The Long and Winding Road.

Lately I've been slacking in my "blogging" duties. I've ridden no less than 4 rides since my last entry and I just haven't been able to get off, (or is it 'on'?) my butt and get it done. So I've decided that this may not be as thorough as I might like, but I'm going to get the blog up to date with my latest rides.

Ride #1: aka: "The Marty Iron Butt" or "The Marathon Marty 185".

This ride took place at the end of May and I'm a little fuzzy on many of the details but one thing I can remember is that it was a LONG ride. We spent most of the 185 miles on pavement. It wasn't planned that way, it just happened to end up that way. There was still snow on the FS roads that wouldn't let us get over the pass so we had to alter our plans.

Marty rallying the troops.

Unloading and getting ready to go.

We started in Bonney Lake and ultimately ended up in Packwood for lunch. We took the Skate Creek Rd from the Ashton area over to Packwood. It was an enjoyable ride with some nice scenery. After fueling up both the bikes and our bodies, we headed back over the Skate Creek Rd and made our way finally back to Bonney Lake. I could tell everyone was getting a case of the "monkey-ass" toward the end of the ride because at one point, every rider was riding standing up at the same time to get the blood flowing again.

Overall it was a fun ride. Good people and good weather made for a great day.

Chuck's passenger screamed almost the entire trip.

One of our rest stops.

The snow field that forced us to turn around.




On the Skate Creek Rd.

A few stats:

Miles ridden: 185

Riders: 8

Alcohol consumed (by me): 2 beers (after the ride.)

Gimme Shelton

After the Vantage ride a week or so ago, I had come to the conclusion that while I enjoy the challenges of enduro competition, I am much more suited to riding just for fun. Last Sunday, May 24th, I was fortunate enough to be invited to join a small group of riders for a "scouting ride" that started and ended near the Sanderson Airport in Shelton, WA.

There were 10 riders total and as I was getting my gear on, some introductions were made.

Here is the "cast of characters" as I saw it from my point of view:

Lan: Organizer and ride leader (very cool KTM LC4)
Sylvia: Lan's "better half" and co-leader (Yamaha XT 350, "old school" kick start version)
Bill: Veteran trail rider and one of the few people who actually knew where the hell we were (KLR 650 "couch")
Marty: The strong, silent type (DR 650 blue)
Cheryl: The fun one (DR 650 yeller)
Chuck: Possible undercover spy (DRZ 400... looked shiny and relatively new)
Jim: Chuck's brother and resident videographer (possibly a spy also... by association) (XT 250)
John: Possible MacGyver (DRZ400 with good-looking, homemade parts and a carb off of a Kawasaki)
Dan: aka: Dr Dan. The laid-back, just enjoyin' the scenery type. (DRZ 400 low-rider)
Me: The group newbie

Let me start off by saying that everyone who was there was, by far, the nicest people I'd met in a long time. It was a great group of folks who just wanted to have a good time. No egos, no BS, just a bunch of great people to be around

As we were getting ready, I started to sense that this wasn't going to be the kind of trail ride I thought it was going to be. For some reason, I thought we were going to be riding more single track and wooded trails, and consequently, didn't really prepare for riding on the street much (ie: no mirrors or warm clothing). I even heard someone mention the possibility of snow preventing us from making it over the hill. (snow!!! wtf??) I decided that I'd just have to tough it out and not be a weanie. I did bring a sweatshirt so I put it on underneath my jersey and hoped it'd be enough.

We headed out on hwy 101 and made a quick stop for fuel. Within' a few minutes we were on a gravel road and kicking up some dust. (Actually, LOTS of dust. In fact, that's what I had for lunch.) The pace was pleasant and we made a few stops on occasion to make sure everyone was keeping up.

After about 20 miles or so, we found ourselves on a high steel bridge. I'm just guessing but I'll bet it was 500-600 feet to the river below. We stopped and took a few pictures and just shot the breeze. The view was stunning.

The view from the bridge

We jumped back on the bikes and headed on down the road. There was a brief section of pavement and then we were headed up the hill on a gravel, Forest Service road. We took a break at around 2500' MSL (Mean Sea Level) and had another opportunity to take in the view. It was very relaxing to me to just stand on the edge of the road and look out over the valley below. The valley stretched out for miles.

