Trail Riding In Bagdad

( NOTE: This ride was done nearly 1 1/2 years ago, and only recently did I realize I had never done a ride report on this awesome area! )

...Bagdad, AZ that is. ( I took lots of pics, so you might want to check out the full album ).

This is a ride I've been wanting to take for some time, and my recent trip to the Camp Wood area brought it back to the forefront of my list of to-do's...but these rides always add more than they remove, and scouring Google earth shows that this area is covered in trails, and I only scratched the surface today.

Starting out in Camp Wood...still looking green...but the terrain today would change rapidly...

After passing Yolo ranch and the 2 gates the allow access to Bagdad, I was in virgin territory and soon dropping in elevation. The road itself was actually nearly passable by passenger car, yet terrain later in the day would prove technical as just about anything I've ever done in a SxS. 

The road continued until dropping off a mesa and skirting a large canyon that, surprisingly, had a significant amount of water flowing. Miles later we would meet in person, but 1st I would marvel at rugged chocolate rocks peaking out from the mesa tops...

This is on a side trail looking back up toward Camp Wood at the mesa top with the main road snaking in the distance...

In a scene repeated often on the day, I just couldn't help but marvel at the beautiful Az day that unfolded before me, especially considering that this was a rather mild day for this area...

After winding my way on down the trail, I finally crossed that water...and it was running well enough for the locals to come out and play in the deeper pools. Later, I would learn that this area is known as Wild-horse basin, with a small ranch just up the creek. After crossing another small hill I was dropped onto a large flat plain for a few miles until I reached the mesa edge. Then the edge of Bagdad was before me...

I did go on down...but hit pavement, so decided to head back to the site of the pic and check out some side trails. I saw this remarkable site when looking west from the edge...

Notice all the trails, and its easy to see why I headed on down and followed one due west ( which is unnamed on any map I can find ) where I came across some old piping...which screams "mine" to us desert explorers. 

You knew this was rugged country...but even the jagged canyon I was about to enter would surprise me. No getting off the road here...and whoever made these roads definitely saw lots of profit to build a road into the side of a cliff. At the bottom was Boulder creek.

After snapping pics...I came to a realization when I saw Saguaro cacti growing everywhere: This was the 1st time I have actually ridden in true desert. Took 6 years after moving here to do it, but it was worth the wait. I was grinning from ear-to-ear all day.

Jumping back in the Pioneer, I followed the road on down and was surprised to see it cross the canyon bottom...complete with water deep enough to make me question crossing it. But I did, and found cool stuff for the effort. ( NOTE: I will have an accompanying video showing this road and creek at the end of this page ).

On the other side, the road twisted up this steep canyon-side and I emerged at the top to see relics of mans lust for wealth...

I was a bit confused as to what I was seeing...since among these was what appeared to be a modern pumping station of some sort...

...yet the other way was what appeared to be a retention pond of some sort...

...that I would end up crossing later. Trails went every way...but I like to feel out an area before I head off for miles into the distance, so I did some close exploring and ended up at a couple of wells, and later I would learn that this area in known as Warm Springs, and there was mining here complete with tailing pond, but the pumping station was simply put in a convenient location. I love finding stuff like this!!

Back out of this narrow canyon and back to some of the trails through the rock mountains from the earlier pic. Heading south-west, the trails were cut through gaps in the rocks, and lead over to some of the most rugged terrain Az has to offer...

No travel here except on the trail, unless you're a Javelina...

That trail appeared to lead back into town, so I turned and headed back to the main landmark for some lunch...

Too bad the locals had to screw it up with graffiti. Lunch of cold Mountain Dew and my favorite pastrami/pepperoni sub, a few minutes to take it in...and the dread of having to leave. Many trails to be done, but for now its time to head back.

Heading back up, I came across a road marked "Black Pearl", and decided to explore it a bit. Had to cross that creek again...

...and then hit some very eroded trails and rocks. After some miles of this I turned and headed back out, but found out later that I was really close to the "Black Pearl"...which was a sizable mine. More on the list...

Back up and out...all told, about 100 miles on the trip meter. This country never fails to please me. Almost unbelievably rugged canyons, yet 1/2 an hour from pine forest. Tons of relics to explore, and miles of trails to be seen. What a great day to be alive.

A bit of video of the area...

Charmed Life

Almost completely dark, with a big full moon. Clarkdale in the distance.

