Things Guerrero Negro and the Vizcaino desert took from us. Then gave them all back.

[FNPR]

1. My clutch cable.
It snapped just outside of town while we were looking for a spot to camp. We limped back into GN and got a room at the Cowboy Hotel. We used their excellent wifi to search for a moto shop in town. Turns out Google does not work here like it does in the states. You have to actually go out into the world and look for what you want. We got wind that there was a dirt bike repair shop, Taller de Motos Cachora, on the west side of town. We took the broken cable off of my bike, doubled up on Ax Mans and zipped out into the streets.
Motos Cachora was no longer. We found a closed shop around the corner that had a huge cutout dune buggy for a sign and some dirt bike helmets in the window that looked kind of promising. We asked the folks next door at the miniest of Marts if they knew when the shop was to open. "No se". "Shoot". Somehow we got across what it was we were looking for (our Spanish is still muy muy no bueno) and two of the guys broke out their cell phones to call their buddies. And that's when we figured out how to find parts in Mexico. You find someone who looks like they might be able to call someone that might ride dirt bikes and just might happen to have some parts lying around their house. Thirty minutes later we were doing a deal with a stout, friendly, scooter riding Mexican that happened to have an extra Honda XR450 clutch cable that looked like it just might work in the 250. Sweet.
The Cable went in with a few modifications and works great.

2. Ax Mans rear tire.
After being turned around on multiple roads by 'guardias de seguridad' security guards for the salt roads, we B lined it into the Vizcaino desert. No road, just sand and cacti and the pokiest of shrubs and something that kind of looked like a deprived, stunted palm tree and more bumpy, squirly sand. The going was fun and worrisome and rattled my teeth and then it happened. Ax got a flat. We joked about how we never get flats and what the hell is eveyone talking about "Baja, so many flats". Well......its true but only if you are bush wacking through raw untamed desert. We seemed to be right smack dab in the middle of it too. To the west was the salt roads and salt flats with mucho seguridad. To the south and the direction we wanted to go was only a lonely asphalt road with no towns. To the east was Hwy 1 and the north was good ol' Gruerrero Negro. From what we could tell Hwy 1 seemed to be about 15 kilometers away. Ax had seen a rear tire at the dune buggy shop so he decided to ride it out.
Pretty quickly we came upon a dirt road that lead twards GN. After a couple of hours of the slowest most boring riding of all time we made it back to town. The ladie at the dune buggy shop sold us the tire but definitely couldn't instal it for us. We found a room at Motel Gamez the coolest, cheapest place on the strip and started in on the 400. Changing the tire was hard and took along time and we definitely did it wrong.

3. My rear sprocket.
While oiling our chains befor we hit the road Ax noticed that my sprocket had worn way down and was missing some teeth. After almost being stranded in the desert the day before we thought we'd be more proactive and find a sprocket we could take with us just incase. First stop, dune buggy shop. There happened to be a few other guys hanging around today. We pointed at the sprocket, cell phones came out, buddies were called. One guy thought he might have one and zipped home to find it. Nope. Next stop, BFGoodrich. Nothing. No cell phones. No help. Third stop, random pawn shop with YZ out front. Cell phones out. A guy at BFGoodrich might have one. We were just there, deffinitally not. Fourth stop, the clutch cable rondezvous and off street auto mechanic. Cell phones out. Yes, a friend named Mario who races XR650s might but he won't be available till 4. Excellent. Got our room back at the Gamez. While we waited we realized that Ax's front rim was cracked.

4. Ax Mans front wheel.
Mario, one super dude, showed up at 430. Not only did he have multiple sprockets for me to choose from he also had a wheel and a couple rims for Ax. We followed Mario back to his home where he changed my sprocket. There was some discussion about aluminum vs. steel and the original 48 toother vs. a 45 for more speed on the black top but less torque for the dunes. We decided to go with the original aluminum 48 which Mario thought was slow and week and useless, so he gave it to me for free. Score. Next, we hit Marios buddies tire shop to switch out the front rubber on the 400. After pulling the wheel off they noticed the disc brake didn't line up with the new hub. " It's no problem". Nothing is a problem for Mario. So instead they spent the rest of the night relacing a new rim onto Ax's old hub. By midnight we were desert ready. Or so we though.

5. My good knee
We were up, packed and ready to get the F out of Guerrero Negro. Gas, water, tacos.....Check. Our plan was to take the dirt road we found three days earlier when Ax blew out his tube. Spirits where high. About 20 minutes in a mud puddle yanked my rear wheel out I went down hard on my right (good) knee.
I layed on the ground and cried for a minute while my bike dumped gas into the puddle. I managed to get her up and back on but she wouldn't start. A while later Ax came back watched as I struggled. She came back to life eventually but moral had been crushed. Knee was fine enough to ride so we carried on down the road. It felt good to be moving again.
​I was cruising down the straight endles dirt road when Ax appeared from behind and got me to stop. His rear tire had blown off the rim.

6. Ax Mans 2nd rear tire.
When we were installing the new tire a few days back we clearly heard and felt something pop as we were working the bead over the rim. It definitely didn't seem right but the tire was on and we aren't the kind of people to go buy a whole new tire when this one was clearly fine-ish. Well, we had broken the bead and now the tire was useless. No riding it out this time, the tire was only half on. So, I took all the bags off my bike, strapped my backpack on the fender and took off for the dune buggy shop. We were a good 30k out and it took me a bit to get back to GN but it was awesome to ride sans bags. Just as I turn onto the main strip I felt a strap hit me in the back and when I turn around my backpack was gone. Balls.

7. Camera and iPad
I had jumped on 1 about 5 kilometers back, so I shot down the road to make sure it hadn't fallen off on the asphalt. When I couldn't find it I figured it was some where on the dirt and I'd find it on the way back. I grabbed the new tire and some more tacos and headed back to Ax. The whole ride I looked for the bag. I finally came over the last hill where Ax was napping and my hart sank a bit. Nothing. I dropped the tire off and turned around to do a second check. "Maybe it had rolled into a bush or launched into a ditch". Nothing.
Ax got his tire on with much more ease after watching Marios buddie the tire guy who sometimes used gas and a lighter but Ax said this time he only used soap. Tire on, we decided to ride back twards GN to do one last scan for the bag. Right before had I gotten on to 1 I took a different road. I could tell now because there was only one track down it. Almost immediately I saw it. Sweet, sweet glory!! In my excitement I jumped off the bike like an idiot, caught the bars and the bike landed on my good knee once again. Double balls.
With my bag on, our bikes working pretty good and my knee still attached to my leg. We hauled ass back into the vizcaino for the last time.

[Grant Johnson]

GREAT story, loved it! Dying to see some photos!