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Cheboygen MI~what a cool place
to be!
By Tammy Olson (aka Blndebmbr)
I, the hubby (Mike) and a friend of ours (Jim) headed out
Thursday afternoon. We met up with my friend Greg and his
parents, Bob and Kim, south of Oshkosh. We made it to Michigan
late Thursday night, unpacked and went to sleep. Friday morning
we woke up, met Greg’s brother Tony and his wife. We
ate breakfast and by 11:00 were at the trails. Greg took us
to Black Mountain. I was so excited I could hardly get the
bike unloaded fast enough. The 250F and I have had a love/hate
relationship so far. She loves to send me flying and I hate
picking myself up!
So without any hesitation, we get the bikes started and headed
out on a double track (? I think that’s right). It was
cool. I picked my way through the trees and started to get
comfortable with the slippy slide of the sandy terrain. The
little berms were cool and I didn’t even mind the little
whoops in between the turns. As time went on I felt more and
more confident.
With confidence comes more speed. My ‘Chi’ was
in motion and the world was happy. Weaving in-between the
trees seemed easy. I had the rhythm flowing. The next thing
I know the leaders were stopped in front of us. They were
pointed to the right. I looked and saw what looked like a
hiking path. When everyone caught up, they started heading
down it. I took a deep breath. I did not know how I was going
to fit down this hiking path. There were little trees to the
left and to the right. At times I didn’t even know if
we were still on the path because of all the leaves covering
the ground. I carried a decent speed and didn’t get completely
left behind. CRACK! Thank goodness for bark busters…that’s
all I can say. It seems like you hit one tree only to hit
another, then another, than another. I kept the bike up though.
I really only tapped a tree here and there, but it sure felt
worse than a tap. I was thankful that I only scrapped here
and there while the cracks were on little trees that moved
out of my way.
Fortunately we only rode the path for what seemed to be a
couple of miles. We turned off of the path (later I was informed
it was a ‘single track’-I called it dirt bike hell)
on to a ‘real trail’. You know, one that was wider
than my handle bars. I guess this was an ATV trail.
I started to carry more speed. I was confidently running
second gear. I worked the clutch and rear brake together….in
a fashion I have never accomplished before. I quickly learned
that rocks aren’t so bad. You can slide off the side
of them with minimal issues. I learned that sand sucks….literally.
But what makes it fun is when there are rocks in the sand.
My mind was reeling the entire day. I was going up hills.
I was on winding trails that were filled with sand. I had
the fear of too much throttle in my mind as I would approach
a turn but would feel the sinking sand beneath me.
I was exhilarated when I figured out how to turn the bars,
smack the throttle and whip the bike through a hard turn.
I began to love the feel of that rear wheel biting into the
soft soil and launching me forward. I was amazed at how easily
the bike would get around with just a goose of the throttle….were
I wearing a microphone, nothing but giggles would have been
heard. Up and down, around to the left and then to the right.
Light sand into deep sand sliding into rocks and bouncing
off stumps. I have never felt so confidently out of control
before. My favorite was going down the sandy hills, locking
up the rear and sliding sideways down the hill.
We ended up coming to a spot that was filled with sand. It
was appropriately called the sand pit. Bob was parked under
a tree and waved me past. Greg was in front of me. I watched
him hunker down, twist the throttle and launch his KTM 450SX
forward. I thought nothing of it and eagerly followed. As
I passed the tree and looked ahead I saw Greg going straight
up……what used to be a ski mountain. My jaw dropped.
My hand released the throttle. I hit the kill button. I removed
my goggles. I looked at Bob, shook my head and said “No
f’ing way”. There was no way I was going to get
up that hill. Hell, I wasn’t even going to try. There
were three whoops on the bottom and there was no way I was
going to be able to carry enough speed to even get halfway
up.
So while everyone else went up and down the hill I sat there
with fear glazed eyes. Fortunately there was another way to
get to where they wanted to go. We got to ride through solid
sand covered whoops. Now those I had fun on. The suspension
on my bike was finally working for me. I could feel the bike
absorbing all of the bumps and handling it all. It was amazing
to feel it compress and expand…all without the nasty
headshake. I felt like I was running a steeplechase champion.
At the end there was a decent sized hill with deep sand to
climb up. I shifted my weight to the rear, twisted the throttle
and up we went. At the top I hooted and hollered like an idiot.
I was just thrilled I got to the top.
We finished the day winding through various trails. I got
to bounce off tree roots and even try to climb the ‘steps’
that they made. All in all when we returned to the trailers
I had a smile on my face from ear to ear. I could not believe
how much fun I had….all for $16.25. The price of one
ORV sticker.
That night we had dinner. I thought about all I had learned
that day. I was really thankful to have spent a bit of time
at Joey’s house this summer. It may have only been a
couple of hours, but those couple of hours helped me more
than any trackday I had been on to date. I started contemplating
how I was going to get myself a recluse and could not believe
the things I was capable of doing on my dirt bike. The smile
got even bigger.
DAY TWO
Well we head out to the trails. Tromped around and were having
fun. The boys decided they wanted to go hill climbing. Oooo.
Kinda nervous about that one. But what the heck. So off we
go in search of hills. So far I had done well with everything
that was presented to me. Second gear was my choice for going
up the sandy hills because it seemed to have more ‘oomph’
in the thick of the climb.
We turn on to this trail that is covered in little rocks…..little
loose rocks. It wasn’t gravel. It was rocks. No big deal.
The trail has whoops in it. Again, no big deal. Up it starts
to go. A gradual climb into the air. I was second to last
in line. The next thing I know, the grade significantly increases.
