I wasn’t particularly looking forward to the 5-hour long, 250+mile one-way drive, but rather to ride in the pines after being off of a bike since April; more so now that I have my own horse back together again, Eric Gorr low-to mid-porting and all. Yes, the loaner went back to its rightful owner, but not before connecting him to an interested buyer and new owner – it was returned in better condition than when I first laid my hands on it back in early March, and sold before he got it home. Another win-win-win. Now back to Kennedy Meadows.
Arriving at 11am on the 4th brought disappointment at first due to missing the first group (The Eel, 2strok4fun, Scar Tissue, PvtJoker) to head out on a loop, and that by a half hour. I hung out with the likes of Kiwi and dirtjunkie (DJ), whilst they tweaked on the latter’s CRF for a good part of a few hours, and hung a hammock. As the afternoon turned into evening it was looking like our late-day loop would turn into a night ride, so the two suggested we rest before venturing out. As much as I tried, true rest would escape me with all the other dirt bikers coming and going, although it appeared DJ & Kiwi may have got some shut eye based on the silence at their campsite.
Seeing it would be a while before our outing I heated up some home pre-BBQ’d ribs – the real thick kind, and chomped on an ear of corn while the ribs came up to temperature. Mmmm, mmm.
Around 5-ish, the group of four returned from their loop, which ended up being longer (aren’t they all?) than they thought it would be, out into the netherlands of the Kern Plateau west side. Turns out they did a bunch of lifting over downed logs and the like on trails not yet on the maintenance schedule. Methinks maybe it was good to miss all that. 2strok4 came in with a flat, and Eel had to bum some fuel; all came back dusty and tired.
A call came from DJ “we leave in 15 minutes”. With that I scrambled to fit my gear and accoutrements for the evening outing. Before we left Herman the German joined in; Kiwi decided to stay behind – so now I knew we’d be back at least before midnight!
My bike idled just fine with an additional ½ turn out with the airscrew. This was following three complete heat cycles from an (earlier in the week) assembly. The time had now arrived to apply a real, dynamic load for a thorough, prudent break in.
First thing apparent was the smoothness off of idle, into the midrange – good job Eric. Now I don’t know why I was expecting the front end to reach for the sky – that’s alright, though: I do not want a bike like that, and would certainly prefer it this way for the type of riding near my new living on the central coast of California. Off of the bottom, there is a small bit more pull – just right – into the preexisting thick middle. Testing the higher revs on the next day proved it to still be there too, although with less snap; just right - wouldn’t change a thing.
Our destination this fine evening was Monache Meadow, at the base or not far from Olancha Peak, which is above the tree line. Looking forward to a ride, it came to a surprise we headed off on a round about way to Beach Ridge trail, something I did not look forward to as this trail and its embedded rocks send me into headache mode. We then connected to Albanita (a big favorite), then Blackrock connector, where we lost Herman (in the lead).
As we turned left towards Monache and a few miles shy, we saw a couple on a dual sport bike and DJ mentioned to them if they had seen the speedy German shoot by. With that we continued on and passed yet another beautiful meadow. In the corner of my eye, some 100+ yards away I saw this big fuzzy thing: a black bear! Other than his watching us as we passed, he quickly returned to his foraging. DJ missed the sighting.
As we descended into our destination while entering in on the 4-wheel drive access trail, we beheld the valley before us, and DJ cries out while I’m adjacent “ain’t that a scene”. And it was a scene – Monache Meadow before us, with the south fork of the Kern River meandering thru.
As we parked by the major crossing, the place where TTRGuy did his spectacular splash and subsequent crossing two years ago, DJ attempted to make friends with another’s dog, but the pooch would have nothing of it. The couple was friendly but on their way out. As DJ and I were finishing up our delicious dried bananas and preparing likewise to leave, Herman pulled in, and after some discussion over the virtues of wide-ratio transmissions and electric start, we witnessed a 4-wheel drive cross the river before us with ease. About that time the sun set, and we were 18 trail miles from camp. Uh, let’s go guys! Ok?
Returning on Blackrock Trail connector eventually tied us into Jackass Trail. By then I was really using my headlight, all the while thinking Bigfoot could just stick his arm out and dismount little ol’ me. You see, DJ and Herman were moving along at a good clip, and even if I were holding back I wasn’t), they’d still leave me in the dust, although they were kind enough to wait up every 5 miles or so.
Darkness was really settling in when I began to wonder at times if I was still on the trail, so I clicked it down a gear and really took my time, not seeing well with my standard front-mounted headlight pointing uselessly up then down (and tinted lens, nonetheless); this would have been much better with my visor-mounted, light-where-I-look getup.
