Did the usual annual Sierra passes ride on June 19, 2025. Been doing this for about 15 years now, see from 2024 … to … 2011
Akshay was on his BMW R1250GS. Anil rode his S1000XR. Nishant came along on his Triumph Street Triple R. He’s the new guy from my office. Ayon brought his Thruxton R. I was on the MT09.
We went much slower than usual this time. Mahesh had a bad accident on this same ride last year and that was on everyone’s mind. So we kept things mellow. No rush. Just cruised and took in the views.
The weather was perfect. Not too hot, not too cold.
Nothing much to report. No drama. Just a calm, smooth ride through the Sierra passes with good friends and great roads. Sometimes that’s all you need.
The plan for Morocco came about in many different ways. My friend Gokul had moved back to India (temporarily, without his family) and was using that time to travel to exotic places in Southeast Asia and Africa. Along those lines, some of us thought it would be a good opportunity to rent motorcycles and ride in Morocco. Morocco appears quite often as a motorcycle travel destination on forums like ADVRider. Anyway, between the various conversations on WhatsApp, one thing led to the next, and soon three of us had bought tickets and committed to travel to Morocco in the spring of 2025. It was going to be Gokul from India, Shobhit from Seattle, and me traveling from the Bay Area. We had to overcome several scheduling obstacles, such as kids’ spring breaks and other school schedules. This year the holy month of Ramadan ran from February 28 to March 29, and because Morocco is predominantly a Muslim country, it felt like it would be best to visit after the holy month was over.
The overland travel authority on Morocco is Chris Scott, whose book we used extensively for trip planning, navigating, and getting a sense of the route. Chris has also helped develop the Trans-Morocco Trail, which is a 2300km-long, mostly off-road route across the country, similar to a BDR or the TAT.
Day 0
Morocco is relatively easy to get to. There are direct flights to Marrakech from all major airports in Europe. I think I counted maybe 25 flights in a day from Europe. I decided to use KLM, which was the cheapest airline, and fly through Amsterdam. I met up with Gokul at the Amsterdam airport, but since I had about eight hours to spare there, I decided to make a little trip out of it and go into the city for a beer.
I took an Uber into Amsterdam, wandered around the touristy places like the canals, the Magna Plaza, and the Royal Palace. I stopped by a corner restaurant and had a relaxing beer.
A couple of hours later, we landed in Marrakesh, where our hotel sent a Land Cruiser Prado taxi to pick us up and get us into town. Our hotel for the first night was called Riad Africa, which is a short walk from the main entrance to the Medina. It was a nice, cozy little place with about seven or eight rooms. After we checked in, we wandered around the Medina for a little bit, looking for a place for dinner. We had dinner at a restaurant called Dar-E-Salam, a fancy and ornately decorated place which was used as a shooting location for the Alfred Hitchcock film “The Man Who Knew Too Much” (1956). Dinner was a traditional Moroccan tagine, the first of many that we would eat on this trip.
Day 1
The next day, we had an early breakfast of small breads, jams and cheese. However Gokul was not able to find his passport. He was searching for a good 20 minutes and was starting to get distraught. Luckily we found it deep inside a side pocket of one of his bags and the crisis was averted.
We picked up our bikes from “Bikes 2 Rent” in Marrakesh. Apparently, it was the oldest and most widely used motorcycle rental place. Shobhit got a KTM 390 and I got a Royal Enfield Himalayan 450. Gokul rented a CF Moto 450MT from a different rental company, Tenere Riders.
We showed up expecting our bikes to be ready, but they were far from that. The KTM got an oil change, and the Enfield got a new rear tire while we waited. The mechanic overfilled the oil in the KTM, and it leaked through the breather for the next one to two days. The KTM also had a faulty side-stand switch and wouldn’t start even with the kickstand up. So the mechanic took a huge wrench to the kickstand bracket and bent it just enough to engage the switch.
The bikes had no gas in them—zero—so we rode to the nearest gas station to fuel up. We were finally on our way, but at the next roundabout, I lowsided the Enfield. I must have given it too much gas on the greasy new rear tire, and the bike slid out from under me. Thankfully, I managed to jump off the bike. My knee scraped the ground, but my gear did its job. The bike’s crash guards prevented any serious damage, so we continued on our way. It was definitely a rookie mistake—too much throttle while leaned over on brand-new tires. Anyway, not much harm done, but I rode the rest of the day a lot more carefully.
