About a month ago I bought a 2003 KLR650. Originally, I'd intended to sell my SV650S and keep the KLR as my only bike. After riding them both though, I knew I just couldn't do it. So now I have two bikes. The KLR is like a jeep, the SV, like a corvette. Which is great, right?
Mostly, yes. Unfortunately the KLR kind of sucks for putting in long miles on the road, which to get to any decent dirt from the bay area you have to do. Oh well, some things you just have to do.
Of course, nobody tells you exactly what you're getting into beforehand...
Since I knew I'd be traveling for work during the last week of July and the first week of August, I was in a rush to get the new bike out in the dirt. Where to go, though? There's not a lot of dirt in or near the bay, so I'd have to go farther afield, but California is a big place... Well, after getting my Subie I'd taken it on a roadtrip with Erica that took us to some pretty out of the way spots, such as Loope Canyon Road, which lies off Highway 89 on the way up to Monitor Pass; our detour back there had taken us up a pretty rough dirt road to the top of a mountain and we'd looked around a little bit, but it was nearly dark by that point, so we had to bail. Thus I had an idea of where I wanted to go exploring.
I started off reasonably early from Kathy's place in Fremont (around 7am, as I recall). I hate 880 & 580, so I spent a little extra time taking 84 from Fremont over to 280, then blasted north on 280 until I hit 580/205. This took me over the Altamont pass and across the central valley. I basically took the route you'd take to get to Kirkwood - in fact, I stopped there to look around and see what the place looks like sans snow. (It's very pretty.) From there I took 88 down to the Markleevill turnoff. I stopped in Markleeville for gas, and from there the adventure began.
From looking at some Jeep sites I knew that there was an entrance to Loope Canyon and the route that is called the "Barney Riley Trail" from 89 when you're heading away from Markleeville, but I didn't know what turnoff it was. I took one, but it ended up being a dead end, so when I passed another just before the 89 turnoff toward Monitor, I skipped it. I blasted up the twisties on 89 until I hit Loope Canyon road. There I turned off.
Now, when Erica and I had visited previously, we'd detoured fairly quickly off of Loope Canyon Rd. to the left, because we'd seen a road that quite obviously went up a smallish mountain. Wanting to see what exactly I'd done to my brand new car back then, I headed that way as well, with a quick stop to undo my jacket and have a drink of water. It's worth noting that at this point, despite the fact that it was before noon, it was easily 95, and I was wearing a cordura jacket and pants with very little ventilation. It was freaking hot.
Following this short bit of prep, I started my first real offroad ride. I headed up this rutted, switchbacking track that led up to the plateau of this peak, where Erica and I had stopped before turning back last year. All the way up, I shook my head in amazement at the ruts, rocks, and roots that I'd driven my brand new car across. At the same time, never having ridden on anything rougher than a dirt driveway, pretty much, I was keeping a near-stranglehold on the bars and trying constantly not to spin the (nearly bald and street-oriented) rear tire.
After 20 minutes or so of this, I reached the point where we'd stopped and turned around the car.
I walked around a little bit, gawking at the fact that here I was again, and how I couldn't believe I'd driven up here... Then it was time to start exploring again! So I hopped on the KLR, revved her up, and started poking around. There appeared to be a somewhat disused (and steep, and loose) trail leading up to the very top, so I turned my trusty steed skyward and blasted toward the steep part. Halfway there, I remembered reading someplace about standing up on dirt bikes, and this seemed like not a bad plan as the steep part approached, so up I got... This nearly tossed me off the back of the bike of course, because I didn't have my weight far enough forward. I did manage to hold on though, and I was eventually rewarded by the view from what probably amounted to another 50 feet up. Still cool to have reached the top of a "mountain", though.
Now for the descent! Errr... Shit, my rear tire is nearly bald, I am bad with the rear brake, and I don't want to wash out the front end; what the hell do I do? Sit back, use 1st gear, and go light on the brakes. Not great, but not terrible. Little did I know that this was a mild preview of the rest of the day.
So Loope Canyon road leads up into the mountains and ends up I don't know where. But before leaving I'd looked up a little bit about the Barney Riley trail, which seemed doable. Of course, I neglected to print or write down any directions, so I was just guessing. I did recall, however, that I should follow Loope Canyon road up to FR190 and then take that turn. Loope Canyon is really pretty mild, no obstacles to speak of, fairly wide and well graded. It did get a bit bumpier further in, but even so it was not a problem. This all changed when I hit the FR190 turnoff. It got significantly steeper, and the "road" was more of a jeep track, littered with volleyball-sized rocks. Now, I don't think I would have had too much trouble here even so, but my semi-slick rear tire was once again giving me trouble. At a couple of points I actually had to get off and half lift the bike up over rocks when the rear tire was on loose dirt with a largish rock in front.
After making it to the top of this hill, I descended a bit and then ended up in a wide, high valley and took a breather.
You didn't think that was the end, did you? Oh no. After the break is when the real excitement started. I wound slowly down FR190B through the herd of cattle until I came to a turnoff to the left, also marked 190B. Of course, this would be the road the looks to be in complete disrepair and getting worse from disuse. There was grass growing in the tire tracks, etc. But it didn't look that bad, so I dutifully followed the sign and GPS and turned off. At first, no problem. In fact, I was going reasonably quick, and it smoothed out some. I had a great view of the mountains too. And more cows.
