Scrambling the Sierra Nevada Mountain Range
Produced by Scrambler Brothers, John Ryan Hebert & Jorma Vik
Directed by: Luke Adams | Cinematography by: Luke Adams and Amos Adams | Featuring: Jorma Vik | Photography by: John Ryan Hebert | Write up by: Jorma Vik
“Going to the mountains is going home”
John Muir wrote this of the Sierra Nevada Mountains in central California.
In recent years it’s become somewhat of a cliche idea, a slogan worthy of a souvenir t-shirt or inspirational meme. Cliche as it may be, these words resonate with me in vibrational harmony.
John Muir’s particular affinity for the Sierra becomes crystal clear when you’re face to face with them, witnessing the grandeur of its jagged peaks and valleys. You‘re speechless in its vastness. A spectator to the result of hundreds and thousands of years of violent plate shifting and glacial reconstruction.
The specific area we called home while exploring this region is somewhat unique in its geological diversity. A place where the snowmelt off of the Sierra spills into rivers and through massive canyons eventually collecting in the bosom of the mountains at the western side of the Mojave Desert.
The results are otherworldly and make for the perfect playground for us to enjoy our latest bike build.
The bike began its life as a 2003 Triumph Bonneville. It’s particular shortcomings in the off-road arena were quickly and painfully realized once taken to the desert for a spirited romp. So, the task was set forth of strengthening the weak points and giving it the old nip n’ tuck, aiming to make the machine more capable for terra multis enjoyment.
This was no novel idea.
Back in the 1960s and 70s hundreds of fearless barbarians would line up in the Californian desert to race what were essentially street bikes with each rider making unique modifications to their machines. The generic term used for these bikes was “desert sled”.
A pile of tires would be set aflame in the distance, a plume of smoke would arise to offer a visual waypoint and off they would disappear into a thick cloud of Mojave dust.
These days one can only imagine the glory of 100 scrappy death machines with no form of sound dampening, throttles wide open, plowing through deep sand, over creosote bushes or anything that had the misfortune of being in the way.
For most, the goal was to merely be able to finish the race, bike and body somewhat intact - A great achievement in itself.
To win was a feat of marvel.
This bike was built in the spirit of those likeminded individuals; men and women who put a pair of wings on a two wheeled pig. Roman gladiators of their time.
“El Trineo” (The Sled)
