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Old 10-08-2011, 08:24 AM   #1
Cpt. Ron OP
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Kings of the West Rally, 2011

The hard knock on the window snapped me out of my hazy slumber. I’m starting to sweat inside my van sitting in the sun in the parking lot of an elementary school while the radio is making its sweet sound. I blink while my eyes go through their full-zoom check and the world comes back into my conscience. Outside, my wife is laughing at me. I’ve been zonked out for an hour on the final leg of my journey home. And even though Peter’s team lost their soccer match, he did an excellent job as goalie in the second half. After the game, it was good to finally be home. What a change from the last week.




Six days ago as Baja Joe and I were carpooling to the non-event called the Kings of the West Rally, I was explaining my relief at getting out of the house with most of my required stuff in the van, even if it wasn’t fully packed correctly. My world just got smaller. Until that moment when the van left the driveway, there was family, work, the house etc. Now, it was just me, the bike, my overnight gear and my spares. Get to the rendezvous and ride. It should be easy to focus on something as mundane as that, right? Say hello to my little friend, Blastocystis Hominis. I won’t go into the details, just Google it. I was prescribed a 10-day run of Metronidazole just days before departure.




This is some nasty stuff and almost as bad as the bug it’s there to take care of. To say I wasn’t my jovial self is an understatement. I was very close to not attending, but decided that I was going to make the best of it and get my money’s worth. Lucky for me, I wasn’t wanting for anything during the event. Well maybe some oxygen and sleep, but that’s to be expected on the KOTW.

Under the influence of the bug, focusing on anything for any length of time is a chore, so bike prep was a labored process. Six days before departure, I discover a worn throttle cable. eBay and quick delivery got me the right part just days before departure.



I also discovered that one of the tank mounts disappeared during one of my few training runs at Prairie City. Thank you Uncle Doug, for the tools necessary to make a replacement in-house. Take note of the nail polish tips I got from Megan...



The Friday before departure I'm struggling with my Tubliss system, again. The rear is holding air fine, but the front isn't. I try two different setups, two different rims and two different tires, and all combinations thereof. No joy. I'll just run a heavy-duty tube instead. I did get pretty well practiced at tire changes, though.

The first night is typical, unloading, packing gear bags, greeting old friends and meeting new ones. And then there’s Wally. Within 30-minutes of commencing to talk shit, he’s backing his rig into my parked bike trying to knock it over. You know how those old guys are when it comes to mixing up the foot pedals… Hey, we made it this far. Now we just have to ride and eat our way across Nevada to Utah….and back.

Baja Joe and Jamin curious who the ringer on the Harley is...


Wally and Jeff oblivious to the arriving Jaeger-Meister rig...


Henrik and Baja Joe reminiscent about last year while Pucker DOES take note of the Jaeger-Meister rig...


Rob's response to Wally's request for secret details of the course....


Umm, Megan, about that nose hair....


The vicious Jean-Juc
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"I don't know what you do, but I know what I do, and I don't do that." --Uncle Doug, R.I.P.
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Cpt. Ron screwed with this post 10-08-2011 at 08:30 AM
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Old 10-08-2011, 08:29 AM   #2
sopascat
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What? I thought it was a myth...... you can't be telling me such an event actually took place?
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Old 10-08-2011, 09:18 AM   #3
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Capt Ron had a dream
sometimes they seem real
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Old 10-08-2011, 09:29 AM   #4
airborndad
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I thought this was next week
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Old 10-08-2011, 09:58 AM   #5
BootDragger
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Quote:
Originally Posted by airborndad View Post
I thought this was next week
It's true!.... This all happened next week.
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Old 10-08-2011, 10:36 AM   #6
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For full details on the event that will start next week along with more CGI rendered artist animations of what this event will look like when and if pictures are taken
http://advrider.com/forums/showthread.php?t=629979
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Old 10-08-2011, 11:19 PM   #7
mxbundy
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Day 1

Well, here is my belated ride report. Sorry but I do not have any pics, I am not Johnny on the spot with a camera.

As usual for us every time we are preparing for a riding trip, we were swamped with work.
Robert and I were out in the shop until midnight on Sat night.
Sun was up at 7am and over to Roberts to load his bike in the van and we are off. Arrived at the hotel at around 5:15, just in time to make the 5:30 meeting, only to hear that Rob was running late. Oh well, we just unloaded the bikes and make ourselves busy with some last minute nervous bike prep, and had a beer or 2 with some of the crew.
Had a great dinner at the Mex restaurant and went to bed with a nervous apprehension for the next days event.