And then I got a great view of my first major "oh shit" moment. From here pictures are lacking, because I was either too busy trying not to crash or picking myself up from crashing. The hill was steep, it was rough. I saw this, but it didn't look much worse than what I'd come up, so it didn't make sense to me to head back the way I'd come. If only I'd known. As I descended further it only got more rough and more steep. To make it a bit more exciting, it even added in some sharp corners with large rocks. And of course, it was in one of these that I dumped the KLR the first time. It wasn't that big a deal; I managed to hop off and pretty much end up standing. But the hill had drawn first blood: my left rear turn signal was a shattered mess on the trail.
Now, I did buy the bike to abuse, so I can deal with that. No biggy. But crap, have you ever tried picking up a 340+ pound motorcycle at high altitude on a steep, rough hill? Trust me, it's something you want to avoid. However, as I learned, it is doable, even repeatedly. I managed to make it down the rest of this descent without biffing again, though I had a few close calls. I took a moment to cheer for myself, flip off the hill, and look at my GPS. I discovered that it wanted me to head off to the right at the fork, on a trail that looked reasonably doable. "Can do!", I thought, and hit the gas. I wound through bushes and over rocks for a bit before coming to a nice flat spot before a hill. I stopped there, and looked at the hill, and the only thing that came to mind was, "you have got to be shitting me."
I was looking at a slightly twisty, probably 1000 foot long stretch of rough dirt road that had to be at least 30 degrees. And I had bad tires and no previous dirt experience. Okay, so this sucks. Is there an alternate route? Not really. Looked like I was going to have to get back on FR190B and head back out to Loope Canyon road again. Now, this is another one of those times when I wish I'd taken a photo, because I'm sure nobody's going to believe me, but I swear that it was that steep. It was just insane. Anyway, I headed back toward Loope Canyone, and took the new segment of FR190B. Once again, I was pleasantly surprised. It wasn't too rough, or too steep. Then I crested the ridge.
What I found staring me in the face was a nice, steep, rock strewn, loose set of switchbacks. I didn't think it was too bad. I told myself to just take it easy, try to use the rear brake, not lock it up. And at first that's just what I did. And then I found myself on my face. The front wheel had hit a largish rock and I'd lost the front end, landing the bike on the drive side. I hoisted it up, started it up, and headed down again. Got to a corner, lost it again, on the same side.
Now, you've got to understand, I hadn't eaten anything but a muffin and a couple of Gu packets all day. It was high altitude. I was insanely hot, and ridiculously tired, not even accounting for the bruises I'd previously acquired. I stood there and fumed for a few minutes, dusted myself off, and eventually got the bike vertical again. Of course, at this point though I was on the wrong side! I was on the low side, with high ground on the opposite side, but nothing to lean it against. If I let go, it would fall in the bushes and I'd be doubly screwed. Despite all this, I was eventually able to sort of hop on and stabilize myself. I cranked it a few times, and eventually got the motor running again. Problem solved and I'd go slow and cautious, right?
No, not really. Time to wipe out another 20 feet down the trail.
And this fall was pretty nasty. The bike tossed me onto some rocks so I was really glad I was wearing gear, but my left ankle somehow got tangled by the fork and I twisted it, though fortunately not badly. I also had some scrapes and dirt everywhere. I untangled myself, and lay there on the ground for a while, just trying not to bust out in tears. I don't know if any of you have ever reached a point where there is nobody but you, and you're so tired and frustrated that you just want to give up, but I was pretty damn close. I reflected on what and idiot I was to be out there alone. What a pig the KLR was. How lucky I was I hadn't actually just broken something. Whether the bike would start up again this time.
I guess in retrospect, this is what an adventure is. But damned if I wasn't just miserable at the time.
Finally, after perhaps 20 minutes, I got up and set to righting the bike. The carnage was impressive in what it was... But perhaps more impressive in what it wasn't. Despite 4 falls on the same side, the damage appeared to be mostly limited to some scrapes and the destroyed turn signal. This last fall had also bent the front break lever a bit, partially broken the right side fairing, and scraped up the engine case a bit. The plastic cover over the rear brake reservoir was bent, but the reservoir was okay. I have to hand it to Kawasaki, the KLR is one hell of a durable beast.
When I got the bike up this time and finally got on, I noticed something else a bit off. It took me a moment, but what I finally realized was that the forks were torqued. I had to keep them at maybe a 25 degree angle to have the front wheel be straight. Fantabulous! And me with the crappy KLR toolkit with tools missing. The bike did start up though, and this time I decided that I would just coast down in neutral, which I did. It was a long, slow trip out to the paved road, but I made it without further incident. At that point, it was simply a matter of slowly putting my way back to Markleeville on my abused and crooked KLR.
Lunch involved a large Fat Tire and more food than I'd normally eat in two sittings, but damned if I didn't need it. After eating, I headed toward 88 in search of a rock and some space where I could prop the bike up and straighten the forks out. I did eventually find such a spot, and spent another half hour or so hacking together a combination of tools and a leaning strategy that allowed me to make a good field repair:
Not much to report for the trip home, aside from the fact that it was long and tiring as hell. I stopped and dipped my feet in the river for a bit, and then stopped every now and then for a break on the 3+ hour ride back. If somebody had offered to trade me a car for the bike during that ride, I think I would have done it without hesitation, but in retrospect, I'm glad that didn't come up. :)
So, the final tally for the damage to the KLR is the turn signal, a fairing in need of some epoxying, many scratches and scrapes, countless bugs, hurt pride, and, joy, an oil leak around the water pump. It looks like I jarred something loose during one of the falls, so I'll need to have those seals replaced and things checked out. But overall, I am impressed with the KLR, and I learned any number of lessons. Next time I'll be better prepared. And there will be a next time!