Looking out over the valley

The plan was then to keep heading up the road and over the other side and make our way to Lake Wynoochee. As we climbed higher though, we started seeing patches of snow on the ground. I really didn't think much of it, I thought that it'd be unlikely that there would be enough snow to keep us from making it over. As is often the case, I was wrong. We rounded a corner and were faced with the entire road covered in snow that was roughly a foot deep. It wouldn't have been too bad had it not been for the fact that it was the consistency of a carnival snow cone. It felt like trying to ride through wet cement. Needless to say, we turned around and headed back down the hill. Lan knew of an alternate route that would take us along most of the planned course but allow us to bypass the snowy part.

The snow field

I apparently felt the need to go check it out. (Photo by Lan)

On the way back down the hill, I decided to shut the bike off and just coast down the hill. Sure, you lose the ability to use the engine compression to help slow you down, but it was so peaceful just to glide down the hill with no noise. During the descent, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something that made no sense to me. I stopped and turned around and, (after starting the bike up), headed back uphill to confirm what I saw. Sure enough, there were a pair of crutches lying on the side of the road. I can't think of any reason why they would be there. Maybe somebody was planning on one of us needing them? I don't know, but I thought it was strange.

I did not move the crutches, that's how I found them

Once we got on the alternate route, we were doing pretty well. There were a few small trees that had fallen across the road and we had to ride over them. I thought it was fun. Then we came upon a tree that couldn't be moved or ridden over. After looking at the situation for a minute or so, the only option was to head back down again and try another way.

The tree blockade

It was starting to get fairly late and we decided to not try to make it to Lake Wynoochee since it would just take too long at this point. Had we not had to back-track so much, it would've been fine. So we headed down the hill again and found our way out on to some pavement that would lead us to Matlock and ultimately back to Shelton. My fuel reserve light came on in Matlock so I decided to put the extra gallon I had with me in the tank. I could've made it the last 16 miles without it but I figured why not err on the side of caution.

We made it back to Shelton around 6:30. We all loaded up and after enjoying a few cold ones, we all headed home.

I enjoyed the 105 mile ride immensely. The people in the group made it fun. There was no sense of being hurried or having to prove anything to anyone. We all just rode and had fun. I'm hoping I get invited to the next ride.

One of the many rocky roads we traveled. (Photo by Lan)

One of our rest stops.

This is Marty and Chuck wrestling a tree. I think the tree won.

Dr. Dan and Bill... it appears they shopped at the same riding gear store.

"ok, so we're here... and we want to go here".

Toward the end of our day's journey. (Photo by Lan)

Our fearless leader, Lan

The group on the steel bridge

Some graffitti... damn griptwister punks :)

One of the challenges we had to face

Loaded up and re-hashing the ride. (Photo by Lan)

Add Vantage...

...to the list of places I've ridden.

The other day my friend Dan, (that's Dr. Dan to you), asked me if I wanted to go over to Vantage, WA to ride the "Green Dot" trails with him and his friend James. I hadn't been on the bike since the 2009 Sparkplug so I thought it was a great idea and said, "sure".

The day before the ride, I pulled the WR out to do a little repair work on it since it had a few dings from the Sparkplug event. My Dad just happened to be in town visiting so together we straightened a few things, (foot peg, shifter, etc...), and re-atached the handguards that had somehow come loose. We got it all up to snuff and loaded it on the trailer so it'd be ready for the early morning drive.

4am sunday: I drag my butt out of bed and am on the road by 4:45. I get to Dan's place a little after 6am and we are quickly back on the road after loading his bike and gear.

We made it to Vantage by about 9am or so and meet up with James and his brother, Tim. James and Tim had camped in Vantage the previous night because they had attended the Allman Brothers, Doobie Brothers ,(they may not be related but they do be brothers), and Grateful Dead concert the night before at the Gorge Amphitheater in George, WA. (Seems like an awful lot of brothers to me).

We make our way to the staging area and start unloading all our stuff. The discussion turned to our planned ride of 120 miles. James, (who is a guide for motorcycle tours in Baja, Mexico), and Tim, (who is an extremely good rider), both balked a little at riding the full 120 miles. (You may wonder why two riders of their caliber were not excited about riding that far. Remember, they were at the "Dead" concert until nearly 1am... need I say more?) I was secretly relieved at this decision as I wasn't sure if I was feeling up to a full 120 miles. I was more interested in riding at a relaxed pace to be able to enjoy the scenery, etc... We ultimately decided that we'd just ride until we were ready to stop and how ever far that was would be good.

Unloading at the staging area

We got going and I immediately felt a bit tentative on the bike. The ass-end of the bike was squishing around all over the place and it felt a little like riding on a marshmallow, (at least I think that's what it felt like). I remembered to pump the tires back up to a "normal" pressure so it wasn't that. I guess I just had to get used to it.