Day 1

Up at 5 am and rush down with all of our crap to load in the trailer, unload the bikes and get ready to do this!!!!
Robert and I mull around and get in line for the start on the next to last row. Notice one of the guys is on a 950, make a fatal mental note that’s one guy we wont have to worry about. One by the one the rows take off and then it is our turn. We get the signal and were off, cept it is a slow race with the 25mph speed limits in all of these little towns. We finally work our way out of town and get to the turn off to the first dirt section. What a sight, the dust plums were stretched out for miles in front of us. Nothing to do but just put your head down and ride through it.

We started catching a few riders, snaked our way through, and then a clump of riders, which with a little finesse and a little luck I am through without, hopefully, ruffling any feathers.
Then the trail sorta disappears into a ravine. What a mess. First I encounter Baja Joe pointing the wrong way, I inquire if he is OK, I wait for a I am OK and I am off again. But just around the next corner I encounter Johnny5, stopped at the down tree, also pointed in my direction and Heinrick behind her trying to climb up out of the ravine. I quickly access the situation and floor it up out of the ravine myself.

I ride the ridge line for a while with one of the guys with the Dakar bikes (Aquavit?) until I pick up the track again and floor it the heck out of there.
Soon I am catching some dust, it is Robert and I pull right in behind him as we go by checkpoint 1.
So for the next few miles I just stay on Roberts six, he is clicking along quite nicely and it is a good pace.
But its not long until we head off road into a section of cross country riding, no trail, just blazing across the sage brush. I stalk Robert and make my move, only to promptly almost eat crap in a big wash that just appeared out of no where. This miscue let him back by until he got a little lost and I jumped at the chance and took off. All the while I was slowly catching the leaders dust, finally at a corner in which we turned about 180 degrees, I look across the way and see him, a rider on an orange bike. This is when I make the second fatal mistake of the day and say to myself, I GOT HIM! WRONG!

You see it is at this time the trail dumped us onto some really fast graded roads. At first the dust is really thick and the speeds are insane, so I lay back a little and let the dust clear a bit. But after a couple of miles I crest a hill and look ahead and there is simply no more dust! Frantically I look down at the GPS to see if I missed a turn, but no I am still on track. Wow the guy just checked out on me!
So I put my head down and go to work, but soon I look down and my pointer has turned WHITE! Damn it, I have missed a turn. I stop and zoom out, and out and out some more. It looks like I am about 2 miles off course, damn it again, so I flip a bitch and haul ass back to get on track.

Just as I am turning back on track, a rider is coming down the road and falls in behind me. I didn’t know it then, but rock104 and I would become ridding buddies for the rest of the event.
We are heading down this cool box canyon, with a lot of trees and greenery and gates. Finally I come out of the canyon and we are in a homestead. I run up and down and sure enough the track has me go through a gate and into an alfalfa field. I navigate around the edge of the field and out another gate. Just as I am closing the gate a lady comes out yelling at me about what the hell am I doing.
I say I am sorry and take off, but it wasn’t but a few miles when she gets her revenge on me.

I look down at the GPS and look back up just in time to see a big watermelon sized rock and I am headed right for it. No time but to gas it to try and get the front end up and hang on and pray.
WHAM! The bike shoots straight up, comes down crossed up and she does a couple of flops like a carp and straightens up! WOW, no soil sample, but my elation is short lived as I now notice a distinct vibration coming from the front wheel. I stop and look down. What I see astounds me. The front rim is bent, I mean REALLY BENT! It is pushed back in one spot about 2 or 3 inch's. I think my day is over, but I notice, unbelievably, that the tube is still holding air, even though you can almost see daylight all the way through the bent spot.

Well, I decide, might as well ride it until it either goes flat or comes apart, which ever comes first. But it never happened, I rode the better part of 200 miles with it like that. At the gas everyone was amazed it was still holding air. Rod and crew tell me I am about 20 minutes behind the leader and up about 10 minutes on the rider behind me, and Robert is out with a blown engine! Seems he had hit a rock and drained all the vital fluids out of the DRZ, damn that sucks!

