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Ride Report: 2006 Moab in May
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[QUOTE="Tony Eeds, post: 1075182, member: 32023"] L+03 - Saturday, May 13, 2006 Breakfast was again at the Moab Diner. A real habit was forming here . . . Slickrock was to be the morning adventure, followed up by a trip up Kane Creek slated for the afternoon. Wally was expected to arrive today, so I was on the phone attempting to locate him. Cingular cell coverage stinks in Moab and I was having trouble connecting with him. A message from the evening before assured me that he was coming, but we could not seem to connect real time to determine a meeting spot. Usually it is easy to spot someone with a motorcycle, but not in Moab as they were everywhere and of every description. Well, contact would have to wait as Slickrock loomed ahead. Three dollars at the gate and we were soon in the parking lot gearing up. There were folks everywhere! This was clearly going to be more crowded than our usual Moab ride. I had chosen my KTM for the days adventures as my XR had proven too heavy to want to fight on Slickrock and Kane Creek was slated for the afternoon. Steve, Tim and Roger were DSing it as they were slating shopping for the afternoon and would ride on out of Kane Creek to 191 to somewhat shorten the journey. More about Kane Creek later . . . If you have been to Moab and not ridden Slickrock, you have NOT been to Moab. Slickrock is Moab and we were finally going to ride there. Gene and I had talked about it for two years and we were finally going to “just do it.” Situated just above Moab, it has long been a mecca for jeeps, motorcycles and mountain bikes. There was a slight knot in my stomach wondering what our reception would be. For many years we had heard (and I have experienced) the “attitude” of mountain bikers, now we were going experience it first hand. If you have not heard of Slickrock, what rock have you been under? Traction is off the map, like riding on acres and acres of 40 grit sandpaper. Wheel spin does not exist, traction on a 30-degree cross slope is normally perilous at best. At Slickrock, cross slope is inconsequential. Geared up we headed out, only to encounter a maneuver that nearly unnerved me. A 180-degree S turn on a 30-degree cross slope named Faith in Friction! Clearly they were separating the men from the boys. BTW, no disrespect ladies because any woman that will hang st Slickrock is one of the guys in my book. Deep breaths and walking the obstacle ensued (I have zero . . . ZERO shame) and we were on our way. Warily I wondered what I would face. Little did I know that I had passed the test because although there were many obstacles left, all paled to that initial test. Slickrock was, is and probably always will be crowded with folks and we encountered folks every few hundred yards. The vast majority (99.99999%) were on mountain bikes, but they left their attitudes in the parking lot. We were all taking the same test and everyone was passing . . . whoo hooo! The climbs and descents were designed for motorcycles and the turns for mountain bikes, so everyone was having to stay on their toes. Crest a rise too fast and you could find yourself in trouble quickly. I imagined that Enchanted Rock could be like this, if only we were allowed to ride there. Slickrock Bike Trail crosses Hell’s Revenge Jeep Trail and we were treated to watching jeeps scale almost vertical obstacles at zero miles per hour. It was fun to watch, but too slow for my blood. Wanting to see what was over the next rise, we were soon on our way. Slickrock is a 10 + mile loop, so it wasn’t long before we found ourselves back at the start of the loop. Opting for using Hell’s Revenge as the exit route, we descended Mini Loin’s Back to the parking area adjacent to the entrance gate. I finally made contact with Wally and we agreed to meet at the McDonalds as Kane Creek Road intersected with 191 at a light there. Loaded up, we headed off the face of the rock toward destiny. McDonalds served up a few munchies, Wally was found and introduced and we were off to Kane Creek. About 10 miles south of the intersection, the parking area would serve as the launching point for one of my personal favorite rides. Wally geared up and we headed out. Kane Creek starts as a wide (half mile +) canyon that progressively shrinks in width to barely more that the water at points. Along the way, we would cross the water again and again as we climbed upwards in the canyon. Trees, insects and humidity played tricks with our minds. How did this oasis end up in the middle of the desert? The water appears to flow year round through the creek as evidenced by the abundance of life along the creek. Gene warned everyone about the location of his submarine attempt of 2005, and properly warned, we scooted through the Salt Cedar along the creek. The trail was easy to follow and at points even branched into many trails as Kane Creek is a heavily-traveled area. Kane Creek started on the west end in a large valley and progressively got narrower as we moved farther into the valley. Trees began to appear as they began to find a reliable water source. Back and forth we zoomed, splashing through countless (above 50 by my count) creek crossings. Soft sand interspersed with rocks kept us honest as we traveled eastward into the throat of the canyon. Glimpses of the beauty appeared within the canopy of the overhanging trees, belying the harshness of the surrounding desert. As the trail continued upwards the trees gave way to the vertical walls of the canyon and only clung intermittently in crags within the walls. Soon we reached a last water crossing where Gene thought he could save time by riding up the stream bed to the last crossing point. Engine sounds echoed through the canyon as I listened to them below me, out of sight, in the creekbed. Wishing them luck, I continued up the trail to the crossing and continued on to the bridge across the canyon, where I encountered Roger. He too had taken the “high road.” Soon everyone appeared around the corner of the canyon wall and we continued onward. Reaching the turn around point for all but Steve, Tim and Roger, we encountered an obstacle that had long confounded Gene and me. Dave quickly pointed out a line that would result in guaranteed success and topped off the lesson by riding the line. Wow, my hat was and is off to him! Not to be outdone, Steve fired up his 650 and made the 2/3rds point of the climb before regrouping for the final assault. Roger and Tim assaulted the wall as well and soon all three bikes were at the top ready to continue on. All of our antics were under the watchful eye of a bunch of wheelers that had cleared the obstacle just before our arrival. Waving goodby to Steve, Tim and Roger the balance of the crew turned about to return to the trucks. Before taking off, we added a bit of air to my front tire and “hoped” that the slime would do its magic. Everyone wanted me in front in case my tire went flat, so off I went leading us down the canyon walls, chasing the sun toward the Colorado River. Gingerly creating smooth lines between the rocks, I zigged and zagged down the trail like a drunken sailor, turning a ten-mile ride into a fifteen-mile ride. At one point I rounded a blind corner to find a LARGE rock in my path. I warily attempted to use the face of the rock as a berm. Hah! No such luck. My front tire executed the proper line, but my back tire caught the lip and went right instead of left. Executing a 180, I landed on the left side of the trail on a berm with my tires above me and we (my bike and I) sprawled across the trail. It felt like I had been the business end of an eggbeater. Gene asked if I needed help between bouts of laughter. I can’t point any fingers though, as I was laughing too. Soon I was back upright and we were soon back at the trucks and loading up for the trip to Moab. Twelve miles of dirt and asphalt roads were between us, cold beer and hot showers. Dinner was at La Hacienda again I told you it was good . . . [/QUOTE]
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Ride Report: 2006 Moab in May
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