Having a number of the local club members does come in handy. Friday evening I call this guy who's in charge of the scheduled ride, and he ain't goin', gives me another's number. The plan made with contact #2 was to meet at his place this morning.
I get there Saturday morning just before the specified time and am thrown back, way back, into my college days by the surroundings. He (Ryan) lives with 6 others in a 5 bedroom bungalow, one of the first three (ancient) houses made in Shell Beach, ~ 1/2 way between Santa Maria and San Luis Obispo. The dwelling has been added on to so may times they've prolly lost track, and the County should condemn it real soon. Nonetheless, the rent is low for the area; by sitting on prime land it was sold to the higest bidder, and the place will be leveled - the acreage split and turned into sub-million-dollar homes starting this summer.
So Ryan comes out to greet me, chewing on his breakfast, a banana, some of it on his still cheeks, and sorts thru his gear on the driveway, looking for his Camelback, which he promply took inside for refilling, but since his bitevalve was missing, he borrowed a roomates (yuck; unless it belonged to a she, but I doubt it). As I followed him inside, the place had things everywhere, just like college roomates are. 1/2-empty beer cans on the table, clothes and books everywhere - flashbacks galore. They do have a nice view of San Luis Obispo Bay, though.
After topping off the borrowed Camelback, we go back outside to load him up. I roll the 1st bike to be found in the garage (WR426) and he politely says that's not his, but his roomates; maybe the one whose Camelback he borrowed and will be placing his lucky lips onto for most of the day, and drawing out water to soothe his thurst with saliva from someone else (yuck x2).
He offers to drive/car pool, so I accept (but I ain't drinking out of that borrowed Camelback which two others used - no, not me: I'll die of thurst 1st.) We load up and skate off to the Cal Poly SLO campus to meet others. You see, he's a member of this club called the Cal Poly Penguins. The club's been in existence since the late 40's, as in 1940 for you young-uns. The college staff gave them this nice shed. I was expecting something dilapidated; a quanson (sp?) hut at best. But their shed had a concrete floor and steel siding, even electricity! Not bad.
There were seven bikes inside; a '97 CR250, another late-model CR250, an older RMX (I'm gonna hafta help that boy - it looks hurtin', and by the looks of it he took a hurtin' in the last ride), and a mid-'90's CR125 in one row; the other row had an old orange/red XRsomething, a DT125, and an early PE400. The latter two are club property (donations) and loaners for visitors other than me; that's right - I'd rather read the paper than ride those things.
I noticed a trend: all of the tires on all bikes - even the newer ones - were worn, like they needed replacement. Now. I can understand, being on a college budget, but bikes are not that easy to come by these days. They even had a stack of worn out tires, free for the taking and use by other club members! Hip.
As Ryan tells me about their club, two other members pull in, Cody and Scott. As I look at these guys, they are but the age of my oldest son, and haven't been shaving many years at all. No doubt they had a thought about the guy (me) with gray hair - prolly haven't even yet ridden with a guy with gray hair...so there.
Cody and Scott are the owners of the nice, newer CRs. They promply dive into mounting a spark arrester on one, then bled the front brake on the other, but before they did the bleeding, they asked Ryan if he was better at this that they; not a good sign of things to come. With that Cody takes a blade ("...uh, shouldn't you use a Phillips?" "...don't have one...") screwdriver to the reservoir cap, he promptly pours fluid from an old metal (!) can into the reservoir - this stuff is laying around for use. Ryan mans the bleeder, and it dribbles onto the concrete, so I uncap a container to catch the excess fluid. Scott and Cody exchange lever-pulling duties while I tap the hose to raise trapped air bubbles. After 15 minutes of this I say "Say: shouldn't... - yes, this little rubber bladder should be removed 1st THEN you fill the reservoir"; all the while they had been emptying the line, putting air in. Duh! So now a 10-minete job turns into 1 hour.
Before the end of the hour, Cody says to Ryan "how did you break in your top end?" "This (300 E/XC) is my first 2-stroke, and I haven't had to put in a new one yet." Thereafter I chimed in, having made myself well-read from Eric Gorr's book "three 10 minute warmups and three 20 minute cool downs, with one easy low-load - no sand nor uphills trail ride." Cody blushed, as if to say "me dumb"; he had one regular trail ride on his new top end. He then took his CR outside and warmed it up for 10 minutes.