So I make the decision to keep going, but I back it down and just ride to finish. The bike handled weird to say the least, it wasn’t too noticeable on the slower sections, but on the faster sections, it vibrated like crazy and made the front end wash out when leaned over on the hard slick turns.
But I had one little mishap left in me, at what turned out to be the last turn before the finish, I over cook a turn and go over the embankment. Right in front of the crew and Mathis with his video camera. Embarrassing to say the least, but I was elated to finally be done for the day. This was my personal record for longest day and miles on a bike.

But now I see who is in ahead of me, the dude on the 950! Of course, no wonder he smoked me on the fire roads. And now I have to eat my words about writing it and the rider off this morning. So I have to hand it to Scott (FORE!), he is the man on the 950!
Now get this, we look at the GPS and he had went at a max speed of 118!!!!!! Wholly sheep sheet!!!!!! My 530 could only manage 90 on a down hill! But that was the most FUN I HAVE HAD IN YEARS!!!!!!



Day 2 to follow ……….

Bundy
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mxbundy screwed with this post 10-09-2011 at 09:13 AM
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Old 10-09-2011, 01:02 AM   #8
Jean-Luc
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Two great narrators here

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Old 10-09-2011, 04:57 AM   #9
airborndad
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Location: Montclair Ca.
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To all riders
Please feel free to copy any of my pictures if you want to and insert them into your write ups to help tell your story's as you see fit
Or not

mxbundy's Rim




pretty impressive hit



airborndad screwed with this post 10-09-2011 at 05:04 AM
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Old 10-09-2011, 05:18 AM   #10
machalooney
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Joined: Nov 2009
Location: SMOKEY MOUNTAINS
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Quote:
Originally Posted by airborndad View Post
To all riders
Please feel free to copy any of my pictures if you want to and insert them into your write ups to help tell your story's as you see fit
Or not

mxbundy's Rim



Son of a motherless Goat!!!

Not sure if that one will buff out...
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Old 10-09-2011, 09:09 AM   #11
WallyWhirled
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So should the writeups from the KOTW page be posted here? If so, how?
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Old 10-09-2011, 09:21 AM   #12
WallyWhirled
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Following is a re-post from the KOTW page:

Just want to say, the people who made the ride, made the ride.

Everyone was awesome. Everyone. Every single person.

Thanks to all.

Made some great new friends. Got re-friended with the old friends.

I absolutely could not have completed the ride without significant help from a few of you. You know who you are.

Day 1 was a total clusterfish in the gully. At one point there were at least 4 or 5 bikes on the ground simultaneously. I zigged when I should have zagged. I should have known that all was not right when scheming Captain Ron led me astray through a cattle fence. From there on it was downhill. Many, many crashes, total exhaustion and wrong turns. After the first check point all was good except for the continued wrong and missed turns.

On Day 2 all was going well. Top speed for me was 90.1. That's as good as it got for the rest of the ride. I slid over the center mound of the two-track on a tightish right-hander, caught the rocks on the outside of the left rut and high-sided landing on my back on a rock at the side of the trail. Riders caught up and all stopped to render assistance. Got the bike up. There was a pool of oil on the trail. An oil fill plug was missing. The emergency trail-side repairs by Tim and the evil Captain Ron lasted the entire rest of the trip with no oil leaking at all from the stick-duct tape-and wire McGuiver repair. Tim also adjusted the settings on my GPS and now, for the first time ever, Track Up actually worked. This made making wrong turns almost a thing of the past. Still blew by turns but at least I could usually figure out whether to turn right or left.

We came upon Brian's crash site. It looked pretty ugly. Jeff was still there and he told us all about it. Jeff, Tim and I rode together for much of the rest of the day. My injuries didn't really start hurting until the rocky ups and downs with the sand wash and tree slalom thrown in. After that it was about all over for me. Then we hit the section of the trail at the top of the mountain that was blocked by all the wind-downed trees. It was hike-a-bike time for me and I could barely hold the bike up. Somehow managed to drag my tired, hurting ass along the rest of the course to the finish. No speeding in Utah for me this year took a long, long time to get to the finish.

Rest day was the best ever. Except I could not get out of bed without assistance. Bloody Marys ASAP in the morning along with serious medication allowed me to recuperate some. Fortunately the extent of bike work necessary for me on the rest day amounted to looking at my air filter and checking tire pressure. All was good.

