Motobeerdog Weekend - El Segundo....

More of the same awesome funnest way to get lost in the woods:

The team, which can be explained better over here and here, with two new members, gathered in the woods north of McCall Idaho this time. Ready and willing to tackle some laughter and late evening excitement to keep riding even though the light is almost completely gone.

Rule #1: No 2-strokes.

Apparently we suck at enforcing rules. We found this dude working at the city and snuck him out fer some real rednecking, and tried so hard to get him to shut up about Vermont. I dont think he can? Thats Brad fer ya.

SOB came out too, loving life and ready to fix some 600. But as it usually goes, it didnt fix, which is why we have so many dang bikes. On the 250 he tore it up. On foot, we both sucked air felt like poop. That being said we came to ride not hike, Period.

So we found ourselves up at Loon lake, the scene of a bomber wreck in the "long time ago" time period. We had to hike all the way over to the other side of the lake, in riding boots, which as far as I can tell are not made for walking. Its hot out too.


A B-23 is supposed to look like this:

What we found looked like a significantly smaller, crumpled, mangled mess of aluminum. Most of the important stuff had been removed and the cool stuff pillaged by visitors. Lame. A cooler part of the story was how the crew had wrecked in a giant snow storm, landed on the frozen lake, slid into the woods ripping the wings off and managed to stay alive and warm by cutting trees for firewood with a big .50 caliber machine gun from the plane. Tight.

So we continued riding, continued racing up the Carey Dome Lookout road, with or without millions of Landrovers, and cooked and ate really good yet gross looking concoctions from the outdoor kitchen, mostly made up of leftovers from the night before. Zambi guarded the camp from chipmunks. On the last day we were gonna head up to towards Riggins and hit the Hard/Hazard Creeks Trails for the sweet inverted switchbacks and such. Thankfully on the way out we decided through a haze of exhaustion that burgers and beer would feel better. They did. That night Brian and SOB took off on the long journey south, dreaming of singletrack, thumpers and whiskey. Im sure B also thought about that "youre the only one who hasnt wrecked yet" comment. We're bastards, I know.

The next day G and I continued the mission and headed up the H&H trails and made it to what I think is called Hard Peak, or Squirrel Square Britches Mountain.

This where I give major credit to Amsoil. When I rebuilt my top end earlier this spring and broke in the piston rings with some crap oil, I needed some new good stuff, and I couldnt find the Silkolene I used to be running. Back in LA at the Husky shop, old man was telling about oil with zinc being the best, so I found Amsoil and wow, it really works. Between the new rings and amsoil I no longer have to change my oil after every other ride, and it stays buttery gold in color. Impressed. I did manage to puke the radiator a couple times on climbs while watching G "mario kart" bounce up the trails ahead of me.

The struggle

Like Brian sez: videos to come....

Main Salmon!....Biznackowiches!....

So I think I previously mentioned that we tried the Main again. This much lower and with much more beer. In fact so much more that there was extras at the end. And no one wanted any. Too much....

So last time, the water peaked with us there at about 84,000 cfs, and all was crazy. This time the water peaked at about 4,000 cfs, and all was ridiculous. Saw a bear, and brought the dogs, and pushed them out, and cracked a fresh cold one at 9 am, everyday.

By the time we got down to Yellow Pine Bar, their neighbor and friend Steve was already there. This is the same guy who gave us his truck and trailer to drive out of the Whitewater ranch. Rad dude. Well, he informed us that the day we left the rive came up some more and was probably about in the range of 100,000+ cfs with 100 footer trees coming downstream. Ugh. So yeah we ran into those guys and hooked em up with some beer stuff and liqour for their amazing kindness and helpfulness. Insert "rad" anywhere in this paragraph.


Theres a lot more stories, but considering I have close to no pics of the events, I dont like to tell em. The Pano above had great fishing. Nate was catching 4 for 4, and then nothing. He must have caught em all or something. There was also the day when we were all leapfrogging in the boats and just gabbing our way down the river. Oblivious. Our boat fell behind a bit to the point we couldnt even see the other guys. And then a couple hours later, and lucky we didnt miss her, there was Amanda passed out on a giant rock in the middle of the river. She would have had a nice swim if we missed her....

One of the main scary rapids that decided out fates last time was barely even present this time. Whiplash is called a IV-V S-turn rapid with monster eddie fences and undercuts and currents to deal with. The first trip our neighboring guides informed us that their 18 foot boats were too small and that they recommended tying the boats together for that rapid....are you fucking crazy? No way..... This time it was a flat pool next to a wall. Hmmpff....

The good rapids this time around were Salmon Falls, which was flat big water last time, and Elkhorn, which was fairly long and maneuverable and moist. Gonna have to do this stretch again....and again....

Updateables....

So with all the adventure coming to a close, I figured this would be a great time to spread the wealth of it, via pictures and stories. But theres a problem. That problem starts with my camera and its card. And my early lack of caffeine....