On our way to Ouarzazate, our first stop was at the top of the Tizi N’Tichka pass. This is a picturesque mountain pass through the highest mountains, summiting at approximately 7,300 feet. The twisties were fabulous, but the traffic was a little haphazard and dangerous. In several places along the route, there are three lanes, two of them traveling in one direction and the third one in the opposite direction. The center lane is designated for one direction of traffic flow, but that is merely a suggestion and pretty much everyone will get into the center lane and use it to pass other vehicles either going up or down the mountain. We were careful passing other vehicles and quickly got used to a random truck or SUV crossing over illegally into our lane.
We descended down the pass into the town of Agouim where we had lunch. Lunch was very basic: a few pieces of chicken and an omelette. Shobhit had got some chaat masala with him and he would season his food during most meals.
From there, we started along the off-road route mentioned in Chris’ book (Sections J6 and J4) from Agouim through the “three-mast pass” towards Amassine and eventually Anezal. Initially it started off as a wide two-track dirt track comfortable for big bikes, but as we went deeper into the countryside, the road narrowed down to a nice single track, used regularly by local travelers on their motorcycles. We stopped at the famous heart-shaped watering trough and Gokul pulled out his drone. He captured some great video, even though the winds were gusting quite severely. We saw a few nomadic shepherds along the way. There was no traffic there at all, maybe one to two local bikers (on 100cc air-cooled bikes with normal tires) passed us on this 100+ km stretch. It was amazingly peaceful to ride through the desolate wilderness of Morocco, and the weather was perfect—clear skies and not very hot, not too cold.
From Anezal, the road to the highway was paved and a relatively straight shot. We stopped by briefly at this American-styled gas station (not a real functioning gas station, just a movie prop) that was used in the 2007 horror movie “The Hills Have Eyes, 2”.
We got back to the main highway near Tizgzaouine and made our way down to Ouarzazate for the night. Towards the end of the day, Shobhit’s bike cut out while he was riding. He had to pull over to the side, and we were with him. Luckily, he cycled the ignition, and the bike started back up. However the check engine light came on, and remained on for the rest of the trip.
We stayed at a really nice hotel, “Riad Chay & Boutique : Hotel et Restaurant,” where the formal dinner for the night was a nice spread including tajine. The hotel was nicely decorated with plaques of movies shot nearby in Ouarzazate, including Hidalgo, Spectre, The Mummy, Gladiator, and Babel. Hotels in Morocco typically have breakfast included in the reservation, while dinner is extra. We typically opted to eat dinner at the hotel because it was much more convenient after a long day of riding.
Day 2
Breakfast was a berber omelet, a good assortment of breads, and some nice jams, jellies, butter, etc. As we were loading up the bikes, we chatted with a couple from Austria. They were traveling through Morocco in an SUV. The topic of KTM came up and we discussed what a shame it was for KTM to go bankrupt.
On Day 2 we visited three of the most famous gorges in Morocco. First up was the Gorges d’amejgag. We took the highway N10 out of Ouarzazate to the town of Kalaat M’Gouna. This was a long, straight road with very little traffic. It got a bit boring to hold the bike steady at 120kmph, but we made it without any incident. The track changed to dirt after a few km and we crossed a dry river bed as we approached the gorge. The gorge itself was beautiful, with the morning sun hitting it at an angle and brightening the sky. We stopped for pictures and Gokul took out his drone again. He got a few good videos as we rode deeper into the gorge. As we were stopped, we came across a group of British dual-sport riders who had trucked in their bikes from Manchester. This was a common theme—we met many groups of bikers from around the world on this trip.
From Amejgag we rode towards Dadès Gorges. We randomly stopped on the side of the road for a mid-morning shot of whisky.
Amejgag to Dades is not very far; we rode across a two-track dirt highway through Bou Tharar. Not very interesting, but it got us to the Dadès for lunch at a roadside restaurant called Ourti Hotel Restaurant.
The timezone in Morocco is such that lunchtime is convenient to talk to folks both in the U.S. and in India. I would call Shruti around lunchtime when it would be 7 a.m. in the morning, and I would speak to my parents at the same time, about 7:30 p.m. in India. Most places have WiFi so calling on WhatsApp was easy; I also would just use my data plan as and when needed.
We then took the road up into Dadès Gorges. This is a pretty commercial area, with lots of shops, restaurants, and hotels nearby. The twisty climb up to the iconic viewpoint is nice. And the view from the restaurant up top (Hotel Timzzillite) is phenomenal. We stopped there and took a bunch of pictures. As we were leaving, a bunch of overlanders arrived there in their “rigs.” Maybe a dozen or so Land Rover Defenders, Land Cruisers, and maybe a Ford truck. We chatted with them; they were from England and the guy mentioned his Land Cruiser has traveled over half a million kilometers all over Europe and Africa, without any problems. This reminded me of the typical saying: Toyota owners boast about how many miles they have traveled, while Ferrari owners boast about how few miles they have driven.
