Disclaimer - Dated March 23,2004
As per Kadie - Report mandatory - therefore I should not be responsible. Signed in black & orange ink - INCA
My sometimes boss, I've put him down a few times, took me to Brashears, Arkansas for the White Rock Enduro Sunday, 3/21/04. This would be a test to see if I would do better than my Grampa Davie, (of Davie and his Dinghy fame), did the last two years. Saturday afternoon I streched out some at the Razorback Riders Club grounds and spent the night in the company of similar companions.
Sunday morning I was out bright and early to get ready for a new adventure. Since I would be near the last row to leave with the KX85 of the club presidents son, 11 year old Jonathan aboard, there was time to check out all the other companions. There were blueberry fields, apple orchards, lemon groves, cabbage patchers and of course fellow pumpkin patchers. On row 10 there was even a Rickshaw. With about 225 entries, one of them must have been a KTM Mike. And so it was that at 8:53, with Jonathan on the small cabbage we headed for the trails amid waves and picture takers. The trails around here are somewhat like Michigan with the difference being that the sand particles are larger. I heard the word rocks mentioned a few times. To leave the valley we crossed Mill Creek on a bridge and headed up the side of the mountain, big hills really. What you basically do is go up one side, over the ridge at the top, down the other side, cross a small stream and repeat. Akin to a Circuit Rider making the rounds to visit MWEISSEN, Tom Dixon and Don Marsh. Jonathan would have a minor delay now and then, so I'd stop to help and make sure everything was OK. Starting up again was a snap with the magic button. At the first check, being manned by fatherandson, we were late by 11 minutes. About 21 miles out the trail splits for the women and youth to head back and the big dogs head for the tougher parts.
Going up and down the hills is a combination of switchbacks, follow the contour and sometimes stright up or down. Many times you follow a wash filled with those big sand particles. Very few move out of the way so it gets rough now and then. The suspension sure is kind to the body and the innards. Things settle down some when the trail picks up a 2TracR and higher gears come into use. There are depressions now and then that hold the latest rainwater, lakes if you will. However, they are not big enough for a 70 marlin. This short easier part is good because I soon turn off into a rather tight and woodsy section that is set at a 24 MPH schedule. The check at the end of this section is somewhat of a surprise. I am travelling in the White Rock Wildlife Management Area, but man, A badger running the clock and turning numbers? Sop now I follow the contour for a while where there are small rivulets every now and then. Some are no more than a tire track across the trail and then some are sloppy and muddy, but the fender92883 does a good job of keeping things under control. When I get to the top of a trail wide enough for quads, there is a sign with an arrow - Fred T - 3 Miles ahead. Goody, goody, now I get some vittles, like a liquid lunch. In the last half mile there is a rather steep downhill and these disc brakes sure help keeping control of the gravity factor. A quick shot of 93 octane and it's off to the trails once more. As I bounce along a gravel road like Michman being chased by the Michelin Man, there is a distraction off to the right. Those of you from the cabbage patch may find this hard to believe, but give it a try. There was a Dog Smitting behind a tree. At the check into the next section I am back on my starting minute. The trail gets a little technical traversing sidehills where a mistake puts you down a 45-degree slope of trees and rocks. By now I'mn acclimated to the locals use of calling big sand particles rocks. The switchbacks aren't highway type curves, but a V. Man, one boo boo and it's WOT. Whack, ouch, touche. As I work my way up a rocky wash, there are spectators around, and that usually means a touhg spot. I must be doiung OK because someone calls out - Wild Bill!. At the top I stop to make the correction that the name is INCA and to use a more accurate adjective than wild. Before I forget, should anyone be interested, my G spot is the unobtrusive black button on the right, and it is a blessing. After going through a logged over area with the mess that is left behind I see what what looks like a green rectangle approaching. There are strange things out in the woods but this turns out to be more like a Vespa with no other than Magoo at the controls. I check out of this tough 10-mile section 28 minutes late and settle in to finish the enduro in one safe piece. The arrows lead out to a pipeline on a ridge and for a while it's some cool 5th. gear operating. This reminds me, is an nzambon a UP model oa Zamboni? After winding down off the hills, it's back across Mill Creek through the water this time and in to the end check before houring out. I have accomplished the goal of doing better than Grampa Davie. And here I am after romping for 52 miles and 4.5 hours over hill and dale. I sure don't look the same as oput of the Factory.
