Roaddane
08-21-2006, 04:11 AM
This is my fourth season discovering new back roads on my mighty KLR. Every year I travel a little farther from home, and push my sanity level a little. It can be unnerving to travel the great unknown all alone. Fuelled by the DeadZone rides and my own curiousity, I continually search and research more places to go and see, ride and explore. As Neil Young sings….got fuel to burn, got roads to drive!
This past spring I got a brilliant idea for a two day ride, an overnighter. The natural progression as I push myself further on what I call my “distance rides”. My parents have a place on a lake up by Clinton, so I would plan to take a dirt route up one day, then another back home the next. I would go when they were there so I’d have dinner, a hot shower and clean bed waiting for me.
Finally it was time to put my idea, and my will, to the test. Could I pull this off? Would the bike make it without any mishaps? Read on fellow adventurists.
Day 1 – Sunday Aug 6
Who knew just planning out the route would be so difficult. So many choices, but in the end it was time that won out, needing to make my destination each day before dark.
I awoke at 5am, early for this night owl. The bike was prepped and packed the night before except for the cold water and ice packs. I was on the road by 5:30, riding east out of Chilliwack with the cold morning air finding it’s way into the openings of my MX style helmet. It was going to be a hot day, and I knew that I would long for this cold air come the afternoon, but for now I was looking forward to the sun rising higher into the sky to warm me up.
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The first leg of my journey was up the West Harrison fsr. A 150km long gravel road that travels north up to Highway 99 just east of Pemberton. I had been up this road earlier this year to the 56km mark, the sight of the washed out bridge last year.
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This first part of the road is wide and fast, with loose gravel on top and washboard in (many) places, keeping you on your toes in the curves. Being a long weekend, and a popular destination for the partying riff-raff, I was attentive to the possibility of meeting up with an intoxicated driver/rider with something to prove, whatever that may be. Only two vehicles came my way and on the proper side of the road, one hurdle passed for this rider.
After the series of new bridges, the road gets rough for 5km. It’s a second gear grunt up and down the tighter road, picking your way around ruts, potholes and bigger rocks.
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Eventually you’re back to the wider, smoother road with km markers counting you down from 80. At the north end of Harrison Lake you ride through a logging camp at Tipella.
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Soon you get your first glimpse of the Lillooet River. It’s a consistently wide, greeny muddy water that looks calm and inviting yet powerful and deadly at the same time.
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I admired it and rode on.
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After a stretch along the river you cross a big bridge, the river to your right and Lillooet Lake to your left.
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The lake is the same greeny cloudy colour as the river. The smooth road winds its way along the shores, passing packed forestry campsites and more cabins the farther north and closer to hwy 99 you get.
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Looking in my mirrors, I know that this whole road, from the south end of Harrison has been dusty, but now that it’s around 10am, and the people are about, I’m eating a lot of dust with all the vehicles on the road. Most move over for me, some I have to gamble and bully my way around. Then there was the Jeep Grand Cherokee. Barely doing 10kmh and hogging the road. I guess he didn’t want to spill the coffee I could smell emanating from his car. Now normally I would calmly and slowly pass vehicles so as to not kick up any rocks, but JavaJoe (not related to JavaJudy) got a full taste of what a torquey KLR with a knobby Kenda 270 can shoot up from the gravelly shoulder of the road.
Finally I make it to hwy 99 and sense a feeling of accomplishment, a legendary fsr conquered. Well, actually it’s pretty tame, so lets just say it can now be moved from my “want to ride” list, to “rode” list.
The ride west to Pemberton is enjoyable but couldn’t be fully appreciated with a couple of slower cars in front and nowhere to pass. I can see why this curvy road is popular with the sporting crowd, whether it’s two wheels or four, barely a straight stretch to be had from the portion I sampled. One day, when I buy that convertible car of my dreams I’ll take the whole family for a ride on the Duffy Lake road, fly through the twisties, make my wife motion sick, she’ll tell me to slow down, then she’ll have to drive to get over the sickness………
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I gassed up in the big town of Pemberton. Any town that has a McDonalds gets the adjective “big” in my books. As I snacked and drank some water I noticed a lot of action in around this station. Cars, trucks, suvs, motorcycles, rvs, boats, you name it, it stopped in or passed by. I thought for sure I’d be stuck behind a long line of vehicles as I started out on the next leg of my journey.
I made my way through the old part of Pemberton, then north on Pemberton-Meadows road, an old paved two-lane. Surprisingly there was none of the traffic I was expecting from what I saw at the gas station.
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I was traveling at a good clip, well over the posted limit, as I approached the end of the pavement, there were 4 pick-ups with boats in the back, traveling in front of me. I twisted that throttle, got the KLR into full boil and passed them all in one fell swoop.
The Hurley River fsr gradually climbs in altitude as you make your way eastward toward Gold Bridge. The road surface is much like I’ve experienced all morning, wide, flat, dusty, with loose gravel and some washboard.
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I met and passed more vehicles on the Hurley than ever would’ve bet on. So much for exploring the great remote wilderness. The only wild animals I saw were in 4x4s going so fast they definitely have no regard for their suspensions or paint jobs. No worries, there is room for us all, I hope.
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Coming down to Gold Bridge I had the pleasure to view the bright blue waters of the Downton Lake.
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Turns out the lake is dammed. Dam!