Things were buttoned up once the air was bled from the CR, and the two red bikes were loaded. About that time two guys, Pete and Paul (KX250s), rolled in with fat pills (doughnuts) for us all - "no thank you - I already ate" I said. Paul didn't look well - he had celebrated a bit on the hearty side last night. We all know who'd be doing sweep today.
The drive up to Pozo was thru some beautiful backroads; things haven't change there in years. Rolling oaked hills and cattle were often sighted.
As we arrived in the staging area there were but few others. Having to donn every thing available so I won't break my aging body, I made haste not to hold everyone up and got dressed in record time.
The stagin area at Turkey Flat is essentially a wash, overflowing with sand and whooped out. First off I miss my stabilizer, and got arm pump right away, wrestling the sand whoops, but being the stubborn type I'll just hang out fine at my own pace. We took a loop going clockwise, and once out of the wash it got real tight. There were these accelleration/braking bumps going into and out of every corner and short uphill; not to compalin, but you HAD to ride them since the trail was cut on a side of a hill, maybe a foot wide at best - you could not go on the left nor right lip - you WERE in the lip.
The storm from the other day had made traction superb. The only dust was on the wide-cut connector roads. There were plenty of small stream crossings, and it was sure fun to scoot along thru the oak trees.
We quickly found our order: Pete in the front - fast guy on the KX, Ryan - just as fast yet looking out for us stragglers, making sure we made each connector, then the two CR guys, me a distant fifth, and hung-over Paul carrying the rear.
After ~10 miles, Cody says his front tire was low, and still loosing air, so he and Scott call it a day and headed back to camp on the graded road.
As we were well past the half way mark, I saw the sign: "Stairstep. Highly Modified and lifted 4-Wheel Drives Recommended". Now I'm thinking I've been on the Rubicon so can it be all that bad? NVRFNSH and Mr. "call me Mr." WR mentioned this earlier. Was it lengendary? Yes. Not even the best locals go up. It's only somewhat safe to go down, for crying out loud. Everyone does it that way, and not the other. Looking at it from the downhill side, it IS intimidating.
We arrived back at the staging area in no time, and for a local spot - not bad - I'll do it again.
I get there Saturday morning just before the specified time and am thrown back, way back, into my college days by the surroundings. He (Ryan) lives with 6 others in a 5 bedroom bungalow, one of the first three (ancient) houses made in Shell Beach, ~ 1/2 way between Santa Maria and San Luis Obispo. The dwelling has been added on to so may times they've prolly lost track, and the County should condemn it real soon. Nonetheless, the rent is low for the area; by sitting on prime land it was sold to the higest bidder, and the place will be leveled - the acreage split and turned into sub-million-dollar homes starting this summer.
So Ryan comes out to greet me, chewing on his breakfast, a banana, some of it on his still cheeks, and sorts thru his gear on the driveway, looking for his Camelback, which he promply took inside for refilling, but since his bitevalve was missing, he borrowed a roomates (yuck; unless it belonged to a she, but I doubt it). As I followed him inside, the place had things everywhere, just like college roomates are. 1/2-empty beer cans on the table, clothes and books everywhere - flashbacks galore. They do have a nice view of San Luis Obispo Bay, though.
After topping off the borrowed Camelback, we go back outside to load him up. I roll the 1st bike to be found in the garage (WR426) and he politely says that's not his, but his roomates; maybe the one whose Camelback he borrowed and will be placing his lucky lips onto for most of the day, and drawing out water to soothe his thurst with saliva from someone else (yuck x2).
He offers to drive/car pool, so I accept (but I ain't drinking out of that borrowed Camelback which two others used - no, not me: I'll die of thurst 1st.) We load up and skate off to the Cal Poly SLO campus to meet others. You see, he's a member of this club called the Cal Poly Penguins. The club's been in existence since the late 40's, as in 1940 for you young-uns. The college staff gave them this nice shed. I was expecting something dilapidated; a quanson (sp?) hut at best. But their shed had a concrete floor and steel siding, even electricity! Not bad.
