Fall Rally 2014

[liverup]

A few pics from my phone.

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A couple more

[ryani]

Had a great time!  The snow and mud reminded me to be a kid again!   Here's link to some photos during the weekend.  Kaden my 12 yr old is ready to come back out this weekend.


https://plus.google.com/photos/101173635028274467473/albums/6059848096780811441

[mitchn06]

Great pics everyone! Thanks for sharing.

[woodsrider 53 RCSD]

Thanks again everyone for the good riding  ,good trails and good food had fun . I went for a hundred mile ride today trails are dried out now. My wrist is still a bit sore. And on the trails I crossed 2 of those ugly green things NO CRASHES.

[Lonesome Dave]

My wrist is still a bit sore. And on the trails I crossed 2 of those ugly green things NO CRASHES.

From now on, I think those green ugly drive-over things should be called "Woody Gates" !!   

[ryani]

I 2nd the motion.  Woody gates has nice ring to it.

[greatbuffalo]

Poor Woody. He needs to find some Woody Gate Tires so he can find some grip when he crosses them.

[sandhillrider]

Bonnie and I would like to thank everyone for making another great rally.
The riding was great thanks LD. We did another 60 miles Sunday afternoon.
I will have to get Bonnie some Woody Gate Tires for her new XT250.
Have some pictures to post once I get a account set up.

[woodsrider 53 RCSD]

WOODY GATES ANY RELATION TO BILL LET ME KNOW.

[liverup]

I created an album on Facebook with the few pics I took at the fall rally and thought I'd try to share.  You shouldnt have to have Facebook to view the album.


https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10204576621646430.1073741837.1560696478&type=1&l=96114bd9c5

[grubbie]

Didn't visit with Tucker at all,...did he have a good time? He sure rode well!

[grubbie]

Hope this works,.....I posted the video to photobucket, youtube reaaly sucks the quality out of the videos. Might be something I'm doing wrong. Anyway, it was slow to load but played good on my computer so here is a try, just some random clips. Had a great time, thanks all!
http://vid918.photobucket.com/albums/ad21/grubbie01/Fall2014rally_zps1bb71da4.mp4

[liverup]

Hey Grubbie,  Nice video!  Tucker had a great time.  I couldn't keep up with him.  We're looking forward to the spring rally.  Take care.

[revmaaatin]

DDSR friends,
As always a special pleasure riding with a diverse group of folks.

My friend Armand from Baltimore indicated it was more than he expected.
It was more than I expected as well.  I think I set some kind of a record...I dropped my KLR twice in 12" and THEN the young people (younger than me) rode it out of the rock field (looked effortlessly) while I tried to tried to get my breath.
Young people = 2 "Buffalo" and an Armand.  Reminds me why it is (usually) best to ride in pairs....
cough.

Around the campfire, I asked about the road to Bear Tooth, via Big Horns and Chief Joseph Highway, etc.
Well, I made the trip!
It was beyond my dreams or expectations. WOW fails to convey the beauty.

I am reposting here my initial ride report, from the DSN_KLR650 site.

revmaaatin.


#212380  22 Sept 2014
Broken Chains, Broken Hearts, and other KLR tales from the Sioux Empire

PROLOUGE

My latest chapter of KLR adventure is nearly complete...the bike is in the barn, some of the things like tents and drop cloths were dried today, and except for picking up and replacing the broken pieces, it will be completed with this ride report.

Believe it or not, none of the broken stuff is attached to me, well, if you don't include the blown out gloves.  None of the broken stuff is so bad that a few green-back photo's of Ben Franklin shoved across the counter won't cure; yet I digress. 

The GPS shows some 1495 miles, slightly more miles were actually  ridden as the GPS fails to record anything after power is lost when the plug loses electrical connection...and it does not reflect the distance the Sturgis rescue posse dragged my BLUE MULE, aka the Blue Pig, dragged it home the last ~130 miles. sigh.



Chapter 1. (Day 3)

It was a dark and stormy night.
Really.

It is about 9pm (2100) on a Friday evening, I peered up into the heavens near Sundance, WY, and I wondered, "Where did all the clear skies and bright stars go?"
I was immediately answered by the soft pelting of rain.
In the dark.
In less time than it took you to read this, I asked the question and was answered with rain.
And it is still 50 plus miles to Sturgis, and I am NOT wearing the rain liner for my pants.

sigh.

Fortunately, it is just a passing shower, but enough rain to beat the mosquitos that are glued to the face shield, beat them into a mush that is swept away by the 75mph blast across my face shield-- and I press on, following as often as possible in trace of another East bound automobile towards their own destinations, known only to them.  I use their headlights to give me an additional sight-distance, hoping that it will serve as additional warning of deer or elk that may be on the highway.


The day (Day 3) began in Red Lodge, MT where Ross Linberg and I met the day before.  Waiting for our lodge-host to prepare our breakfast, we are treated to the long, piercing, howl of a wolf.  Our host mentions to others, 'that is a wolf' which the first howl is immediately responded/replied by a second, and perhaps a third answering wolf, which precipitates some nervous twitter of conversation and laughter.  Not to be out done, a cacophony of yelps, coyotes who foolishly join into the yodeling contest, much to the amusement of the citified folks standing in line for breakfast. 
Q. "Why do wolves like city folks best for breakfast?"
A. 'They taste like chicken."
More nervous laughter follows as I describe a serious wolf encounter in Siberia where the wolves come into town and feast on children going to/from school.  Not likely to happen today, but it is something Sam Colt/John Browning contemplated many years ago, and I for one am grateful/prepared by their efforts.   