If I had to assign an animal to represent the ride, I would use a squirrel named Lee... because the ride was very "Squirrelly". And when it wasn't "squirrelly", it was rocky.

(Yes, I know that was a stretch, but sometimes obscure references are fun)

"And now, here's something we hope you'll really like. "

We rode for a few miles and when we stopped we talked a bit. I asked the more seasoned desert riders James and Tim if it was normal for the bike to sashay all over the place like that. They said 'yep'. They also added that it'll settle down once you get used to it and can anticipate the terrain ahead better. It did... and I was happy.

There were many nice views during the ride above the Columbia

After about 35 miles or so, we took a lunch break down by the river. It was nice to splash some of the cold river water on our heads since the temperature was nearing 90.

James enjoying the refreshing river water on his melon.

We had been riding at a fairly brisk pace, but not too crazy. I made a concious effort to take it easy through some of the really rocky areas because those rocks can jump out and bite you in a hurry. I was fortunate to be able to navigate my way through the rough patches without dumping it. A crash on those rocks at the speeds we were traveling could be very painful.

I wonder if it wouldn't have been so windy if they had turned these fans off?

We started to get into more of an alpine area where it was less desert and more trees, etc... It was really enjoyable. It reminded me a lot of riding as a kid up in the Cascade foothills with my brother and friends.

Tim had the worst luck of the 4 of us considering the mud pit incident and the bee sting. The picture below is Tim trying to show the bee sting on his forehead.

Just before we got into the alpine area, however, there was a relatively small mud patch. It looked harmless enough and actually seemed really out of place. There hadn't been a patch of water or mud anywhere during the ride other than the river bank. So to see this mud patch in the middle of this desert trail was kind of weird. Tim, the most aggressive rider of our group, thought it would be fun to blast through it. He somehow didn't see a fairly good sized rock just before the mud and managed to clip it with his front tire. This small piece of bad luck sent him flying over the handlebars and directly into the middle of the mud patch. If my Dad were to explain the action, he would probably use the phrase "Ass over tea-kettle".

Here is the first picture I could get of Tim's mud pit incident. The rock that helped create this scene is partially pictured below in the lower left-hand corner.

Another shot of Tim's landing spot

James returns to see what happened

Dan and I offer up a very respectful "golf-clap" for Tim

James was riding in front so he didn't see his brother's maneuver. Tim was second in line and Dan was right behind him. I pulled up just after the incident and noticed that Tim looked ok and Dan was already off his bike to offer assistance. I decided that the only thing I could do to 'help' would be to document the event with a few photos. I grabbed the camera quickly and snapped a few shots. I was too late to get a photo of Tim actually lying in the mud but I managed to get off a few shots before they got the bike out. James quickly realized no-one was following him so he turned around to see what happened. We all had a good laugh since Tim wasn't hurt and nothing major on the bike was broken.

We made our way down the hill and passed by a few cabins along the way. There were a few odd looking folk sitting on the porch at one place and I'm pretty sure I heard a banjo playing as I went by.

Enjoying a cool one after the ride.

By the time we got back to the trucks, we had traveled a shade under 70 miles. It wasn't a gruelling journey like the 120 miles might have been, but that's what made it even more fun, at least for me. I really enjoyed riding along at a reasonable pace and enjoying the sights and sounds of the area. James, Tim and Dan are all excellent riders and it was a bit of a challenge to keep up with them at times, but overall we had a great ride and I'm looking forward to the next ride in the desert.

Sparkplug Redux

Sparkplug 2009

It has been just over a year since my re-entry into the dirt bike/trail riding world and much has changed. You may remember my story of how I attempted my very first enduro event last year at the 2008 Sparkplug Enduro, and how I bit off a lot more than I could chew. It was an eye opening experience to say the least. My goals were as follows:


1. finish the 55 mile short course
2. try not to hour out
3. stay injury free


If you count being severely humbled as an injury, I left that event 0 for 3.


During the months following the event, due to my work schedule I basically was able to only ride a handful of times. Including "poker-runs" and just a few fun rides. I did, however, attempt and complete the 2008 Black Bear Enduro in November and felt much better about my riding. I was able to finish the ride and actually finished 4th out of 9 riders in my group.



So the new year comes around and I've been out riding in the winter weather exactly 2 times since the Black Bear, when I noticed the 2009 Sparkplug event was being held March 29th. I started to get a nervous twitch in my left eye just recalling the last time I attempted that treacherous event. But after a few seconds, I decided that I needed to "get back on the horse" and see if I could conquer it.

