In a high desert ecosystem like Eastern Oregon, rain is your best friend — until it’s not. Shaped by the rain shadow of the Cascades, little to no precipitation falls in the desert for months at a time, reducing the vegetation to sagebrush and grasses and the soils to a silty and sandy mix. Wildlife is sparse and human development even more so. You can easily ride a hundred miles without seeing another soul.
Storms, most common in the winter, are a necessary ingredient for good motorcycling conditions, transforming the soft ground into a tacky surface that is trustworthy at speed. However, with too much rain, the surface evolves into a clay-like adhesive that can cake a tire in seconds, creating almost zero friction between rubber and road — a dangerous ice rink effect. Therein comes the rub.
As we flew by Wagontire Mountain, halfway between the small outpost of Burns and the even smaller hamlet of Christmas Valley, the rain picked up and the invisible threshold was crossed. Unknowingly, I pulled my front brake a little too hard on a downhill corner, triggering the front tire to wash out and throwing me sideways off the bike. A small mistake with potentially huge consequences.
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