There were seven bikes inside; a '97 CR250, another late-model CR250, an older RMX (I'm gonna hafta help that boy - it looks hurtin', and by the looks of it he took a hurtin' in the last ride), and a mid-'90's CR125 in one row; the other row had an old orange/red XRsomething, a DT125, and an early PE400. The latter two are club property (donations) and loaners for visitors other than me; that's right - I'd rather read the paper than ride those things.
I noticed a trend: all of the tires on all bikes - even the newer ones - were worn, like they needed replacement. Now. I can understand, being on a college budget, but bikes are not that easy to come by these days. They even had a stack of worn out tires, free for the taking and use by other club members! Hip.
As Ryan tells me about their club, two other members pull in, Cody and Scott. As I look at these guys, they are but the age of my oldest son, and haven't been shaving many years at all. No doubt they had a thought about the guy (me) with gray hair - prolly haven't even yet ridden with a guy with gray hair...so there.
Cody and Scott are the owners of the nice, newer CRs. They promply dive into mounting a spark arrester on one, then bled the front brake on the other, but before they did the bleeding, they asked Ryan if he was better at this that they; not a good sign of things to come. With that Cody takes a blade ("...uh, shouldn't you use a Phillips?" "...don't have one...") screwdriver to the reservoir cap, he promptly pours fluid from an old metal (!) can into the reservoir - this stuff is laying around for use. Ryan mans the bleeder, and it dribbles onto the concrete, so I uncap a container to catch the excess fluid. Scott and Cody exchange lever-pulling duties while I tap the hose to raise trapped air bubbles. After 15 minutes of this I say "Say: shouldn't... - yes, this little rubber bladder should be removed 1st THEN you fill the reservoir"; all the while they had been emptying the line, putting air in. Duh! So now a 10-minete job turns into 1 hour.
Before the end of the hour, Cody says to Ryan "how did you break in your top end?" "This (300 E/XC) is my first 2-stroke, and I haven't had to put in a new one yet." Thereafter I chimed in, having made myself well-read from Eric Gorr's book "three 10 minute warmups and three 20 minute cool downs, with one easy low-load - no sand nor uphills trail ride." Cody blushed, as if to say "me dumb"; he had one regular trail ride on his new top end. He then took his CR outside and warmed it up for 10 minutes.
Things were buttoned up once the air was bled from the CR, and the two red bikes were loaded. About that time two guys, Pete and Paul (KX250s), rolled in with fat pills (doughnuts) for us all - "no thank you - I already ate" I said. Paul didn't look well - he had celebrated a bit on the hearty side last night. We all know who'd be doing sweep today.
The drive up to Pozo was thru some beautiful backroads; things haven't change there in years. Rolling oaked hills and cattle were often sighted.
As we arrived in the staging area there were but few others. Having to donn every thing available so I won't break my aging body, I made haste not to hold everyone up and got dressed in record time.
The stagin area at Turkey Flat is essentially a wash, overflowing with sand and whooped out. First off I miss my stabilizer, and got arm pump right away, wrestling the sand whoops, but being the stubborn type I'll just hang out fine at my own pace. We took a loop going clockwise, and once out of the wash it got real tight. There were these accelleration/braking bumps going into and out of every corner and short uphill; not to compalin, but you HAD to ride them since the trail was cut on a side of a hill, maybe a foot wide at best - you could not go on the left nor right lip - you WERE in the lip.
The storm from the other day had made traction superb. The only dust was on the wide-cut connector roads. There were plenty of small stream crossings, and it was sure fun to scoot along thru the oak trees.
We quickly found our order: Pete in the front - fast guy on the KX, Ryan - just as fast yet looking out for us stragglers, making sure we made each connector, then the two CR guys, me a distant fifth, and hung-over Paul carrying the rear.
After ~10 miles, Cody says his front tire was low, and still loosing air, so he and Scott call it a day and headed back to camp on the graded road.
As we were well past the half way mark, I saw the sign: "Stairstep. Highly Modified and lifted 4-Wheel Drives Recommended". Now I'm thinking I've been on the Rubicon so can it be all that bad? NVRFNSH and Mr. "call me Mr." WR mentioned this earlier. Was it lengendary? Yes. Not even the best locals go up. It's only somewhat safe to go down, for crying out loud. Everyone does it that way, and not the other. Looking at it from the downhill side, it IS intimidating.
We arrived back at the staging area in no time, and for a local spot - not bad - I'll do it again.
