"AND THEN THE WHEELS CAME OFF . . ."

Holding Vigil

Well, the wheels did not actually come off--that would have been way better.  A recent quick trip to the Cycle Park turned into a major meltdown in the core.  

Started great:  2 Walkers and a Rex

 

Pretty good team

(Those clouds will play a part before this story ends)

 Found some great hills to climb, and after the recent rain the conditions were perfect!

Even the typically cruddy sand was great.

At this point we will ask for a moment of silence.

Thank you.  

Worked our way over to the step up jumps, which I foolishly choose to participate in, and upon landing, everything locked up.  I knew right away something real bad was upon me.  Not in the mood to take many pics at this point.  Coasted down the hills I could, but was soon in the bottom of the gully in the deep sand.  Wingman Walker earned his name as he rode along side of me and using his left hand on my shoulder pushed my big bike and big bike butt all the way out to the lower parking spot.  (I can't express how impressive of an act this was.  Dude was sore for 3 days after.)

 

Got to the bottom and 2 studs saw we were in a jam.  They offered a ride all the way up to the Sweet Valley.  Saved the day with their ambulance services.

Remember the clouds?  The others, now down a rider, made tracks for home, but got caught in the storm.  I seem to recall some comment about riding in the rain was way better than having to push the Rasta Man out.  Agreed.  

So finally got the bike on the operating table, and started poking about.  

   

SHADOWFAX!!!                       

  

Poor bike bled out right there on the shop floor.

See that chain wrapped around the

timing gear?  It's like Trot, 

"He aint right." 

Appears the nut on the valve adjustment screw came off, the valve screw fell out, got NAILED by the cam lobe, and sent pieces into the timing chain, which got obliterated, and tore up parts underneath.

Then the piston, still being a piston, came up into the open valves, and sentenced them to life in the scrap iron pile.  If you hear a distant noise, it is the register's Carl's cycle adding up my totals.

              Not sure what you know of valves, 

                          but that's not good:

It is not expected he will be out of intensive care for several weeks.

Not sure what you have in mind for upcoming Fast Day but . . .

HARRIS CREEK III

Round 3

We can't get enough of this place, so we sent out an A.P.B.   "Calling all Riders . . ."
 
Oh, last Church Nerdery Trivia:   Can you connect this pick
with the name of this locale?

Anyway, back to the fellas:

Klondike Mike, who has fallen off the wagon,

and is fully addicted again.

  

 A Pair of Pistons named Probst

Wingman Walker, Nitro Neyman and a few other odds and ends.

***The "Cabelas Helmet."  May or may not be DOT approved

Bike trouble, my least favorite kind of trouble, set in and a few had to bow out early.  However, the ride must go on!

Got back into the trees and soon into the snow.

Klondike is a big believer that, "A Little Dirt Never Hurt"  . . . 

 . . . so he threw some of it around.

There had been two facts previously mentioned:  1.  Klondike is back,  after a while.  2.  There was snow.

 Perhaps he had forgotten that if you stop by a bank, some jerk will come by and make a roost deposit.  He was given a bit of a reminder.  

To forgive is divine.

Speaking of forgiveness, forgive the blurriness

 Hey Nitro, wanna go down a stream?

  

Okay Klondike Mike, a final question for you:

Did you have a good time?

Harris Creek II

The Return to Harris Creek

"The still must tease with the promise of a story the viewer of it itches to be told."                                                                                                                                                   --Cindy Sherman

Last week's Harris Creek ride teased with a story I was itching to hear, and after talking it up so much, Nitro Neyman started feeling the itch as well.

More Church Nerd, Post-Related Trivia: 

                                                             

The bell finally rang and I actually beat some of my students out the door, and they're always antsy to roll out. 

 LOCK AND LOAD!!  

Grabbed some fuel and cool ones from Ray's Corner,  and were on the way.  Oh yeah, and driving down Hwy 55 in HSB I spotted a pair of "Rotogrip" pliers laying in the road.  SCORE!  It was an omen of being on the cusp of a great ride.

 Can you see Round n' Round Neyman?

From same pic, just zoomed in on him.

This thing is up tempo right out of the gates--probably gains 3,000 vertical feet in ten minutes of riding.  Aye, it's a screamer.

It soon gets into the trees, and then starts forking, splitting, rutting and and rolling.  OUTSTANDING spot. 

                                                                                   

  

        Timber Consternation.

Pick the song you think fits best:  For the Strength of the Hills

or

The Hills are Alive, with the Sound of Motos?

Nitro found this little bump on at the bottom that he went off, then again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again . . . 

Oh, by the way, soon after arriving, I noticed my gas can that I had just filled at Ray's Corner was no longer in the back of my truck.  Now, I know that I had the tailgate down, and that Harris Creek is the most washboard road in the county, but that doesn't mean I wasn't surprised when it didn't arrive with the rest of our gear.  At this exact moment of epiphany, another rig went by.  Geoff says, you better hurry . . . then we hear it go around the corner, stop, back up, door close, engine rev, speeding off.  Harris Creek Theives!

***Just because you find something in the road doesn't mean it is now yours!***

HARRIS CREEK I

Just east of Horseshoe Bend, Idaho is a fantastic canyon that has been cut by what is now known as Harris Creek, and it was considerate enough to leave a splendid place to Ride the Sunrise!

I have no notion of where it got its name, but it  seems like a good place to lose 116 pages.  (Church nerd humor)

The Colonel's son, Josh, had ridden here before, and said it was good, so we loaded trailers with bikes, and riders with Monsters.  Oh, by the way this was The Colonel's first real ride on the new bike.  Maybe ought start off with an easy one, wouldn't you say?  So after getting unloaded and firing up these fine two wheeled machines, Josh says, "Um, it might be a little steep here at the start, so let's go up the road a ways and there is an easier trail.  I think we may need to cross the creek, but it shouldn't be too bad."   

Turns out, "The trail" and "The crossing" were one in the same.

  

 Cash Money and Zach (now accepting name applications) jumped right in, and did great.

 Even, she who wishes to not be named, was up for the challenge and did fantastic!

Looking great, Cat!     

The first part, as it often does, tended to be easier than the last, and it quickly became a fight.

The Colonel particularly was not amused.  He was as aggravated as though someone had made off with his 11 herbs and spices.  Something along the lines of, "I JUST GOT THE BIKE!"  and "THIS AINT FIT FOR RIDING!"  

But things have a way of working out.  We got up on top, the sun was shinning, we didn't worry about wet boots, and enjoyed the moment.  Even The Colonel had to admit it was a neat spot.

          Isn't that right, Mr. Sanders?   

                           Well isn't it?






            RastaRobby says 2 REVS