The bike starts to bog. I am sliding around and getting very
uneasy. Mike is in front of me. He bobbles a bit but dug in
and got up the hill. I downshift into first but it’s
too late. The last minute attempt only got me bouncing around.
I bounced towards the ledge. There was a drop off. I decided
to stop there and let go of the bike. Bob was behind me smiling.
Now here is the part where I was missing my little YZ80.
That 250F is not only heavy but she did not want to start
on the hill. Somehow, I managed to get the bike off the ground,
got her turned around and headed back down the hill. Bob got
stuck too because he had to stop for me. By the time I got
that big ‘ole bike down the hill I was winded. I am an
out of shape little gal of 5’6” weighing in at maybe
140#. It takes a ton out of me to drag that bike around. So
Bob asks me if I’ll try again. I don’t want to.
Not even a little bit. But all the boys got up there and I
had to do my part to represent the females out there. So I
said I’d try after I caught my breath. Of course the
dang bike wouldn’t start. The rest of the boys came back
down…worried I went off the ledge. Finally I got the
bike started and they sent me up first to make sure I could
get up the hill. I took a good running start, over a whoop
and everything. Kept my butt over the rear wheel and the throttle
turned. In first gear I got the 250F to pull me up the hill
jumping, skipping, snorting, sliding and digging all the way
up. I was elated….exhausted but thrilled.
On to the next hill; “Shaboom”. This one was sandy….and
tall. It had a pretty steep grade to it as well. Greg biffed
going up. In fact he flew over the handlebars. He got up his
second attempt. Tony made it up fine. Jim followed in perfect
fashion. Mike waved me to go first. I took a deep breath,
turned the throttle and headed up the hill. It was a weak
attempt. I had zero momentum, especially after the whoops.
Mike said I was well over half way when I went over. I think
my front got hooked up in a rut. This time I managed to keep
the bike running. I picked it up and came back down. Even
more tired than before. I told Mike to go ahead first so I
could catch my breath. He crashed and had to try again. My
second attempt was here. I lined up like I was at the starting
line waiting for the flag to drop. I revved the bike, released
the clutch and launched….made it through the whoops and
dove into the hill. I could feel the rear spinning and catching,
spinning and catching, digging and pushing. I stayed on the
throttle, kept her in the R’s and we made it….our
second attempt! As I reached the top of the hill, Jim, Greg
and Tony were applauding. That made me feel so good!!!! I
was thrilled that I did it. But I was tired.
We stopped for lunch. We headed out again and attacked some
more single tracks. This is where my fun turned sour. I decided
it would be a perfect time to play “pine tree pinball”.
No joking. I could not get through the trees to save my soul.
I would have to say I hit a tree every other mile. I’ll
share only the highlights because after the 6th tree I was
so tired and frustrated I just wanted to go home. One of the
better crashes was when I bounced off of a rock, the bike
flew up an embankment, tipped over, slid backwards and packed
the silencer with dirt. When I finally got her started, about
a pound of dirt went flying out of the exhaust.
The next highlight was when I was trying to get around a
very sharp left, tree to the right, turn to the right with
a tree directly across from the first tree on the left. Well
I managed to whack the tree on the right. It turned my bars
and sent me directly into the tree on the left. When the bike
stopped, it was wedged between the two trees. It was blocking
the trail and I couldn’t get up because I had hit my
thigh on the handlebar during my wonderful highside-ish dismount.
That took me a couple of minutes to shake off.
The second greatest moment was when we were going up the
root “steps” in the trail. I couldn’t get the
front wheel up if I had to. So I was basically ramming the
bike up the trail. I ended up bouncing, both wheels in the
air. I landed only to bounce a second time. When I landed,
I goosed the throttle. Of course the bike found traction and
we launched into a tree. Fortunately it was a sapling. So
when it caught me it got pulled from the soil. The guilt of
being a baby tree killer haunted me for the rest of the day.
Mike was behind me and said he wished he would have had a
helmet cam on….it was hysterical.
So for the greatest crash of the day-the double pine smacker.
I was on the trail. It had reasonable width to it. We had
been on more narrow ones throughout the day. Greg was behind
me. Every time I crashed, he told me to just look through
the center of the trees and I’ll get through. Well, I
looked in between these two full grown pines. I should have
easily cleared it. Crack! Smack! Crash! I smacked my left
buster dead center on the tree. I was not happy. It was my
final crash of the day and it was the hardest. The bike stopped
and just decided to lie down. Right there. No saving it, no
wavering, no wobble. Down! I looked at Greg ~”I was looking
through the trees. I don’t understand!” He asked
if I was ok. I was. I was just pissed as hell. I got back
on the bike and somehow made through the rest of the trail
and back to the trailers.
I was very frustrated by the end of that second day. I had
ridden so well the day before. I could not understand how
I could go from doing so well to crashing many times. Well
I figured it out. I was tired. My body was tired. My arms
could not control the bike like the day before. I was not
able to weave my long bars through the trees. I was spent.
Between the work of the first day and the hills my body was
done. I was then sloppy and uncoordinated. It was like I had
never ridden a motorcycle before. Now I know what exhaustion
does to riding performance. It will take a solid rider down
to nothing.
Riding trails on my dirt bike is the most difficult thing
I have done to date. But I can say it was the most fun I have
had….well, I think I have a little more fun on the ice.
But the trails were more fun than any race that I have been
in. It was me vs. me and all I had to do was get to the stop
sign. I applied new techniques and gained confidence in myself
and the bike. I was amazed at all the things this bike can
do…..especially with an idiot in the saddle. I cannot
wait to get back out there next year.
Tammy
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