INCA
PS - Young Ted asked me to mention that he had a good time and to say HI to all the Michiganders. Again, INCA
As per Kadie - Report mandatory - therefore I should not be responsible. Signed in black & orange ink - INCA
My sometimes boss, I've put him down a few times, took me to Brashears, Arkansas for the White Rock Enduro Sunday, 3/21/04. This would be a test to see if I would do better than my Grampa Davie, (of Davie and his Dinghy fame), did the last two years. Saturday afternoon I streched out some at the Razorback Riders Club grounds and spent the night in the company of similar companions.
Sunday morning I was out bright and early to get ready for a new adventure. Since I would be near the last row to leave with the KX85 of the club presidents son, 11 year old Jonathan aboard, there was time to check out all the other companions. There were blueberry fields, apple orchards, lemon groves, cabbage patchers and of course fellow pumpkin patchers. On row 10 there was even a Rickshaw. With about 225 entries, one of them must have been a KTM Mike. And so it was that at 8:53, with Jonathan on the small cabbage we headed for the trails amid waves and picture takers. The trails around here are somewhat like Michigan with the difference being that the sand particles are larger. I heard the word rocks mentioned a few times. To leave the valley we crossed Mill Creek on a bridge and headed up the side of the mountain, big hills really. What you basically do is go up one side, over the ridge at the top, down the other side, cross a small stream and repeat. Akin to a Circuit Rider making the rounds to visit MWEISSEN, Tom Dixon and Don Marsh. Jonathan would have a minor delay now and then, so I'd stop to help and make sure everything was OK. Starting up again was a snap with the magic button. At the first check, being manned by fatherandson, we were late by 11 minutes. About 21 miles out the trail splits for the women and youth to head back and the big dogs head for the tougher parts.
Going up and down the hills is a combination of switchbacks, follow the contour and sometimes stright up or down. Many times you follow a wash filled with those big sand particles. Very few move out of the way so it gets rough now and then. The suspension sure is kind to the body and the innards. Things settle down some when the trail picks up a 2TracR and higher gears come into use. There are depressions now and then that hold the latest rainwater, lakes if you will. However, they are not big enough for a 70 marlin. This short easier part is good because I soon turn off into a rather tight and woodsy section that is set at a 24 MPH schedule. The check at the end of this section is somewhat of a surprise. I am travelling in the White Rock Wildlife Management Area, but man, A badger running the clock and turning numbers? Sop now I follow the contour for a while where there are small rivulets every now and then. Some are no more than a tire track across the trail and then some are sloppy and muddy, but the fender92883 does a good job of keeping things under control. When I get to the top of a trail wide enough for quads, there is a sign with an arrow - Fred T - 3 Miles ahead. Goody, goody, now I get some vittles, like a liquid lunch. In the last half mile there is a rather steep downhill and these disc brakes sure help keeping control of the gravity factor. A quick shot of 93 octane and it's off to the trails once more. As I bounce along a gravel road like Michman being chased by the Michelin Man, there is a distraction off to the right. Those of you from the cabbage patch may find this hard to believe, but give it a try. There was a Dog Smitting behind a tree. At the check into the next section I am back on my starting minute. The trail gets a little technical traversing sidehills where a mistake puts you down a 45-degree slope of trees and rocks. By now I'mn acclimated to the locals use of calling big sand particles rocks. The switchbacks aren't highway type curves, but a V. Man, one boo boo and it's WOT. Whack, ouch, touche. As I work my way up a rocky wash, there are spectators around, and that usually means a touhg spot. I must be doiung OK because someone calls out - Wild Bill!. At the top I stop to make the correction that the name is INCA and to use a more accurate adjective than wild. Before I forget, should anyone be interested, my G spot is the unobtrusive black button on the right, and it is a blessing. After going through a logged over area with the mess that is left behind I see what what looks like a green rectangle approaching. There are strange things out in the woods but this turns out to be more like a Vespa with no other than Magoo at the controls. I check out of this tough 10-mile section 28 minutes late and settle in to finish the enduro in one safe piece. The arrows lead out to a pipeline on a ridge and for a while it's some cool 5th. gear operating. This reminds me, is an nzambon a UP model oa Zamboni? After winding down off the hills, it's back across Mill Creek through the water this time and in to the end check before houring out. I have accomplished the goal of doing better than Grampa Davie. And here I am after romping for 52 miles and 4.5 hours over hill and dale. I sure don't look the same as oput of the Factory.
INCA
PS - Young Ted asked me to mention that he had a good time and to say HI to all the Michiganders. Again, INCA
