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Old 08-03-2007, 01:51 AM   #1
robdogg OP
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Idaho - Gem of the Mountains ride

"caarrrracckk!"



I knew instantly what that sound was even though it was around twelve AM and just moments before I was blissfully
sawing a big ol pile of logs in my tent following a hot day of riding through 100+ degree temps up the Middle fork
of the Boise River. I instinctively crouched for a few seconds, but then sat up bolt straight in my Big Agnes
sleeping bag and froze while straining to hear every sound outside my woefully inadequate shelter - inadequate in
the sense that there was no way it would be a deterrent to a 180grain lead bullet fired from a high powered hunting
rifle that was surely a mere three feet from my head when it went off.

So began our adventure in to the land of the Nez Perce. We actually started the tour on Saturday, the day prior in
Walla Walla, WA (gosh I love saying that). Brent and I rode down the Skyline Road through the Umatilla Forest to
La Grande Oregon, then on up the Grande Ronde River to Sumpter; Baker City and finally to Boise to meet up with Jerry
who was returning from the Happy Trails Twin Peaks ride.

Our original plan was to ride down through Hells Canyon on the way to Boise but the roads had just been closed the day
before because of a couple of large forest fires; one to the North of the canyon, and one in the Seven Devils Mountains
on the eastern rim. As many as 100 separate forest fires were smoking up the sky in the Idaho mountains and fires would
be all along our route for the next seven days but thankfully for us none of them further detoured us from our intended
route.

When I first heard the shot, and after making sure I was not the intended target for whomever was out there hunting who
knows what in the middle of the night, I quickly put my shoes and shirt on and began to plan my escape route.. not so
much as to run off through the woods like a whimpering lass (which did cross my mind briefly) but I was actually
formulating a plan where I could slip down the bank next to the river just outside my tent, circle around behind the
serial killer lunatic type while he was reloading and preparing to stalk my camp mates and bear hug him till he dropped
his rifle.

While working out the details of my plan, about fifteen minutes passed and I began to believe I had imagined the whole
thing when all of a sudden "CRAACKKK!" .. a second shot rang out.. even closer.. maybe it just seemed that way since I
was definitely fully awake this time and such things have a tendency to seem closer then they are. In reality though, it
was probably around 100-150 feet away and they were probably shooting at something on the steep hill side across the river.

Earlier that afternoon, after riding for hours we came upon a dilapidated log tavern leaning against the trees on the
dusty forest road we had been riding. It seemed we stepped back in to a different time. Speed bumps and "slow down" signs,
dozens of miles from anywhere.. no electrical service (other then a generator). The outbuildings and other structures
were made from river rock and were literally 130 years old (so claimed the weathered sign along side the road) and not a
single Harely anywhere to be seen.. it was like something out of a Louis L’Aamour paperback. Don't get me wrong, I
applaud their efforts to keep a business running in such a remote setting, but it's just not something you see every day.


Twin Springs Tavern


Twin Springs Resort (directly across from the tavern)




We were seriously hot and tired so as uninviting as the place looked, it seemed like an oasis to us at the time. We
leaned our bikes up against the hitching post and stood listening for a few moments and once we determined there wasn't
any bar fights or pigs squeeling (flash backs from Deliverance, Porky's and Road House all came flooding to my mind at
once) ambled inside. Now I normally can’t stand any kind of domestic beer from a can, but on that day, I don’t think
anything could have tasted sweeter then those icey Coors lights. We didn’t stay long however as two of the three patrons,
and possibly the barkeep was pretty hammered and were getting a little too friendly with us. You know the type.. once
they find out your on a motorcycle adventure, they want to be your guide to show you some of the areas best fishing, or
invite you camp the night on their "spread" - the guy I was talking to offered both services.

After making our exit and dusting the dirt off our proverbial sandals and roosting their pickups (just kidding), we
soon found a spot down the road along the river with a big flat area just off the road. At one end of the campground
there was a family size tent pitched but with no people or vehicles in sight. We chose the area at the other end as
far from their site as we could in order to give them, and us some space. We quickly downed some grub and hit the
sleeping bags hard.