My WR before the ride

The day before the event, the weather was so nasty with a rain/snow mix that fell all day long that I briefly considered not going. I remembered how soaking wet I was after the '08 "plug" that I was not looking forward to another ride feeling like a soggy sponge all day. But I then told myself that I had to go no matter what, even if it destroyed me.


The morning of the ride, I left my house in Gig Harbor about 6:30 and made my way north to Tahuya. The sky looked clear as I drove and I thought it might be a nice day for a ride after all. I made it to the staging area about 7:30 and unsuccessfully attempted to find a parking spot. If there were any no-shows to the event due to weather, the busy parking lot sure didn't reflect it. I ended up having to park down the road a mile or so and after getting everything unloaded, I awkwardly carry my gas can to the gas trailer on the back of my bike and waited in line to register. I signed up for the Senior C class which is supposed to be novice level riders that are between 40 and 49 years old, (by the way, since when is 40 considered a "Senior"? Do I get a AARP discount?). I asked to be put on the latest minute possible and was given 9:58. I know for a fact that there were later minutes available but I decided not to say anything as I decided that it wasn't that important. It just meant that more riders were going to have to pass me, that's all. I paid my $45 and waited around for the riders' meeting. The meeting was very brief but it covered all I needed to know. I then took the bike over and waited in a short line for the sound test. While in the line, I had some kid right in front of me with a Honda 2-stroke that felt he needed to rev it over and over and over... Maybe I'm getting too old but it irritated the crap out of me. The WR passed the sound test with "flying colors" (96db) and I was now all set to go.

This is the gas trailer

I headed back to the truck since I had about an hour to wait for my start time. While at the truck I made a decision to not wear the belt pack I had on that carried my tools. I transfered the tools to another pouch in my hydration pack and it felt much less bulky to only wear one pack instead of two. I then ate a couple sandwiches to fuel myself up and got ready to go.

My time card

I made my way to the starting area and waited my turn. While waiting, I signed the release on the clipboard that was handed to me. ":58!" was yelled out by the starter so I made my way up to the front. There were 2 other riders on the same minute and brief introductions were made. Starter says "go" and we all start our machines and get going. (By the way, I still have yet to have anyone explain the need for a dead engine start at an enduro event.)

The starting area

I start out feeling a bit tight. My forearms were already sore and I didn't know why. A half-mile into the ride, I missed a turn and ended up in the brush. (I noticed this happened quite a few times during the entire ride so either I was exceedingly unaware of the signage, or the club members who designed the course did a good job of throwing in a few "gotchas". I think it was a bit of both.) I got myself back on course and was already playing "catch-up". The first few miles went by and I noticed that the trail was quite a bit easier than I remembered from the '08 event. One of the advantages of having ridden this event before was knowing that this was just their way to lull you into a false sense of security. The trail would be getting much more difficult... don't you worry.

This is the first turn I missed

At mile 4.2, I was cruising down a fairly easy stretch of trail when just as I gassed it to get over a small obstacle, my right hand completely slipped off the grip. I felt like everything went into slow motion and I saw that I was heading straight for a small tree. I ended up landing just short of the tree with my arms almost wrapped completely around it. As soon as I realized that I was essentially uninjured, I laughed a bit thinking that had just become a tree hugger, at least in the literal sense. I got back on and thought to myself that if I only get one big crash per event, then I should be done... right? We'll see.


Checkpoint 1:


Because I'm a novice enduro rider, I don't even bother with a roll chart. I pretty much have to ride all out just to not "hour out" so what would be the point in having a roll chart? If anything it would just be a distraction and cause me to wipe out at least 2 or 3 more times than usual. At some point in the last year I had decided that the first time I "burn" a checkpoint in an enduro, I'll start thinking about getting a roll chart and a good timer. So checkpoint 1 came into view and I somehow felt that even with my missed turn and my crash, that I was going to be early. Sure enough, I stopped and the guy started writing... I looked at the clock and it said "8:57". One minute early. I figured that if I could be that slow and still be early, there must've been a few other guys and gals who burned that check as well. (turns out I was right)


After check one, the course became a bit tougher. There were parts of the "trail" that could only be called a trail because there may have been a rabbit or a squirrel that had traversed the area once or twice in the last 12 months. Even though 60+ bikes had already been here ahead of me, it still looked like hardly anyone had been there before. There were fallen trees, slippery rocks and super tight sections that required you to "walk" your handlebars through the trees. At one point there was a fairly large cluster of rocks that appeared after a sharp, muddy corner and for a second I felt like maybe we were riding at Erzberg. (ok, it wasn't THAT bad)