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Thinking that I’m ahead of the game time wise, I decide to take an unscheduled loop around Gun Lake. Yes this scenario just reeks of impending doom, but relax faithful readers, our hero makes it out unscathed.
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Gun Lake is a beauty, looks refreshing on this hot day. There are cottages all around it. No matter how far you think you are ‘away from it all’, you’re never really all that far from other people. I even saw a young co-ed jogging on this hilly dirt road. Give it a rest sister, you’re suppose to be on vacation.
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I’m now past Gold Bridge, barely seen here at the top left of Carpenter Lake. There’s the dammed Downton Lake at the very top. It’s a paved two-laner back to Gold Bridge to see what I missed.
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Well you gots your hotel, aka downtown.
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Across the road you gots your liquor store, aka biggest industry.
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Truth be told, this small town ain’t so bad. I saw two of the towns “babes” and they were worth the second glance I gave them. Not bad for a town of 43, but I think one of them wasn’t a local. Also, you can’t beat a town where it looks like the main ‘city’ commuter vehicle is a 2-stroke motocrosser or a quad, unlicenced of course.
After gassing up with Gold Bridge grade regular at $1.35 a liter, it’s on to the next leg. Sure it would’ve been easy to take to the pavement and blast it to Lillooet, but not this cowboy. First it was northward for a spell on the Tyaughton Lake fsr. The Tyax Resort is on this road but I couldn’t get a picture of it, too exclusive I guess. Hope it looks better than this other roadside attraction.
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As I approached the northern point of the Tyaughton before I turn south and east I take a bridge crossing breather. Am I finally alone out here?
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So I made a right onto Marshal Lake fsr, surely I’m far from civilization now.
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Wrong-o! First I come across a guy and a gal collecting firewood. Then as I neared the lake there was a family on older quads and dirtbikes out having some fun. The lake is surrounded by cottages, yet more people. I stop for a break in the shade and can hear circular saws sawing and hammers hammering. A dude on a yellow mxer stops beside me. Says he recognizes me from his store, Cycle World in Surrey. Well I haven’t been in that building since it was a Harley & Yamaha dealership more than 25 years ago. I must have a twin out there for this isn’t the first time that’s happened to me. He steers me to a forestry camp just around the bend so I head over for a good lunch break, seeing that its 2pm.
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Marshal fsr makes it’s way back to Carpenter Lake.
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It joins up with the mostly paved Carpenter Lake road. Now this road is a motorcyclists dream, especially us dualsporters. Lakeside riding, good pavement, many curves, no centerline (so you own the whole width of the road as I see it) and no speed limit posted except the “suggested” ones in the curves. Oh, and no cars, go figure, here on a paved road, I see no cars, but I’m not complaining.
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The east end of Carpenter Lake is dammed too. Dam! The road on this last stretch was hard packed dirt, with very little loose gravel. Nice. I was traveling as fast as on the prior paved portion.
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There is a road along the top of the dam that will take you to Seton Portage. Not on my itinerary, and good thing cuz that dark tunnel was spooky.
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Here’s a backside view of the dam.
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The road, now called Bridge River, turned back to decent single lane pavement. I really enjoyed this segment, clipping apexes as only I can (read slowly), and cranking ‘er up out of the hole. And it was nice to finally be in some shade (remember that cool morning air?).
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That didn’t last though. I was soon baking out in the full hot sun as I approached Lillooet. The heat from the asphalt and other cars was paying its toll as I felt myself dehydrating quickly.
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In town I gassed up and found a shady yet breezy spot to rest and refuel on cold water. Before I left town I had to see Seton Lake, I’d seen so many pictures of it on the internet, must see it for real. It was a popular spot on this hot afternoon.
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Heading out of town, east on hwy 99, the temperatures seemed instantly more bareable, and getting better as I rose in altitude. At the little establishment of Pavillion I left the highway for the Clinton-Pavillion road.
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The road gains elevation quickly giving great views of the Fraser River and the valleys below.
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This road proved to be the highlight of the day. In my mind the perfect KLR road. Single lane wide, hard packed dirt, devoid of loose gravel and potholes. I boogied along at a good pace, kicking the tail out ever so slightly in the curves.
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You are on top of the mountain as you pass through the grassy rangelands. Views all around but all too soon the road descends into a forested set of switchbacks to the Kelly Lake valley. At the bottom of the hill I detour to the left (west) to check out the nearby Pear Lake. Not that big of a lake but there were people camping there, of course. On the slope overlooking the little lake was a lone tombstone of an elderly woman who died in 1990. It was surrounded by a white picket fence. This must have been her ‘place’. We should all be so lucky in the end to have a ‘place’.
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I turned my big steed around so that the headlight is back pointing east. I b-line my way along the Kelly Lake rd.
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Soon I’m back on pavement, for the sprint to Clinton. I think the speed limit was something like 60kmh, but I had her running in triple digits the whole way, and that felt slow. Gassed up, from Clinton it was a final 45 minutes jaunt to my layover at Loon Lake. So as not to chance fate, I stuck to the paved roads. Rolled through the gates at 7:15pm some 635km and 13 hours of real saddle time later.
As promised, there was dinner, a shower and a bed. What wasn’t promised, but should’ve been expected, was the worst case of monkey butt ever. I couldn’t keep from rubbing it and no chair in the house was soft enough. I managed to stay up til 10:30, but the wake up call was only a few hours away, and I was beat. I slept like the dead, too tired to dream.
