Weeee! I'm done...

I'm writing this post from the comfort of my kitchen at home. I had a challenging day yesterday as I completed the second leg of my journey into Ellensburg, WA, close to the half way point in the state.

I had awoke to the sound of rain on my tent at 5:30am. Not necessarily a bad thing, as I'm pretty waterproof in my riding gear, but it can make the trails tricky. I broke camp and was on the move before 7am. The ride was going well, and I was bright and fresh as I set out to finish the second leg, and possibly start the third.

10 miles of dirt from camp lead me to a fun bit of twisty asphalt which was my connector to the base of Cleman mountain.

I was having some reservation about beginning the steep climb to Cleman's 5000 ft peak,

and almost opted for riding around. The rain had stopped, so against my better judgement, I started the assent. Up to about the 3000 ft mark, life was good. The beginning his section had me grinning quite often as I was attacking the switch backs and throwing the bike into slides around corners. This is what I came to do, and it was a blast.

The trail after that point took a turn for the more technical. Gravel turned to rocks, and the rocks kept growing in size. Most were fist sized, with melon sized rocks littering the trail, and making the going very slow and uncomfortable. To add to the fun, it had started to rain again, making the basalt rocks very slippery (imagine riding a bike on marbles), so much so that I was having to ride sitting down to keep weight over the back tire to keep it from constantly loosing traction. This limited my control of the bike, which if I am honest, was way over packed and already a bit burdensome to handle.

I think you can see where this is going...

At this point, I wasn't thinking about making the peak, I was focused on the next 30 feet in front of my bike. The crash happened at about a half mile and 500ft below the peak. I wasn't traveling fast, less than 10 miles per hour going uphill, and it was a quick bad bounce for my front tire and I was on my side with these damned rocks to cushion my fall. It was a blink of an eye, and more of a tip over than a crash.

Here I will say how I was thankful for every decision I made about how I outfitted my bike with crash guards and luggage, and about the riding gear I was wearing (a lot of it) .

The engine case was saved by the over sized skid plate and my leg and ankle, stuck under the bike, were saved by my riding boots and soft luggage (I had considered going hard cases and am very glad I didn't). The full upper body under-armor saved my rib cage and arm. Yay me for a making good decision once in awhile.

Once I extracted myself, I checked the bike out to find only a cracked electronic throttle control module with wires still intact, so no big. The bike wouldn't start and showed all the signs of a flooded engine. Disconnecting the fuel line, emptying the float bowls, and a little time (an hour) was all it took to have The Doomicorn (the kids gave the bike the name) purring like a unicorn named Doom. I repacked my tool kit and bags and took a moment to congratualate myself, and to question my sanity.

Affirming the answer I gave to that last question, I could hear the dad from "that 70's show" deadpanning "Dumb-ass" as I pushed for the summit knowing the rain was going to make things more difficult if I waited. Reflection on the crash fresh in my noggin, I remembered the words of my buddy Bruce when we were riding Harly FatBoys on a dirt road in Wisconsin; "speed up on dirt for better control of the bike" or in biker terms, "pin it and grin it."

More like "pin it and grimace," but I made the summit, regardless of my less than expert level riding skills.

Like most elation, it was short lived as it was made clear that the steep decent on the western slope was actually part of the same mountain, and made of the same damned rock.

Long story short. I made it, white knuckle all the way down. I finished the leg of the journey in Ellensburg, fueled my bike and headed home.

650 total miles, 230 of them dirt. I made it far enough. Maybe I'll finish the shorter legs in my 4x4 and a family member or 3, so they can share in the adventure.

Cheers!

A well deserved brew.