A Different Breed | Off-Road vs Moto 16

I've been riding dirt bikes for most of my life, primarily on motocross tracks. I did some trail riding as a kid when we lived in Hawaii and later rode in the desert a bit near Barstow, California, but motocross is what I'm comfortable with. Until recently, I hadn't spent significant time riding off-road. In the last two years, that has been changing and I've quickly learned how different and difficult it can be. 

In 2022, I came to Southern California to pick up my Yamaha YZ250 two-stroke from Kris Keefer, who took me on my first desert ride in over thirty years. As we headed up into the hills of the HiDez, I remember thinking, "This will be fun and easy. I don't have to jump any big doubles or worry about swapping through a set of rollers. Climbing these hills will be a piece of cake." Man, was I wrong.

Early on in that ride, we came to a hill (mountain in my mind) where Kris, his son Aden, and friend Gregg seemed to have little to no problem climbing. In my first attempt, I clipped a rock about a quarter of the way up, lost momentum and traction in the sandy terrain, and stalled the bike. I cautiously manhandled the bike to point it back downhill and rolled down to attempt it again. Remember, these hills are steep, and footing is at a premium. Desert rats like the Keefers are comfortable with it, but I was terrified of falling over on the high side while turning around. All I could see was my body tumbling down the hill over all the rocks.

Funny enough, I didn't fall down the hill, but I did get one hell of a thorn in my finger from some kind of deadly desert plant left over from prehistoric times. I later had to have it cut out at an urgent care facility, but that's not important. Eventually, I made it up that hill, and it felt amazing. The ride had only begun.

As the day went on, I was educated on how much skill off-road riders have as I continuously struggled in the desert terrain. Sand washes, rocks, hills, and plant life all threw challenges at me, and I failed repeatedly. I don't know how many times I crashed that day, but by the time we got back to the van, I was exhausted and dehydrated, all to my friend's amusement. It was eye-opening and one of the most difficult rides I'd done. To my buddies, it was an easy day of riding. It was certainly a different skill set, and I was thankful I survived.

Later that year, I did my first GNCC at Ironman in Crawfordsville, Indiana. That was my first off-road race, and once again, I was taught some lessons. The course was very different from the desert riding I'd done, and more terrain and obstacles you won't find on a motocross track. We started in the corn fields and headed into the woods, where I encountered roots, creek crossings, trees, and the famous Ironman Hill.

I found it difficult not to clip trees or lose the front when braking as the front tire found tree roots because I was trying to ride it like I do in moto. That doesn't work. The bike reacts very differently, and more finesse is required. As far as Ironman Hill and some of the other climbs there, they are kind of scary if you haven't experienced much of that. Racing up and down the mountain at Glen Helen is no big deal, but going up a hill in the woods with one line full of chuck holes and roots is something altogether different. There are plenty of YouTube videos on Ironman Hill if you aren't familiar with that experience.

Before I got to the hill, I believed it would be a piece of cake. My confidence was short-lived, once again proving my lack of skill sets. In my mind, motocross riders were the most skilled guys on a dirt bike, but I was finding I underappreciated what off-road riders do. Riders like Cody Webb, Ricky Brabec, Rachael Archer, and Kailub Russell have incredible talent and control of their machines in the toughest situations. They are able to read the ever-changing terrain and react so quickly to upcoming dangers that most of us would miss.

The bike skills and control it takes to ride that terrain differ greatly from motocross. You can't just pin it to get through a section of whoops or to clear a double. The motorcycle is constantly trying to deflect off rocks or roots, and you have to be smooth on the throttle. Squeezing the bike and staying loose is important, like in moto, but a motocross track is more open. On a motocross track, you make multiple laps, and although the track changes, I usually know what to expect each lap. I never really know what to expect next riding off-road. Understanding what a large rock on the side of a hill will do, crossing a creek bed, reading terrain, and even the fitness it takes for a two- or three-hour race are all different skills that set off-road riders apart.