With day 1 in the books, I was amazed at how relaxed I’d been all day. In the past, I’d always have the thought of a break down or flat tire in the back of my mind. This time I just enjoyed my ride, took it all in, the senses, the sights and as I’ve said many times over, it turns out I was never really all that far away from at least one other person.
My route was not technical by any means, the most challenging being a 5km stretch halfway up the West Harrison fsr. Bigger dualsports would have no problem with any of the roads I did this day. Heck even a dude with just the right amount of insanity could do it on a dressed Harley, maybe.
Day 2 – Monday Aug 7
I slept in to 5:30 this day. By 5:50 my thumb was reaching for the red starter button. My 72 year old father gave me the worried yet somewhat proud send off look that only a parent can give. Over the years I’ve traveled all the roads around Loon Lake you can and then some, on my old Yamaha YZ80. So the first leg east was on familiar ground although it had been a while.
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Loon Lake road east of our place is dirt and joins up with Brigade Creek fsr. Another fast wide road with loose gravel and washboard, see a theme here. Thankfully the road narrows to a bit more challenging 4th gear strip of pleasure. None too soon in the early morning cold air.
It’s at this point my digital camera takes a big dump, or so I thought. I would find out later that it didn’t like my spare batteries.
Brigade road gives way to Deadman-Vidette road. If the camera was working you’d be looking at a spectacular shot of the impressive Deadman Hoodoos right about now. Instead of taking this road all the way to highway 1, I turned onto the new-to-me Deadman-Cache Creek rd. I enjoyed this short leg, through a picturesque valley that included an Indian Reservation and a forestry camp on a small lake with the obligatory camper. I come to the junction with Battle Creek fsr, my route to hwy 1, and decide to switch my camera batteries back to the dead ones and manage to squeeze out one more shot. At this point I could put my mind at ease knowing the camera wasn’t toast, just needed newer new batteries.
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Battle Creek road was neat. You go through a canyon with a straight-up rock face just across the narrow valley. Coming out onto Hwy 1, some 10-20km west of Cache Creek, I ride east for a bit to the exit for Walhachin. As I come down from the plateau to the steel girder bridge that crosses the Thompson River, I can see something draped on top of one of the bridges top beams. As I near it, it looks like a big tree branch, but it wasn’t until I was under it that I can see it’s a big bird’s nest, maybe 6’ across. I don’t know what kind of bird built it, maybe something from the Fred Flintstone era. Of course no picture.
I had planned to take Barnes Lake Road to the Ashcroft area. The BC Backroads Mapbook shows it as a thick black line, and I remember a DSBCer from Kamloops mention riding it, so it must be okay, right? Well let me tell ya….
I cross the tracks and see “Barnes Lk” on the back of the railroad xing sign, the only clue that I’m on the right road. It’s a 2 track up the rolling hills, no trees, just desert sagebrush. I pass an interesting looking cave type hole with a wooden door and sash built around it, and a rough road going off into the distance beside it. I stick to the main roadfor a few more kilometers, waiting for it to turn south, but it never does. I end up going back down the hillside toward the Thompson River, wrong direction. I cross those same railroad tracks as before, just a few kilometers down river, so I stop for a drink and to study the map. Yup I should have turned onto another road, back a ways, but I didn’t see any good road. Just then the local farmer and his wife pull up in their beat up truck. He’s never explored the roads up there but the wife tells me she’s sure that the rough road at the cave/hole is Barnes Lake. This new road is as rough as I suspected, a 1st gear crawl, but at least now I’m headed in the right general direction. Soon I’m back into a forested area, dodging big rocks, small trees, big trees, potholes, ruts, on this fading two track. I’m soon losing faith in this road, it can’t be the right one. A kilometer or so later I’m deep in a thick forest, the road has reduced to a barely visible path that suddenly turns straight up a hill. I think nothing of it, peg the throttle in 1st and hold onto my green & black bucking bronco as I try to pick the best path. It doesn’t take long to realize that this hill is bloody steep, almost vertical as far as I’m concerned. No time to stop now, and I think to myself ‘I hope I don’t have to ride back down this thing, my crotch will be buried in the gas cap and the KLR brakes will never hold.’ As the terrain levels out my cow path snakes it’s way around the trees until I get to a grassy opening, where it just disappears. I hazard a guess as to where the path should logically go as I re-enter the forest. A faint path reappears and disappears until I come to a muddy creek crossing and a weird looking wooden fence structure off in the distance. I dismount for a closer look. The muddy creek seems solid enough to attempt a crossing and the wooden structure turns out to be part of a fence surrounding a crude homemade cattleguard. There appears to be a rough road continuing on, so I mount up, take no chances by goosing it through the creek, over the cattleguard and hope to myself that this road goes somewhere. I’m encouraged as the road slowly seems to be resembling an actual road. I blast it up a hill, over an embankment, and like I was dropped out of the sky, I land crossways on another road. This road is heavily rutted, but at least it’s a real road, made by a bulldozer, which is encouraging. I leave a marker, just in case this road doesn’t pan out and I need to return to my original path. I follow this rutted road west for 5km when it comes out of the trees to a major dirt road. To the east I see a forestry sign that says Woods Creek fsr, mmmmm, so by all accounts, according to the Mapbook, the thick black line I just rode from Walhachin was Barnes Lake fsr. I don’t know about that, but I do know that if they re-issue that mapbook they better make the Barnes Lake fsr a very thin black line! Truthfully, I didn’t mind riding that road, I’ve been on worse, and the KLR is up to the challenge, it’s the not knowing if you are on the right road, especially when referring to your map, that gets one all riled up. The major road leads me right to hwy 97C, just a few kilometers from Ashcroft.
