Affording a 3-day weekend allowed myself and others to gather at one of central California’s coast premiere events. I was to arrive earlier in the day but with a misunderstanding of wsmc831’s comments thought he was only to attend Sunday’s event. Turns out he did in fact show with a friend and had a day’s worth of riding, which I found out while wandering thru the event’s organizer’s camp – the latter were out working the course.
About that time a handsome fellow approached us, asking about the camping and campsites. He happened to have a DRN hat, of which when I questioned its source he mentioned it being a gift from his girlfriend, off of an internet site she frequents. His name is Buddy, and Firelilly (Mini) the giver of the hat. After introducing myself, we decided to wander back towards the entrance and establish a stake, a wagon circle for the DRNers at the camping overflow area.
One of the organizers came to check on the situation, seemingly upset, asking who had let us into the area prematurely. And seeing we knew nothing of it he went off rambling to himself as if to solve the mystery.
As Buddy and I were setting up, his new trailer-toy hauler and my tent, none other than the tall logger from the north, our own Paul Bunyan, NVRFNSH, pulls in his quad cab, long-bed diesel, 4WD with the mobile Hilton in tow. Now he is not intending to but readily displays his confidence in maneuvering his giddy up like a seasoned 18-wheeler truck driver; nonetheless I came away impressed, and haven’t seen like man-handling of machinery since coming off of the farm.
Others wandered in on their minutes, some after dark (sp?): Jonala; later his brother; Justine and Karna (did I get it right?), Getometca. There were others later and next day, but I was too busy helping the club with the events to have the time to introduce my ever-so-humble self.
Having the hunger of a man on the road my fixings for the evening was taking shape on the camp stove: a formed burger (natural beef!) between slices of (dare I say these days) French bread. It’s funny how something so bland can be scrumptious in the wild. I took my hand-held dinner over to Jonala as he was firing up his grill. We chatted as he turned his thinly sliced and marinated meat, while efficiently heated some canned string beans with the residual heat.
Later that evening Getometca puts together a multi-course meal for all to enjoy – what a champ. As the crowd dwindles, Farmer John comes in NVR’s trailer as I’m about to leave, but gives us some entertaining stories of his adventures and exploits. I’m on the edge of my seat the whole time, but at midnight we call it a – uh – night.
It was downright cold outside, and NVR was kind enough to offer up some square footage if I was so inclined, but decided to “rough it” in my tent, but told him not to be surprised if I wiggle in for some warmth if need be. Turns out I was plenty warm in my zero-degree bag once my toes and hands caught up with the rest of my body.
In the morning I poked my head out of the tent to see a winter wonderland on the thin. I say thin ‘cuz there’s this frost over everything. Being from the colder part of the state I gave it a measuring-stick approach to the temperature by blowing out a lung’s worth. It went 2 feet. That translates into 25 degrees F. And I was told later it was as low as 23! I haven’t lost it.
Since I wasn’t riding the piglet but rather volunteered to assist the promoting club, those of us doing so were asked to arrive at nine-o’clock to receive our assignments. Jonala and NVR were to be at an observation check at 11, me at check #5. As we returned back to camp, the others were busy about their ways, getting ready for the enduro. And once they were off, we let out a sigh of relief, a-la empty nesters. Those who arrived in the morning were Ggoja, Mcassle, Deano and Fred.
As it turned out I was assigned to work the same check with wsmc831. He drove up to the spot, and I followed. It was at the base of a long, whooped-out downhill just after a stream crossing and before the gas stop. My assignment was to log in all of the rider numbers vs. their arrival minute.
After some 30-minutes of diddle-daddling, the first wave came thru, then another and so on until our own cam in. the first was Mcassle, defending his last year’s takings of the 4 stroke C honors. He was pleased with his progress so far and appreciated the encouragement. Then (not in this order?) Ggoja came on thru and burned my check; sorry guy, but those things happened – besides, it’s part of the learning process. I missed Deano and Fred somehow. Justine and Karna were a team on it, and Getometca had eyes of determination. It’s sure amusing how we show ourselves through our facial expressions.
Following the closing of the check, Mark, a club member, led me up past the gas stop to pull arrows, stakes, and wrong-way postings. After 40 some odd minutes of this he realizes we were into another section and those assigned did not do their job, but we were doing it for them. As the late afternoon was coming upon us, he calls it quits.
Later a familiar member, The Eel, had scoped upon our camp. He had joined up Jonala and NVR at their observation check. We agreed to meet up for the volunteer’s BBQ. It was dark by then, and I used a flashlight to do my traveling between the campsites. Notwithstanding, we were able to use some fine cabernet with our BBQ roast, beans and red potato side. We called it an early night at 9:30 seeing tomorrow’s key time would be an early 8am.
I ended up not getting all the sleep I needed, and struggled to start the loaner bike in the chill of the morning, after dusting off the white frost. Eventually it started and I manned the spark arrester poker, while the Ranger barked off the RPM for the sound test vs. bike models. We had one spark arrester-less fail, and three bikes too loud, above 96 db.
I was to return at noon to join another check team, but they had already left before the pre-determined meeting time. Instead I checked yesterday’s results and they are as follows (sorry to the rest of you not listed here – I do not know your last names): Deano, Fred, Ggoja: 1st, 2nd, and 8th Vet C. (Jake: not bad for you first try!) Mcassle: first C 4-stroke. I then hung around the finish and handed out finisher pins. It came as a surprise to Jonala and The Eel when I slid there’s underneath their glove, but became concerned when NVR, well, never came thru the finish. I was relieved to find him back at camp, having succumbed to armpump.