The rest of Dadès was frankly, boring. The scenic part is very short and we took a few pics. The riding is mostly through a commercial area, until you get a bit far out, and that’s when the roads open up. As we climbed up the mountain switchbacks, we came across a few European cyclists who were riding in the area. It is not uncommon to see a roadside vendor holding a tray selling some small knick-knacks on a random switchback in Dadès.
We turned off the main road onto a semi-dirt road towards Todra Gorge. This section of road was under construction. The main road was being built parallel to a river bed and was mostly paved. We wanted to ride on the “old dirt road” which ran through the river bed, so we dropped down an incline towards the sandy river bed. It was fun to ride through the sand for a few kms, but climbing out of the river bed back onto the main road was a little tricky. I found a spot near a bridge where it would work and I was able to make it through. However, Shobhit’s bike got stuck and he needed a little push. Surprisingly, out of nowhere a nomadic shepherd came by and helped us push the bike up a steep incline. As we got to the paved road, we thanked him (“Shukran”) and gave him 40 dirhams ($4) for his help. However, he was persistent in trying to tell us something, and eventually he gestured at his mouth, indicating he was hungry. Shobhit gave him a box of cookies he had picked up in Agouim. The shepherd asked for another, and we gladly obliged.
From there we hit Todra Gorge, and I would say this was the most picturesque of the three gorges of the day. Not quite at the level of the Grand Canyon, but it reminded me a lot of Zion in Utah. The gorge is also a decent distance lengthwise so it makes for good riding. We thoroughly enjoyed the ride through the gorge and arrived at our hotel for the night, Riad Marzouk and Restaurant.
This was a basic place to stay, but the hosts were very warm and friendly. We chatted with the owner of the hotel over dinner. He was a nomadic Berber by descent and had traveled to most countries in Europe and Northern Africa. A dram of single malt was all it took; he was soon laughing along with the rest of us. We discussed Moroccan history and culture, the Berber way of life, and he kept coming back through the night for more pegs of whisky. The hotel was his family business, originally started by his father. His son was at the University in Lyon, France, while his nephew’s wife was the cook at the restaurant. Alcohol is not easily available in Morocco, so we asked the nephew to go to the town of Tinghir and bring us some beer. We had some local Moroccan beer—Flag Spéciale Originale—which was nice and relaxing after a day of riding.
Day 3
We were up early the next morning and had a simple breakfast at the hotel before heading out. The day started with an off-road track that led us back to the highway. This was the Z7 route mentioned in Chris’s book. According to him, it’s supposed to be an easy ride… but we found it pretty challenging. It was easily on par with Lippincott Road in DV or Mt. Patterson, some of the tougher trails I’ve ridden in California.
The track was rough, narrow in places, very rocky, with a steep drop-off on one side. I dropped the bike once. Goku flew the drone for a bit and got some great footage of the terrain. The off-road section went on for quite a while, cutting through a few sandy riverbeds along the way. At one point, Goku met a group of kids and handed out some candy.
Once we hit the highway, it was a long, straight stretch all the way to the Sahara. We passed through Zagora, where we stopped to refuel and grab some ice cream. The fuel station was literally a “cart” with two medium-sized tanks of gas. Right around there my stomach started acting up. I really needed to use a restroom, but there weren’t any around. Eventually, a gas station shopkeeper let me use a traditional clay toilet at the back of his store. It was small, I had to duck to get in, and there was no flush, just a plastic bucket to pour water down manually. It reminded me of the kind of toilets you find in rural parts of India, like the ones we used when visiting a rural temple in Maharashtra.
Zagora is known as the gateway to the Sahara, and from there we started seeing more and more sand dunes. We eventually reached the town of Tagounite, where we met the driver from our desert camp. From there, it was a short 20-minute ride over a dirt road to the camp (“Mhamid Sahara Camp, Le Chant Du Sable”). The sand got tricky in a few places, but we made it without much trouble.
The camp was beautiful… tucked right at the edge of some massive dunes. I took the single room while Gokul and Shobhit shared a double. The rooms were traditional Berber huts made from natural materials, probably mud and straw, though I’d need to look that up. The accommodations were basic, but the setting more than made up for it.
As soon as we got settled, we took the bikes out to ride on the dunes. Shobhit went first and did well, managing to cross a few dunes with ease. I followed, but it was tough… I got stuck a couple of times but eventually made it through. Gokul’s bike didn’t fare as well. It kept stalling on the climbs, probably a mix of low torque, bad tires, and traction control issues. I tried his bike too and found it nearly impossible to get it over the dunes.