Gassed up and a working camera with newer new batteries, I’m off for another adventure. This time it’s the Cornwall Hills lookout, finally. I wanted to go up there at DeadZone ’05 but because of the greasy mud, nobody was going up that year. Then this year at DZ I was game to go even though it wasn’t on the C-loop route. My riding buddy for the day, George, was game too, but we feared running out of time and getting back to camp late, so we passed.
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Out of Ashcroft, south a bit on Hwy 1, to Hat Creek fsr. The first part of the road is as I remember it from last year. Then I see a sign that says something like road is impassible by most vehicles in rainy or wintery conditions. I don’t remember that sign or this picturesque rock face, I must’ve been concentrating on keeping the bike upright on all that slippery mud last time.
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The road up to the lookout climbs steady for 8km. You want to stop and enjoy the view but know that you’re only going higher and the view will only get better.
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I take a good long rest at the lookout.
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It’s at an elevation of 6600’ and you have a 360 degree view. I signed the registry inside the building, gave a shout out to DSBC and read that bears have been spotted in the area. I had the camera ready but no sightings, just fresh turds on the road up.
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Back down Cornwall and onto Hwy 1, I go south just a few kilometers before a hang a right onto Venables fsr, another DeadZone leftover. Only this time instead of taking Twaal Lake fsr to Murray Creek, the high road as I call it, I take the low road, Twaal Creek fsr that will come out at Hwy 1 just north of Spences Bridge.
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I’m really enjoying this road, perfectly suited for me and my bike, good dirt road, shade from the trees, nice valley views. Then the camera gets its workout for the day, one interesting thing after another. First the shell of a ‘40s coupe and a corral right across from it.
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Further on I see an abandoned old shack down in a cluster of trees, but no road to get to it. Then a little further yet another house, this one not as old but accessible. They had one heck of a view off their back porch at one time. The house was still pretty solid, even the walls inside were in good shape.
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I always consider these finds a bit of a score, but I wasn’t done yet. Around a bend I see another old timer, pretty rustic.
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And these guys were hanging out just on the other side of trees. They weren’t spooked by me, they actually came closer.
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One last car/shack combo at the sight of what appeared could still be a working ranch, although the mainhouse looked abandoned also.
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Back on the highway it was a short blast to Spences Bridge for my last fill up and a water break. It was stinking hot here and I wasn’t looking forward to getting back out on the hot asphalt breathing the black diesel smoke from the semis.
It was only 20km or so, where the highway goes under the railway at what is called the “snake pit”, that I left the pavement for the Nicoamen River fsr. It’s a steady climb up in elevation, from the Fraser River to the tops of the mountains, zigzagging up for eleven straight kilometers. Just when you think it couldn’t get any higher, another set of switchbacks.
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This nice road follows a valley south, high up though so the views are great the whole way. It was also cooler up there and some shady spots.
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The road gradually drops in elevation as it makes its way toward Boston Bar. The road changes names to Mowhokam Creek fsr about halfway down and eventually turns into my old stand by, smooth & wide with loose gravel and washboard. Only throw in some sand traps here and there, just to keep you honest.
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Eventually I’m back on the highway riding through Boston Bar, man it’s a hot one. My original plan was to hit the Kookipi and East Harrison for the last leg home, but I read on this site that it was closed do to a fire or a slide so it was the superslab for the rest of the way home. I knew the East Harrison would’ve been a gamble with all the riff-raff heading home from the long weekend (how many burned out cars this time?). The highway was busy too, but flowing along above the speed limit. I took Hwy 7 hoping it wouldn’t be so busy but no luck. With a long line of rvers in front, and a real strong head wind I was better off staying tucked in behind a travel trailer. I don’t care for street riding much and this is a perfect example why. Lots of traffic traveling under the limit, a dead straight road, so boring. I put my left elbow on the top of my tankbag and rested my chin on my left hand. If it wasn’t for the monkey butt that felt like my skin was going to split open I might’ve fallen asleep.
I pull into the driveway at 6pm with another 460km on the odometer, I guess that’s a short day. I’m tired but sadistically I could ride more. I park the bike in the basement like usual, put away my gear like usual, join the wife and kids cooling off in the backyard pool. Somehow after 2 days and 1100km on, and off, the road you kind of feel like a little fanfare is in order, a little fireworks, banners, maybe a marching band, but it’s a personal accomplishment, and I’ll have the memories and pictures to reflect on.
The bike ran without a hiccup, only needing gas and chain lube. I gassed up around 7 times, getting a consistant 60mpg Imperial/50mpg US except for the extended highway runsat triple digit speeds. The trust I have in this machine has only grown stronger. My tire is just about shot, but I'll squeeze a little more out of it.
My trip was the best. I don't know where I'll go on my next "distance ride", but I will do this one again, only choosing a different route, there are so many roads out there to drive, and although it's getting expensive, I've got fuel to burn.