Miles later and when I was just about to click it down a gear again, there was a small wooden bridge to cross – signs of civilization! And arrival at the blessed campsite it was. We arrived at 9pm, and had left for this loop shortly after 5:30 - 35 miles in all.
Not being in the mood for early bedtime, there was a gathering of the DRNers around a fire - fine conversation and all. At first I felt odd stuffing my face alone with my allotment of junk food - tortilla chips and salsa - in front of the encircled group, but since no one took up my offer, I continued to finish off the late-evening snack/rations to great satisfaction. And it surely hit the spot. “Burp!” Ah, that felt good, but no one heard for the crackling of the wood on the fire, lest they think me as low life. Then to my comfort it came time to top it off with some varietal grape juice of the fermented persuasion, and others had given in to the invitation of sipping this sensation: the zinfandel was the first to go, then the cabernet. Ah, the good life: Fine campfire, fine wine, and fine friends.
As midnight approached it was time for Scar to put the fire out and retire. But before laying my head down I had to donn my spectacles to take in a few moments of a star-filled sky.
Not being one to sleep in, breakfast eggs were prepared for the upcoming excursion with yet-to-arrive Old and Slow (O&S). The sun had just poked above the ridge, and with the time I began to disassemble and pack camp for a latter-day departure.
An hour later O&S arrived, and after his unload we sail off on Mahogany Trail, Rattlesnake and Beach connector to Bonita Meadows, where we took our first break. The meadow was living up to its name, with magenta flowers filling our eyes to a grass green backing..
We headed out on a bigger loop around and beyond the meadow to take a spur up to Sherman Pass Vista. Before we got to the spur I intended to spend some engine time in the middle RPMs, but was distracted by the beauty of yet another meadow; as my eyes tuned back to the trail, I crested a mount and saw a 2-3’ log in the immediate front with an opening cut on the extreme left, and the trail going through. Whoops! Too much speed and too little attention = too late to save it! Trying to negotiate the turn was futile as I augured into the down face of the mount - bonehead maneuver. We stopped again a 1/2 mile beyond at a trail split, and realized my knee was twisted at the aforementioned get off – not good. Standing seemed fine, but any shifting while sitting was painful. We did the Sherman Pass Lookout anyways, since we had come thus far, and then took the spectacular trails back to Bonita.
A lean over while backtracking on Mahogany confirmed my condition: no afternoon loop on Little Horse and Upper Beach Trails this summer - me both sad and hurt.
We arrived back at camp close to noon. Kiwi and company was getting ready for their afternoon marathon; some innocent victims were lined up. As I said good bys, O&S was considering joining the trek to Kernville.
Arriving at 11am on the 4th brought disappointment at first due to missing the first group (The Eel, 2strok4fun, Scar Tissue, PvtJoker) to head out on a loop, and that by a half hour. I hung out with the likes of Kiwi and dirtjunkie (DJ), whilst they tweaked on the latter’s CRF for a good part of a few hours, and hung a hammock. As the afternoon turned into evening it was looking like our late-day loop would turn into a night ride, so the two suggested we rest before venturing out. As much as I tried, true rest would escape me with all the other dirt bikers coming and going, although it appeared DJ & Kiwi may have got some shut eye based on the silence at their campsite.
Seeing it would be a while before our outing I heated up some home pre-BBQ’d ribs – the real thick kind, and chomped on an ear of corn while the ribs came up to temperature. Mmmm, mmm.
Around 5-ish, the group of four returned from their loop, which ended up being longer (aren’t they all?) than they thought it would be, out into the netherlands of the Kern Plateau west side. Turns out they did a bunch of lifting over downed logs and the like on trails not yet on the maintenance schedule. Methinks maybe it was good to miss all that. 2strok4 came in with a flat, and Eel had to bum some fuel; all came back dusty and tired.
A call came from DJ “we leave in 15 minutes”. With that I scrambled to fit my gear and accoutrements for the evening outing. Before we left Herman the German joined in; Kiwi decided to stay behind – so now I knew we’d be back at least before midnight!
My bike idled just fine with an additional ½ turn out with the airscrew. This was following three complete heat cycles from an (earlier in the week) assembly. The time had now arrived to apply a real, dynamic load for a thorough, prudent break in.
First thing apparent was the smoothness off of idle, into the midrange – good job Eric. Now I don’t know why I was expecting the front end to reach for the sky – that’s alright, though: I do not want a bike like that, and would certainly prefer it this way for the type of riding near my new living on the central coast of California. Off of the bottom, there is a small bit more pull – just right – into the preexisting thick middle. Testing the higher revs on the next day proved it to still be there too, although with less snap; just right - wouldn’t change a thing.
