As the sun pops over the horizon, the forecast has taken a nose dive. It’s the coldest of the three mornings. While the parking lot of the Econolodge is filled with hustle and bustle, the energy is diverted from readying the sleds, to instead packing up.
We pass Bike128Pedal, the lucky duck whom won the REVIT jacket during last night’s raffle, in the breezeway. While he has dutifully submitted his preferred jacket size, he is also taking the George Costanza (Seinfield) approach--Leave on the high note! So he’s going to pack up for home, and apparently he’s not alone in that thought. Meanwhile, Blaster and I ready ourselves for the Sunday Morning sermon, in the good Lord JackSplash’s House of Motorcycles. The sermon is much you would expect from any Sunday morning sermon. Be kind to others, no good deed goes unpunished, the devil lays in wait and food…there is always food!
The rider meeting was lightly attended. And there were even fewer folks on the trails today. But those that were out, certainly felt invincible. We play leap frog groups of riders most of the morning, as the faster riders overtake us, only to realize that their navigation skills have miserably failed them. Meanwhile, Blaster and I plug along with our mantra---Slow is smooth and smooth is fast as we wave to them overtaking yet again.
There was one section, maybe ¼ mile long of deep sand. Blaster is having a better ride and gets out in front of me. Meanwhile, I think it’s time to look for some pennies, and again. At one point, a fellow that I had helped out during the morning meeting with how to “show tracks” his Montana, was going to return the favor. (Remember, no good deed goes unpunished) Being a bonafide shortypants, when the WR250 gets a bit off vertical I hardly ever prevent it from falling. He pulls up parallel to me, and was just going to give me a slight tug right. Except, we are both in the same soft sand. With that we become a Anaconda breeding ball, the KTM tangled on the WR, the KTM rider on the WR and the WR giggling as I snorkel all that sandy goodness up my helmet and sleeves.
We pass Bike128Pedal, the lucky duck whom won the REVIT jacket during last night’s raffle, in the breezeway. While he has dutifully submitted his preferred jacket size, he is also taking the George Costanza (Seinfield) approach--Leave on the high note! So he’s going to pack up for home, and apparently he’s not alone in that thought. Meanwhile, Blaster and I ready ourselves for the Sunday Morning sermon, in the good Lord JackSplash’s House of Motorcycles. The sermon is much you would expect from any Sunday morning sermon. Be kind to others, no good deed goes unpunished, the devil lays in wait and food…there is always food!
The rider meeting was lightly attended. And there were even fewer folks on the trails today. But those that were out, certainly felt invincible. We play leap frog groups of riders most of the morning, as the faster riders overtake us, only to realize that their navigation skills have miserably failed them. Meanwhile, Blaster and I plug along with our mantra---Slow is smooth and smooth is fast as we wave to them overtaking yet again.
There was one section, maybe ¼ mile long of deep sand. Blaster is having a better ride and gets out in front of me. Meanwhile, I think it’s time to look for some pennies, and again. At one point, a fellow that I had helped out during the morning meeting with how to “show tracks” his Montana, was going to return the favor. (Remember, no good deed goes unpunished) Being a bonafide shortypants, when the WR250 gets a bit off vertical I hardly ever prevent it from falling. He pulls up parallel to me, and was just going to give me a slight tug right. Except, we are both in the same soft sand. With that we become a Anaconda breeding ball, the KTM tangled on the WR, the KTM rider on the WR and the WR giggling as I snorkel all that sandy goodness up my helmet and sleeves.
A bit later in the day, my smoothness was further rewarded when I got perhaps a bit too close to lower branch. I was gobsmacked when the tree stopped me dead in my tracks. It was my good fortune of the rider behind me, as somehow the tree had entangled me preventing me from moving in a sensible direction. We arrive at lunch in excellent time, and bid our farewells. We need to be heading for home around 1400, and in another 1.5 hours, the sand dunes will be traded for high-speed tarmac.
Luck was a lady indeed, by the time we decided to turn for home, the track was completed! Nearly 460 miles of sandy goodness done. No sooner do the bikes get secured for transport and the truck drops into gear, the riders are flowing in and trotting over to the truck with delight. David is ecstatic to report his KLR completed the entire track today! He’s got such an amazingly bright outlook on the past few days, however, his helmet does appear to a bit worse for wear in the last 100 miles. Another rider we’d met today is a bit worse for the wear, but also enthusiastic that Christmas is only 42 days away and now he can justify what a good boy he’s been. His ulterior motive is to snooker the wife into some snazzy new riding kit.
The Pine Barrens is in the books, and with it the last official event of the season is over. I am plum tuckered out. Riding the sand for 460 miles really opens your eyes a bit. Yesterday, I owned slightly more sand...today the sand conquered most...meh.
Now, to get on getting the winter upgrade/fix list and to start wonderlusting the 2017 lineup....
Luck was a lady indeed, by the time we decided to turn for home, the track was completed! Nearly 460 miles of sandy goodness done. No sooner do the bikes get secured for transport and the truck drops into gear, the riders are flowing in and trotting over to the truck with delight. David is ecstatic to report his KLR completed the entire track today! He’s got such an amazingly bright outlook on the past few days, however, his helmet does appear to a bit worse for wear in the last 100 miles. Another rider we’d met today is a bit worse for the wear, but also enthusiastic that Christmas is only 42 days away and now he can justify what a good boy he’s been. His ulterior motive is to snooker the wife into some snazzy new riding kit.
The Pine Barrens is in the books, and with it the last official event of the season is over. I am plum tuckered out. Riding the sand for 460 miles really opens your eyes a bit. Yesterday, I owned slightly more sand...today the sand conquered most...meh.
Now, to get on getting the winter upgrade/fix list and to start wonderlusting the 2017 lineup....