Here I am sitting on the side of Mingus Mountain just off Perkinsville road. It is completely dark, save for the full moon…one day removed from the blood moon eclipse event. I’m cooking up some spaghetti and meatballs on my Sterno stove. Streamed broadcasts on my phone are the only sound I hear except for some nocturnal birds to my rear. In the distance, a few miles away, the lights of Jerome twinkle…and even further, Clarkdale shines. Further still, a string of taillights heading for Sedona, AZ, light up the night.

Then it hits me: I am completely alone, and in a situation some folks would be terrified of. Poor suckers...

But not me…I revel in this. Out in the back-country, doing what I love, and still more coming to get back home.

After forcing myself to pack up post dinner, I roll on over to just above Jerome and a nice view of the Douglas Mansion and Gold King tourist attraction. Only dim lights in both...the night has sent people to the center of Jerome for some good food and drink, and maybe a ghost tour. I reluctantly turn and head for home…well, at least the direction of home…when someone else finally appears in the night. The tell-tale glow of LED’s to my rear, and I am soon overtaken by a XP1000 that had passed earlier. Someone else enjoying the high-desert night!

This “night” started many hours earlier in the day, when I headed straight from my driveway ( no trailer ) and into Chino Valley for fuel. Then on to Perkinsville road and Haystack…for a total of 112 miles. I have written about riding this area recently, and while there I had discovered a nice canyon on Granite Creek. Unfortunately, a party had already set up camp, so I was turned away. On this day it was vacant except for some hikers, so I got to explore a bit. Amazing that such a dry place can have such erosion from the force of water. I snap some pics of “measles rocks”, head back to Perkinsville road, and then take Narrow gauge road (318A) I talked of in my last post, to the east of where I was.

Measles Rocks

My goal was simply to follow it up and around towards Jerome, but alas…I got distracted by some roads heading south towards the Coyote Springs area, but stopping short of the actual development. After hitting a side trail and peaking on a tall ridge with an astounding view of the area...

...I noticed a cross positioned near the edge. The inscription simply read “Limon”, and gave some dates. Post ride research revealed that this was a Young man who grew up in nearby Prescott, and was found murdered in a BNSF facility in California where he had moved with his family. Later, his wife and her alleged lover were arrested for the crime, though the last report I saw said the charges against her were dropped, and the hearings are still pending. It seems markers in beautiful locations don’t necessarily have beautiful stories behind them. Godspeed, my friend.

After this, I spent the rest of the day making my way around Mingus and the old railroad bed…my original goal.

One side canyon, marked “CCC canyon” on topo maps, had been run by me previously in the dark, and I thought the views in daylight would be stellar…and they were. It was a rocky, climb with some ledges testing the tallish gearing of my Pioneer, but it did make it fairly easy. A great place to relax and have a Cosmic Brownie and a Grape Crush for a few minutes…until time took me back down to the old railroad bed. After exploring some of the many “tanks” perched on the hill side, I was again moving to the north on 318A. This former rail “road” is a little bumpy, but anything with clearance can do it in the dry with relative ease, while taking in some of the best views of Chino Valley and the surrounding area.

Cosmic Brownie and Grape Crush time!!!

Eventually, Perkinsville road joins with the old roadbed, and we begin what is the most spectacular leg of this old steam route up and across the summit. Again, this road is smooth gravel, but there are no guardrails, and going off the side means certain death in most places…as several crosses attest. It is here, while going through the large cut at the top, I first ran into the XP1000 that would be my only company for hours.

 A few miles later, I made it to the point where this story began…sitting on the side of a lonely mountain in the dark. But feeling very alive.

The last leg of my ride was back down the side of this mountain, via Perkinsville road. I had decided to make a loop of this, and sailing on through the night, I decided it would be cool visit to the Verde River Bridge. Approaching the river, I could already make out the faint glow of camp fires, and the delicious aroma of grilled burgers and wood smoke drifting across the cool desert air. People enjoying the night, just like me.

As usual, I had to make for home all too soon, but did so with a grin as I rolled up and across ridges, back to Chino Valley, with only deer and cattle as my companions.

I had to grin…knowing what I charmed life I lead. Some people spend their free time in front of the TV or computer, never knowing what the world holds outside of four walls. Not me.

If I ran out of brownies...

Chino City Limits, Continued...