Day 3 started very slowly for me in Utah. Remember, no speeding. Tim videoed me all the way down the mountain then began breaking every traffic law in the state as he left me in his dust. Next time I saw Tim his bald head was glistening with sweat in the sun at a ranch gate somewhere near Nevada. We soldiered on. Somehow managed to sneak past a few riders who had challenges, flat tires, got lost, bike issues, terrain too challenging, etc. The best part of the day was the loose, rocky, steep up/downhills some with more fallen trees to negotiate.

Finally the terrain was beginning to get more challenging and enjoyable for the first time since the beginning of Day 1. Except for the deep, crooked sand wash that I bailed on about 1/8 mile before the track exited. It only took me 5 extra miles to avoid 1/8 mile of sand. Stoopid me. Up, out of the wash on a steep loose climb, past a fork in the trail, stopped, turned around rode back to the fork in the trail, turned the other way up an even steeper, looser climb and down the treacherous other side to a washout that dropped right back into my dreaded sand wash. Screw this. Turn around again. Back Up the steeper previous descent and climb back to my fork in the road. This is my second U-turn to avoid the sand wash. Back up to where I first U-turned and onward. Then that trail dropped back into the sand wash yet again. Nice. Next time I try exiting the sand on the left and that road immediately made a turn in the opposite direction paralleling the sand wash in the wrong direction. Eventually a trail appeared going in the correct direction, depositing me on the pavement about 1/2 mile farther away from the checkpoint. Moral of story, you lose lots of time and make things much worse trying to make things tolerable for an injured body.

Day 4 I thought it would be impossible to continue for me. I had washed my jersey the night before so had no choice. You can't finish if you don't start so start I did. Very, very slowly. Megan and I started last and last I saw of her was when the pavement ended. Passed Jeff after he had a flat. It was pretty much game over for him at that point. Evidently he had some flat repair issues that cost too much time. Tim's dust appeared on the horizon. Then Tim appeared and disappeared, then re-appeared and disappeared in the opposite direction as I got trapped on the wrong side of a fence.

We approached checkpoint 1 where wicked Captain Ron was fixing a flat. There was some awesome whooped, sandy single track that led into a rock garden that was really cool. At the end, yet another incredibly beautiful vista opened up. The scenery was amazing in places. This was one such place but where was the trail? Oh, I see, over that cliff. Nice. I bounced and bashed my way down dislodging a boulder that Jean Luc had bumped into and knocked into the trail. The 600 pound boulder, 300 pound bike and I tag-team wrestled the rest of the way down that cliff.

On a long stretch of loose, straight road, mean Captain Ron passed me giving the ADV salute. The Beta didn't like that so upped the speed to 86+. It was really sketchy at that speed so had to let the horrible Captain Ron go. I saw his dust cloud in the distance but it took me about 5 minutes to reach that point. Lots of wide open spaces and there was no trail, only GPS tracks to follow. After jumping the River Stix I caught up to the dastardly Captain Ron again as he attempted to plug his yet again flat tire. "Now I have to pass you again", he said, shaking his fist. "Lots of luck, Fucker", was my witty reply.

The roads and pace open up. Somewhere up ahead is that little 250 of SteveO. I should be able to catch a 250. Jeff had taken pavement to checkpoint 2 and was now in front of me. Somewhere in one of about 150 never-ending sand washes, literally the longest sand washes I have ever been in, 10 to 12 miles or more for some of them, I caught up to Jeff and Dirk at about the same time. I had issues and they both passed me and I passed one of them and then there was Jeff stopped for Bobzilla whose bike had conveniently chosen this opportune moment to catch fire! All I had to extinguish the flames was gasoline so I continued onward.

Bob's bike came back to life and was evidently rather pissed off at mine as it bump-checked me into a lava rock in the sand wash. Eventually I was on my own again so that made it possible for me to charge right smack-damn into the lava cliff at the edge of the wash. At this point I'd lost count of the number of times I crashed. Probably 10 or more crashes on that day but I'm feeling very full of myself as I'd managed to somehow get ahead of a few folks.

Now where was that damned 250? Finally a loose, steep climb appeared. It didn't start loose and steep but got looser and steeper was we went. About the time it got really challenging I finally see the little blue 250 on the side of the trail with a very spent looking Steve standing beside. He gave me the all's OK so I headed onward up to the mines. At this point being flogged by Orcs and toiling in the mines had more appeal than continuing on the motorcycle. Sauruman was not at home so onward the journey went.