About that time a handsome fellow approached us, asking about the camping and campsites. He happened to have a DRN hat, of which when I questioned its source he mentioned it being a gift from his girlfriend, off of an internet site she frequents. His name is Buddy, and Firelilly (Mini) the giver of the hat. After introducing myself, we decided to wander back towards the entrance and establish a stake, a wagon circle for the DRNers at the camping overflow area.
One of the organizers came to check on the situation, seemingly upset, asking who had let us into the area prematurely. And seeing we knew nothing of it he went off rambling to himself as if to solve the mystery.
As Buddy and I were setting up, his new trailer-toy hauler and my tent, none other than the tall logger from the north, our own Paul Bunyan, NVRFNSH, pulls in his quad cab, long-bed diesel, 4WD with the mobile Hilton in tow. Now he is not intending to but readily displays his confidence in maneuvering his giddy up like a seasoned 18-wheeler truck driver; nonetheless I came away impressed, and haven’t seen like man-handling of machinery since coming off of the farm.
Others wandered in on their minutes, some after dark (sp?): Jonala; later his brother; Justine and Karna (did I get it right?), Getometca. There were others later and next day, but I was too busy helping the club with the events to have the time to introduce my ever-so-humble self.
Having the hunger of a man on the road my fixings for the evening was taking shape on the camp stove: a formed burger (natural beef!) between slices of (dare I say these days) French bread. It’s funny how something so bland can be scrumptious in the wild. I took my hand-held dinner over to Jonala as he was firing up his grill. We chatted as he turned his thinly sliced and marinated meat, while efficiently heated some canned string beans with the residual heat.
Later that evening Getometca puts together a multi-course meal for all to enjoy – what a champ. As the crowd dwindles, Farmer John comes in NVR’s trailer as I’m about to leave, but gives us some entertaining stories of his adventures and exploits. I’m on the edge of my seat the whole time, but at midnight we call it a – uh – night.
It was downright cold outside, and NVR was kind enough to offer up some square footage if I was so inclined, but decided to “rough it” in my tent, but told him not to be surprised if I wiggle in for some warmth if need be. Turns out I was plenty warm in my zero-degree bag once my toes and hands caught up with the rest of my body.
In the morning I poked my head out of the tent to see a winter wonderland on the thin. I say thin ‘cuz there’s this frost over everything. Being from the colder part of the state I gave it a measuring-stick approach to the temperature by blowing out a lung’s worth. It went 2 feet. That translates into 25 degrees F. And I was told later it was as low as 23! I haven’t lost it.
Since I wasn’t riding the piglet but rather volunteered to assist the promoting club, those of us doing so were asked to arrive at nine-o’clock to receive our assignments. Jonala and NVR were to be at an observation check at 11, me at check #5. As we returned back to camp, the others were busy about their ways, getting ready for the enduro. And once they were off, we let out a sigh of relief, a-la empty nesters. Those who arrived in the morning were Ggoja, Mcassle, Deano and Fred.
As it turned out I was assigned to work the same check with wsmc831. He drove up to the spot, and I followed. It was at the base of a long, whooped-out downhill just after a stream crossing and before the gas stop. My assignment was to log in all of the rider numbers vs. their arrival minute.
After some 30-minutes of diddle-daddling, the first wave came thru, then another and so on until our own cam in. the first was Mcassle, defending his last year’s takings of the 4 stroke C honors. He was pleased with his progress so far and appreciated the encouragement. Then (not in this order?) Ggoja came on thru and burned my check; sorry guy, but those things happened – besides, it’s part of the learning process. I missed Deano and Fred somehow. Justine and Karna were a team on it, and Getometca had eyes of determination. It’s sure amusing how we show ourselves through our facial expressions.
Following the closing of the check, Mark, a club member, led me up past the gas stop to pull arrows, stakes, and wrong-way postings. After 40 some odd minutes of this he realizes we were into another section and those assigned did not do their job, but we were doing it for them. As the late afternoon was coming upon us, he calls it quits.
Later a familiar member, The Eel, had scoped upon our camp. He had joined up Jonala and NVR at their observation check. We agreed to meet up for the volunteer’s BBQ. It was dark by then, and I used a flashlight to do my traveling between the campsites. Notwithstanding, we were able to use some fine cabernet with our BBQ roast, beans and red potato side. We called it an early night at 9:30 seeing tomorrow’s key time would be an early 8am.
I ended up not getting all the sleep I needed, and struggled to start the loaner bike in the chill of the morning, after dusting off the white frost. Eventually it started and I manned the spark arrester poker, while the Ranger barked off the RPM for the sound test vs. bike models. We had one spark arrester-less fail, and three bikes too loud, above 96 db.
I was to return at noon to join another check team, but they had already left before the pre-determined meeting time. Instead I checked yesterday’s results and they are as follows (sorry to the rest of you not listed here – I do not know your last names): Deano, Fred, Ggoja: 1st, 2nd, and 8th Vet C. (Jake: not bad for you first try!) Mcassle: first C 4-stroke. I then hung around the finish and handed out finisher pins. It came as a surprise to Jonala and The Eel when I slid there’s underneath their glove, but became concerned when NVR, well, never came thru the finish. I was relieved to find him back at camp, having succumbed to armpump.
