Frozen Midnight Madness, Rampart Range Road, Colorado.  May, 2007.

Misery yesterday, soreness today.

This report was originated on KLR650.net, and is imported here with minor editing for structure (due to the import process). Typos, etc., have mostly been left as they are, fixed only for clarity in some cases.  Martin is the report writer.
 

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ooooof! Man, am I sore and bruised.

Silly me. I wanted to take the bike out yesterday afternoon. The weather has been very mild, so I got optimistic.

I thought it was a good idea to take the KLR out and see if some roads were passable on Rampart. Headed up Mt Herman road (which we have ridden on group rides before) and dumped the bike three times on ice and snow. Okay, I was determined to make it up to Rampart Road, so I gave my nuts a rough twist and toughed it out. I had removed the mirrors to keep from breaking them, and this was a good move.

Once on Rampart, the road looked very well travelled, so I headed north. Big mistake. Once I got through some of the rough snow patches, the road got better, but then I crashed a few times on some deep slush that was like riding through glue. Again, I toughed it out. Kept going.

When I got to where the road was closed off, I had to make a decision. I could go around the gate and keep going, but that wasn't likely. With the gate being closed, trucks and jeeps stopped there. The only traffic in the deep snow beyond the gate looked to be ATVs, and I wouldn't have made it a hundred yards.

I could have turned back and tried the south end of Rampart, coming out in Colorado Springs, but I didn't want to go through those sluch patches again. Here is where I became temporarily (?) insane.

I looked at my trail map, and decided to take a side trail to highway 67. The trail looked very well travelled, and it was mostly clear of snow from what I could see. I knew that it would be 5 or 6 miles, and would be bad in spots, but it would be the shortest path to pavement. Down the trail I went.

This trail would be a hoot when dry, and right at the upper edge of being manageable by such a big bike. As it was, it was horrible. A mile or so down the steep trail, the snow patches appeared. The descent had been in good sunlight, and had mostly melted off, but the lower trail was in shadow, and was mostly ice and snow. Two hours later, I'd picked the bike up another 10-12 times, and was getting very tired. It was getting dark, and I grew concerned. Fortunately, there was no wind, and I was dressed well enough. No cell phone connection.

Things got worse when I dumped the bike in a slush-filled pothole at the bottom of a big dip in the road. Here, there was trouble aplenty.

I managed to get the bike out of the slush by dragging it, but I couldn't get enough traction to get going in either direction (uphill both ways). I could have really used Buzzard's tire chain...

I removed the tank bag and tail box, and set them aside to reduce weight.

I managed to drag the bike up hill (front end, back end, frond end, back end...) until I was on a rise, but I was spent. I sat in the snow for a while and fell asleep for 20 minutes or so. Woke up and laughed. Giddy, I think. It was completely dark now.

Pulled the bike up a few more feet and had a hell of a time standing it up due to poor footing. Finally blasted down through the dip and up the other side for a hundred yards or so until I got to a level patch. Walked back and retrieved my gear and got the bike back together.

Went very carefully onward, visibility was limited to the headlight. There is a new moon, so not even faint light to help see the trail. This is why I don't like the headlight mounted to the frame instead of to the fork. In slow speed maneuvering, the headlight doesn't point where your tire is pointed, and with the sharp turns I entered many curves virtually blind.

I was tired enough to be concerned about picking the bike up again. I had a few bruises and some serious soreness in my back and legs. Nothing for it, of course, so no help in bitching at the trees.

I did need to pick the bike up a few more times, and had trouble getting it started each time. Motor on, I screamed!

Finally made it down to highway 67, and was very grateful to see clear pavement. I had aired my tires way down, which sucked on the roadway. Found out that my mini hand pump sucks. Limped on until I found a motorist who had a bicycle pump. That helped. Got up to Sedalia and called my wife to tell her that I was okay and was going to stop for food. Finally go home very late and very grateful.

Damage to the bike is minor to moderate. No biggie.

Damage to me is minor; some skin loss and lots of soreness.

Since everything came out okay, I can call it a successful adventure. But it was close.

I'll work on the bike next week.

Cheers!