At one point, while helping Shobhit get unstuck from some deep sand, I lifted the rear of his bike. As I set it back down, we heard a strange clank. On closer inspection, we realized the KTM had lost the bolt that connects the rear shock to the swingarm. The shock was just floating loose and knocking against the curved part of the swingarm under the fender. It was a bit of a shock (pun intended). Shobhit stopped riding after that. He later looked through some photos and figured the bolt had probably come loose earlier in the day, maybe even while we were still in the mountains. He’d essentially ridden all those high-speed roads with a dangling rear shock. Thankfully, nothing worse came of it, and we planned to fix it the next day.
Despite the mechanical scare, we had a great time riding around, taking pictures, and just soaking in the surreal landscape. Shobhit and Gokul also tried sand boarding. As the sun began to set, everything turned golden. There was a peaceful stillness in the air. I found a spot on one of the dunes and sat for a while, a nice quiet moment of reflection and calm. I can still remember that moment; I’m writing this almost three months later.
Dinner at the camp that night was fantastic. Another classic Berber meal, but this time with a flavorful soup and rice alongside the tagine. After dinner, we moved to the outdoor deck, where the staff brought out drums and began singing traditional Berber songs. We joined in with some Bollywood numbers too.
Bollywood is huge in Morocco. Everyone knows Shah Rukh Khan and Amitabh Bachchan. Mention India at a gas station and someone will respond with “Salman Khan?” An older man even mentioned Dilip Kumar.
That night, the sky was crystal clear. I set up my camera and took a few long-exposure shots of the stars… millions of them scattered across the sky. It was one of those rare nights that stays with you. Lovely.
Day 4
Today was a straight ride from the Mhamid Sahara Camp, Le Chant Du Sable back to Marrakech. We first stopped in Tagounite where a mechanic put in a bolt to hold the shock on the KTM. There were lots of mechanics in the area, because there are lots of overlanders, running those Land Rovers. We got a much higher-quality Land Rover bolt instead of the KTM Bajaj bolt.
We stopped in Zagora along the way, where Goku picked up a couple of rugs. Ironically, he packed them into his checked luggage for the flight from Marrakech to India, but the airline lost the bag. Not sure if he ever got them back.
We had lunch in Ouarzazate, at the top-rated restaurant on Tripadvisor, “The Full Sun.” The food was good, very Westernized, but expensive by Moroccan standards.
We rode through the same twisty roads in the Atlas Mountains again. The Enfield did very well on the tarmac, given that it is mainly a street-oriented, heavy standard. At one point, a truck was trying to overtake another one, both of them going uphill. So both lanes of the two-lane highway were blocked, and Goku and I had to squeeze through on the narrow shoulder. Terrible road manners. I flipped the guy off.
We made it back to Marrakech in time to return the bikes that same day. Then we took a taxi to our hotel, Riad Dar Fanny: a beautiful little riad in the center of the Medina with just seven or eight rooms. Goku did a great job of picking hotels, indeed.
For dinner, Goku found what might be the fanciest restaurant in all of Marrakech: Comptoir Darna. It’s outside the Medina and felt like a completely different world. The crowd was young, stylish, and modern… men in suits, women in dresses, the full party vibe. The drinks and dinner were excellent, and there was live entertainment too. A few belly dancers came around, and one of them even pulled me in to dance with her. We gave them generous tips.
After dinner and a couple of drinks, we decided to find another bar nearby. We ended up at the rooftop bar of the Nobu Hotel. It was a swanky spot with a great view. We had a few more drinks and hung out for a bit.
I started chatting with two guys there: one was from Pakistan, whose family ran a hospital in Karachi, and his cousin was from Manchester, where he ran a high-end used car dealership. Good guys, and we had a long, interesting conversation. The Pakistani dude started getting into politics at one point, talking about Modi and India–Pakistan relations. I told him I was just here on vacation, and we wrapped things up on a friendly note.
We took a taxi back to the hotel. The driver was a woman, which is pretty uncommon in Morocco, and she was driving like she was in a Fast & Furious or 007 movie: speeding through the tight, narrow lanes like a pro. Got us back to the hotel in no time.
Day 5
This was the last day of the trip. We slept in and had a slow, relaxed morning. After breakfast, we headed out into the “souk,” a short walk from the hotel, the main market area in the Medina. It reminded me of shopping in Pune: narrow alleys, packed stalls, and the kind of bustling chaos you find in places like Tulsibag or Hong Kong Lane.
There was a lot of good stuff to browse through and plenty of haggling. I picked up a couple of t-shirts for Valmik, a pair of linen pants for Anushka, and a scarf for Shruti.
