Note from the editor

In the previous edition of BTA Magazine, we introduced you to the beginning of an epic journey led by Justin Kleiter. This tale marked the start of an adventure across the shifting landscapes of the American Southwest. The story concluded with our riders at the epicenter of two converging atmospheric rivers, facing the fierce elements with frost already building on their saddles. The anticipation for what lay ahead was palpable, setting the stage for the second part of this thrilling odyssey.

Now, in this second installment, we continue to uncover the secrets of the desert and push the boundaries of adventure motorcycling. From the high elevations of Arizona, California, and Nevada, where early spring blizzards awaited, to the camaraderie forged in the face of adversity, join us as we delve deeper into Justin Kleiter’s journey. The frost was building, the stakes were higher, and the spirit of adventure burned brighter than ever. Welcome back to the next chapter of our epic winter motorcycle adventure.

The morning air was crisp and stinging as I drew in my first breath. I’d walked out of my motel room door minutes after 6 am. I took in another long pull of the cold morning air and held on to it for a moment as if contemplating whether I was ready for this. I exhaled it in a big puff. Immediately, it rose in a cloud of freezing vapor. I looked over at Shawn scraping the quarter inch of frost off his saddle. He chuckled with a big grin on his face as if saying, ‘what the heck did I sign up for?’

We joined the others in the hotel breakfast room. A sweet old lady was serving up scrambled eggs, biscuits, gravy and sausages, nice to have something warm to eat along with the various cold continental options one finds in a mid-level chain like the Best Western. The chipper breakfast matron made up for any of the luxury frivolities we may have been missing. The mood was high with the team. I think we all knew the challenges we were facing but it was going to be important to have a discussion to make sure everyone was on board for what could be in store.

In between bites, I opened up the discussion, “so how’s everyone feeling?” I tried to force a bit of upbeat joy into my tone, but I’m sure it was swallowed up by my real concerns.

Everyone responded with positive variations of being awake at least.

“Well on a positive note, I checked WeatherUnderground when I woke up this morning and things are playing out nicely with what Josh and I guessed based on the forecasts. It’s cold out there, right around 30 degrees Fahrenheit, so all that moisture from yesterday’s rain is frozen solid. It should warm up a bit but the highs are only forecast to barely scratch 50°F today in the lower elevations around Winkleman. But the really good part is that it should be clear where we are headed today. This is the break we saw in the forecast. I hope it will stay true and our plan to swing south and wrap under the next precipitation cycle will play out. From the looks of it, we will get a bit more rain tomorrow morning as we roll out of Tucson, after that, the cycle coming out of the Sea of Cortez should continue moving northwest and hopefully we end up with clear skies to Yuma. And in the even bigger picture the hope is that as we swing north on the CA BDR we will be right behind the Pacific storm as it pushes further east over Nevada and Arizona.”

This was the plan Josh and I concocted as we took notes on the forecasts for twenty different locations over this region. We were doing our best to understand the patterns of the converging storms. Our initial route plan was driven by current snow levels. As much as we would have liked to pick one BDR route and complete it from start to finish, an early February itinerary would make that impossible. Impassable passes chock-full of winter snows separated the lower lying desert regions of any of the southern BDR’s. We’d looked at New Mexico, Arizona, So. California and Nevada routes, knowing that the others, like Colorado, Utah, Wyoming, etc. would still be locked in full winter and not passable until maybe June even.

In our impromptu planning meetings, just ten days prior, we discussed the possibility of linking together the low lying sections of the three southwest BDR’s into a makeshift loop that would at least give the feeling of completing a BDR route. We’d planned to head out of Phoenix to Kingman and hit NV Sections 1 & 2, swing into Death Valley and grab CA Sections 4, 3, 2, & 1, then transit the southern border country of Arizona to pick up AZ Sections 1 & 2 and then loop back to Phoenix with high fives all around and then off to our respective busy motorcycle seasons ahead.

It was a solid plan, I’d thought, and then came the weather. A first wave of this storm system was already upon my hometown of Bishop, California during our Facetime planning calls. The White Mountain Range, out my window to the east, was obscured by heavy dark clouds and the branches of the big elm in our front yard could be heard scraping the roof above my study.

This storm was building and from the sounds of the forecasts we were in for a whopper over the next couple of weeks. The storms were stacked up coming across the Pacific in waves. This one was meant to wreck havoc but the next one was the real concern. Its path was due to come in over that Baja Peninsula of Mexico stretching all the way to the bay area of San Francisco. Terms like ‘Atmospheric River’ and ‘Pineapple Express’ echoed through the forecasts. I explained to the team what this meant for our desert route; washed out roads, blizzards in the high country, snows at levels lower than normal and unseasonably cold temperatures, high winds and general chaos to the roads and traffic patterns throughout the region.

“Well should we cancel it?” It was a valid question.

“Let’s dig into the forecasts a bit more before we do that,” I said. “Any of you have time to help me through the data,” I asked.

“I do,” replied Josh from Yellowstone Harley-Davidson. “I spend a lot of time watching weather reports up here in Montana.”

Over the next few days of planning, Josh and I scoured as much information as we could digest. There was a pattern forming. If we reversed the direction of the plan, we might slip through the worst of it.

And now, here in Globe, Arizona, on February 9th, we saw that plan and the forecasts aligning with luck. The two atmospheric rivers were colliding just to the northwest of us. Flagstaff was getting pounded with a blizzard, I-40 had been closed, Los Angeles got pounded with close to a foot of rain in areas while Mammoth Mountain and the resorts around Lake Tahoe were reporting feet upon feet of avalanche prone snow. Yet here, where we sat with bellies full of anticipation butterflies, we had early morning sunshine cresting the Gila Mountain Range glinting off the fresh snow on the mountains all around us.

I continued our brief, “Before we get to the warmer weather, we have to cross one of the higher passes, and unfortunately we do that immediately. It’s good that we fueled up last night in preparation. We can get geared up warm and roll right into it, but my concern is snow on the pass and even more dangerous, black ice.” I took a breath and stuffed another fork load of scrambled eggs into my mouth.

“We know that Pioneer Pass is snowed in. We could see it off to the south as we rode in here last night. It crests just over 6,000’ and from what I’ve been seeing all around us and Josh confirmed with the snow overlays on the BDR interactive map, snow is reaching down to just below 5,000’ throughout the area. Section 2 of the AZ BDR has an easier paved alternate but it still gets up kinda high, pretty much bumping right up to that snow level. El Capitan Pass is our high point and it is just a handful of miles from here.”

“What are our options at this point?” it was Shawn, a mild look of concern on his face.

“I guess the way I see it, we either leave now and use our absolute best riding and judgement negotiating likely icy AZ 77,” I paused, “or we sit here in Globe until probably 11 am and cut out these sections of the AZ BDR and go directly to Tucson after the roads have melted and dried out.”

It was obvious as I looked around the table that we were gearing up and heading out.

“Let’s go!” Shawn said. “We knew this is what was on deck. Time to put ‘em in Rain Mode and be mellow getting over this pass. After that it’s only mud and washouts right?”

“And probably a bunch of sand…” groans and chuckles.

“Well this is what we came here for. If we wanted sunshine and easy roads, we’d have gone to Daytona on ElectraGlides.”