The only thought keeping me moving was that the cruel Captain Ron was hot on my trail. I couldn't let him pass me again. The final checkpoint appeared. Support helped me get a slpash of fuel so I could make it to the finish. Charge! I rode onward as fast as possible in the howling wind. Soon I was howling too. My cock and balls were on FIRE! With my clear-headed thinking I forgot to put my gas cap back on. To hell with my manhood. My only thoughts are that I hope I haven't lost too much fuel to make it to the finish and that cursed Captain Ron is surely breathing down my neck.

The wind is blowing so hard that my top speed is only about 50. With your head in the helmet so long you begin to start hearing things. My valves are clattering, surely my engine is conking. There's a low humming sound. It's the vengeful Captain Ron. No, it's only the strange sounds in my head. A few blown turns. My dust cloud will point the way making it easier for the omnipotent Captain Ron to follow the correct route. Faster, faster. More single track. Yes, this is definitely not swashbuckling Captain Ron's forte.

I push on. My front wheel pushes out. Conk. Right on my head. Probably the fastest get off for me of the entire trip. Things are fuzzy. Which bike should I ride? Which of the three trails should I follow. I pick the middle one. The other two never disappear so they must be halucinations. Will my fuel last till the finish? Will carpetbagging Captain Ron come blazing past me at the last moment? Will my balls ever be the same?

I cross the finish line and there are some very tired, very dirty people actually still there. We all have survival beers and cheer as the next, and final finisher of the day appears. It's SteveO on the mighty 250. Yay! And I have finally finished ahead of my nemesis, Captain Ron. Perhaps he was never really there at all....



Congrats and thanks to all who in any way had something to do with this dream KOTW that never happened.


Would like to add a very special, touching message: FUCK YOU, Rob.
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Old 10-09-2011, 08:01 PM   #13
Cpt. Ron OP
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Day 1, Part 1

Breakfast this morning sure beat the grub from last year. Gut bombs with caffeine.




And oh, by the way. In case you didn't know what this hose was for. Thank you Tonopah Ramada. I would be lost without you....




Can you feel the excitement?




Our hero maker, Jamin.




Pucker on Highway 6 on the way to the first leg.




Dust clouds up ahead indicate the entrance to the course. Game on!



Missing the second major turn in the dirt on day one isn’t the best way to start this thing. I was already falling for the thing that I swore I would not do…riding somebody elses’ ride. But nooooo, Pucker sucked me into missing the right turn up the gully after we dusted Wally on the first fast dirt section. At least Wally followed us through the gate. Wally, I’m sorry I forgot to pleasure myself on the gate before you got there. Maybe next time…As I turned east into the hills trying to get back on track, I almost launched over a steep embankment into a wash. On the other side of the wash, a handful of bikers who started behind me are already passing on the correct path. Crap. I bushwhack my way up the wash and back on course, with others breathing down my neck. One thing is for certain, this is nothing like last year. The course is a faint jeep trail, rocky with small trees scattered about. Lucky for us the temperature is quite cool. Perfect for second and third gear running like this. Just miss the rocks and trees and you’ll be just fine. Focus on the gps or the riders around you….well don’t do that.

Rob not only noted the fallen tree on the gps tracks, but he also reiterated it during the pre-ride. I take that to mean it’s something not to be trifled with. After getting back on course and into a semi-groove, I’m watching the gps for the upcoming tree. At the crest of the saddle just before said-bottleneck, I go offline a little bit uphill and to the left, leaving the previous tire tracks that drop precipitously down into the draw with the road block. As I pass about 20 yards above the blockage, I see a couple of bikes struggling to get through. I just have to meander through the trees and brush. Feeling a bit redeemed for my previous errors, I’m feeling the pressure again to maintain position. At one point I stop to orient myself and to find the right line through the scrub brush back to the intended course. It’s obvious we’re now going down a large wash/valley, but the actual track is faint and tough to see. Jamin is behind me looking to follow someone who knows where they’re going. Ummmm, good luck with that. In my enthusiasm to maintain my position (instead of focusing on time and energy), I get bucked off the bike in good fashion in the brush. Hopefully Jamin got a good shot of that one.

Back on the track, it becomes easier to follow the electronic breadcrumbs downhill to checkpoint 1 at the reststop. But I’m also starting to feel dry and tired, not to mention the steel-wool mouth thanks to the meds. No matter how much water I drink, it’s not enough to get rid of the nasty metal-mouth I’m getting now. My energy feels low, but I’m not hungry.