With all the soft and slippery terrain, I was extremely happy that I had a "secret" weapon. Well, it was apparently only a secret to me, until somebody clued me in. The last 2 events that I participated in I was using the rock hard, street legal stock tires. I had many other riders say to me that if I had better tires that I would enjoy the ride much more. So a week before the '09 event, I purchased new tires, including a Michelin X11 trials tire for the rear and a Pirelli MT21 for the front. Compared to the "Trailwings" tires that came on the bike from the factory, these tires were amazing. I can honestly say that these tires saved my butt on at least a dozen occasions. If it hadn't been for the increased traction, there is no way I could've made it as far as I did.


Mile 25 or so:


Last year I only made it 25 miles. This time when I looked at my odometer, I realized that I actually was feeling good. I was enjoying the challenge and feeling confident that I'd be able to complete the course. I may not score very well, but I should be able to finish barring any major issues.

Through most of the densely wooded trails it was twisty and slippery, and the lack of visibility caused me to be a little uncertain around some of the blind corners. So when I got out into the clear-cut areas, I initially got this sensation that the trails were somewhat easier due to the increased visibility. Then reality set in. Some of the clear-cut sections were actually more difficult since they were filled with rocks and fallen trees that appeared to, (suspiciously), be put there intentionally. There also was one part that had a steep sandy hill that ended with a near vertical ledge. Had it not been for the new rear tire, I probably wouldn't have made it up on the first try. I also had a run in with a small tree stump. I cut a tight left corner a bit too tight and whammed the shift lever back up and partially over the foot peg. There really wasn't much space to pull over and work on it so I decided to continue on until either the next checkpoint or a nice open area where I could bend it back. I thought I might be stuck in first gear but found out that I could use my heel to shift up. I made it to the next checkpoint without too much trouble and was able to use a well calibrated kick with my right boot to get it back to a usable position. Ride on.

about mile 40 or so

The next section had some amazingly steep drop-offs that you had to ride along. I felt like these deep canyons were like something from The Lord of The Rings, and if you missed a turn or slipped in the mud too much, you'd be tumbling all the way down to the "Shire". There also was a series of steep, muddy hills to climb. And while I had the fantastic new tires to propel me up them, they couldn't see around the blind corner where there was some kid stuck just below the summit of the muddy hill. Since neither the tires nor I saw him, I had to stop... which obviously meant I had lost all my momentum. He finally got himself over the top and now I had to get off the bike and "push-ride" it up to the top. This was much more tiring that I had hoped it would be. I really was fatigued after that and I took it easy for the next few minutes to catch my breath. Prior to reaching the top though, another rider had come up behind me and also had to stop. Of course I felt bad for the guy because I knew that he was going to have to do the same thing. I suppose it's just the way it goes.

Shortly after that hill, I came upon a rider who was letting me by. This was pretty rare since I normally was on the other end of this exchange of places but this one was even rarer in that the other rider was riding the same bike as I was. Yes, there was another idiot out on this gnarly trail riding a nearly 300lb WR250R. The man was obviously nuts. I thought about using this as an excuse to stop and rest by asking him about what modifications he may have done, etc... but alas, I kept on trudging through the mud and goop so I could hopefully make it home before dark.

At roughly 30 miles, there was a gas stop (gas check, whatever) and I knew from riding past events that I would need to top off. I put roughly 2 gallons in and while the excellent volunteers were there helping me, I overheard them discussing someone who might be getting in too late to get their fuel. I told them that I would donate whatever was left in my can. I know it wasn't much but i figure it'd be better than nothing. I headed back out on to the trail and still felt pretty good. (I never did get my can back... oh well, I guess maybe they thought I meant to donate the entire can too?)

Somewhere around the 40 mile mark the trails got extremely muddy and by the time I showed up, they were also badly rutted. As I traversed this area, I encountered a lot more slippery tree roots than usual. I started calling this the "ruts and roots" section. I also started getting a slight case of "monkey butt" and tried to stand up as often as possible. The problem was that with all the ruts and roots, it was exceedingly difficult for me to maintain my balance so I had to use my feet to prevent potential crashes. This meant that the "monkey butt" issue was getting worse. In spite of this new development, I still felt good overall and was confident that I could finish.

Here's a good action shot taken by one of the other competitor's friend. I'll post his name if I can find it.

