THE FIRST ANNUAL IRON HORSE RENDESVOUS

A long over due report of one of the best weekends of the year

Mid September and school was back in.  Hmmmm . . . we need a ride.    Bikes and Riders started rolling into one of our favorite places just past the Harris Creek summit Friday afternoon.  

Counted 27 total bikes betwixt 9 families, including some great ones like:

    Killer Kate  and  Easy Rider Ezra                     Gunner and Son of a Gunner J

        Bam Bam Brandon and Boys

A collection of Conklin's
A rabble of Rex's
An arsenal of Andelin's 
A winrow of Westers
A Net full of Neyman's
and A measure of Menloves

LINE EM UP, and  LOCK N' LOAD

A BIG Southern "Thank you Sir" to The Colonel for setting this one up, and supplying another tremendous motivator for attendance:

The Colonel isn't just a TWO-STOKE-BLOKE, he is also also a champion PIT MASTER.

The man uses smoke to his advantage!

Conditions were fantastic, and the spread The Colonel laid out would have made another Colonel jealous.

The trip wasn't without incident.  We will not give too many details.  

Suffice it to say, it should be head up, feet down. 

There was one more achievement from this trip.  There has been one individual who has been wanting a name, so a name he shall have.  It came to me near the end of the trip.  I had watched Weston race a loop we found over and over.  Timing it, and trying to keep up with Mad Man Michael, always wanting to do it again.  I have noticed this behavior with him around a ping pong table as well.  Late Saturday afternoon, Weston loaded up his bike and informed the kids it was time to go home.  Got it all strapped down, and sat down to enjoy friends for another minute.  

Then he said, "Alright, one more ride."  He unloaded his bike, and off we went, but the evidence was in place.   

Please say hello to "Weston One More"

See you next year at IRON HORSE RENDESVOUS II

SHUT YOUR YAPS, WERE GOING TO TRAPPER FLATS

Somewhere betwixt Warm Lake and Yellow Pine is a spot known by the locals (both of them) as Trapper Flats.  Great place to camp along Johnson Creek and set up home base for some fantastic riding and memory setting.

This was the 2015 installment of the Sweet Valley Summer Community Campout, or SVSCC.  They say a picture is worth a thousand words.  Lets see what this one photo can say:

4 individuals-- 4 personalities.  Does the pic capture who they are?

 Bishop D:  A smile

Sister D:  Hands on Hips

She who shall not be named:  Bit of a smirk

Mad Man Mike:  Eating roast from the night before

 . . .Yeah, I'd say that got it.  Anyway, back to the riding.  We were not short on participants (just patience).   It was a mob!  I am sure we were in violation of some Forest Circus, er, Service code.  Tuff to find a ride that accommodates riders of all skill level, but good Ol' Piston Probst is a pretty good leader.

   

The group was in for 3-4 days and logged a bunch of miles.  Places like Stibnite and  Reardon and many others.  Notice the scenery as I try and chase down Kid Callen.

On the way out on the last day, we caught a bit of footage with the James Gang that has caused us to consider a new name for Kid Callen.  It can be seen here in its entirety.  

Now, that happened pretty fast, so here are a couple of stills that make give you a clue at how close that really was.  I call this one, "The First Whoa"

Followed by, "The Squeeze"

And let's not forget, "The Look"

High-Flying Harrison contends that he sees this look all the time.  Remember that 1,000 word thing?  

Here is Kevin's version of how Kid Callen rides:

Callen promptly pointed the finger at his father, 50 Staple Conklin, claiming, "I told my dad I don't have any brakes!"  However, after a bit of examination, a few incriminating pictures have surfaced.  Exhibit A, taken a few moments prior:

You know how the back of the bike kind of swings sideways when you are going fast and hit the rear brake so hard that the tire goes into a skid?  Kind of a lot of dust coming off a rear tire with no brake.  Maybe the chain locked up on him or something.

Exhibit B:  

Hmmm . . . toe sure is pointed down like it was pushing a brake lever.  

