The Ride We Waited All Season For
There is a very brief period in the early part of the month of September where even the heat of the midday sun cannot fully conceal the inevitable approach of autumn. Don't get me wrong; if fall was simply the season preceding spring, I would welcome the change with enthusiasm as (is often confessed right here in my column) fall just so happens to be one of my favorite times of the entire riding year. The problem lies in the fact that fall leads directly into winter and well, I don't have to get into a whole big thing about the problem there. But I digress, back to the concept of early September when the leaves are still green, the temps still high, and the days just start to darken a little earlier. As tradition among my modest group of riding buddies dictates, it is this brief time frame where we attempt to assemble our unofficial "farewell to summer" ride.
With winds of change on the horizon, the Rambling Man gathered up a group of friends for one final off-road excursion through the wilds of Western NY.
I would love to tell you that we've established a solidified date, destination, or even head count in the dozen or so years that we've carried out the tradition, but in truth (and like most of our endeavors), the fact that the ride even happens at all is strictly serendipitous. Factors such as who among us happens to have a running bike at the time, the weird and wacky weather of Western NY, and the type of bikes in our stable all play an important role in, when, and if the ride will even transpire.
If I were to attempt to isolate a pattern within years past, it would be closest to the truth to say we most often use the final ride of the season as an excuse to go adventure touring. Last season the desire to do so was so overwhelming for yours truly that I gave in on one of my only established motorcycle-riding guidelines and opted to participate from the passenger seat of a friend's KTM Adventure. Suffice to say, I wasn't eager to relive the well-documented experience (see
Backroad Ramblings August 2007) and quickly voted down a repeat performance when the subject came up over coffee. In the true spirit of democracy on which this nation and my group of riding associates operates, my vote was greeted with expected enthusiasm: Sighs, moans, and many rolling eyeballs. Fortunately, it worked out that everyone in attendance had some form of off-road bike in his stable and my suggestion of an off-road only excursion was quickly accepted unanimously.
The Rambling Man had picked up a slightly-used KTM 505 XC-F a couple of weeks prior, so the timing of the 'farewall to summer ride' couldn't have been better.
I won't lie (because this is the Internet after all, where everything you read has to be the truth) and tell you that, like a real politician, I didn't have a hidden agenda in my eagerness to play in the dirt this year. You see, only two weeks prior did a slightly used KTM 505 XC-F find its way into my ever-fluctuating brood. Naturally the opportunity to take it out onto the sandy trails for an official break-in/ season-ending celebration tickled my proverbial fancy as it were.
Like our adventures on pavement, the crew showed up with quite an assortment of vehicle choices. My cousin Mike had his trusty 2006 Suzuki RMZ-450 (with the addition of fresh tires and a steering damper the evening prior) and our friend Dan arrived with a heavily muddied Can Am DS650X on the back of his truck. Lucas had his DRZ400SM, which had benefited by a whole host of engine modifications since last we rode, and finally Scotty was busy removing the mirrors from his KLX 250S. We fueled up while my already drunken neighbor (keep in mind this was only 11am) stumbled over to offer some last minute advice.
"Be careful on these things," he slurred, sending some spittle on Mike's goggle lens.
"You too," I replied, fully aware of the fact that it was far more likely he was going to high-side and hit the deck before any of us did.
The trails that awaited us were about as perfect as they had been all year: Dry and packed with just enough moisture left from a mid-week shower to keep the dust down. We rode until the thirsty four strokes (and their operators) required liquid sustenance then remounted and rode some more. We even swapped vehicles on the wide sweeping truck & tractor lanes of a nearby grape vineyard. About the only incident of the day took place when a landowner (presumably over the winter) had a naturally low section of twisting trail repaired by dropping truckloads of limestone cobble down. The end result was something out of an enduro-cross where the only way to get through without senselessly beaten rims and bodies was to lighten the front end by leaning way back and then to wring out the engine until the rev-limiter kicked in. Slow negotiation of the section was what Californians would call "gnarly"-if that helps clarify the severity of the terrain any.
The shades of fall are already setting in, so if you haven't gotten in that final epic ride of the season, you'd better get crackin.'
After several successful crossings, my cousin (following my lead) came out a bit hot and heavy and proceeded to totally blow the uphill corner serving as the section's exit. In a cloud of dust, both he and his Suzuki vanished into the outlying foliage. Fortunately, he managed to somehow avoid the seeming wall of trees within and came to a rest of his own brake application, a clump of weeds, poplars, and poison berries in tow.
"I wonder if Tide with bleach can get the grass stains out of plastic?" he asked while taking a few clicks out of his new steering damper.
We called it a day shortly thereafter, as the final farewell to a beautiful season should hopefully never end in traction. Load up took place in my driveway just as the cooler air of dusk breezed through. I don't want to go and say that it was the perfect ride, but it would be difficult to imagine a more fitting way to spend a late-summer afternoon. Then again maybe I'm just biased because I still have stiff muscles from last year's ride!
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