Sun blazing, sweat rolling, muscles aching, I'm lifting my Husky 701 for the 30th time today, trying to navigate and lift the weighted-down back end of this nimble beast over yet another bed of red rocks on a mountain side that I have no business being on. It's day 2 of a 1300 mile trip my buddy and I have dreamt up. We're resting, smiling and sweating like stuck pigs. We're somewhere on the Lockhart Trail, going north to south and loving how painful this is. We will be camping and riding dirt, mud and rocks for next week. Hotels are against the rules. Crying is also against the rules. I'm a street biker. I am not a dirt biker. I own a WR250F and have been on it maybe 4 times. Ever. That's the extent of my dirt riding experience. In fact, I've done more dirt on my FJR1300 than I have on that WR. So that's why I have no business being out here, in the middle of Southern Utah madness, Desert Solitaire on steroids. We've both been riding bikes since college, My buddy and I - in fact he’s the one who got me into riding. Now 20 years later we find ourselves in this heart of darkness, the desert that is both my home and a strange mystery. I am as much a noob as you can be when it comes to ADV riding. I had a BMW F650 GS and certainly did some fire road riding and had a few little adventures that way but this is different. We are alone and will ride over 1300 miles, mostly on dirt and trails, mostly in the gorgeous, God-hammered desert wilderness of southern Utah. I've been camping and hiking there for the better part of my life but everywhere we went on this trip - I've essentially never been to. It was all new.