[size=3][color=#000000][font="Times New Roman"][size=3][color=#000000][font="Times New Roman"]Paul
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This past spring I got a brilliant idea for a two day ride, an overnighter. The natural progression as I push myself further on what I call my “distance rides”. My parents have a place on a lake up by Clinton, so I would plan to take a dirt route up one day, then another back home the next. I would go when they were there so I’d have dinner, a hot shower and clean bed waiting for me.
Finally it was time to put my idea, and my will, to the test. Could I pull this off? Would the bike make it without any mishaps? Read on fellow adventurists.
Day 1 – Sunday Aug 6
Who knew just planning out the route would be so difficult. So many choices, but in the end it was time that won out, needing to make my destination each day before dark.
I awoke at 5am, early for this night owl. The bike was prepped and packed the night before except for the cold water and ice packs. I was on the road by 5:30, riding east out of Chilliwack with the cold morning air finding it’s way into the openings of my MX style helmet. It was going to be a hot day, and I knew that I would long for this cold air come the afternoon, but for now I was looking forward to the sun rising higher into the sky to warm me up.
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The first leg of my journey was up the West Harrison fsr. A 150km long gravel road that travels north up to Highway 99 just east of Pemberton. I had been up this road earlier this year to the 56km mark, the sight of the washed out bridge last year.
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This first part of the road is wide and fast, with loose gravel on top and washboard in (many) places, keeping you on your toes in the curves. Being a long weekend, and a popular destination for the partying riff-raff, I was attentive to the possibility of meeting up with an intoxicated driver/rider with something to prove, whatever that may be. Only two vehicles came my way and on the proper side of the road, one hurdle passed for this rider.
After the series of new bridges, the road gets rough for 5km. It’s a second gear grunt up and down the tighter road, picking your way around ruts, potholes and bigger rocks.
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Eventually you’re back to the wider, smoother road with km markers counting you down from 80. At the north end of Harrison Lake you ride through a logging camp at Tipella.
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Soon you get your first glimpse of the Lillooet River. It’s a consistently wide, greeny muddy water that looks calm and inviting yet powerful and deadly at the same time.
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I admired it and rode on.
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After a stretch along the river you cross a big bridge, the river to your right and Lillooet Lake to your left.
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The lake is the same greeny cloudy colour as the river. The smooth road winds its way along the shores, passing packed forestry campsites and more cabins the farther north and closer to hwy 99 you get.
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Looking in my mirrors, I know that this whole road, from the south end of Harrison has been dusty, but now that it’s around 10am, and the people are about, I’m eating a lot of dust with all the vehicles on the road. Most move over for me, some I have to gamble and bully my way around. Then there was the Jeep Grand Cherokee. Barely doing 10kmh and hogging the road. I guess he didn’t want to spill the coffee I could smell emanating from his car. Now normally I would calmly and slowly pass vehicles so as to not kick up any rocks, but JavaJoe (not related to JavaJudy) got a full taste of what a torquey KLR with a knobby Kenda 270 can shoot up from the gravelly shoulder of the road.
Finally I make it to hwy 99 and sense a feeling of accomplishment, a legendary fsr conquered. Well, actually it’s pretty tame, so lets just say it can now be moved from my “want to ride” list, to “rode” list.
The ride west to Pemberton is enjoyable but couldn’t be fully appreciated with a couple of slower cars in front and nowhere to pass. I can see why this curvy road is popular with the sporting crowd, whether it’s two wheels or four, barely a straight stretch to be had from the portion I sampled. One day, when I buy that convertible car of my dreams I’ll take the whole family for a ride on the Duffy Lake road, fly through the twisties, make my wife motion sick, she’ll tell me to slow down, then she’ll have to drive to get over the sickness………
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I gassed up in the big town of Pemberton. Any town that has a McDonalds gets the adjective “big” in my books. As I snacked and drank some water I noticed a lot of action in around this station. Cars, trucks, suvs, motorcycles, rvs, boats, you name it, it stopped in or passed by. I thought for sure I’d be stuck behind a long line of vehicles as I started out on the next leg of my journey.
I made my way through the old part of Pemberton, then north on Pemberton-Meadows road, an old paved two-lane. Surprisingly there was none of the traffic I was expecting from what I saw at the gas station.
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I was traveling at a good clip, well over the posted limit, as I approached the end of the pavement, there were 4 pick-ups with boats in the back, traveling in front of me. I twisted that throttle, got the KLR into full boil and passed them all in one fell swoop.
The Hurley River fsr gradually climbs in altitude as you make your way eastward toward Gold Bridge. The road surface is much like I’ve experienced all morning, wide, flat, dusty, with loose gravel and some washboard.
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I met and passed more vehicles on the Hurley than ever would’ve bet on. So much for exploring the great remote wilderness. The only wild animals I saw were in 4x4s going so fast they definitely have no regard for their suspensions or paint jobs. No worries, there is room for us all, I hope.
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Coming down to Gold Bridge I had the pleasure to view the bright blue waters of the Downton Lake.
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Turns out the lake is dammed. Dam!
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Thinking that I’m ahead of the game time wise, I decide to take an unscheduled loop around Gun Lake. Yes this scenario just reeks of impending doom, but relax faithful readers, our hero makes it out unscathed.
