Big wildfire blowing smoke across the highway. Bike's feeling good. I’ve got the entire highway to myself. I make it an hour up the mountain till I catch the group. Killer views of the mountains. Maybe 75 bikes making their way over the Sierras. Mountains and lakes and all sorts of pretty things. We stop at a campsite and go jump in the Tuolumne River. The group starts a big fire and gets to partying all over again. A couple days and no sleep, I don’t have it in me and I fall asleep early. The next day Sad Dawg and I crawl back up the mountains and back home.