Back at the hotel, I had been admiring some of the artwork displayed in the lobby and common areas. A few pieces really stood out, so I asked the owner about the artist. She pointed me to a nearby gallery that featured her work. The artist’s name was Marie Bastide, a French illustrator known for her clean, minimalist travel prints of cities around the world. I picked up two of her pieces, and they’re now framed and hanging in our living room.
Later that afternoon, we headed to the airport. We had dinner there and boarded our flight to Amsterdam. As we flew over Paris, I glanced out the window and caught a clear view of the Eiffel Tower, so I took a picture.
Our layover in Amsterdam was overnight, so I booked a hotel room at the airport. This was YOTELAIR Amsterdam Schiphol, right on the terminal. The room was about the size of a train compartment: just a bed, a sink, a shower, and a toilet. The front desk gave me some cup noodles, which became dinner. I ate, slept, and caught the final flight back to San Francisco the next morning. That leg of the trip was uneventful, and just like that, I was home.
Overall this was an excellent trip. I feel I missed having Mahesh on this trip, like he was in Ecuador—he brings in a sense of calming randomness to my ambitious goal-oriented riding.
I am incredibly fortunate to have owned so many bikes over the years. Each one has deepened my appreciation for motorcycling as a passion, sport, and hobby, teaching me something new about riding, and what I truly value in a motorcycle.
2005 Suzuki DR650SE – A fantastic first dual-sport that never let me down. Simple, rugged, and capable of tackling just about anything, it was a true go-anywhere machine. I’d buy one again in a heartbeat.
2002 Suzuki SV650 – The perfect beginner-friendly street bike that never outgrows its rider. Smooth power, lightweight handling, and a reliable V-twin make it a bike I’d happily own again.
2003 Kawasaki ZZR1200 – My first big-power machine with an absolutely incredible engine and slick transmission. However, constant carburetor issues turned it into more of a hassle than I wanted to deal with. Wouldn’t buy again.
2013 Kawasaki Ninja 1000 – A do-it-all sport tourer that, for some reason, never clicked with me. The smooth, powerful engine was great, but the styling felt bland, and the ride just didn’t excite me. Wouldn’t buy again.
2004 Kawasaki ZRX1200R – The ultimate retro hooligan machine, full of attitude and raw power. As much as I loved it, the carbs and age make me hesitant to own another. Wouldn’t buy again.
2011 Suzuki GSX1300R Hayabusa – Hands down the best road bike I’ve ever ridden. Effortless power, relaxed at any speed, and a near-perfect sport tourer. If given the chance, I’d definitely own another.
2015 KTM 1290 Super Duke R – A monster of a machine with brutal power and an aggressive stance. It was thrilling, but handling felt off, and reliability issues made it a headache. Wouldn’t buy again.
2008 KTM 990 Adventure S – The most capable adventure bike I’ve ever had, but also the most frustrating. It could go anywhere, but it also broke down frequently, leaving me stranded too many times. No more KTMs for me.
2007 Ducati SportClassic 1000S – A rolling piece of art that made me feel like a million bucks. It rode beautifully and sounded amazing, but it belonged in a museum rather than on the road. I’d consider a GT1000 instead.
2001 Kawasaki W650 – One of the best modern retros ever built, capturing the true essence of a classic bike with modern reliability. If I ever become a one-bike guy, I’d definitely get a W800.
2019 Kawasaki Versys-X 300 – The best-kept secret in adventure bikes. Small, lightweight, and surprisingly capable—I even did the Sheetiron on it. Would buy again.
2021 Yamaha MT-09 – My current favorite, an absolute blast to ride. Lightweight, nimble, and powered by a fantastic triple-cylinder engine. With Yamaha’s reliability and modern electronics, I currently own this bike, and it’s a keeper.
2021 Yamaha Tenere 700 – A solid adventure bike with a great engine, but ultimately too big for my off-road needs. Dropped it a few times and realized I’d be better off with a 250-300cc dual-sport. Wouldn’t buy again.
2009 Suzuki TU250X – A charming little retro that was a joy to mod and ride around town. Unfortunately, it wasn’t practical for Bay Area freeways, but I’d love to own one again for city riding later in life.
2001 Kawasaki Super Sherpa – A surprisingly capable small dual-sport with a fantastic wide-ratio transmission. It’s showing its age now, and carb maintenance is a chore, but I still own it and enjoy riding it.
2006 Yamaha Stratoliner Midnight – My go-to highway cruiser that makes every ride effortless. Despite its massive size, it handles beautifully, looks fantastic, and delivers smooth, relaxed power. I currently own this bike, and it’s a keeper.