Soon however, our rooting-tooting gun happy neighbors showed up and announced their presence by blasting rock music
(and it wasn’t very good rock music either; I wouldn’t have minded so much if it was some Dead or Pink Floyd) out of
what must have been a 1,000 watt system. Thankfully though, for whatever reason, that didn’t last long and I soon fell
asleep until the first volley several hours later.

My buddy Brent who’s tent was closer to the road - and that was last time he camped that close to a road for the rest
of the trip - wasn’t as able to get as much sleep as me because his first rude awakening came when our camp neighbors had
a visitor who came barreling through our area right towards Brent’s tent with blinding lights and tires spewing gravel;
turning mere feet before flattening him and his tent to a pulp. I think Brent muttered something about finally getting
to meet our Sweet Lord Jesus face to face in those few seconds when he was sure he was going to not live to ride
another day.

Suffice to say, it did not take us long after sunrise to break camp and get on down the road after a night straight out
of a Steven King novel with the visit to the weird ghost tavern and the camp neighbors from hell. You know, come to think
of it, I never actually saw a single person over there. I heard em hooting and hollering a lot - but never did see em.
Sadly, in terms of storytelling, the rest of our trip was not nearly as gripping or dramatic, but that night we spent
alongside the Boise River was definitely one I’ll not quickly forget and it's the kind of story that makes adventuring
so entertaining. So sit back and enjoy the images and my recollection of some of the interesting history of the places
we saw.

Here's a few more to whet the appetite


High mountain meadows and wildflowers in Umatilla National Forest



Heading down the Skyline road






Near La Grande Oregon



Sumpter Valley Railway in Sumpter Oregon



Dam at Lucky Peak Lake; just east of Boise







MORE TO COME!
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Old 08-03-2007, 06:01 AM   #2
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Wow! Awesome ride, report and pics! Beautiful place to ride!! Thanks for posting
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Old 08-03-2007, 06:09 AM   #3
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you're a true storyteller.
It was such vivid I was able to see what u told us.
Fine report indeed !

/thierry

ps: shame on me but I laughed while reading. Mum always told me not to laugh when people stumble or show fear. I'm a freak.
ps2: u've a kinda Dean Kontz style. and take it as a compliment as I love his style very much.
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Old 08-03-2007, 08:07 AM   #4
Heath
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Quote:
Originally Posted by robdogg

Earlier that afternoon, after riding for hours we came upon a dilapidated log tavern on the dusty forest road we had been riding.. It was a trip.. speed bumps and “slow down” signs, dozens of miles from anywhere.. no electrical service (other then a generator). The outbuildings and other structures were made from river rock and were literally 130 years old (so claimed the weathered sign along side the road) and not a single Harely anywhere to be seen.. it was like something out of a Louis L’Aamour paperback.






Different kind of place, huh? I was in there with Ditchbanker back in March ~ It was Monday at about 10:30am. We both had a cup of coffee while the owner (who drove up in his truck with a beer in hand) and his wife had three cans of Bud Light each and talked about all the "conceptions" that had happened up there recently. All girls, apparently. "because of the hot water in the hotsprings" they said.

Haven't been in since... and I heed the "go slow" signs when I pass through.


Can't wait for the rest of the report
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Old 08-03-2007, 08:39 AM   #5
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Nice! Your storytelling style is very good, I was wanting more!
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Old 08-03-2007, 10:41 AM   #6
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indeed. I'm very much a fan of your style. Do keep posting, won't you?
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Old 08-03-2007, 11:09 AM   #7
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Why I prefer to camp deep in the woods

Yeah, that was an interesting night. Did I mention that the week before I happend to flip by the AMC channel and catch the part in Easy Rider where Jack Nicholson is killed while asleep in his sleeping bag?

