The Sweet Ride: THE RIDES

The Owyhees
So, for years I have been listening to the Walkers talk about how much they love early Spring rides in the Owyhee mountains near Murphy/ Marsing/ Melba, Idaho. Circumstance, and the powers of the Dark Side have kept me from experiencing this illusive place--until this year.

Background:
If your were going to guess the etymology of "Owyhee" you would think it was Native American for something, wouldn't you?

But that would not be correct. It is famous for it's mining connections and history, and features Silver and Ruby City Ghost town. (A must see) But not an Indian word. Huh?

The name "Owyhee" actually comes from a much more temperate climate. When good old Captain Cook was bouncing around the South Pacific in the late 1700's, his crew anglicized the word "Hawaii" to "Owyhee". 50 years later, 3 "Owyheeians" were in Idaho working for a trapping company. (Evidently they hadn't heard about "winter") They head up what is now the Owyhee River in the winter of 1819-20, and are never heard from again! The place get's called "Owyhees" after that, and it sticks. No wonder every time I ride there I am in the mood for some Kalua Pork.

Yeah, that's a true story!

The Place:

Absolutely something for everyone. From the 1st time beginner to a KTM all star, there is something for everyone. MILES and MILES of trails, climbs, or dinking around on Hemingway Butte. (Not sure why it is called thus.)

Cat and Callen "High Marking"

The Riders:

The Conklin Bunch came en mass.

DIRT BAG DAWSON CALLEN THE KID

AWESOME AFTON

CASH MONEY CAT and PEPPY PAYTON

3 cheers for Dad's that take kids riding, but don't actually get to do much riding because they are taking their kids riding. Atta boy Scott.

We were even able to drag old Klondike Mike out of retirement!
(He didn't mind too much)

Just say, "Moto Campout" and you can count on

Moto-Head Mason and Gunner Jaillett!

And let's not forget "The Colonel"

He's always up for Camp Moto as well.

At this point it may be important to remind you that the Walkers love coming here for Spring Break.

We went in late February.

The Colonel, as usual, was kind enough to invite us to stay in his mobile accommodations: The Coleman Tent Trailer: Utah model. Not sure why it is called "The Utah" but it does sleep 8 very comfortably.

Ahem.

Now, we have made a point of repeatedly mentioning that this was at the end of February, and despite it being unseasonably and unreasonably delightful, it was still only the 2nd month of the year. Friday afternoon was great--needed a coat, but the terrra firma terrain was terrific.

Gunner J's most recent swap success. "Quadzilla"
The thing ought to have wings.

After dinner and sunset our campfire got cut short as the wind began to blow and temperatures started to drop. The Colonel barely had time to tell a few stories; something about the Marsing Monster.

It was Kid Callen, Cash Money Cat and myself joining The Colonel. The wind was ripping and rocking "The Utah". Then the rain started. As loud as the weather was, everyone else was pretty quiet. Right up until my 2nd favorite quote of the trip. Out of the darkness from the south end of the of "The Utah" The Colonel barks in a loud and rather sarcastic voice, "Let's go camping in Murphy, in February!" (This was a mocking remark about my idea to, well, go camping . . . in Murphy . . . uh . . . in February.)

Up to this point the wind had been blowing, but then it decided to really Huff and Puff and blow our Utah down. This, with previous seeds of "The Marsing Monster" starting to germinate and grow in young minded soil, lead to favorite quote #1, compliments of Kid Callen.

Poor guy had a big bed all to himself, which he is very much not accustom to. The wind and rain were beating down, the Marsing Monster was on the loose, The Colonel was sarcasting, and RastaRobby was snoring. He woke me up and said he needed to call his dad which was no problem. Then I hear him say, "Dad, I'm on a bed all by myself!" Scott, always unruffled and soothing, explained that he was not driving out to the Owyhee Islands again, and to cope. He then explained to me that he may need a cuddly spot betwixt Cat and I. The necessary adjustments were made, and we were back to all smiles and snores.

Of coarse, there is a history of family freakouts there.

The Cruddy night passed, The Colonel served up some of his finest, and we fired up the bikes. The rain left it's mark, and we fought mud and snow the rest of the day.