Looking ahead, my focus is on bikes that are reliable, simple, easy to maintain, and built to last. I value machines with strong dependability, good fit and finish, and the kind of quality that makes ownership stress-free and enjoyable. My future choices will always prioritize these qualities above all else.
December 30th, 2024. I started the day with a cold but sunny morning. It looked like a good day to get out, so I layered up and got on the bike.
Met up with Ayon on his Triumph Street Triple R and Mahesh on his Ducati Scrambler 1100. We headed south on Hwy 25 and took the cutoff toward Lonoak. Roads were open, traffic was light, and the ride felt smooth the whole way.
We crossed over to King City for lunch and stopped at a taco stand on Main Street called Tacos La Potranca De Jalisco. The food was excellent. No wait, no fuss, just great tacos and burritos. Everything was hot, fresh, and a lot cheaper than what we’re used to in the Bay Area.
After lunch we jumped onto Jolon Road, passed through Fort Hunter Liggett, and made our way to Nacimiento-Fergusson Road. This road had been closed off and on for years, and it finally reopened to through traffic not too long ago.
I hadn’t been on that stretch since November 2012. It felt great to be back. The curves on the Liggett side were clean and flowing. Once we started descending, the ocean came into view and the scenery just opened up. It was beautiful.
We ended the ride along the coast, Hwy 1 and 101 back home. Couldn’t ask for a better way to wrap up 2024.
August 23 and 24, 2024, were two unforgettable days spent exploring sections 1 and 2 of the Northern California Backcountry Discovery Route (NorCal BDR). I had been itching for a proper off-road adventure, and with Mahesh offering me the keys to his KLX230, the timing was perfect. A few friends from the ADV Rider community joined in, making this trip not just about the ride but also about camaraderie and shared challenges.
I started by renting an older Toyota Tacoma off Turo to haul the bike. The plan was to drive to Bridgeport, California, use it as a base, and take on the route from there. After checking into the cozy Bridgeport Inn and unloading the KLX, I set my sights on tackling Section 1 that afternoon.
Day 1: Exploring Section 1
The adventure began with Conway Ranch Road, a scenic two-track dirt road off Highway 395. It was sandy in spots, but the KLX230 handled like a dream—light, nimble, and confidence-inspiring. From there, I picked up Cottonwood Canyon Road via Pole Line Road, heading toward Bodie. This was an easy stretch, and I found myself pushing the bike, enjoying its responsiveness.
Bodie, the historic ghost town, offered a great photo stop before I climbed out on Bodie Masonic Road. Despite hearing warnings from other riders about the difficulty, the climb felt manageable. Maybe the KLX was just the right bike for the job, or maybe I got lucky, but either way, I was having a blast. The route offered a few fun water crossings and eventually led me down Aurora Canyon Road to Highway 182.
Before calling it a day, I made a quick detour to the Travertine Hot Springs. The area was peaceful, and I chatted briefly with a group of Swedish travelers soaking in the springs before heading back. On the trail back to Bridgeport, I encountered a bull snake lazily crossing the path—a fitting end to a day that felt deeply connected to nature. After riding 59.1 miles of mixed terrain, I parked the bike and grabbed dinner at Rhino’s Bar & Grill. The burger was decent, the beer refreshing, and the crowd had a small-town charm I wasn’t quite used to from the Bay Area.
Day 2: Conquering Mount Patterson
Day two brought reinforcements. Prashanth arrived with his CRF250, Prathap brought his Aprilia Tuareg, and Suraj joined with his CRF300L. Together, we planned to tackle Section 2’s hard split—Mount Patterson, which stands at an impressive 11,673 feet (3,558 meters), making it the highest point on the Northern California BDR. Its elevation and rugged terrain make it a challenging yet rewarding ride for adventure enthusiasts.
We started by riding down Highway 395 to Burcham Flat Road, a dirt superhighway where 60 mph felt easy and exhilarating. From there, the real fun began as we turned onto Lobdell Lake Road. The climb up to Lobdell Lake, around 9,500 feet, was scenic and peppered with shallow water crossings. The crisp air at the lake signaled that we were in for a cold day.
Prathap quickly discovered that the gnarly climb to Mount Patterson was too much for his Aprilia and decided to bow out early. The rest of us pressed on. The trail was steep, rocky, and unforgiving. My KLX struggled on the steepest inclines, its limited power requiring me to rev and dump the clutch to keep moving. Suraj had a small tip-over, and Prashanth, despite multiple crashes, showed remarkable determination, making it up 95% of the climb before his bike succumbed to the punishing terrain.