Smeagol type conversation with myself at about 11:48PM:
"Could they be trying to kill ussssss?"
"No, surely not, they've probably been imbibing a little (lot?) and are just having some fun"
"Yeah, maybe thats why they didn't realize they needed to be closer to hit usssssss! Or maybe they shot Rob first before coming after usssss!"
"OK, listen for footsteps"
20 minutes later, almost ready to drift off.... BOOOM!
"They ARE trying to kill usssss!! They just shot Jerry!"
"No, that wasn't any closer, there just having some fun"
"Alright, but I'll just lie here and listen for a while...."
A half hour later, a 3rd gunshot! Still no hits.
"OK, their probably not trying to kill usssssssssssss"
" Yeah, but if their inebriated, what if they forget we're here and shoot this way?"
"Oh, shut up and go to sleep, they've missed evertime so far"

Then, about 2AM, this is what the car with the boomer stereo saw when he turned into the wrong entrance:


Well, except there was a guy in the tent with this deer in the headlights look of sheer panic staring back.

The next night we stayed in a campground filled with nice families from Utah, where WE were the suspect characters! I slept great that night.
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Old 08-03-2007, 11:34 AM   #8
fano
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Didn't I see you on Magruder pass last Saturday? I was going opposite direction -west on a Tiger.
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Old 08-03-2007, 02:51 PM   #9
BrentS
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Quote:
Originally Posted by fano
Didn't I see you on Magruder pass last Saturday? I was going opposite direction -west on a Tiger.
We were on our way to Pasco on Saturday after departing from the west end of the Lolo, headed for home. We rode the magruder earlier in the week and only saw a few 4x4's, I was surprised we didn't see any other bikes.
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Old 08-03-2007, 11:46 AM   #10
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Twin Springs Resort (directly across from the tavern)


I want to know if you saw a big-headed banjo-playing kid on the porch at this place?
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Old 08-03-2007, 02:21 PM   #11
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Laugh

Sweat report. I live in Boise and have never been to Twin Springs resort, but its on my list. I just got back from Alaska yesterday. I left Boise on 7/14 and returned on 8/2. I am still working on my report of the trip.
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Old 08-05-2007, 10:21 PM   #12
robdogg OP
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From Horse Creek Hot Springs to Red River Hot Springs

The day's route


After a totally refreshing afternoon in the hot springs and a good nights sleep, we hightailed it back to the forest roads
that would take us down in to the South West corner of Montana.. we were headed for Darby for fuel but we came
across a small store with a single pump - regular grade only which was fine with me as I had pulled the plug on the 950
so I could burn regular. After fueling up, we headed back the way we came for a few miles on the way to the
Magruder. We stopped at the West Fork Ranger Station for a good map and to find out if there were any road closures.
Assured that the road was open the whole way we dove on in to the longest unimproved road in America.

Frankly, the first third of the road; all the way up to Magruder Crossing is fairly blah!.. and you go from pavement to
dirt, to pavement again for quite a while.. nice country and all.. and we were glad to be riding it, but there wasn't much
stopping for photos or fun side routes.

I won't bore you with the obligatory photo of the Nez Perce Pass sign, or the Magruder Massacre sign, but to me, aside
from the amazing scenic beauty of the area we were riding through, I love the sense of history that you feel when riding
a road that hasn't changed a whole lot since the Nez Perce walked and rode over a couple of centuries ago or longer
(even if the present day road does not exactly trace the Nez Perce trail). The road cuts a swath between wilderness areas
nearly twice as large as the combined states of Delaware and Rhode Island. To the north is the 1.2 million acre
Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness and to the south the 2.2 million acre Frank Church-River of No Return Wilderness. I've
read that these areas comprise over 11% of the Congressionally established wilderness area in the 48 contiguous states.
You would be hard pressed to find a wilder, more unspoiled riding experience in the lower 48.

Our first big side trip was just a few miles in to a place called Hells Half Acre. There's a creek and a mountain both going
by that interesting name. The road up was fun.. pretty smooth and easy going most of the way. At a quarter mile from the
top, we found a gate with a sign that informed us we had to walk the rest of the way. That was a fun hike.. NOT! but it
was worth it at the top.. we brought our lunches with us and had a nice visit with the Forest Service crew that was on
lookut duties.