Our destination this fine evening was Monache Meadow, at the base or not far from Olancha Peak, which is above the tree line. Looking forward to a ride, it came to a surprise we headed off on a round about way to Beach Ridge trail, something I did not look forward to as this trail and its embedded rocks send me into headache mode. We then connected to Albanita (a big favorite), then Blackrock connector, where we lost Herman (in the lead).
As we turned left towards Monache and a few miles shy, we saw a couple on a dual sport bike and DJ mentioned to them if they had seen the speedy German shoot by. With that we continued on and passed yet another beautiful meadow. In the corner of my eye, some 100+ yards away I saw this big fuzzy thing: a black bear! Other than his watching us as we passed, he quickly returned to his foraging. DJ missed the sighting.
As we descended into our destination while entering in on the 4-wheel drive access trail, we beheld the valley before us, and DJ cries out while I’m adjacent “ain’t that a scene”. And it was a scene – Monache Meadow before us, with the south fork of the Kern River meandering thru.
As we parked by the major crossing, the place where TTRGuy did his spectacular splash and subsequent crossing two years ago, DJ attempted to make friends with another’s dog, but the pooch would have nothing of it. The couple was friendly but on their way out. As DJ and I were finishing up our delicious dried bananas and preparing likewise to leave, Herman pulled in, and after some discussion over the virtues of wide-ratio transmissions and electric start, we witnessed a 4-wheel drive cross the river before us with ease. About that time the sun set, and we were 18 trail miles from camp. Uh, let’s go guys! Ok?
Returning on Blackrock Trail connector eventually tied us into Jackass Trail. By then I was really using my headlight, all the while thinking Bigfoot could just stick his arm out and dismount little ol’ me. You see, DJ and Herman were moving along at a good clip, and even if I were holding back I wasn’t), they’d still leave me in the dust, although they were kind enough to wait up every 5 miles or so.
Darkness was really settling in when I began to wonder at times if I was still on the trail, so I clicked it down a gear and really took my time, not seeing well with my standard front-mounted headlight pointing uselessly up then down (and tinted lens, nonetheless); this would have been much better with my visor-mounted, light-where-I-look getup.
Miles later and when I was just about to click it down a gear again, there was a small wooden bridge to cross – signs of civilization! And arrival at the blessed campsite it was. We arrived at 9pm, and had left for this loop shortly after 5:30 - 35 miles in all.
Not being in the mood for early bedtime, there was a gathering of the DRNers around a fire - fine conversation and all. At first I felt odd stuffing my face alone with my allotment of junk food - tortilla chips and salsa - in front of the encircled group, but since no one took up my offer, I continued to finish off the late-evening snack/rations to great satisfaction. And it surely hit the spot. “Burp!” Ah, that felt good, but no one heard for the crackling of the wood on the fire, lest they think me as low life. Then to my comfort it came time to top it off with some varietal grape juice of the fermented persuasion, and others had given in to the invitation of sipping this sensation: the zinfandel was the first to go, then the cabernet. Ah, the good life: Fine campfire, fine wine, and fine friends.
As midnight approached it was time for Scar to put the fire out and retire. But before laying my head down I had to donn my spectacles to take in a few moments of a star-filled sky.
Not being one to sleep in, breakfast eggs were prepared for the upcoming excursion with yet-to-arrive Old and Slow (O&S). The sun had just poked above the ridge, and with the time I began to disassemble and pack camp for a latter-day departure.
An hour later O&S arrived, and after his unload we sail off on Mahogany Trail, Rattlesnake and Beach connector to Bonita Meadows, where we took our first break. The meadow was living up to its name, with magenta flowers filling our eyes to a grass green backing..
We headed out on a bigger loop around and beyond the meadow to take a spur up to Sherman Pass Vista. Before we got to the spur I intended to spend some engine time in the middle RPMs, but was distracted by the beauty of yet another meadow; as my eyes tuned back to the trail, I crested a mount and saw a 2-3’ log in the immediate front with an opening cut on the extreme left, and the trail going through. Whoops! Too much speed and too little attention = too late to save it! Trying to negotiate the turn was futile as I augured into the down face of the mount - bonehead maneuver. We stopped again a 1/2 mile beyond at a trail split, and realized my knee was twisted at the aforementioned get off – not good. Standing seemed fine, but any shifting while sitting was painful. We did the Sherman Pass Lookout anyways, since we had come thus far, and then took the spectacular trails back to Bonita.
A lean over while backtracking on Mahogany confirmed my condition: no afternoon loop on Little Horse and Upper Beach Trails this summer - me both sad and hurt.
We arrived back at camp close to noon. Kiwi and company was getting ready for their afternoon marathon; some innocent victims were lined up. As I said good bys, O&S was considering joining the trek to Kernville.