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Gun Lake is a beauty, looks refreshing on this hot day. There are cottages all around it. No matter how far you think you are ‘away from it all’, you’re never really all that far from other people. I even saw a young co-ed jogging on this hilly dirt road. Give it a rest sister, you’re suppose to be on vacation.
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I’m now past Gold Bridge, barely seen here at the top left of Carpenter Lake. There’s the dammed Downton Lake at the very top. It’s a paved two-laner back to Gold Bridge to see what I missed.
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Well you gots your hotel, aka downtown.
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Across the road you gots your liquor store, aka biggest industry.
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Truth be told, this small town ain’t so bad. I saw two of the towns “babes” and they were worth the second glance I gave them. Not bad for a town of 43, but I think one of them wasn’t a local. Also, you can’t beat a town where it looks like the main ‘city’ commuter vehicle is a 2-stroke motocrosser or a quad, unlicenced of course.
After gassing up with Gold Bridge grade regular at $1.35 a liter, it’s on to the next leg. Sure it would’ve been easy to take to the pavement and blast it to Lillooet, but not this cowboy. First it was northward for a spell on the Tyaughton Lake fsr. The Tyax Resort is on this road but I couldn’t get a picture of it, too exclusive I guess. Hope it looks better than this other roadside attraction.
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As I approached the northern point of the Tyaughton before I turn south and east I take a bridge crossing breather. Am I finally alone out here?
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So I made a right onto Marshal Lake fsr, surely I’m far from civilization now.
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Wrong-o! First I come across a guy and a gal collecting firewood. Then as I neared the lake there was a family on older quads and dirtbikes out having some fun. The lake is surrounded by cottages, yet more people. I stop for a break in the shade and can hear circular saws sawing and hammers hammering. A dude on a yellow mxer stops beside me. Says he recognizes me from his store, Cycle World in Surrey. Well I haven’t been in that building since it was a Harley & Yamaha dealership more than 25 years ago. I must have a twin out there for this isn’t the first time that’s happened to me. He steers me to a forestry camp just around the bend so I head over for a good lunch break, seeing that its 2pm.
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Marshal fsr makes it’s way back to Carpenter Lake.
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It joins up with the mostly paved Carpenter Lake road. Now this road is a motorcyclists dream, especially us dualsporters. Lakeside riding, good pavement, many curves, no centerline (so you own the whole width of the road as I see it) and no speed limit posted except the “suggested” ones in the curves. Oh, and no cars, go figure, here on a paved road, I see no cars, but I’m not complaining.
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The east end of Carpenter Lake is dammed too. Dam! The road on this last stretch was hard packed dirt, with very little loose gravel. Nice. I was traveling as fast as on the prior paved portion.
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There is a road along the top of the dam that will take you to Seton Portage. Not on my itinerary, and good thing cuz that dark tunnel was spooky.
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Here’s a backside view of the dam.
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The road, now called Bridge River, turned back to decent single lane pavement. I really enjoyed this segment, clipping apexes as only I can (read slowly), and cranking ‘er up out of the hole. And it was nice to finally be in some shade (remember that cool morning air?).
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That didn’t last though. I was soon baking out in the full hot sun as I approached Lillooet. The heat from the asphalt and other cars was paying its toll as I felt myself dehydrating quickly.
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In town I gassed up and found a shady yet breezy spot to rest and refuel on cold water. Before I left town I had to see Seton Lake, I’d seen so many pictures of it on the internet, must see it for real. It was a popular spot on this hot afternoon.
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Heading out of town, east on hwy 99, the temperatures seemed instantly more bareable, and getting better as I rose in altitude. At the little establishment of Pavillion I left the highway for the Clinton-Pavillion road.
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The road gains elevation quickly giving great views of the Fraser River and the valleys below.
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This road proved to be the highlight of the day. In my mind the perfect KLR road. Single lane wide, hard packed dirt, devoid of loose gravel and potholes. I boogied along at a good pace, kicking the tail out ever so slightly in the curves.
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You are on top of the mountain as you pass through the grassy rangelands. Views all around but all too soon the road descends into a forested set of switchbacks to the Kelly Lake valley. At the bottom of the hill I detour to the left (west) to check out the nearby Pear Lake. Not that big of a lake but there were people camping there, of course. On the slope overlooking the little lake was a lone tombstone of an elderly woman who died in 1990. It was surrounded by a white picket fence. This must have been her ‘place’. We should all be so lucky in the end to have a ‘place’.
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I turned my big steed around so that the headlight is back pointing east. I b-line my way along the Kelly Lake rd.
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Soon I’m back on pavement, for the sprint to Clinton. I think the speed limit was something like 60kmh, but I had her running in triple digits the whole way, and that felt slow. Gassed up, from Clinton it was a final 45 minutes jaunt to my layover at Loon Lake. So as not to chance fate, I stuck to the paved roads. Rolled through the gates at 7:15pm some 635km and 13 hours of real saddle time later.
As promised, there was dinner, a shower and a bed. What wasn’t promised, but should’ve been expected, was the worst case of monkey butt ever. I couldn’t keep from rubbing it and no chair in the house was soft enough. I managed to stay up til 10:30, but the wake up call was only a few hours away, and I was beat. I slept like the dead, too tired to dream.