Jerry hanging out with the fire watch lady.



Could you live here for a month?



I think I could



Jerry probably could too



Choco the fire watch dog



Probably the worlds best view from an outhouse



After our lunch we stumbled back down the hill to our napping steeds, and continued west to Magruder's Crossing.
We stopped at the Magruder Guard Station which was the coolest little Forest Service ranch in the middle of a
small pleasent valley. Travellers on this road before mechanized vehicles must of thought this an oasis.

Magruder Guard Station



Riding through forests of burnt trees



Magruder Massacre sign



OK, I said I wasn't going to show this picture.. every ride report on Magruder shows the same one.. but in our case,
we did try to find about a little more about the event and who this Lloyd Magruder was, and why was he killed. We
even went up a little side road to try and get to the actual site of his massacre, but we discovered it was a few miles
up some hiking trail and I for one was pretty bushed from the earlier hike up to Hells Half Acre.

Anyway, the man called Magruder was apparently a pretty big business type in these parts back about 150 years ago.
One of the uses for the trail we were following back then was to... ah heck.. here's some info out of a Forest Service
brochure

"Gold was discovered near Pierce, Idaho, in 1861 and near Bannack, Montana, in 1862. Many miners and traders
used the Southern Nez Perce Trail as the most direct route from Elk City, Idaho, to Bannack or Virginia City, Montana.

In 1863 Lloyd Magruder and companions were returning along this route from Virginia City after making a handsome
profit of gold dust from selling supplies to miners. Four other travelers joined the Magruder group. A few days later, the
travelers attacked, murdered and robbed Magruder and his companions in the dark of the night. The murderers burned
and buried the evidence of their crime and fled to San Francisco with their stolen booty. Hill Beachy, Magruder’s friend,
pursued the murderers and brought them back to stand trial in Lewiston, Idaho. The trial resulted in the first legal hanging
in the Idaho Territory.

Lloyd Magruder had been a successful California merchant. He was a well respected man and had many friends. Prior
to his illfated trip, he had agreed to represent the Idaho Territory in Congress. As a result of this event, many places bear
the name “Magruder"


I found it pretty impressive that Magruders loyal friend was able to travel all the way down to San Francisco, find the
bandits, then bring them back to receive justice. What a story.

From this point, the Magruder road got a lot more fun. No more wide, smooth gravel, but more like the stuff we came all
this way to ride. Not terribly challenging, even on a fully laden beast like the 950, but it was sure more interesting. We
were now really beginning to see more fire activity as well. Most were quite small and far away, but it helped keep things in
perspective.




Jerry zoomed in on this one.. it was the largest fire we saw out there..






Our next side trip destination was Burnt Knob. From the descriptions, "From Poet Creek Campground, the road climbs
steeply for eight miles with a few sharp curves.Burnt Knob #468-C branches off to the north. This road is recommended for
4-wheel-drive only and ends at Burnt Knob Lookout."


It sounded like our kind of road.






untill....







Thats about the third time I've knocked a bag off.. first time on this trip though.. and luckily it didn't totally break the
latch.. just the lock.


The views from the top though.. made it all worthwhile









We counted about eight distinct fires from our lookout. Riding down was fun.. just need to watch some of those
basketball sized rocks.







After coming down of Burnt Knob and getting back on the Magruder, we didn't do a lot more stopping and gawking
as we wanted to get to our stop for the night at Red River Hot Springs.

Red River Hot Springs was another one of the spots we wanted to hit. It’s on the Western end of the Magruder; and
it was also up and back on a one way road. It’s about
30 miles from the nearest town. Just a few miles before the resort, we rode by a campground filled with RV’s and
dirt bikes. Apparently a large group of Idaho trail riders were having their annual rally. There were quite a few dirt bikes
in front of the hot springs lodge when we pulled up so we were lucky to get the last remaining cabin as it looked
like the area campgrounds were all filled up.




