Stories and Press

Stories and Press
Trail Riding in Nevada By Steve Eversfield and published in TrailBike* Magazine (UK) #13, Aug. 96* Tell me, where in the world can you have a day’s riding through desert scrub-land, over mountain passes, through snow drifts, along green, lush valleys, criss-cross a fast running stream, over 300 foot sand dunes, have a flat out blast on a dried lake bed, and finish off the day by having a beer in an authentic “old west” saloon? I know, because I’ve just come back from there. Nevada! Okay, so it’s not just a short drive in a transit van away, but surprisingly it’s not as difficult to organize or afford as you may think. Nevada Motorcycle Adventures is a company operated out of Reno by Matt Ernst. For $1795 he will supply you, for six days, with a Suzuki DR350 (equipped with Pirelli tires, Acerbis tank, and sundry other aftermarket goodies), fuel, backup truck, lodging, food, drinks, and guide you through miles of unmade roads, trails and the breathtaking scenery that are to be found in Nevada. After our journey to Reno, via San Francisco, Matt was there to meet me and Charlie (my next door neighbor who also fancied the idea) at the airport in his rugged-looking Chevy Suburban truck. Our group, which gathered together over the next 24 hours, was to consist of seven others, all Americans, one of whom was female. In skill and experience they ranged from a 3-time Baja Rally finisher to a 58 year-old pensions manager. Then there was Charlie and I. Charlie had done one Cambrian Rally, I had done all three, and have an unenviable record of dropping out of most of the enduros I have entered through either equipment failure or being just plain shagged out. Within ten miles of leaving Reno we were onto the dirt. Matt, as tour guide, briefed us on how to get the most distance in without anyone getting lost. Matt also arranged for one of the more experienced riders to act as sweep to make sure no one got left behind as buzzard bait. Pretty soon we were bowling along through beautiful terrain, as wild horses eyed us suspiciously from the scrub. After half a day of riding down bumpy trails and scrambling up loose climbs, Charlie and I both arrived in alien territory, sand. With the front wheel acting like someone else was steering it we fumbled our way across a valley floor to find the sanctuary of hard ground, and the opportunity for a breather. But come the end of the sixth day we were riding them dunes like desert veterans. Get the weight back to lighten the front end, a light touch on the handlebars and gas it. As part of his standard riding equipment, Matt carries a radio and cellular phone. At the appointed place we would find the support truck with garden chairs set out, a cool box full of drinks and the sandwiches that we had ordered earlier in the day. Sitting in the middle of the desert, after a good mornings ride, eating an overstuffed tuna sandwich with absolutely no one else around made me feel that life could not get much better than this. I forgot about work completely. During the course of our ride, Matt would stop to point out such things as fossils, petrified wood, geological faults and features, as well as the extensive litter of disused gold and silver mines. If you were not interested in such things you could just carry on riding. Each evening we would head to the nearest town with a motel to stop for the day. Not just any old town, small itty bitty towns in Nowheresville USA where ten dust encrusted dirt bike riders cruising down main street in pairs looked like the Wild Bunch riding into town. After a shower and a meal we’d all go gratefully to bed, awakening to find Matt and his truck driver repairing any damaged bikes, and oiling and tensioning all the chains, ready for another day’s action. During the course of six days, only one of the bikes had a major fault when it got stuck in first gear. Not that this was a problem, the spare bike was unloaded off the backup truck and we were immediately back to full strength. We had no punctures, a tribute to the durability of MT21’s and heavy duty Metzler tubes. As you may have gathered by now, I had a hell of a good time, and for around $300 a day, it really is not that expensive. I asked Matt before I left how many rides with him it would take before I’d go on the same route again, “…Oh about 15” he said. Guess I’ll be back then. This story has been edited to fit our information package.

Trail Riding in Nevada

By Steve Eversfield and published in TrailBike Magazine (UK) #13, Aug. 96

Tell me, where in the world can you have a day’s riding through desert scrub-land, over mountain passes, through snow drifts, along green, lush valleys, criss-cross a fast running stream, over 300 foot sand dunes, have a flat out blast on a dried lake bed, and finish off the day by having a beer in an authentic “old west” saloon? I know, because I’ve just come back from there. Nevada!

Okay, so it’s not just a short drive in a transit van away, but surprisingly it’s not as difficult to organize or afford as you may think. Nevada Motorcycle Adventures is a company operated out of Reno by Matt Ernst. For $1795 he will supply you, for six days, with a Suzuki DR350 (equipped with Pirelli tires, Acerbis tank, and sundry other aftermarket goodies), fuel, backup truck, lodging, food, drinks, and guide you through miles of unmade roads, trails and the breathtaking scenery that are to be found in Nevada.

After our journey to Reno, via San Francisco, Matt was there to meet me and Charlie (my next door neighbor who also fancied the idea) at the airport in his rugged-looking Chevy Suburban truck. Our group, which gathered together over the next 24 hours, was to consist of seven others, all Americans, one of whom was female. In skill and experience they ranged from a 3-time Baja Rally finisher to a 58 year-old pensions manager. Then there was Charlie and I. Charlie had done one Cambrian Rally, I had done all three, and have an unenviable record of dropping out of most of the enduros I have entered through either equipment failure or being just plain shagged out.

Within ten miles of leaving Reno we were onto the dirt. Matt, as tour guide, briefed us on how to get the most distance in without anyone getting lost. Matt also arranged for one of the more experienced riders to act as sweep to make sure no one got left behind as buzzard bait. Pretty soon we were bowling along through beautiful terrain, as wild horses eyed us suspiciously from the scrub.

After half a day of riding down bumpy trails and scrambling up loose climbs, Charlie and I both arrived in alien territory, sand. With the front wheel acting like someone else was steering it we fumbled our way across a valley floor to find the sanctuary of hard ground, and the opportunity for a breather. But come the end of the sixth day we were riding them dunes like desert veterans. Get the weight back to lighten the front end, a light touch on the handlebars and gas it.

As part of his standard riding equipment, Matt carries a radio and cellular phone. At the appointed place we would find the support truck with garden chairs set out, a cool box full of drinks and the sandwiches that we had ordered earlier in the day. Sitting in the middle of the desert, after a good mornings ride, eating an overstuffed tuna sandwich with absolutely no one else around made me feel that life could not get much better than this. I forgot about work completely.

During the course of our ride, Matt would stop to point out such things as fossils, petrified wood, geological faults and features, as well as the extensive litter of disused gold and silver mines. If you were not interested in such things you could just carry on riding.

Each evening we would head to the nearest town with a motel to stop for the day. Not just any old town, small itty bitty towns in Nowheresville USA where ten dust encrusted dirt bike riders cruising down main street in pairs looked like the Wild Bunch riding into town. After a shower and a meal we’d all go gratefully to bed, awakening to find Matt and his truck driver repairing any damaged bikes, and oiling and tensioning all the chains, ready for another day’s action.

During the course of six days, only one of the bikes had a major fault when it got stuck in first gear. Not that this was a problem, the spare bike was unloaded off the backup truck and we were immediately back to full strength. We had no punctures, a tribute to the durability of MT21’s and heavy duty Metzler tubes.

As you may have gathered by now, I had a hell of a good time, and for around $300 a day, it really is not that expensive. I asked Matt before I left how many rides with him it would take before I’d go on the same route again, “…Oh about 15” he said. Guess I’ll be back then.

This story has been edited to fit our information package.