I kept waiting for a fast section or a big reset so I could make up some time, but it seemed that every checkpoint I got to, my times got a bit worse. It didn't get worse by much, but worse none-the-less.


I finally made it to the second-to-last checkpoint and was 40 minutes behind my time, (the clock said :38 and my time was :58). This actually was good in my opinion since the previous check I was also roughly 40 minutes behind. This meant I was keeping a reasonable pace. I wasn't making up any time but I wasn't really losing any either. The "Checkpoint Commander", (I'm not really sure if they have a title like that or not but I thought it sounded cool), told me that I should have about 5 miles left. I was happy to hear that and headed off across the road, (with the great help from the volunteers keeping a watch out for traffic), and entered the last section of trail. Knowing this was the "home stretch", I actually had a boost of energy and was riding with more confidence now. There was a long straight stretch of dirt road and that allowed me to speed up over 40 mph for a bit. I could just taste the cold beverages waiting for me back at the truck. Then, to my dismay, the trail took a detour into more tight and twisty turns with tree roots and mud. I wasn't as bummed about the terrain as much as I was about the fact that this was going to delay me from consuming the aforementioned beverages.

My WR after the event

I hadn't seen another rider in quite some time at this point and it was somewhat relaxing not to have to worry about someone passing me or having someone in the way. Which is why this next scene was somewhat weird to me. I came upon a rider with his helmet off and bike leaning against a tree. He didn't seem hurt so I didn't stop but when he looked at me I could've sworn it was Terry O'Quinn, who plays "John Locke" in the TV series "LOST". I briefly considerd stopping and asking for an autograph but being that I don't follow the show and I was determined to get back to the truck, I just kept going. I later thought that maybe they were filming in Tahuya for an episode and I probably ruined the scene they were shooting.


I continued on and felt that my pace was steady. I wasn't breaking any speed records but in spite of being on the bike for nearly 5 hours straight through all kind of treachery, I was feeling better than I expected.


Course split:


OK, here's where I made a mental error. The trail took me across a small bridge and at the other side were arrows pointing in both directions. Earlier in the ride there were a few instances where the trail would split ever so slightly and you could choose to go either way and it would end up bringing you back to the same trail. For whatever reason, (it probably looked easier at the time), I chose to go left. I made my way down the trail for a couple minutes but I started to get a feeling that something wasn't right. Being a pilot and having an instictive sense of direction, (with the possible exception of trying to find Salty's restaurant one evening... don't get my wife started on that one.), I could tell I was heading in the wrong direction if I wanted to get back to the staging area. I made the decision to turn around and sure enough, when I got back to the split, I noticed a white sign that I hadn't noticed before that read in big letters: "SHORT COURSE ---->" Damn... I just lost a few more minutes that I really couldn't afford. So I head off in the right direction slightly cursing myself for not paying attention.


The last couple miles were basically more of the same but they were well worn trails so it wasn't too terribly difficult. I finally saw the last checkpoint and was anxious to see how I did. The guy said ":02" and I was a bit confused. This would mean that I either made up 36 minutes (not likely) and was now only 4 minutes behind my time, OR... I somehow went so slow that I lost an additional 24 mintues. I'm fairly confident that I was going fast enough to not lose that much time, however, it's the only plausible explanation. The 3 or 4 minutes I lost on my course split confusion wasn't enough to lose that much time so I guess I just didn't keep up with the 18mph average that was required during the last section. I assumed that this meant that I "houred out" once again. I did tell the guys at the checkpoint that I was a minute or so early at the first checkpoint if that helped at all... it didn't.


I rode back to the truck with mixed feelings. I was bummed about the last checkpoint time but I felt good about the fact that I rode over 55 miles through some tough terrain and still felt like I could ride more. This was a HUGE improvement from last year where I could barely remove my wet socks after the short distance I managed to ride.


As far as I was concerned, I achieved my goal to complete the ride that I couldn't a year ago and to do so without feeling like it took every ounce of my energy to do so. Don't get me wrong, it was the toughest ride I've ever done, but I finished the course feeling relatively strong and like I could've ridden more if need be... (although there would've had to have been a really strong need.)

The next day the results were posted online and to my surprise, it showed me actually completing the course. Of the 96 riders that actually started the short course, I finished 76th. The two riders immediately after me also finished and were given scores for the last checkpoint. Everyone who was #79 and higher didn't finish for whatever reason. Based on how the points are scored, it showed that I was only 46 minutes late to the last checkpoint. Which, to be honest, is about how it felt to me while I was riding. I knew I wasn't making up time but I really didn't feel like I was losing that much either.