We lucked out though as they had one cabin left and we grabbed it. It was quite the rustic cabin.. tiny with a couple
of folding double bed cots and a gas lantern on the wall.. no electricity or running water although there was fresh spring
water in a tap out back - complete with a large metal tub.




The lodge had a large pool in the back that was filled by spring water.. both hot and cold and the temps were just
right. The hot tub was pure hot so I stayed away from it and just enjoyed soaking in the pool, talking about the days
ride and chatting with a few local folks that were visiting the hot springs for the night like we were.




While I was out front getting my gear unloaded, a couple of guys come up to me and one asked me about my
windshield.. after a few moments it was clear he was a fellow 950 rider so we continued to chat, then like normally
happens, we make introductions after chatting for a few minutes.. and it turned out the fellow 950 owner was none
other then Chuck Sun.. who is a very well known racer back near home and he won something like five national MX
titles back in the early 80's. His companion was Charlie Williams editor and writer for Trail Rider Magazine.. I was
pretty stoked as Chuck is kind of a local hero back in the Seattle/Portland area and seems to be a pretty nice guy too.

Glad I met them and wish I had more time to chat with them.. but they were there for the rally so maybe some other time.

welp, thats it for tonight.. check back tomorrow for the last section; and the best roads of the ride.. Falls Creek Rd,
Selway River Road and the Lolo
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Old 08-07-2007, 10:50 PM   #13
robdogg OP
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From Red River Hot Springs to Lolo Motorway

The day's route


somewhere North of Elk City, I decided that it was just such a glorious morning, that I wanted to listen to some tunes
on my iPod. I usually don't listen to tunes when riding dirt as I like to hear the booming sound of the big twin and
it's a bit of a hassle with frequent photo stops and what not. But this morning was kind of special. We had gotten
up and on the road pretty early today, since we slept in the cabin and didn't have to break camp. We also skipped
breakfast before riding because we were hungering for some real stick to your ribs kind of food down the road
about 30 miles in Elk City.

The best breakfast in a cafe located in a gas station I ever ate!



It only took me about two seconds though to realize that I had left my iPod in the cabin back at the hot springs.. I
had a few choice words for my numskull self, and then we chatted options for a bit. At first I was trying to
rationalize not going back and for continuing on ahead with our route for the day, leaving it for the maid.
I was slightly hoping to have an excuse to get a new 60gb model, but then the guys talked me out of it. At first,
Jerry offered to ride back and get it (what a GUY!) He was thinking it would be better on fuel economy, but I was
thinking I need to be the one as I was considering time economy. I knew I could make it there and back lot faster since
I had a 950/he had a 650 - he's a elder at church and a retired law man/and I'm just a deacon and well... nuff
said. We quickly rode back to Elk City, unloaded my bike to reduce drag and I flew there and back; riding 64 miles
round trip in about 78 minutes and at least half of the distance was on dirt and the other half was twisty paved road
\along the Red River. I'd hate to say that I enjoyed it, cuz I was sorry to make my pals wait by the side of the road
for an hour, but I'd be lying and it sure felt good to feed the primal need-for-speed urge and to get some where fast
like you had a purpose and I couldn't think of a better bike to have done it on.

Plus, on the way back I was able to stop and take some photos - so yeah, about 4 minutes of that 78 was me stopping and
taking photos

Fire helicopters


Leaving Elk City, for the second time, we quickly made tracks in to the mountains North of town on our way up,
over and down to the Selway River. This is about the third big multi-day adventure I have planned or been part of
planning, and if there's one thing I've learned, is that when calculating routes for an adventures like this, the best
road is not always the most obvious. Up to this point, we had not really deviated from our course much, as the best
roads so far, did happen to be the ones we originally charted, but then when coming upon a Y intersection in the road, and
seeing that the road to the right is the one that is plotted on the GPS, and is going to the place you want to get to, but
the path to the left, has a sign on it saying "snowmobile trail" and after checking it out on the GPS, it kind of "looks"
like it joins back up to roads that will lead us to our destination.. then the question doesn't become "should we take it?"
but "hmm, I wonder if we can ride this thing twice?" Alas, we took no photos of the trail, but it was a very fun - smooth,
with banked turns, some rocks and bumps to bounce off of, ATV width type of trail that ran for about 10 miles through the
mountains.