The final stretch to the summit felt surreal. The trail flattened briefly, revealing a landscape that looked like Mars—complete with a quirky sign that read “Mars with Flowers.” The last push was brutal, with loose rocks and relentless wind, but I made it to the top. There, a flag marked the summit, and I paused just long enough to snap a few photos before retreating from the freezing winds.
On the descent, I passed Suraj, who had decided to turn back after repeated attempts to climb the particularly tricky last hillclimb. At the base, we regrouped, shaken but exhilarated by the challenge we’d just faced.
We ended the ride by exploring FS-22482, a rugged road with one massive water crossing that nearly took me down. After a few miles, the terrain became increasingly tough, so we turned back to Lobdell Lake. Prashanth’s bike needed some roadside fixes—his bent shifter forced him to descend the mountain in first gear. Once repaired, we made our way back to the lake.
Wrapping It Up
With about 60 miles logged that day, I felt a mix of pride and exhaustion as I loaded the KLX back into the truck. We shared a few laughs, exchanged photos, and then I began the long drive home, stopping at Taco Bell on Highway 108 for a quick dinner.
These two days of riding were everything I could’ve hoped for—a perfect escape into the mountains, shared challenges, and the simple joy of a little bike that could. There’s something deeply satisfying about tackling tough trails and coming out the other side, stronger and more connected to the adventure. This trip was a reminder of why I ride: for the thrill, the camaraderie, and the moments of pure, unfiltered freedom.
On June 23, 2024, I finally tackled Section 3 of the Northern California Backcountry Discovery Route (NorCal BDR). For the unfamiliar, the NorCal BDR is a scenic and adventurous off-road motorcycle route that spans the length of Northern California. Designed for dual-sport and adventure motorcycles, it connects dirt roads, forest tracks, and backcountry trails, offering riders a unique way to explore the state. The official NorCal BDR documentary premiered on YouTube on May 16, 2024. I watched the entire film, captivated by the sweeping views, technical challenges, and camaraderie it showcased.
This ride had been on my mind ever since the documentary’s release, but it took me a while to get back in the saddle. About a month prior, Mahesh had a crash that shook me, and I hadn’t ridden since. However, with a free Sunday and a desire to shake off the nerves, I decided to take on Section 3.
The Ride: Bear Valley to Kyburz
Starting from home early, I rode to Bear Valley on my Yamaha Tenere 700. The warm temperatures began to creep in even during the morning, adding a layer of challenge to the day. Section 3 covers 85.9 miles, taking riders through stunning forested two-track trails, steep descents, riverside campgrounds, and scenic mountain views.
Right outside Bear Valley, the route quickly drew me in with its deep pine forests and peaceful trails. Winton Road offered a smooth backwoods pavement stretch, but the highlight was Forest Route 7N08—a steep descent to the Mokelumne River. Here, I took a break at one of the picturesque riverside campgrounds, dipped my feet in the cool water, and enjoyed a moment of relaxation before continuing on.
Crossing the narrow river bridge led to a series of steep, dilapidated pavement switchbacks. These climbs eventually opened up to the stunning traverse of the Bear River Reservoir dam—a view worth every hairpin turn. Further along, I took the optional detour to the Leek Springs Hill Lookout Tower (7,621’). This section was easy to navigate but offered incredible panoramas.
The final stretch followed the historic Mormon Emigrant Trail and concluded with a series of challenging switchbacks descending into the tiny town of Kyburz on Highway 50. The descent tested my nerves, but the Tenere 700 handled it beautifully, giving me the confidence I’d been missing.
The Journey Back
The ride back home was marked by one unavoidable factor: the heat. Temperatures soared to a scorching 104°F, making hydration and frequent stops essential. Despite the oppressive weather, I made it back safely, exhausted but exhilarated.
Riding Section 3 of the NorCal BDR was exactly what I needed. It wasn’t just about the miles or the scenery—it was about rediscovering my love for motorcycling and finding confidence in myself and my machine again. The Tenere 700 proved itself on every surface, and I came home with a smile, already dreaming of the next adventure.
This was supposed to be another classic Sierra passes loop—something we’ve done for years without a second thought (2011–2023). This time it was just Mahesh (BMW S1000XR), Ram (Honda Goldwing 1800), Anil (Yamaha FJR1300), Ayon (KTM Superduke 1290R) and me (Yamaha MT-09). Everything was normal at first. We took the usual side roads into the Sierra foothills, stopped for gas at the Chevron in Jamestown, and joked around like always.
Anil and I started riding ahead of the group after that, stopping at Donnell Vista to take in the view. But as the minutes passed and no one showed up, I started getting a bad feeling. Then Ayon pulled in about five minutes later, looking shaken.