Overall:


The ride was well designed. The Bremerton Cruisers Motorcycle Club did a fantastic job putting on the event and I hope that everyone who participated thanked them.


I felt good about my results. I had no delusions about bringing home any trophies but I wanted to ride the entire 55+ miles and not feel like I just rode the Baja 1000... on a moped.

Slight tangent here...


One thing I noticed about the classes riders are registering in. As I mentioned earlier, the Senior C class is supposed to be for novice riders who are between the ages of 40-49. I looked at the score sheets and the top 3 riders in the Senior C class had better scores than a few of the Senior A class riders who are considered, (at least by themselves), to be expert level riders. I realize that it's possible that the C-class guys could've had a great day while the A-class guys may have stumbled a bit, but the reality is that if you are scoring good enough to beat ANY A-class rider, you're definitely NOT a novice and shouldn't be registering in the C class. In my opinion, there were at least 5 to 7 riders in the Senior C class that should've been in the B-class or higher just based on their scores. In the end it wouldn't have made any difference in my score, I just might've been 7th out of 8 instead of 13th out of 14. Just an observation, that's all.

Ultimately, I'm glad I took on the challenge and finally "conquered" the Sparkplug Enduro. I think the enduro format is great and if I were to ever decide to get serious about competing, I would pursue the enduro series.


Thanks again to all the Bremerton Cruisers Motorcycle Club volunteers, I had a great time and who knows, I may even see you next year?

See, I could even manage a slight smile afterward.

Nubs

If you've read my previous posts regarding the enduro rides I've done, you may have noticed that there were a few negative comments made about my tires. I've been riding on the stock, street legal tires that had come on the bike since I brought it home from the showroom. I never thought much of it but it turns out that those rock hard tires were absolutely awful for riding in the slippery conditions that I'm almost always riding in. I decided after completing the 2008 Black Bear Enduro that I wouldn't ride another organized event with the stock tires. So a couple weeks ago I noticed that the notorious "Sparkplug Enduro" was being held on March 29th and I thought that if I'm going to even consider attempting that ride again that I'd better get some new shoes for the WR.

Nubs

Michelin X11

So last Saturday, (March 21st), I went out and got new rubber and had Cycle Gear put them on the wheels for me. I opted for the Michelin X11 trials tire for the rear because I've heard nothing but good things about these tires from all the good riders. For the front I put on a Pirelli MT21 which seems to be a decent knobby and I think it may even be DOT approved.



Saturday afternoon I decided to change the oil and filter and as dirty as the oil was, I'm glad I did. I got the wheels back on, chain adjusted and lubed and was ready to go on a trail ride. Fortunately for me, my friend Dan Thompson had invited me to go on a ride on Sunday with he and a couple of his buddies up at Tahuya. I accepted.


Sunday morning, (not too early mind you), I loaded up the bike and met Dan, Tom and Dave in Belfair at the McDonalds. We all had a "nourishing" meal and then headed up to the ORV park. I expected it be busy, and it was. There were quite a few campers and trailers at the staging areas so we decided to park out on the main road near one of the trailheads. I had never ridden with any of these guys so I really didn't know what to expect. I was pretty confident that I wasn't going to be as fast as they were but I just didn't know by how much. I also didn't really know what to expect as far as how far they were planning on riding that day. I had packed a lunch but didn't really think to pack it with me on the ride since I normally go ride for a couple hours and then come back to the car to take a break. It turns out these guys just go and ride all day and take a lunch break somewhere out on the trail. I'll know to pack my lunch with me next time.


So we hit the trail without much fanfare and I took up the rear as I assumed I was going to be the slowest, I was right. I'd like to have an excuse such as I was an old man compared to these punk kids, but it just wasn't true. Tom, who was probably the fastest and most aggressive, was at least 3 years older than I. Dan is the same age as I am but was much faster through the trails. Dave, who I thought was very skilled and also fast, is somewhere in his mid-fifties. So I just accepted the fact that I was going to be playing catch-up all day with these guys. Initially, I felt like I had to hurry to catch them but after a few close calls, I decided it wasn't worth snapping a leg off or something just to try to keep up. This wasn't a race so I just kept pluggin' along and every so often the guys would wait for me somewhere. It usually wasn't too terribly long of a wait for them, (I don't think), and no-one seemed to be upset.