The summit on CCC Canyon trail

After Spending half the day exploring Kings Canyon, Gold Basin, and a few other relics in my last ride report, I headed back to Perkinsville road, and then turned onto 318A, or Narrow gauge road, as some maps call it.

A brief history lesson is needed here…
This is the old roadbed for the United Verde and Pacific narrow-gauge railroad that was built into Jerome, AZ, chartered in 1894 and lasting until 1920. It started in a place called Jerome junction…renamed Chino valley in the early 1900’s. One of the wealthy Jerome mine owners built with his own finances after failing to coerce what is now the BNSF into building a route. It runs through the broad, mostly flat grass-land that encompasses the area between modern day Highway 89, highway 89a, and the base of Minus and Wood Chute mountains, taking a gentle rise to a low point, then winding its way back to the north across the mountains to Jerome.
Some had called it the one of “crookedest” railroads in the west, although in truth, it wasn’t even the “crookedest” in Yavapai County. The Santa Fe eventually realized the profits to be made in Jerome, and finally built its own standard-gauge line starting from Drake, AZ, several miles north, winding its way across the desert to the Verde river, and following it to Clarkdale…just below Jerome, with an extension eventually built up to the mines therein. At this point, the U, V & P became redundant, and was abandoned. The left over roadbed became the “back way to Jerome”, and is very popular with off-roaders today, even though most of it can be drive with a passenger car in dry weather. The newer Santa Fe route survives as the Verde Canyon Railroad, though freight is still hauled to Drake and transferred to BNSF at least weekly.

Road 318A is raised a few feet above the surrounding desert, and gives good views of this flat, and largely empty (in the immediate area) valley. Near a low point in Wood chute Mountain, the road turns north in-route to Jerome, AZ…and shortly after that, a large sub-station is passed. Here a turn is made on what maps call FS9007V, but most people know this area as Martin Canyon…or more likely, Smiley Rock trail.

Top: The rock garden on Smiley Rock.
Bottom: The source for the name.  Both taken from old red a few years ago.

Smiley Rock is quite popular among the local jeepers, and has appeared in major publications such as the now-defunct 4-WheelDrive & Sport Utility magazine. I have done it both on a quad, and last summer in my Pioneer when a group of Phoenix RZR’s ask me to show them the quick way back to highway 89A. It is essentially a trail through a dry creek bed in tree lined canyon. It is very rocky, and the last bit heading up the canyon is a pure rock-garden, though well within the capabilities of a 4x4 ATV or SxS who doesn’t mind scraping skid plates. Personally, it don’t feel it goes anywhere all that interesting, so I don’t tend to run it unless there is a good reason to do so. The main trail from the sub-station actually tee’s into Smiley Rock trail, and it’s the other direction leading away from this famous trail that I am here.

But first, a quick lunch break with some delicious chicken, mayo, and mustard sandwiches, a Cosmic Brownie, and some Grape Crush, while sitting under a pine waiting for any other trail travelers on this day…but none appear.

Soon I head south towards an area Called Coyote springs, with ever expanding homes…but at this point, they still haven’t encroached too much into the wilderness at the base of Woodchute Mountain. I have been out this trail only once, and it left more questions than answers…

Pretty soon I am to the point where I previously turned around at an intersection, and take one of the branches to the east, up Woodchute Mountain. Pretty soon this trail turns steep and rocky, with switchbacks…until the final switchback and apparent end of the trail, with no good place to turn the Pioneer around. After several tense moments, I manage to get pointed back down hill and work my way back to the bottom of the canyon. Post ride looks at topo maps show that the trail did, at one time, go to the top, but it will take something smaller than a SxS to do it now.

Back at the bottom, I check out a small side trail and I'm completely surprised to find the collapsed ruins of an old homestead and out building. Seems there was a nice living here for someone in the past, but it has mostly faded now.

After snapping some pics, I head back to the intersection and take the west branch, and find myself on the powerline service trail. I already know this is gated and locked at highway 89A…no doubt to appease the few houses perched on the hills nearby. Too bad, as one could conceivably ride it to 89A, then hit other trails a few hundred yards away, and get all the way into the Cherry area purely by trail…BUT…

I run it for a bit, but decide to turn back and head for the old railroad bed again. On the way, something catches my eye on the hillside, and I take the appropriate trails to get to what appears to be an old charcoal kiln. I can find no real info on it except for a Jeep message board post talking about it and my switch-back trail ( I also learn that there is a running spring near the old house, but I have yet to find it ).

