With morning dew still on the pavement, I proceeded with great caution, trailing John on the smoky Ossa, banking up into the charred hills high above Santa Barbara. The G/S was actually pretty bearable on the pavement, just like the last one I rode back in the ’80s. Then the pavement ended, and I found myself on a 450-lb. dirtbike with bald tires. With traction close to zero, keeping up with the group took acute concentration and an abundance of caution. Luckily we were on mostly smooth fireroads.