With day 1 in the books, I was amazed at how relaxed I’d been all day. In the past, I’d always have the thought of a break down or flat tire in the back of my mind. This time I just enjoyed my ride, took it all in, the senses, the sights and as I’ve said many times over, it turns out I was never really all that far away from at least one other person.
My route was not technical by any means, the most challenging being a 5km stretch halfway up the West Harrison fsr. Bigger dualsports would have no problem with any of the roads I did this day. Heck even a dude with just the right amount of insanity could do it on a dressed Harley, maybe.
Day 2 – Monday Aug 7
I slept in to 5:30 this day. By 5:50 my thumb was reaching for the red starter button. My 72 year old father gave me the worried yet somewhat proud send off look that only a parent can give. Over the years I’ve traveled all the roads around Loon Lake you can and then some, on my old Yamaha YZ80. So the first leg east was on familiar ground although it had been a while.
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Loon Lake road east of our place is dirt and joins up with Brigade Creek fsr. Another fast wide road with loose gravel and washboard, see a theme here. Thankfully the road narrows to a bit more challenging 4th gear strip of pleasure. None too soon in the early morning cold air.
It’s at this point my digital camera takes a big dump, or so I thought. I would find out later that it didn’t like my spare batteries.
Brigade road gives way to Deadman-Vidette road. If the camera was working you’d be looking at a spectacular shot of the impressive Deadman Hoodoos right about now. Instead of taking this road all the way to highway 1, I turned onto the new-to-me Deadman-Cache Creek rd. I enjoyed this short leg, through a picturesque valley that included an Indian Reservation and a forestry camp on a small lake with the obligatory camper. I come to the junction with Battle Creek fsr, my route to hwy 1, and decide to switch my camera batteries back to the dead ones and manage to squeeze out one more shot. At this point I could put my mind at ease knowing the camera wasn’t toast, just needed newer new batteries.
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Battle Creek road was neat. You go through a canyon with a straight-up rock face just across the narrow valley. Coming out onto Hwy 1, some 10-20km west of Cache Creek, I ride east for a bit to the exit for Walhachin. As I come down from the plateau to the steel girder bridge that crosses the Thompson River, I can see something draped on top of one of the bridges top beams. As I near it, it looks like a big tree branch, but it wasn’t until I was under it that I can see it’s a big bird’s nest, maybe 6’ across. I don’t know what kind of bird built it, maybe something from the Fred Flintstone era. Of course no picture.
I had planned to take Barnes Lake Road to the Ashcroft area. The BC Backroads Mapbook shows it as a thick black line, and I remember a DSBCer from Kamloops mention riding it, so it must be okay, right? Well let me tell ya….
I cross the tracks and see “Barnes Lk” on the back of the railroad xing sign, the only clue that I’m on the right road. It’s a 2 track up the rolling hills, no trees, just desert sagebrush. I pass an interesting looking cave type hole with a wooden door and sash built around it, and a rough road going off into the distance beside it. I stick to the main roadfor a few more kilometers, waiting for it to turn south, but it never does. I end up going back down the hillside toward the Thompson River, wrong direction. I cross those same railroad tracks as before, just a few kilometers down river, so I stop for a drink and to study the map. Yup I should have turned onto another road, back a ways, but I didn’t see any good road. Just then the local farmer and his wife pull up in their beat up truck. He’s never explored the roads up there but the wife tells me she’s sure that the rough road at the cave/hole is Barnes Lake. This new road is as rough as I suspected, a 1st gear crawl, but at least now I’m headed in the right general direction. Soon I’m back into a forested area, dodging big rocks, small trees, big trees, potholes, ruts, on this fading two track. I’m soon losing faith in this road, it can’t be the right one. A kilometer or so later I’m deep in a thick forest, the road has reduced to a barely visible path that suddenly turns straight up a hill. I think nothing of it, peg the throttle in 1st and hold onto my green & black bucking bronco as I try to pick the best path. It doesn’t take long to realize that this hill is bloody steep, almost vertical as far as I’m concerned. No time to stop now, and I think to myself ‘I hope I don’t have to ride back down this thing, my crotch will be buried in the gas cap and the KLR brakes will never hold.’ As the terrain levels out my cow path snakes it’s way around the trees until I get to a grassy opening, where it just disappears. I hazard a guess as to where the path should logically go as I re-enter the forest. A faint path reappears and disappears until I come to a muddy creek crossing and a weird looking wooden fence structure off in the distance. I dismount for a closer look. The muddy creek seems solid enough to attempt a crossing and the wooden structure turns out to be part of a fence surrounding a crude homemade cattleguard. There appears to be a rough road continuing on, so I mount up, take no chances by goosing it through the creek, over the cattleguard and hope to myself that this road goes somewhere. I’m encouraged as the road slowly seems to be resembling an actual road. I blast it up a hill, over an embankment, and like I was dropped out of the sky, I land crossways on another road. This road is heavily rutted, but at least it’s a real road, made by a bulldozer, which is encouraging. I leave a marker, just in case this road doesn’t pan out and I need to return to my original path. I follow this rutted road west for 5km when it comes out of the trees to a major dirt road. To the east I see a forestry sign that says Woods Creek fsr, mmmmm, so by all accounts, according to the Mapbook, the thick black line I just rode from Walhachin was Barnes Lake fsr. I don’t know about that, but I do know that if they re-issue that mapbook they better make the Barnes Lake fsr a very thin black line! Truthfully, I didn’t mind riding that road, I’ve been on worse, and the KLR is up to the challenge, it’s the not knowing if you are on the right road, especially when referring to your map, that gets one all riled up. The major road leads me right to hwy 97C, just a few kilometers from Ashcroft.
