Breakfast, day one. Eat hardy, men. It'll be a long time before you see food in a setting as civilized as this. 

Tracy Smith wheels out his bike, dawn on day one. 

The dreaded scale of death. I was severely overweight, but at least the penalty ($10 per pound) money went to a good cause. 

The gear bag trailer. You couldn't pay me enough to drive the two vehicle pulling this wide trailer down the narrow, pothole filled highways of Baja.

First gas stop, day one. 

Tracy Smith re-jets Zan's bike, early on day one. Zan claims he brings Tracy along for the father-son bonding, but the rest of us suspect it's because Tracy can re-jet a bike 10 times faster than Zan can. 

A whole bunch of us ended up taking a wrong turn and ending up here. We waited until Mark rode back and found the route.

We came across Pua and the rest of the Conga Line. Rocky had gone down hard. When we came up, his head was hanging down on his chest and a few of the guys were working hard on their thousand yard stares. 

About the time things looked pretty grim, Rocky's head popped up and he was raring to go. He simply said, "just put me back on my bike."

At the orphanage, lunch of day one. 

Unloading and distributing the toys from my backpack to the kids. I carry down a backpack full of little toys. I think buying them with my wife is almost as much fun as giving them out. Unfortunately, she misses out on the smiles and giggles. 

The staffers at the orphanage. 

Most of these kids come off the streets of Tijuana, so they haven't had much in the way of material goods in their lives. They really appreciate even the little things that I can fit in the backpack. 

A shoe / boot comparison. 

All the kids gathered for lunch. The kids live about a dozen to a house. They were running two houses this year. 

Gassing up at the orphanage. 

On to the second house after lunch. More toys, more kids, more smiles, more giggles. 

The kids really enjoyed and took pride in showing off their rooms with their very own bed. 

MSA has contributed over $50,000 to the orphanage over the years. The riders really feel like they get to make a real difference in these kids' lives. 

My first visit to Mike's Sky Ranch. 

The famous pool at Mike's. Lots of bikes have gone swimming here. 

The bar at Mike's. There's not one square inch in the entire place that's not covered by racing team stickers, sponsor decals, business cards, etc. 

Jim Libby shows off his Mike's t-shirt while Russell relaxes. 

The official Mike's jeep stands guard over the road leading up and out. Some very nice riding after Mike's. 

Bob waves hello on our way down to the beach. I rode sweep with Bob almost every day. 

Jimmy Sones, our intrepid flag warrior sitting guard over the beach entrance. 

An abandoned ship along the beach. 

John Lee washing his bike at a flower shop. He negotiated a great rate, but we couldn't talk the owner into posing for a picture with us. 

Tracy Smith uses a little encouragement on his bent exhaust. 

Wayne Martin trying to figure out why my bike sounded like it was going to explode any minute. It was knocking like crazy. The consensus opinion of all the old salts (with about 4,000 years of combined experience listening to thumpers) was to ride it until it broke. So I did. 

Many people ask, "how did Malcolm get started riding?" Right here. This is Malcolm and his childhood buddy. They grew up riding Cushman scooters. If you ever get a chance, don't miss hearing these "first days" stories from Malcolm. They are priceless.