After snapping some pics, it’s back on the trail. During my lunch break, I was looking over my topo app and noticed that one of the side-trails I had passed coming in was labeled “CCC canyon”, and I decided to take this in fading light. It wound its way up a canyon to a man-made wildlife tank that the Government has built in several locations, and then became very rocky while winding its way up a steep ridge…and ultimately to a high vista. Sadly, the light was all but gone, and the smart-phone that has replaced my regular camera on such outings shows its limits in low light, but I did manage a few.

So I just sit here as the sun sets, and the lights of Chino Valley, Prescott, and Prescott Valley begin to twinkle off in the distance.  And the cool air of probably 6000+ feet of elevation starts to settle in…

Shortly thereafter, someone in one of the aforementioned towns probably looked out the window and saw two strange lights bouncing down the side of Woodchute Mountain, and disappearing behind a foothill…near the old railroad grade. Probably being talked of on AM radio as I type this…

At this point, I know it’s time to head for home through the desert night, until the lights of Chino Town limits break it up. As I stop at McDonalds, I reflect back on this ride…and could never have imagined what lay just outside of town.

Chino City Limits

I used to see a show on TV listings called Austin City Limits. It has nothing to do with this blog, but I always thought it was a cool name for a show. A little Googling shows that it’s been on PBS for 40 years...yet I’ve never managed to watch one episode.

What I did manage to do is get out on the trails despite having low funds (that was a segue). I used only what I had in the Pioneer and my “reserve” gas can, and only what was already in my tow vehicle. This meant I couldn’t go far, but gave me the opportunity to check out some trails that have been rolling around my to-do box for a while. I headed out Perkinsville road only a few miles…probably actually IN the Chino Valley town limits if the truth were known, but that’s one of the advantages of living in a so-called “rural” area. The trails and back-country are never too far away.

My goal was to explore Haystack road, which eventually becomes a FS route in the general direction of the Verde River, and then just lead where the next trail takes me. As I said, Haystack has been on my list for a while, but I always skipped it for another trail because I thought it could go nowhere. As usual, when I finally get around to exploring those victims of trail prejudice, they reward me with un-expected surprises. Haystack does go nowhere (just where I wanted to go), and made for interesting bit of riding, with those remote treasures not everyone finds rewarding.

After a short distance, Haystack becomes FS 641. I had been told by a friend a few years ago that it went all the way to the Verde River at one point. After traveling for a few miles under 90 degree Arizona sun I began to encounter the usual dirt water tanks on mostly open grass-land, crossing a small wash a few times in-route. Truth-be-told, I had attempted this trail a few years ago in my Jeep after a heavy rain, and this same wash was flowing a few feet deep with run-off, but no problems today. A few miles in, the trail crested a small saddle in the low ridge that divides the drainage for the Verde River, and I was now traveling downhill into slightly thicker chaparral. The trail itself was not real rough…just enough to be a trail, but at this point was following a wash of its own.

After a narrow section and some small rock steps, the wash opened up and I found my 1st desert relics in the form of some water tanks, a small feed bin, and an old AerMotor windmill…the latter still spinning in vain, pumping water that isn’t there. And sounding much like one of the Tri-pods from the re-make of War of the Worlds from a decade ago. No EMP’s here, though. So after taking some shots, I consulted my topo app and noted that I was at the confluence of Gold Canyon and King Canyon, and then headed on down the trail.

Old feed bin and AerMotor, still working hard...and sounding creepy in the process. Gold Basin well.

A few miles later I was confronted with the all-to-familiar welded pipe gate and “No motorized vehicles beyond this point” sign that now block most easy access to the Verde River. I have documented one of these in a video before, and really expected to run into one at some point, albeit much closer to the Verde than this one was. Nothing left to do but turn and head back.

Once back at the old windmill, I decided to stop again and take a photo of a nearly buried water tank I had omitted before. After taking a few shots, I started hearing the tell-tell buzzing of a bee swarm several yards away. This would be of little concern to me except for the fact that Africanized Killer bees DO exist in Arizona. I high-tailed it to the Pioneer, and made the most of what power it has for several hundred yards. Strangely, this wouldn’t be the only time this scenario occurred today!

Buried tank at Gold Basin well, just before the bees came...

