Saturday was a trail maintenance day. The club’s DS coordinator took two of us to one of the other ranches we’ve never been on; it’s by an old bridge off of Hwy 58.
We parked under/near some oak trees, and was asked to take a pick or shovel. I asked if we were going to be long -deck shoes do not make good work boots - and he said no, we’d be done in 20 minutes (warning #1).
Hiking down the trail ¼ mile, we find this 200-foot uphill with a fairly good rain rut. As we begin to distribute the soil, rocks and sticks for optimum traction and removal of obstacles, I regret not bringing my gloves. About an hour later we had made it passable for B riders. I did manage to get two blisters, so laugh with me farm boy.
Another group of three guys had staged at a ranch further up the road; they came by and were finishing up arrowing, asking if we wanted to do a small loop. “Sure!” On our way back with two wheels, we had attempted our difficult, newly manicured hill. Number two up, the DS coordinator, lost his momentum and like fools we all were right behind him, and had to turn around and try again; except me – I though I could restart there and make it up a bit more. I did, but not much beyond the next bend. On our second try, all but two made it up (yes I did, farm boy), and the others went around.
We loaded up and went to the main ranch for more trail marking, although it was not necessary as there were 3x as many hands as were needed.
The next day, instructions were to show at the sign up for assignments at 6 am. Other than your normal disorganization, things got off to a start, and signups/check-ins began promptly at 7am. This is where our future industry leaders develop their leadership skills – anything goes.
Walking the parking lot revealed many trailers and motor homes; some camped in their vans and pickups. The pre-registered 330-rider limit was reached weeks ago, but with the weather changing I would think some would bail - more on that later.
I left shortly after 7am, following the fuel trailer; it had several 55-gallon barrels of Union 76 (rolling bomb) and manual pumps. The tarp was not fastened properly but one stop to fix it and we went over the grade to one of the ranches. It was a bit tacky on the dirt road, but nothing alarming - yet. It was getting windy, though, with storm clouds threatening.
Entering the main ranch, our intent was to park near and stage out of the BBQ area, ~2 miles in from the paved country road and the ranch’s main entrance. Asking other drivers if my 2wd pickup could make it, they said to give it a try (warning #2). I was able to get a respectable 1-mile or so in, but could not maintain enough momentum to carry me up a sweeping incline; it’s good I couldn’t go beyond as there were other inclines far more difficult, let alone the drive back out if I could make it in. I have some 4wd skills from my youth (lots of speed?), which were well used to get me back to safety at the main entrance. It was easier to ride the loaner bike in but now I couldn’t change out of my riding gear to work the BBQ and was assigned (warning #3) to the ranch check-in on the remote side of the ranch, about another 4 miles to the southwest.
By this time the cloud cover was fully developed. Did I mention it already rained the night before? Just the day before, Saturday, it was so dusty that it was annoying, but now pleasantly tacky, yet the second storm front was threatening to drench us all.
The club’s assigned ranch-leader took six of us on bikes to the far end, where I was to be stationed, and was going to arrow the course on their way back after leaving me there. On this one last downhill I’m thinking, “the DS riders are coming up this, and with DOT tires?” - more on that to come.
Now there I was at my assigned station, on some ranch entrance I had never been to. My leader told me two things before his departure: “I will send you a relief/replacement in an hour or so; no more than two, then you are free to ride the course back”. Then after that I receive my one and only firm instruction – “check for a dot/sticker on the back of each entrant’s helmet, then let them in”. With that, my escorts scoot back onto the course to set stakes and arrows. As I hear the whine of two strokes and the thundering of thumpers diminish in the distance, I begin to think, what country road is this in front of me? Wouldn’t someone want to know besides me? What are the alternatives if the course beyond my check-in turns into an impassable bottleneck? Where does this country road lead? What about the other direction? Speaking of direction, which direction are they coming from? And what are the club member’s cell phone numbers I might call? So many questions, and the two dogs that joined me from a nearby house hadn’t a clue…
About 20-minutes later, the first pair of riders come thru. Other than one stalling in the rocky creek behind me, they sped right on up to the ranch and beyond. Then there was a huge wave of riders who came in – likely half of the entrants (I quickly lost track); a real mixed bag, but all seemed to be enjoying themselves; very few if any came back, calling it quits or asking for a way around. With the help of a few of them, I was able to learn which was the right way back to town, and the other being the unplanned bypass to the BBQ.
