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I had only been home (from the last ride to Alaska) for one day, but I really wanted to get off the pavement and throw some dirt and mud around for a while. I had registered for the RMAR only last week, since I wasn't sure until then when I would be home from the ride up north.
There were several people at the RMAR who I had just seen the previous weekend in Darby, Montana, at the WestFest rally, but there were lots of folks at RMAR who hadn't been in Darby and this was another great opportunity to meet friends, make friends, and ride some more.
I wanted to get off the KLR for a while, so I drove down with my gremlin-possessed DRZ400 on a carrier. The bike has a problem in the carb that causes the RPMs to race up and get stuck. It's like riding a rocket bike, and you don't always have control of the throttle.
I drove down to South Fork, Colorado, on Thursday, July 29th, getting there in late afternoon.
There were rain squalls along the way, and this proved to be an omen of weather to come.
Many were there already, but more riders kept showing up over the next couple of days. I parked my Tahoe next to the cabin that some friends had rented, but I slept in the SUV.
I won't narrate much here for this report; just some photo captions.
On Friday, Randy (in the black and yellow jacket) led a medium-sized group of riders to the south. The route was moderately difficult at times, but mostly pretty easy. A few loose rock sections and some slick stuff when the rain came in.
We stopped a few times along the way to take breaks. At Poage Lake, I hiked the quarter-mile to see people fishing and cattle wading in the water.
The trail was muddy during and after the rains.
There were over a hundred riders at the rally, and they had broken up into several groups for the day. Breakfast and dinner was provided each day, and after the evening slide show of the photos taken that day, the fires were good gathering spots.
On Saturday, Scott (on the left) gave everyone a ride briefing for the route that he would lead. We ended up with a too-large group, so after a while, the faster riders took off ahead on their own (which is the right thing to do).
On the early dirt roads, we stopped to keep organized, and I saw this old bike being swallowed by the weeds.
Easy roads started us up into the higher and less-traveled trails.
When we really started climbing, it was slow going because we had to avoid bunching up and because some of the riders either didn't have the right tires for these sections or they didn't have much riding experience on these kinds of trails. We picked up a few bikes over and over again.
The rain came again and that changed the dynamic again. Scott's description of the route wasn't what some riders thought it was, and they were really being pushed to their limit. On some of the level sections, water puddles were common.
Free range cattle and horses were also common. My DRZ's racing engine was keeping me on the brakes and working the clutch. I went into many turns too hot and I almost went into a tree at one point.
At the apex of the ride, the rain eased into a light drizzle. We stopped to rest after the hard climb. Several riders had gone down, some had gone down several times. No serious injuries, and only minor damage to the bikes.
BubbleTron (the gal just right of center, below) had ridden her KLR from Los Angeles, but this was the first time she had ever ridden on mud. She did great.
Island Girl was having fits with her BMW F650 Dakar, mainly because it was so heavy for her, and the tires weren't good in the mud. She had a determined attitude, though, and despite having mud all over her, she still had a smile at the end of it all.
Riding down steep grades is harder than riding upward, and those who didn't know how to use engine braking, dead-engine braking, or were relying too much on just the front brake were going down over and over again. Other riders stationed themselves along the harder sections to help pick the bikes up.
BubbleTron's legs are long enough to manage the tall KLR. Her saddlebags are small, orange Pelican-style boxes.
The rain came back.
There was another woman rider who had gone ahead with the faster group, but Island Girl and BubbleTron stayed with the slow-pokes.
Near the end of the long day, the roads got nice again, and it looked just like it did when we started.
Just before we got back to the pavement, great views were hampered by the rain again. I didn't manage to protect my camera's lens as well as I would have liked.
The group split again once we were back on asphalt. Although wet, most of us went north to Creede for something hot to eat and drink. Back at the event site and campground later, the drizzle kept up until after a great steak dinner, then the weather cleared just at dusk and we were able to have another slide show of the day's ride photos.
Big John finished raffling off the prizes and I did a ceremony honoring (or joking with) the ride leaders. Scott really knows how to entertain a crowd while squeezing through a 17" tire.
We had another large group around the fire that night, but my camera's batteries were dead. Sorry. We took turns telling jokes, telling true stories, telling lies, and trying to get BubbleTron to show us her "thang." No, it wasn't anything naughty.
Dang.
Sometime after 02:00, we put the fire out and staggered away in separate zig-zaggy directions. Yes, there had been lots of bottles passed around and beer cans emptied.
Sunday morning came on bright and hot. I was cooked out of my Tahoe, so I got up and said good-bye to those were where still there. I had taken a gal's F800 BMW for a test ride the previous evening, and she kept trying to sell it to me. I liked the bike, and I will ride one in New Zealand next year, but I wasn't ready to add to my bike stable just yet.
While on the subject of the F800, I had noticed that the steering was very touchy--almost too twitchy to be safe. I almost caused a 40-MPH tank-slapper when I lightly wiggled the handlebars to see how the bike would respond. Then, when leaning into a turn, the steering kept wanting to turn too far inward and I had to fight it back out. I asked the bike's owner about this and she said that it was normal for that bike. She didn't like it either, and suggested that a steering dampener would be a good addition. Everything else about the F800 seemed fine to me. Too expensive, though.
Near mid-day, four KLR riders pulled into the campground, each heavily loaded. I had chatted online with these guys, so I knew they were headed for Canada to begin their southward ride along the Continental Divide. I will try to mosey along with them for a while when they pass south through Colorado again in a few weeks. We talked for a while, but they had to get moving. I saw them again later on the road north to Lake City. I had new batteries in my camera, so I got their photo.
These are the G.O.D.S. Geezers On Dual-Sports, get it?
Anyway, geezers or not, that's Wayne, Mike, (Hilligan), and Curtis. (Gosh, I hope I got that right... I met a lot of new people this weekend.)
I stopped for a couple hours in Cripple Creek to throw some money at the Blackjack dealers, then cruised home and got the Tahoe unloaded.
In the rain.