I did two more GNCCs in 2023 and have gotten minimally better. I at least finished them both, but one of my biggest challenges came in the last week. I'm back in the HiDez of Southern California, visiting with the Keefer family, who have graciously allowed me to stay at their home. Kris and Aden wanted to take me on a trail ride near their house for a little fun. They warned me some areas were difficult but said I would be 'fine.' In this case, I felt that was a subjective term, but I gassed up my new Yamaha YZ450F, put the suggested 15 psi in the tires, and threw on some gear.

One of the appealing things about the area the Keefers live in is you just take off from the house and ride to the trails. The ride started fairly easily by hitting some small hills and riding down a river wash that wound through the area. Following Kris and Aden, I was impressed and frustrated with how easily they ripped through the sandy area, avoiding the brush while I struggled to get the bike to go where I wanted. The tires seemed to suck down into the sand and deflect off every rock or washout rut I hit. We dropped down a small washout at the top of a hill, my front tire caught the gully's edge, and I was instantly slammed on the ground. It looked like a simple obstacle, but I was unprepared for how the bike reacted.

I got back on the bike, dusted my ego off, and caught up to the waiting guys ahead. We rode along what I would call Jeep trails for a bit, and then things got really interesting. We approached the side of a hill littered with boulders and had a little single-track trail along the side. This was the most challenging thing we'd done so far, and I was a bit scared. If you fell to the low side, you were tumbling down a rocky ravine. It takes incredible bike control and balance to do this well. I fumbled through it, yelling profanities as I stalled the bike multiple times. As nervous and frustrated as I was, it was an amazing view. You could see mountains in the distance, a river down below, and miles of beautiful desert. There is a beauty to the desert that is hard to explain if you haven't experienced it. It's incredibly peaceful and stunning.

Again, being aware and reading the terrain is so important in off-road riding. As we came off the goat trail, there was a little rise with some ruts in it, and you had to climb to the ridge and immediately turn so as not to drop back off into a washout on the other side. So much attention and awareness are required to avoid all the dangers and obstacles that can quite literally kill you.

If I wrote about every detail of what we rode through, this story would be 5,000 words, so I'll wrap up with two more moments that stood out. The first is what I think was the most joy for Kris and Aden. We came off the ridge of death into a huge riverbed. Aden laid out a rut track in the sand, and I watched the father and son rip it up for an hour. Watching them ride a corner track that inevitably will wash away in the next rain was the epitome of why we ride. Simply put, they were having fun. Seeing how much fun they were having together made me incredibly happy. Seeing them stand up through the sandy corners and jump over little ledges was cool. I took a few laps and once again was in awe of how talented those guys are. It was exhausting because I was fighting the bike and trying to brake, going into the corners instead of letting the deep sand do the braking for me.

The last story I'll tell was not so joyful. Not for me, anyway. Kris and Aden thought it was hilarious. We left the riverbed and started to head back. Kris decided to climb a hill on a trail he hadn't done before. I did not know this at the time. From the bottom, it looked somewhat easy. My first attempt resulted in me turning around and returning to the bottom to try again. My second attempt got me about halfway before I stalled out. Stalling out on the side of a sandy, rock-filled hill isn't as simple as just taking off again. Keeping your balance is incredibly difficult, and no traction can be found. Every time I tried to go, the rear tire would spin and slide off the low side. I had to get off and drag the rear back to the 'trail' ledge. It took all my energy, and I simply got to a point where I didn't know what to do. I was ready to give up.

Kris got close, told me to calm down, and said, "You've got this." I replied, "No, Kris. I don't have this." I was having a full-on meltdown and temper tantrum, which included an Olympic-worthy goggle toss. I was ready to yell, "Chubby Checker," the 'safe word' we had established earlier if it got too gnarly. I had forgotten about that at this point.

In the end, with some help from my friends, I got to the top. We rode back to the house, and on the way, there was yet another hill I struggled to get up. It was embarrassing, eye-opening, and, looking back, a damn good time. I told Kris I would never ride with him in the desert again, but I bet I could be talked into it. You can watch some of the highlights of the most recent ride on Keefer's YouTube channel. Clearly, off-road riders are a different breed with more talent and guts than I have. They are underappreciated as well. The skills it takes to deal with the different terrain they encounter are awe-inspiring and impressive, and I can't wait for the first round of the GNCC at Big Buck in South Carolina. I hope to see you there.