Ross and I joined up on Thursday afternoon after he has ridden his KLR , uh, upgrade-to-Tiger, from Williston, ND.  We attempt a highlands ride into the face of an approaching storm, and disgression being the better part of valor, we high tailed it back into Red Lodge, acquiring a room at the inn after a mild wallet biopsy performed to escape 5 hours of rain.

Our breakfast has been properly stowed, our bikes are loaded and no tourist or and tourista have been harmed by wolves or tall tales, we head in a Southerly direction out of Red Lodge.  What begins as a day, planned to ride the Bear Tooth, Chief Joseph Highway into Cody, WY, and US14 across the Big Horn Mts., this day will ultimately end in Sturgis, SD for me.  Ross and I will ride the Bear Tooth Pass South of Red Lodge into Cook City, MT, then the Chief Joseph Highway to Cody, WY.  While eating our early lunch of Chedder Bomb Burgers at the Buns and Bed Café, I realized, I need to be a long way down the road.  Some things can't be helped, can't be helped unless you actually, get up and go help.

The trip had started for me early on a Wednesday, and the cell phone dutifully recorded two calls from a friend who still lived/ranched in the previous parish I have previously served.  I retrieved these two calls as I was setting up my tent in Cody, WY, just as the sun passed below the horizon.  The first call is date/marked at 08.36; it is chatty and without urgency;
"How are you doing, hey, call when you can." 

The second call is at 2.47 (1447); more direct, more dire,
"Janet [his sister] has died from the brain tumor; service will be on Saturday."   

Janet actually passed away on Tuesday, but some new travels slowly; more slowly when you live 250 miles away, and even more slowly if you are strapped to a KLR, WOT on secondary roads where cell phone service is spotty and actually encounter worse coverage =  in and out of cell phone coverage while riding in the Wyoming Mts.  The phone is traveling buried in a pocket somewhere and this operator is not looking at a phone unless it is early in the morning or late at night.   

I listened to the phone messages, called my friend Steve, and was left to contemplate these calls for the next 36 hours, and wished I was not so far away. sigh.

I am reminded of the axiom I coined for a time such as this,
"Death is inconvenient for the living."
Always has been, always will be.

Fortunately, my friend Janet did not suffer pain, but she is gone and my friends that I have shared meals with, chased cows, rode horses, and killed deer with, are now without a wife, a mother, a sister, and a friend, and gone is a genuinely good person, and I am far, far away.

I seem to do a lot of contemplating while mounted on a horse or this thing we call the KLR650.  I don't listen to music or other electronic noise while riding...it interferes with the contemplative value of the motorbike.  This contemplation of Wed evening, all day Thursday, up until 1200 on Friday occurs on the back of a KLR 650 while attacking the roads of WY and MT that look like they were lifted from the Swiss Alps.  I had no idea how beautiful and how rugged (and incredibly dangerous) this part of the world could be...and not all the danger is the road or the terrain but the fellow drives who are apparently equally mesmerized by the immense beauty, but still behind the wheel.  Ross and I dodge other drivers more often than we dodge fallen rocks scattered about the highway.  The rocks have a larger clue of their purpose and are easier to predict.

The ride is not over at noon on Friday, it just goes in another direction, perhaps sooner than the plan, but goes on nevertheless. 
I will arrive in Sturgis at 10pm (2200) and will be back in the saddle again at 445am (0445) Saturday morning.  I arrive in Highmore, SD 30 minutes before the service with time to spare. 

It is a long haul from Sturgis to Highmore, and I do the mental-how-much-gas-will-it take, but I fail to factor in the wind and heavy throttle setting...and I pass by possible gas refueling stations because, I am confident of my fuel range. 
Seems easy enough,
Whack. 
Boot to the Head,
as Cheech and Chong's skit described the young student that was not-always, so-bright.
--some 60 miles from the destination, but only ~11 miles to the next fuel station, the bike flat dies without warning and does not respond to 'RESERVE' fuel while coasting to a stop, still in gear, ever hoping it will 'hit' and I will be on my way.

Nope, not today.  The Blue Pig coasts to a stop...without a secondary whimper.  So close, yet still so far away.
Same song, second verse from Friday's previous bad gas (more on that later);
Drag out the tools and drain the carb bowl again for the second time in 18 hours and the bike fires immediately.  I know I am on reserve and nervously watching my watch.  I should have gone to max range (~45mph), but I choose to go at 55mph and nearly pay a steep price.  As I crest the final hill to Ft. Pierre, SD, I can see the Missouri River in the distance and I believe I have it made in the shade, ah, no, the bike dies a second time, out of fuel but not out of gravity.  I immediately pull in the clutch, shift into neutral, and hunker down over the tank to minimize drag.  I coasted over a mile, coasting into the only gas station for the next two miles, with 3 feet of coasting-energy left in the bike. I push out the kick stand directly in front of the gas pump, and dig out the credit card.   

That was close.

No double secret reserve required by me!  Using double secret reserve when the Blue Pig is loaded like a BLUE MULE is not a good option...and I am grateful I did not have to use it.

revmaaatin.
note: double secret reserve is laying the bike on the left side and sloshing trapped fuel in the right  wing of the gas tank, into the left side.  You only have to do that once to teach you, better fuel management.