First off I planned on taking all kinds of pics on the Main Salmon to compare to the high water pics from last time. Unfortunately and fortunately, with Nate on the trip, I was was blasted everyday and never actually pulled my camera out. I imagine being in the state of mind my folks would be in at my age when they went to the lake for extended weekends before I was around. Anyways the camera has this card extender so it fits in the computer for download, and that piece is now gone. I MacGruber'd it with some tape and that worked for a while but now the card has a chip in the plastic and wont read on my computer....only other ones. So til then its no photo time.

About the other explorations that I havent covered lately: In the spring Garrett and I did some post snow biking over by Riggins that actually had tons of snow. We stayed at Camp Confluence where Hard creek and Hazard creek meet up. Pretty sweet. Look for that story soon.
Then Most recently we had the Motobeerdog Weekend Second Annual up in the Warren area and it kicked so much ass that my body is just starting to recover from dehydration and muscle fatigue. Half of the team took off back to CA and G and I still hada day to putt around so we headed back to the Hazard area and found ourselves on this black diamond motobike trail getting served. For the first time in the history of owning my 450 I blew the radiator 3 times, and had to jog my bike past the crux while kicking the peg and laughing with blood everywhere.

Other progressions include a new to me camper that is completely worthless and a potential job in the McCall area surveying. Hope it works. I havent lived in snow for a long long time, so I guess I better get some skis for some sick backcountry madness.

So stay in touch(e) as the updates come pouring in like maple syrup in -30 degrees....

Holy Hand Grenades....

So with the fall and rise of rain and rivers comes a new documentary chapter in the Parts Czeching. Over many a beers, Brian and I decided I should write more. I mean in LA with all the uberskilled peeps running around, why not. Besides, I have all the time in world. So this is the beginning of the next chapter. In between Ive been trying to learn how to spell, or type, or both.

I finally escaped from NM. Whew....

Next, my travels brought me to an interesting little youth camp deep in the redwoods just off the California coast. It was here that I managed to haphazardly met Lester (and Robin) while attempting to change the 4 gallons of oil on the Apocalypse.

You cant see it but theres a towing winch
built on the to the back of the cart!

A little background on Lester: Hes awesome, period. He used to be the camp's maintenance everything guy. Hes built the upper stories on the house he lives in now and the neighboring house. He has approx 5 antennas for his HAM radio communications, and he considers welding with a torch a form of art. He has an arc welder too. In fact he has everything. And all this everything I am trying to help load and move. And by everything I mean everything that he has been storing for the past 40 years.

I have been loading up pallets of old pipe fittings, 60 year old lumber and little blocks, and partially broken concrete tiles and snippets of wire and rusty cans of all variations of liquid toxins. Most of which are really good at removing paint or applying it. The funny part is he remembers everything's story, and if I ask (which I do) he'll tell whatever I want to know. Just like when I pulled a cardboard box off the shelf, I asked. He explained about how back when he met Robin he cut, split and sold a cord of wood with a hand saw, and used the money to buy a electric chainsaw (in the box) which he could then run off Robin's generator. Moments later he showed me the metal bands used to construct her geodesic dome. There was no tool for them so he didnt know whether he should keep em or not. So he did keep em, like the giant iron oxyacetylene pipe gun. Doesn't work anymore, but well bring it anyway.

Hes showed me his own photo album too. The time the bobcat rolled off a cliff and was caught by 3 trees. the time he rolled the 30 foot trailer on black ice and his son got mangled by the unrelease mechanism. the original pics of Robin, him and his oldest son in the 1938 Ford Flatbed. The same flatbed in the container that Ill be driving to Joe later this year.

Bobcat and Ford cab in the same photo, w00t!!
The same one that rolled off the road!

We dig into another pile of parts and chemicals aged by rust and acidic redwood duff and find dens and dead rats, liquids with undisclosed contents, and a bar that his son made so that Lester could attach a trailer to the xr250. The same bike that has been given to me for my help in the matter. Which brings us to why I might be needed here....

One day, asking about the condition of Lester's back, he responded about how he thinks it got to the injured condition it is today. Turns out he lifted 4 cast iron bathtubs and a lawn tractor to change the tire in a single day. He didnt get out of bed for 5 months after that. Now I do all the lifting of the 22 sets of tire chains. His rock collection from every camping trip ever. Random rusty pipes. Plastic mystery everything and a box who knows I dont wanna ask stuff.

A little crack in the morning?

So far through some free time and sweat equity I have inherited a camper and some motorcycles. So now I have a permanently moving home and some more bikes for Brian's garage. But theres much work to do, like pulling some antennas off the roof and tearing around in the bobcat which he gets to enjoy watching me enjoy learning how to drive. Weird that I haven't before. Piece of cake really.



We also get to enjoy air power-assisted fire waste management:


Finally I get to end the day with a beer and start a new one fresh with some eggs and coffee!

Overload....

The first wood run with the pickup proved that the 'flunder was up to the task, if only just once. It rode on the axle the whole way home. Either way its still fun to lower the tire pressure and do some high speed laps on the mesa.
Before we left to cut I was checking the tranny fluid and was warming it up in gear when this happened. Funny.

If you havent seen the beautiful dogs lately, see them here. A MUST SEE