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Good Things

By Uncle Ed Paulsen

Ride report delayed a month or so due to some actual work needing to be done. “Day late and a dollar short-It’s the story of my life.” Mike Ness

What do you do when the 1993 world champion endurance road racer loans you a bike for the day? A) Cartwheel it in a meadow? B) Get it stuck up to the handlebars in a river crossing? or C) Politely decline and finish out your weekend on the beat 1983 XR250?

Started off the day with 40 miles of this. Too bad every time I would sneak a peek at the fabulous view, I would find myself getting dizzy and veering off the trail towards the canyon below. This canyon was carved from snowmelt off Mt. Whitney. I honestly could not imagine a nicer trail... It’s a good thing.

We rode thru a respectable hail storm in the afternoon. If you took your eyes off the front fender and looked up, the hail would sting the nose and cheeks something fierce. The “watch your fender system” worked pretty well as long as there were no trees or other bikes in your direct path…

Dax was hounding me like a fly on shit for the last few miles of single track up to this fire lookout tower. I was riding that poor bike quite possibly harder than it ever had before, and given its age and condition, certainly harder than it should have been. I was: turning in early, apexing late, running wide, bouncing off every boulder-tree-bush-small animal/child I could find and floating valves like it was going outta style! Despite my best efforts, every time I could sneak a glance over my shoulder Dax and that menacing orange kat-beast were still there, stalking, biding their time, waiting to see the vintage iron splattered on granite . Dax and I were laughing our asses off once we reached the lookout. I love trail riding.

Despite my open association with Andy Fenwick and my weak-assed attempt at impressing Doug with my David and Goliath racer story’s he offered to loan me a spare shiny CRF. I guess he felt sorry for either me or the poor 20 y-o XR250 and felt the day might go smoother with a full crew on 21st century iron… I reluctantly accepted his offer and parked the tired old XR.

Note my “Junior Ranger” BLM badge. Laugh all you want, but that badge (coupled with my girlishly good looks) got me out of a sticky situation when a real ranger Rick realized in horror that I was cooking spotted owl omelets over an open fire of old growth sequoia wood for breakfast. Hey, we all make mistakes.

Charging Charity made it down; plenty of you asshats getting this ride report would have plain given up on hills like these. (Im thinking of a certain anonymous Midwestern hermaphrodite whom we can anonymously call- Mr. R.Z. or to clear Rhett lets call him Ron Z. or for simplicity R. Zastrow?)

We came to a little stream crossing. It didn’t look so little to me and I really did not want to swamp the borrowed bike.

I was out of breath and crying when I made it to the other side of the small lake. You know I am thinking “Oh thank sweet mother of pearl I didn’t swamp this thang back there”

Truth: Anytime the front number plate is washed clean after a creek crossing, you earned it!

We found a forbidden meadow and had a wheelie good time. Again, I am thinking “I know how to do this,,, and a cartwheel is never out of the equation…Don’t loooooop” After about twenty minutes playing grab ass in the meadow we realized Charging Charity never made it up that last rocky switchback-Doh!@# Way to go team, Marines we are not.

Occasionally I can fake it for the camera. I have personally seen this trail bring grown men to tears due to the 2’ deep ruts. You have to ride with your feet hanging up off the pegs for a good 3 or 4 slow miles. If you get thigh cramps or start tipping over,,, and over,,, it gets real tough.

This is Dan, Dan is da f-in man. He keeps his sheep moving at a pretty good clip and doesn’t pay much attention to whining-sniveling girly men. He keeps things fun by shepherding his flock into snow-hail-lakes-clouds-open shooting ranges-I could increase the list ad-infinitum…

This picture was taken at the top of a particularly nasty section of trail. The riding map has this caption next to the trail “Hogeye Gulch-Very steep best wayà” we had just traveled the other way ß up! It was an extra credit loop that I would have bet cash I could not have made it. Put it this way, you might want to bring climbing slippers-carabineers-rope-and chalk to hike up it. Five star stuff.

Tip: Next time you’re on a group trail ride and get to a tricky unknown intersection where everyone is riding in circles-looking at each other sheepishly shrugging…Imagine all of them saying Bah B-a-a-a-a-H BAAAAHHHH! Your ride will go from good to great right there and it will not matter which trail you take. If your riding with Dan-o you’re about to take the hard route.

Note: Bike is standing perfectly upright near middle of road whilst your retarded author found himself mysteriously upside-down in the snowbank ten feet over in ditch next to the road. Your guess is as good as mine. Eject button? Seized motor? Seized front brake? Seat Bounce gone horribly wrong? Ass Monkeys? James Stewart is suspiciously missing from this picture… Hmm very interesting…

Ed Paulsen