“Mahesh crashed,” he said.
At the same time, I noticed a few missed calls from Akshay on my phone. My stomach sank. We rode back slowly, dreading what we’d find. When we got to the crash site, Ram was there. He told us what happened—Mahesh had T-boned a pickup truck that pulled into his right of way.
The scene was grim. Mahesh’s bike was destroyed, and while he later shared pictures of the crash, I can’t bring myself to post them here. What saved him was pure luck. There was a fire station nearby, so help arrived fast. The paramedics cut off his gear, stabilized him, and airlifted him to Doctors Medical Center in Modesto.
We rode to the hospital, hearts in our throats. Someone from SpeedMachis had already called his wife, and she was on her way. The initial news was rough: Mahesh had a cracked hip, injuries to his hands, legs, and knees. He stayed at the hospital for a few days before being transferred to a rehab center closer to home.
The recovery was brutal. It took months for Mahesh to heal—especially his torn ACL, which kept him limping the longest. I visited him as much as I could, but it was hard to shake the fear that had settled in. For weeks, I couldn’t even think about getting back on my bike without feeling sick.
That ride changed everything for all of us. It forced us to face how quickly things can go sideways. We know the risks—we’ve always known them—but this was different. Seeing one of us go down like that, so close to losing everything, hit hard.
Mahesh was lucky in so many ways. The fire station, the fast response, the fact that he was wearing all the gear—it all lined up in his favor. But it gave us all a reality check. Every ride carries risk, and every time we suit up, we’re trusting our skills, our gear, and maybe a bit of luck to get us home.
It’s worth noting that May 27th was Memorial Day, and the traffic was insane. Holiday weekends bring out more cars, more distractions, and more chances for things to go wrong. Looking back, we all agreed it was a mistake to plan a ride on such a busy day. In the future, we’ve decided to avoid riding on long weekends or holidays altogether—it’s just not worth the added risk.
Thinking about it all, I couldn’t help but feel terrible for the streak of bad luck Mahesh has faced recently. He lost his job before his trip to Ecuador, then his mother passed away not long ago—a loss that still weighs heavily—and now this crash on top of everything. To make matters worse, during our ride to Georgetown, Duncan Peak, and Foresthill, a bunch of his belongings were stolen including top box. It feels like the universe has been throwing shit at him, yet he’s faced it all without any complaints.
Even now, thinking back to that day gives me a long pause. It wasn’t just a ride—it was a reminder of how fragile this life is and how much we take for granted. Mahesh is back on his feet, and he’ll probably ride again, but none of us will ever forget that day.
On May 10, 2024 – a Friday – Mahesh and I decided it was time to hit the road. He rode his Ducati Scrambler 1100, while I took out the Tenere 700. The plan was simple: take Highway 26 through some quiet towns, grab a bite, and then climb up to Carson Pass on Highway 88.
Highway 26 was pretty smooth, winding through Valley Springs, Mokelumne Hill, and West Point – towns that feel like they’re frozen in time. When we got to West Point, we stopped at a local joint called “Pizza Plus” for lunch. Mediocre is putting it generously, but then again, when you’re in the middle of nowhere, you can’t expect a gourmet experience.
After fueling up, we hit Highway 88 and made our way up to Carson Pass. The ride became more scenic, and snow still coated the mountains, adding to the views as we climbed. The Tenere handled the twisties like a champ, steady and smooth, while Mahesh’s Scrambler tore through with that Ducati flair. Up at the pass, we took a break, enjoying the stillness and the cold mountain air.
The ride back was uneventful, but overall, it was a solid day out on the bikes. Great scenery, good company, and some fantastic stretches of road.
Sometimes, when you’re a rider, you get these moments. Boredom kicks in, and you just need a change of scenery – or, better yet, a nice, long stretch of road. So, that’s how I ended up on my Yamaha Tenere 700, heading down to Paso Robles. It was March 15, a Friday, and though there was nothing specific on the agenda, the open road felt like it was calling.
Taking Highway 25 both ways was a treat. That stretch of road is all about the views and less about the speed. The Tenere handles well – nice and smooth, eats up the miles without any fuss. It’s comfortable for these longer trips, though it’s no MT-09. I missed that sporty punch you get from a more aggressive bike. But that’s the trade-off with the Tenere: you get comfort and capability, just not the raw sportiness.
Once I reached Paso, I stopped at Firestone Walker Brewing Co. for a beer and a veggie burger. It was good, but the price was steep – $40 for a drink and a meal. Guess that’s just how things are these days.
Overall, the ride was solid, a good mix of solitude and scenery.