Since the rain had picked up to the point of being steady, the second wave fared much worse a fate than the first – very few riders made it thru the hill climb, although most wanted to make the BBQ; it was good I finally had my directions correct. And even better I had wore my wet weather gear ‘cuz it was getting cold standing there.
It was getting rather lonesome about 2pm; one of the dogs was cranky and wouldn’t have me any longer. By 3pm my leader and crew had swept the course backwards, and assisted those who needed help getting back out. Joining up, he led us up the road to the gas stop, then the main entrance of the ranch, all the while being pelted on the cheeks by the rain, at highway speeds. Upon reaching the BBQ, my loaner bike was pinging – I suspected the wet weather had changed the jetting requirements, but not so (more later).
After my fill (x3) of tri tip, we put our hands to the tarps, chairs and tables, loading them on to the dozen 4wd pickups present. My loaner bike wouldn’t start. “What? Little compression?” Turns out the extended ride on the road had loosened a head bolt I may have improperly torqued – all the coolant was gone! So I had to wait for an empty truck to return for my ride out. And wait I did; maybe an hour? And it wasn’t one of the Penguins, but a ranch neighbor, with the ranch owner-riding shotgun. Speaking of shotgun, he moved his rifle from the rear seat (what is this: can’t have rifle racks in CA anymore?) I was so glad they brought me out – it was getting awfully lonesome out there. Again.
The ride back out in this 4wd pickup was quite a treat – we slid most of the way; no wonder it took so long for them to come back for me as they no doubt needed to help everyone else.
After the thank you I left to find my old check-in spot, as I need to close the ranch’s southwest entrance and let out the corralled horses. From there I was able to get back to my apartment before darkness to rinse off all the mud of my failed access attempt, plus the gorp that was on the loaner bike.
We parked under/near some oak trees, and was asked to take a pick or shovel. I asked if we were going to be long -deck shoes do not make good work boots - and he said no, we’d be done in 20 minutes (warning #1).
Hiking down the trail ¼ mile, we find this 200-foot uphill with a fairly good rain rut. As we begin to distribute the soil, rocks and sticks for optimum traction and removal of obstacles, I regret not bringing my gloves. About an hour later we had made it passable for B riders. I did manage to get two blisters, so laugh with me farm boy.
Another group of three guys had staged at a ranch further up the road; they came by and were finishing up arrowing, asking if we wanted to do a small loop. “Sure!” On our way back with two wheels, we had attempted our difficult, newly manicured hill. Number two up, the DS coordinator, lost his momentum and like fools we all were right behind him, and had to turn around and try again; except me – I though I could restart there and make it up a bit more. I did, but not much beyond the next bend. On our second try, all but two made it up (yes I did, farm boy), and the others went around.
We loaded up and went to the main ranch for more trail marking, although it was not necessary as there were 3x as many hands as were needed.
The next day, instructions were to show at the sign up for assignments at 6 am. Other than your normal disorganization, things got off to a start, and signups/check-ins began promptly at 7am. This is where our future industry leaders develop their leadership skills – anything goes.
Walking the parking lot revealed many trailers and motor homes; some camped in their vans and pickups. The pre-registered 330-rider limit was reached weeks ago, but with the weather changing I would think some would bail - more on that later.
I left shortly after 7am, following the fuel trailer; it had several 55-gallon barrels of Union 76 (rolling bomb) and manual pumps. The tarp was not fastened properly but one stop to fix it and we went over the grade to one of the ranches. It was a bit tacky on the dirt road, but nothing alarming - yet. It was getting windy, though, with storm clouds threatening.