The next segment was relatively easy. If it’s all you rode that day, maybe even boring. For me, it was a nice relief. Catch your breath, drink some water and recover all while trying to make time and stay on course. The course continued north until a distinct right turn into the mountains. Here we go again another canyon.

Travis and I hung together for a little while through here before he took off. About the only pic I've seen of this guy NOT smiling:




But wait, this one isn’t so bad. It’s a fast road, and the fresh grader makes for easy running if you don’t hit a buried rock in the dust. Here is where Rob makes one of his sneaky course changes. The fast guys open it up and haul the mail, blasting past the turn in the middle of the sloping valley. Watching the gps, I see the course change come and make the turn as I see headlights coming back at me from going miles off-course. The track is back to narrow two track, barely used and rutted and rocky. I struggle with the fuel load and the bike just doesn’t want to turn. Two of those returning headlights quickly take me (one of them is Megan) as I struggle through the rocky/sandy canyon wash. I have to stop to reattach my luggage, but otherwise keep moving as the bike and I slowly get hotter and hotter.

We pop out on another smooth graded road and head north. The zig-zag in the course is reminiscent of my Google Earth pre-running. There’s some time to wick it up while eating and drinking. Oh yeah, stay on the course, too. We follow the mountains northward on the west side of a wide valley. Soon enough, we turn east for a few miles before turning north again without any real discernable trail. Fucking Rob….We’re blasting through the brush and sand, wallowing in sweat and dust.

This is just the beginning. Later, it takes too much energy to whip out the camera and snap some shots.




You get bumped off the course and force yourself through the sage before finding the course and tire tracks again. It seems every time I check the gps I wander into the giggle weeds. Only I’m not giggling. It’s getting hotter, and this is slow laborious riding. Not ideal for the BRP. But I continue to motor on, ‘cause to sit and whine about only makes it last longer. Here’s another section that Rob was sure to point out on the track, a ditch. I saw it coming on the gps and slowed down accordingly. Bobzilla didn’t. Lucky for him I was there to absorb a glancing blow to slow him down. It may have been quite ugly to hit that thing at any speed. Never thought I'd be thankful to be the slow lazy rider in somebody's way....



The sense of relief when you pop out on a “real” dirt road can’t be described. Most times when riding converted dirt bikes on stuff like this, you bitch and moan how non-challenging this stuff is. Not today. This is a temporary reprieve from Rob’s torture chambers of washes and gullies and cow pastures.



After eating and drinking some more (that damned metal taste just won’t disappear), we head north again and traverse Hot Creek Canyon and the accompanying homesteads. Gorgeous oasis with plenty of water.



And gates. You don’t think about how much energy you can dispense just getting off your bike, opening a gate and then remounting. Almost as bad as crashing. Almost. Roaring through this canyon, I’m slowing catching a dust cloud. First time in a long time for me today. Near the east end of the canyon, there is some confusion on the direction of the course. Megan and I discuss it a bit before I make an executive decision and work my way around the east end of a fenced pasture to meet the course track again.

I’m alone again for many miles as we cross another valley and pass into the mountains again. The last canyon dropping into the gas stop at Highway 6 was entertaining, if not tiring. Lots of signs of fast riding and burm shots, with occasional forays into the bush. Me, I just want to refill my hydration bladder. I’ve already gone through 3 liters and pissed about as much. Clear and copious man, that’s where it’s at. My snacking routine is working out OK, though the beef jerky and dried fruit doesn’t really satisfy the hunger grumbles. A granola bar at the gas stop will help. I catch Henrik and a good Samaritan who is giving him fuel. I let them go and quietly follow. A few miles later, I notice they miss the turn off of the road and into the desert again. C-ya! It’s a fairly easy run across rolling two-track down to the gas stop. Great opportunities for rolling wheelies. Where's Jamin when you need him?
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Cpt. Ron screwed with this post 10-10-2011 at 06:47 AM
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Old 10-09-2011, 08:50 PM   #14
bobzilla
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hey ron
I got video of that but dont know how to do it here
Jamin has it too so maybe we can see it
again sorry for the bump and thanks for the warning
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Old 10-09-2011, 09:11 PM   #15
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Quote:
Originally Posted by bobzilla View Post
hey ron
I got video of that but dont know how to do it here
Jamin has it too so maybe we can see it
again sorry for the bump and thanks for the warning
Hakuna matata, bro. I'm glad we were both able to ride away from that one.
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