Gassed up and a working camera with newer new batteries, I’m off for another adventure. This time it’s the Cornwall Hills lookout, finally. I wanted to go up there at DeadZone ’05 but because of the greasy mud, nobody was going up that year. Then this year at DZ I was game to go even though it wasn’t on the C-loop route. My riding buddy for the day, George, was game too, but we feared running out of time and getting back to camp late, so we passed.
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Out of Ashcroft, south a bit on Hwy 1, to Hat Creek fsr. The first part of the road is as I remember it from last year. Then I see a sign that says something like road is impassible by most vehicles in rainy or wintery conditions. I don’t remember that sign or this picturesque rock face, I must’ve been concentrating on keeping the bike upright on all that slippery mud last time.
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The road up to the lookout climbs steady for 8km. You want to stop and enjoy the view but know that you’re only going higher and the view will only get better.
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I take a good long rest at the lookout.
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It’s at an elevation of 6600’ and you have a 360 degree view. I signed the registry inside the building, gave a shout out to DSBC and read that bears have been spotted in the area. I had the camera ready but no sightings, just fresh turds on the road up.
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Back down Cornwall and onto Hwy 1, I go south just a few kilometers before a hang a right onto Venables fsr, another DeadZone leftover. Only this time instead of taking Twaal Lake fsr to Murray Creek, the high road as I call it, I take the low road, Twaal Creek fsr that will come out at Hwy 1 just north of Spences Bridge.
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I’m really enjoying this road, perfectly suited for me and my bike, good dirt road, shade from the trees, nice valley views. Then the camera gets its workout for the day, one interesting thing after another. First the shell of a ‘40s coupe and a corral right across from it.
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Further on I see an abandoned old shack down in a cluster of trees, but no road to get to it. Then a little further yet another house, this one not as old but accessible. They had one heck of a view off their back porch at one time. The house was still pretty solid, even the walls inside were in good shape.
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I always consider these finds a bit of a score, but I wasn’t done yet. Around a bend I see another old timer, pretty rustic.
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And these guys were hanging out just on the other side of trees. They weren’t spooked by me, they actually came closer.
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One last car/shack combo at the sight of what appeared could still be a working ranch, although the mainhouse looked abandoned also.
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Back on the highway it was a short blast to Spences Bridge for my last fill up and a water break. It was stinking hot here and I wasn’t looking forward to getting back out on the hot asphalt breathing the black diesel smoke from the semis.
It was only 20km or so, where the highway goes under the railway at what is called the “snake pit”, that I left the pavement for the Nicoamen River fsr. It’s a steady climb up in elevation, from the Fraser River to the tops of the mountains, zigzagging up for eleven straight kilometers. Just when you think it couldn’t get any higher, another set of switchbacks.
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This nice road follows a valley south, high up though so the views are great the whole way. It was also cooler up there and some shady spots.
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The road gradually drops in elevation as it makes its way toward Boston Bar. The road changes names to Mowhokam Creek fsr about halfway down and eventually turns into my old stand by, smooth & wide with loose gravel and washboard. Only throw in some sand traps here and there, just to keep you honest.
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Eventually I’m back on the highway riding through Boston Bar, man it’s a hot one. My original plan was to hit the Kookipi and East Harrison for the last leg home, but I read on this site that it was closed do to a fire or a slide so it was the superslab for the rest of the way home. I knew the East Harrison would’ve been a gamble with all the riff-raff heading home from the long weekend (how many burned out cars this time?). The highway was busy too, but flowing along above the speed limit. I took Hwy 7 hoping it wouldn’t be so busy but no luck. With a long line of rvers in front, and a real strong head wind I was better off staying tucked in behind a travel trailer. I don’t care for street riding much and this is a perfect example why. Lots of traffic traveling under the limit, a dead straight road, so boring. I put my left elbow on the top of my tankbag and rested my chin on my left hand. If it wasn’t for the monkey butt that felt like my skin was going to split open I might’ve fallen asleep.
I pull into the driveway at 6pm with another 460km on the odometer, I guess that’s a short day. I’m tired but sadistically I could ride more. I park the bike in the basement like usual, put away my gear like usual, join the wife and kids cooling off in the backyard pool. Somehow after 2 days and 1100km on, and off, the road you kind of feel like a little fanfare is in order, a little fireworks, banners, maybe a marching band, but it’s a personal accomplishment, and I’ll have the memories and pictures to reflect on.
The bike ran without a hiccup, only needing gas and chain lube. I gassed up around 7 times, getting a consistant 60mpg Imperial/50mpg US except for the extended highway runsat triple digit speeds. The trust I have in this machine has only grown stronger. My tire is just about shot, but I'll squeeze a little more out of it.
My trip was the best. I don't know where I'll go on my next "distance ride", but I will do this one again, only choosing a different route, there are so many roads out there to drive, and although it's getting expensive, I've got fuel to burn.
[size=3][color=#000000][font="Times New Roman"][size=3][color=#000000][font="Times New Roman"]Paul
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