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He told me it couldn't be done!
by Cynthia Quispe
I ride two-up with Chris on a Suzuki GS850 built like a tank with 4 panniers added to it to store all of our gear as we travel around the world for the next five years to raise funds and awareness for world hunger. My first week on the road found us in the middle of the Arizona desert with nightfall fast approaching. We took a gravel trail off the highway onto BLM land to find a place to camp, searching for any relatively good sized shrub to provide a modicum of shade to help beat the ferocious heat that would come in the morning. Chris spotted a place that seemed relatively smooth and started to maneuver the bike in the right direction when all of a sudden the back wheel started spinning as the trail gave way to deep sand. We were stuck and despite our best efforts we couldn't move the HEAVY bike an inch. We called AAA but were out of luck as we were too far off of the main road. When I suggested that we dig the bike out, Chris scoffed at my suggestion. "The sand goes all the way to China." Hot, tired and frustrated he called his buddy to commiserate. I grabbed a flat rock and started digging the sand that was seemed to drown the back tire and exhaust. After finishing his phone call, Chris found me covered in sand, sweat and dust behind the bike. With a little persuasion, he climbed on to the bike and started her up while I pushed from behind. Sand flew backwards but slowly the bike moved forward a little then stopped. We dug some more and then repeated the scenario until finally we were home free! I slept well that night, a smile of satisfaction on my face.
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