Water crossing.. this was the only water crossing on the entire ride


After riding the snowmobile trail, we had to track to the East for a while though to get back to the road we needed - Forest
Road 443 or Falls Point Road. This was another little gem of a road that we were sort of lucky to find. I had actually read
about this road in a ride report here a couple of weeks prior to our trip. And I sort of knew it was in the area, but I wasn't
quite sure if was on our route as I couldn't recall where the other ride had ended up on the Selway; as there are a few nice
routes heading out of Elk City - the Elk City Wagon rd being a popular one as well, but that heads more westerly. This is the
kind of road we need lots more of. One where the forest service just kind of gives up maintaining as a higher classification
road and lets it degenerate to one only suitable for motorcycles and atv's. They were even kind enough to keep it fairly clear
of fallen trees. I sure gotta hand to the forest managers there. I bet they ride

Rd 443 (restricted part)


Jerry


















Crossing the Selway


We made our lunch stop on the top of Selway Falls. The breeze running through the canyon and the cool mist rising from the water
sure felt good after a hot morning ride. But we were getting close to the Lolo, so after lunch, and a quick stop at the ranger
station for a good forest map, we were finally off in search of the Lolo

Jerry just being Jerry.. a true, happy to be alive kind of guy


Rob shooting Jerry shooting Brent


Lunch of champions


Stunning pic of the river by Brent



The fabulous Selway River


Demolition dual sport derby?


That's one way to try and stay cool I guess


After refueling at Lowell on highway 12.. which by the way, for you non-northwest types, is one of the must do paved roads in
all the northwest.. you'll get sore wrists and arms from all the clutching and throttle twisting along it's 70+ miles of snake
like winding road. From hwy 12, we had a few miles of typical switch back filled gravel forest service road to get to the Lolo,
but along the way, we got a lesson in cultural diversity and the Golden Rule.

Three city boys help some country folk
It was one of those experiences that make you think there is a grander purpose to things.. call it fate, divine intervention.. (my
personal favorite) or blind luck, but as I was riding blissfully along, I came around a corner and saw a smallish SUV driving along at a
slow pace oblivious to my presence. As I pulled out to the left a bit to over take it, I noticed the rear tire was very flat
and looking like it was going to fall of the rim at any time. I pulled up alongside and noticed a senior citizen driver (who was
honking at me??) and what I thought were young kids in the back seat banging on the windows. The driver side window was open and the
driver looked right at me, but neither did she say anything, nor made a move to give me room to pass or slow to a stop which you might
expect someone in distress, needing assistance to do.

During the next few minutes as I rode along, my mind was trying to make sense of what I had just seen and I slowly came up with a list
of several puzzling questions.

1. why in the world was this car driving up hill with a flat tire, obviously away from any sort of help or civilization? and with what
looked like a perfectly good spare tire on the rear hatch.
2. why did the old lady and her passengers look and act all ticked off at me?
3. where were my two riding pals.. why had they not stopped them or stopped and waited for me? (were they shot and left for dead some
where back in the bushes?)

I quickly found out the answer to number three when coming to an intersection a few miles ahead. Each of them had a similar experience
and sense of bewilderment when coming upon the car, but we quickly agreed that we should go back and find out what the story was..
and besides, there's safety in numbers right?