Once I had backtracked a bit, I turned onto FS 163. This number was familiar to me, and dumps you back out on Perkinsville road eventually, maybe 5 miles further than where I staged. In the meantime, it would its way across a few low ridges while snaking its way up Kings Canyon. Along the way were a few side roads I explored. These might have started life as woodcutting roads, but at this point they usually end at fire rings and campsites ( Arizona must lead the world in campsites ). A couple of these were interesting for the rock formations found.

Stopping on the way back to the main trail at a narrow spot where this trail splits two junipers, I hopped out to snap some pics when I started hearing thunder in the distance. My sight-line was blocked by a tall ridge at this point, but dark clouds were soon rolling across, and I decided to wait it out under the trees and take in the desert. Layers of rock to my right that defy time. The small wash to my left that testifies to the power of rain in the desert. The sprinkling of rain on my head as lightning flashes miles away. This is the reason I come here…to nothing…yet everything. Then I heard that buzzing again! For second time in a few hours, a swarm was headed my way. This time I simply stayed put, and it passed harmlessly by…though I am not sure where.  I guess it could have been the same swarm as the 1^st, simply heading in the same direction…

Storm clouds formed as I explored a side trail.

After the threat of rain dwindled I was back on 163 when I encountered what was called Kings well on my topo map. This whole area, it seems, has above average moisture just underground, as it has unusually high “greenage” for the desert. The well itself was fenced in and framed by some larger than usual pines…another sign of water in the soil. To access it required that I cross a field of sunflowers…

But first I hit the side trail leading off to the east. Again, it dead ended at some barren rock formations at yet another drainage eventually feeding the Verde River. And a fire ring. The rocks here showed more than usual erosion, so I can assume that large amounts of water can be present at times.

After exploring a small area and taking some pics, drops once again started to fall, and I headed back to the well, and spent some time under the trees enjoying a sliced chicken breast sandwich, topped by tangy mayonnaise and mustard. Washed down by an ice-cold Coke. Then checking out the infrastructure at Kings well, which was in a state of disrepair…including a poor AerMotor, who gave its all, and now sits neglected. Kings Well looks has not produced water in some time.

A snack spot at King's Well.

The old windmill at King's well gave its all.

After “veging” for a bit, I headed on up 163, and found that I was just a short distance from Perkinsville road. Sitting on the shoulder, I planned my next phase of the ride, and reflected on what I had seen already today. What was maybe the biggest surprise was that at this point I was a mere 7 miles from main street in Chino Valley…and the bulk of the ride was probably spent less than 5 miles from town. A surprising little adventure where I never expected such, and an enjoyable segment of trail for reasons I can’t really explain. I guess the simple things in life include simple little trails.

My ride was not over yet, though. My next move was for Martin Canyon and Smiley-rock trail…but that will wait until next time.

To be continued…

Click here for part II 

More From Limestone Canyon

I’ve written about Limestone Canyon and Forest Service road 573 before, and how it’s my “default” riding area on those days when I don’t get out of bed early enough to go elsewhere…but there are days when I choose it regardless.

The road starts just north of Paulden, AZ, heading west from highway 89, just a bit south of the soon-to-be-replaced Hells Canyon Bridge. It was one of the 1st off-roading trips I took in the area after moving here to Chino Valley, and the feeling I got from it was one of isolation and remoteness. Interesting, since the lower area was home to a small community in the early 20th century. According to late 1800’s maps, there was also an “old fort” in the area as well…but again, the few efforts I know of to find it (including my own ) have turned up little. And as I mentioned in my linked post, most of the 1st several miles were home to the original alignment of the Santa Fe, Prescott, and Phoenix Railroad and its tumultuous route off of Big Black Mesa. A lot of “stuff” for such a lonely feeling place. Only the old ROW for the train, a decaying charcoal kiln, and probably some graves remain.

Once 573 reaches the top of Limestone canyon, it follows the top of Big Black Mesa for several miles, offering a great view with slightly cooler temps, and a nice remote experience without being too far from the world. The old rail line leaves sooner, but remains just a short ride to the east on a few of the side roads. Our primary goal was to be in the back-country, but the secondary goal was to hike a railroad cut on the northern end. Turns out it would take a couple of tries.

The first attempt was under the neighborhood of a 70% chance of monsoon rains and a flash flood alert, but the weather people out here are worse than average, so it was no surprise when we needed sunblock at the staging area.

