12sep24, con’t
So far the ride was everything we wanted. Beautiful and varied scenery, blue skies and sun, warm with cool breezes. And the route - easy but fun.
Feeling confident and not wanting the fun to end, the decision was made to ride Sears canyon. On the way there we ride through rangelands seeing fat Angus heifers and some cool ranch houses, hunter’s camps along with fancy summer homes sprinkled in here and there.
Eventually we turned onto a dirt road and soon were met with a steeply tilted dirt two track with a deep rut meandering down the center. But it was running slightly down hill so we muddled through.
Meanwhile, the sky had turned gray and the wind picked up considerably. (Read with a foreboding tone.)
We hit a rocky section but nobody thought this kind of stuff could last long. So we bounced our way onward. We crossed a stream several times. The non-rocky sections became fewer in number and shorter in duration. There were numerous small ledges. I began dropping my bike.
Sorry Steve-o, last thing on JTs mind was snapping pix. But I grabbed one of the bike down just for you.
I think the third time down my foot got pinned under the bike in a painful way. JT got to me quickly but it didn’t feel like it when I was sure my lower leg was slowly being broken. Once up tho, no broken bones, just a bruised ankle. And shaken confidence.
Now the fear of aggravating the injury or damaging the bike to the point it became inop was topmost in my mind. I rode again, but soon JT was riding his bike for a section then walking back to mine leapfrog fashion as the rocky trail went on and on, up and down with no break. LS would ride ahead then walk back, moving rocks in places where it would help the most. Walking this trail, esp in our heavy boots was no picnic, you had to look and plan every step.
****vids jt crossing stream on klx, 33, then on mak 14
JT on mak downhill, 10
We were concerned about the bike’s relatively low ground clearance, I had bashed the skid plate pretty hard already, then JT smacked it hard a time or two. We kept an eye out for oil leaks. Concern about that made JT’s job more strenuous; having to maneuver the bike around or over the biggest drops. Sometimes stopping to build up a drop-IF he could get to a place where he could put the kickstand down.
Meanwhile, I limped along the trail, helping move rocks, sometimes riding either mine or JTs bike when I could. Being on foot gave me a chance to notice some local flora. We were in what I call “twisted piñon” country. I saw one log about 6” in diameter and 8’ long, perfectly twisted like a barber pole its entire length. I really wanted to drag it out of there and bring it home.
***pix***dead piñon, flora, lichens
I've never noticed lichens growing in this circular pattern.
Later muchachos!
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