No long after we got going, Dan's Honda started having a problem idling. In fact, it wouldn't idle at all. We stopped on the trail and with a bit of tinkering, Dave seemed to have gotten the idle screw to adjust a little bit. This normally isn't a difficult task but since the idle screw cable was broken, it required a pair of vise-grips and his reading glasses.

Dave working on Dan's Honda

We continued on and it was narrow and tricky right from the "get-go". Only later on in the day did the trails get easier, which seemed backward to me. Due to the many people out and about this beautiful Sunday, we had far too many instances where we'd encounter a pack of riders going the other direction on the trail. The trail is only wide enough for one bike at a time and has a ton of blind corners. It's amazing more people aren't involved in collisions on these trails. We were fortunate not to actually collide with anyone but getting past everyone was tricky at times.


One of the major reasons I wanted to go on this ride was to see how different the new tires were compared to the rock hard Dunlops I had on before. I was hoping to immediately notice such a huge difference in traction that I could definitively say that my old tires were the entire reason for all my past riding failures. This wasn't the case. It was, however, a noticeable improvement. I found that the rear wheel didn't spin as much while going over the mud, rocks and tree roots. This gave me a little boost in confidence that allowed me to be a bit more aggressive over certain types of terrain. I still need to improve my conditioning and overall skills, but the tires will help save my ass in certain situations.


Another thing I noticed on the ride was that I was in 2nd gear much of the time but the gearing is such that the engine would bog down pretty bad if I got too slow and I was forced to shift down to 1st. This is normal I realize but toward the end of the ride, Dan and I switched bikes just for fun and I found his CR250F was geared such that I could ride in 2nd almost to a stop and it wouldn't bog the engine too badly. In fact, I used 3rd in places that I'd never normally use 3rd with my WR. I'd like to try a larger sprocket on the rear sometime in the future to see how well that works. I also noticed Dan's bike had immediate throttle response off the bottom end and that was nice to have the power right at your fingertips. My 250 has a small, but noticeable, dead spot at the initial hit of the throttle. I believe I've read somewhere that other WR owners are able to remedy this problem with aftermarket exhaust, airbox mods or even possibly re-mapping of the fuel computer. I'm not sure but I should probably research this more.


One other thing I noticed about Dan's bike was it was a bit lower. This is due to him cutting the foam down in the seat. Initially it seemed like a good idea because it really does make it easier to touch the ground. However, after riding on what seemed like a fabric covered 2x6, I decided that I'll look into other options for lowering the bike. While I enjoyed riding his bike, (I really did), the seat made it feel like I was riding on a stagecoach where the seat on my bike is so plush, it's more like a Lincoln Continental. While riding behind Dan earlier in the ride, I had noticed he stood up a lot... now I know why.


After all was said and done, we had ridden roughly 37 miles. This pleased me... knowing that I hadn't eaten anything or had any hydration since starting the ride and I still felt pretty good was good to know. The upcoming Sparkplug Enduro short course is about 50 miles long so if I eat and drink properly, I should be able to feel ok for the whole ride, theoretically of course.


Thanks to Dan, Tom and Dave for letting me tag along on the ride. I enjoyed getting out and breaking in the new tires and knocking some of the rust off.

Old Skool

I recently sifted through a bunch of old photos and I came across some old quad pics from the early 90s. I just thought it'd be a good idea to post them for all to enjoy.

At the Beverly Dunes in Eastern Washington. (Photo by Tony Marrapodi)

More Beverly Dunes

John Garner (Lump) and I after a good ride. (Photo by Tony Marrapodi)

Down on the river.

I went on a half-day ride up at Tahuya yesterday with "Joe the neighbor". We left my place around 8am and were on the trails by 9. Joe was on his Honda TRX quad and I, of course, was on my WR. I was initially concerned that the two different types of machines would'nt really be compatible in terms of speed and capabilities, etc... but after a while it became evident that it worked out just fine. The WR wasn't really suited for the big 'ol mud bog but I was able to skirt around the edges and keep from getting sucked into the deep goop. Joe's quad basically blasted right through all the guck due to the large balloon tires. Once we finished with that mess, we headed back to the truck for a quick water break.

Joe at the bog

Down by the river

We headed back out and this time I took us over by where I found Lola last April. We ended up exploring a bunch of new trails (to us) and our exploration took us to the river. We took a few photos and then headed back out on the trails. We found a large, muddy area with some deep "whoops". It was actually quite fun to traverse this section and I grabbed a few photos of Joe doing so.

Joe riding the whoops

We got back to the truck, loaded up and headed home.

It was a nice day to ride, but then again, most any day is a good day to ride.