Whatever the case may be, Kid Callen will henceforth be affectionately known as, "The Squeeze."  Threaded that needle like a champ!  Don't you think Kevin?

BLAKE'S MISTAKE

If you ride em, you wreck em.

I have said it for years.  (Lately I have been thinking, "If you ride em you fix em."  but that isn't the point of this story)

Well, Blake Rides em, but it is pretty rare that he wrecks em.  But rare doesn't mean never.  

Piston Head Probst, a grandson of a shepherd, has been riding since he was a wee lamb himself.  He has a helmet, but it is a bit foreign to him, so even when he does wear it, it may not be worn correctly.

Which is what brings our attention to the current post:

Blake's Mistake

**Not to be confused with "Jaillett's Regret"

  

An astute observer familiar with Sagehen Res. would recognize this corner as an entrance to one of the campgrounds.  It is the scene of the crime.  During the 2014 riding season, ha and his were returning from a ride with family and friends, our Hero, Piston Probst, was taking advantage of the gentle decline to coast his bike.  Being that close to camp, and surly being safe, he pushed his helmet up on to the very top of his head--you know, to be a bit cooler on a hot day.  He also spread his arms wide, showing his full wingspan to better enjoy the glide of the downhill coast.  Upon reaching the turn off, he found himself going a bit too fast to make the corner "No-handed" so he used the transmission to slow himself down, and kicked the bike into 1st gear, skidding the rear tire, and putting him to the asphalt, full wingspan and all.  Remember the part about the helmet?  It went bouncing down the road, farther than Piston Head did himself.  Unfortunately there are no pictures of the tumble, so we have done our best to recreate the incident.

CASH MONEY CAT'S VERSION

PEPPY PAYTON'S RENDITION

Payton really went the extra mile, and was willing to show how it ended:

After putting it off for as long as he could, Piston Head finally submitted to the pain in his foot and
went to see a Dr.  After she (which somehow makes it funnier) she, says, "I will have to put you in a walking boot for a few weeks."

Blake:  "I'm not wearing that, those are dumb."

Dr. Lady:  "Let me get this strait.  You were riding no handed, with your helmet on the very top of your head, and put it in gear, hurt your foot, didn't come in for weeks, and you don't want to wear the boot because it is dumb?  Is that what you are saying?"

Blake:      . . . um . . .

If you ride em, you wreck em.

THE SAGEHEN CHICKS

Biker Chicks?  Sure, Every guy likes a girl that likes  a bike.  Well, here are a three of em.



     Cash Money Cat                          Peppy Payton

And Introducing:

Cobra     Kai 

of the Cobra Kai Dojo

I told her to "Sweep the Leg," but she just looked at me kind of blankly.  We headed up to Sagehen with the Gunner Jaillett's thinking of no better way to celebrate the last day of School!

Now, the astute blog reader should be saying, "Wait a minute, I thought Shawdowfax was in intensive care?"  and you would be correct.  (Been gathering parts with much eagerness and impatience--the thunder rolls next week.)  Gunner J could easily be nic-named "Trader J" and hooked me up with one of his hook ups, and put me on a monster Lafonduh Honda 650L.  The thing is like straddling a Cadillac, and I was glad to have it.

Check out the gas tank on that hog!

                           "Son of a Gunner Jaillett" even let me ride

 his 400.              

Snappy little Scooter.  Only problem is with that paint job, it can be difficult to find in the forest.

You know why they don't sent donkey's to college?




Anyway, back to the biker Chicks--They were
 doing great!

   

Every once in a while I would try and get Son of Gunner to give out Cockadoodledoo, but again, I got the furrowed brow, blank look.  

Gunner J loves his zippy racing  Quadzilla.  It's is not a Quadzilla, but it is way too much fun to not say Quadzilla.  

Somebody is gonna think aliens landed there.

We even gave Joe's Creek a go.  This is not an easy trail, but sure is a fun one.  

It did not take long to realize it was still early in the season:

 You remember I was on a
650L?

Even got into the snow, and was reminded of how bad bikes are in the snow.

Another great, safe, beautiful trip on the Scoots.  

Vroom Vroom