ADVENTURE RAID
the desert below. To the north, an expansive sea of sand rippled toward the U.S. border like endless sets of waves across an ocean. To the east rose the imposing Sierra Pinacate, high volcanic peaks chiseled over millennia from magma that belched from the earth’s bowels 4 million years ago. This was the Gran Desierto de Altar, home of the pre-Columbian San Dieguito people and one of the planet’s largest collections of maar craters. In the distance, a faint dust trail appeared on the horizon, shadowed by a dozen more. The tip of the spear dune, ascending it like a shot through a gun and disappearing off the other side toward the coastal town of Puerto Peñasco. The ensuing procession of dual-sport bikes, UTVs, and four-wheel drives was an imposing scene. We weren’t participating in this five-day contest of speed and endurance, but rather, we were an ambulatory band of desert vagabonds—groupies, you might say. This was the Yokohama Sonora Rally (), and our little posse comprised the Adventure Raid Class.