Entering the main ranch, our intent was to park near and stage out of the BBQ area, ~2 miles in from the paved country road and the ranch’s main entrance. Asking other drivers if my 2wd pickup could make it, they said to give it a try (warning #2). I was able to get a respectable 1-mile or so in, but could not maintain enough momentum to carry me up a sweeping incline; it’s good I couldn’t go beyond as there were other inclines far more difficult, let alone the drive back out if I could make it in. I have some 4wd skills from my youth (lots of speed?), which were well used to get me back to safety at the main entrance. It was easier to ride the loaner bike in but now I couldn’t change out of my riding gear to work the BBQ and was assigned (warning #3) to the ranch check-in on the remote side of the ranch, about another 4 miles to the southwest.
By this time the cloud cover was fully developed. Did I mention it already rained the night before? Just the day before, Saturday, it was so dusty that it was annoying, but now pleasantly tacky, yet the second storm front was threatening to drench us all.
The club’s assigned ranch-leader took six of us on bikes to the far end, where I was to be stationed, and was going to arrow the course on their way back after leaving me there. On this one last downhill I’m thinking, “the DS riders are coming up this, and with DOT tires?” - more on that to come.
Now there I was at my assigned station, on some ranch entrance I had never been to. My leader told me two things before his departure: “I will send you a relief/replacement in an hour or so; no more than two, then you are free to ride the course back”. Then after that I receive my one and only firm instruction – “check for a dot/sticker on the back of each entrant’s helmet, then let them in”. With that, my escorts scoot back onto the course to set stakes and arrows. As I hear the whine of two strokes and the thundering of thumpers diminish in the distance, I begin to think, what country road is this in front of me? Wouldn’t someone want to know besides me? What are the alternatives if the course beyond my check-in turns into an impassable bottleneck? Where does this country road lead? What about the other direction? Speaking of direction, which direction are they coming from? And what are the club member’s cell phone numbers I might call? So many questions, and the two dogs that joined me from a nearby house hadn’t a clue…
About 20-minutes later, the first pair of riders come thru. Other than one stalling in the rocky creek behind me, they sped right on up to the ranch and beyond. Then there was a huge wave of riders who came in – likely half of the entrants (I quickly lost track); a real mixed bag, but all seemed to be enjoying themselves; very few if any came back, calling it quits or asking for a way around. With the help of a few of them, I was able to learn which was the right way back to town, and the other being the unplanned bypass to the BBQ.
Since the rain had picked up to the point of being steady, the second wave fared much worse a fate than the first – very few riders made it thru the hill climb, although most wanted to make the BBQ; it was good I finally had my directions correct. And even better I had wore my wet weather gear ‘cuz it was getting cold standing there.
It was getting rather lonesome about 2pm; one of the dogs was cranky and wouldn’t have me any longer. By 3pm my leader and crew had swept the course backwards, and assisted those who needed help getting back out. Joining up, he led us up the road to the gas stop, then the main entrance of the ranch, all the while being pelted on the cheeks by the rain, at highway speeds. Upon reaching the BBQ, my loaner bike was pinging – I suspected the wet weather had changed the jetting requirements, but not so (more later).
After my fill (x3) of tri tip, we put our hands to the tarps, chairs and tables, loading them on to the dozen 4wd pickups present. My loaner bike wouldn’t start. “What? Little compression?” Turns out the extended ride on the road had loosened a head bolt I may have improperly torqued – all the coolant was gone! So I had to wait for an empty truck to return for my ride out. And wait I did; maybe an hour? And it wasn’t one of the Penguins, but a ranch neighbor, with the ranch owner-riding shotgun. Speaking of shotgun, he moved his rifle from the rear seat (what is this: can’t have rifle racks in CA anymore?) I was so glad they brought me out – it was getting awfully lonesome out there. Again.
The ride back out in this 4wd pickup was quite a treat – we slid most of the way; no wonder it took so long for them to come back for me as they no doubt needed to help everyone else.
After the thank you I left to find my old check-in spot, as I need to close the ranch’s southwest entrance and let out the corralled horses. From there I was able to get back to my apartment before darkness to rinse off all the mud of my failed access attempt, plus the gorp that was on the loaner bike.