Weather wasn't too bad when we started.

After winding our way past miles of juniper and rock peeking out from above, we took a side trip to one of the many earth water catchments called Upper Limestone tank. Standing guard is an old corral that may not be up to the task these days...along with a few other relics.

The old corral 

I’m always fascinated by such artifacts, and often wonder just how long they have been around. I can’t help but wonder if the hands involved are still with us…and if they enjoyed what they were doing as much as I think I might have, had my “job” involved such a workplace. Cattle stomp around in the very low water, the level of which surprises me. This tank has always been full enough to qualify as a small pond, and we have had decent rain in the past several months since I’ve been here. And we are about to get more.

By the time we move on the clouds have moved in, and we are definitely a go for rain in the next few hours, but we were prepared. Sorta.

By the time we turn east on FS601 and stop near the cut, the lightning is flashing in the distance, and the tell-tell ghostly stains of rain are streaming from cloud to earth. As I mentioned above, 573 this far north is at the top of a long mesa, with little ground higher than the road itself, so it’s not the place to be during a lightning storm. Thankfully, our parking spot is a low lying area with trees for protection ( and alternate targeting for any bolts from heaven ).  Just as I grab my gear to step out for the hike, the clouds let go into a slow, steady rain. So we parked under a group of thick Junipers, put on our $1 “emergency ponchos” ( about like a cheap garbage bag with a hood), and opened up the liquid refreshment to wait it out. And waited. And waited.

You can't tell from the pic, but as we stopped for a hike, the rain started to come down.

Stuff like this normally doesn’t last in the desert…but this, as it turned out, was the remains of a tropical storm from the Gulf of Mexico, and it wasn’t letting up anytime soon. Being in a SxS meant that we were mostly shielded from the rain, as was our gear, but some still sneaks in from the sides and front, and we were slowly getting soaked below our protective gear. Heading back meant that we would REALLY get it from the front with no windshield, but to delay any longer would have just brought us closer to getting really cold, so we made for the trailer. What followed was 45 minutes of the most fun trail riding I’ve had for some time…

Rain in the desert is a special event. Even though it’s not very rare, being out in the back-country to see it is. As we climbed back up to 573, the rain was pouring, and while the lightning was flashing in the distance, it was far enough away to be of little concern. In the slow climb over this rocky side road, I slowly watched the desert transform from dusty red soil to sloppy flying mud, with the earth all the while exhaling with relief. Dry washes and gullies I had ridden by hundreds of times were now flowing with runoff, and I couldn’t help but stop and examine a few. What the hell? I was already wet…

I’m sure many of the huge jack-rabbits in the area were hunkered down under Juniper or Manzanita wondering what these 2 fools were doing splashing through the rain, and the mist from the rain itself hitting us in the face and running off the Pioneer's top ( right in our laps…thank you Mr. top engineer! ) was exhilarating to say the least. Too much so, as the storm has dropped the temperature enough to be a bit chilly. A little cold, but quite an entertaining ride for those next few miles to the waiting trailer, cutting the ride short at around 4 o’clock. I normally don’t pack it in until well after dark, and had we the proper rain gear, we might have stayed out there until wife-pissed thirty.
About the only regret was that the rain put the kibosh on much in the way of photos…and I can’t believe I didn’t think of the GoPro's water-proof case, but mounting it to get anything other than a wet lens would have been difficult. Still, a memorable moment provided by Mother Nature for reasons many people would never understand.

What is it about such a simple event that makes it so memorable? Why does something my wife considers me crazy to enjoy cause two grown men to giggle like kids and have a blast? Why is it that despite being soaking wet and cold, we both absolutely hated to leave?
My theory is because the added elements outside the comfort zone change it from being a fairly normal event into an adventure…in a Walter Mitty sorta way. I love to get out and trail ride, and do so almost every weekend, but adding some lightning and a downpour transformed it into something truly memorable even though we were in no real danger. Yet the personal legend grows with each one of these, and another story to tell the kids hits the books.

My advice for you is the next time you are thinking about trail riding, and you look out the window and see those clouds…and wonder if you should? Go for it anyway. Worst you can do is get wet and cold. The best you can do is to have a blast.

Coming soon: Attempt number two!

DISCLAIMER: It is possible my wife is right, I am crazy, and you shouldn’t ride in adverse weather conditions.