As soon as I got within shouting distance, granny was yelling something out the window at me. When I killed the motor, I could then
make out that she was trying to ask me if I had cell service.. from that point on, I don't think granny stopped yammering once the
whole time we were there and she was barely coherent. We soon figured out though, that while they did in fact have a good spare,
and a scissors type jack, the person that sold them the car, or the tire.. or there gas.. or someone had failed to give them the little
cranking handle that goes in the end of those types of jacks.. all they had was a standard J shaped lug wrench which was too long to get
in to the end of the jack horizontally and be able to crank it up. So I grabbed a socket extension from my tool kit and in a few minutes
had the wheel up off the ground, Brent had the lugs off, and Jerry had the spare ready.. we put it all back together, gave them gentle,
but firm advice to head DOWN the hill towards home and then we went about our business. The kids turned out to be a full grown, middle
age son and daughter.. which really is what made me thankful that we had returned, because if changing the tire out was too complicated
for them, I could not imagine how they might have fared that far out in the wilderness had there car become undriveable and no one showed
up for days.. which was quite possible.. just like poor James Kim in South West Oregon last year.



Another axiom I have for long adventure rides, is to go by your gut feeling when it comes to a certain destination.
Because of my early morning farting around re-finding my iPod, and a somewhat leisurely pace for the rest of the day, we were
still quite a ways from the place I wanted to camp on the Lolo. The Lolo has quite a few great spots for camping; some right on the
road, some a little ways up a road or trail, but there is only one designated camp ground on the entire trail, and from ride reports,
and the advice from a friend, I knew this one camp ground was special. My riding pals were getting tired and wanting to stop, but I
kept pushing them, knowing, (hoping) that it would be worth it. Rocky Ridge Campground is on Rocky Ridge Lake (just below Rocky Ridge
ridge). I was mostly interested in staying there because it's common to see moose feeding in the lake side grasses and they often
walk right through your camp to get there. In fact, the granny lady we helped with the tire, heard where we were headed and asked
if we were packing pistols to scare off the moose (and robbers!).

Sadly, during the two days we spent there we never saw any moose (or robbers) but I could not remember staying in such a serene,
tranquil place - at least not one that you can drive right up to. Jerry liked it so much that he convinced us the next morning to let him
stay by the lake all day and relax, while me and Brent explored the rest of the Lolo. We said we would miss his company on the ride,
but if that was what was felt right for him, then it would be OK with us and all the more fun since we could then ride the trail without
all our gear bucking around on the back seat.

So, rather then ramble on trying to add more verbal fluff to our story, I'll conclude my report with some fine pictures of the Lolo, and express
my gratitude to God for making the beautiful places we rode through, my riding companions for putting up with my crazy schedule demands
and millage goals, and for friends and strangers here on this list who shared their own adventures which inspired us to strike out on and
create one of our own.

Rocky Ridge Lake CG


The lake






Dusk on the lake






Jerry relaxing



While we ride the rest of the Lolo






Castle Butte












Brent on Devil's Chair


Brent trying to get off Devil's Chair









Other dual sporters on the trail (the ONLY ones we saw the entire trip except for some dirt bikes near Red River)


Saying goodbye to the Lolo



Till the next one!
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robdogg screwed with this post 08-07-2007 at 11:04 PM
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Old 08-08-2007, 11:50 PM   #14
Timmer
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VERY NICE!!

Tim
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Old 08-09-2007, 01:26 PM   #15
BrentS
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In addition to the fantastic scenery, the people we met on this trip were great. The folks in the gas stations were always happy to provide information about roads, food, next availble fuel, weather, local gossip, whatever. At the Red River HS we met a gentleman and his adult son who were driving the Magruder and then the Lolo in the reverse direction from us in their pickup. We met them again on the lolo trail and had a short conversion. They also stopped in to say hello to Jerry, who had stayed behind at the campsite.

While waiting for Rob to retrieve his ipod, we met another father and son team from Oklahoma sight seeing in the area via airplane. They were also motorcyclists, so we swapped storys with them for a half hour.

Even the waitress at the Lochsa lodge was very friendly when we stopped for a burger and cold drinks- covered in dust and I'm sure smelling like animals from the woods. She said we were nothing compared to the hunters!

On the way home, we had a flat just outside of Pasco and were looking for shade near an agribusiness maintenance shop. The owner asked what we were up to, then proceeded to open up his service shop and allow us to use it to change the tube. What a great guy!


Definitley good people in Idaho!
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