We were going to get up at 0400 and start the bikes then return to bed. In this fashion, we could watch all the riders peep out of their slumber like meerkats standing on their hindlegs looking over the African horizon. Instead, we wait a bit longer to load up and hit the trail side. We know that today will be a bit unrelenting with 283 miles to our next lodge safehaven.
The air is thick with movement. With the late snow melt, apparently we are in the height of the black fly season. We have been a tasty 4-course meal for them, and I can only long for the sanctuary of the indoors at the next the lodge. But their damage is done. Riding with an open face shield has scooped them into the rider's hairline the day before much like sperm whale opens its cavernous mouth to gulp plankton. The combination of black fly bites, sweat and pressure for the helmet will create a skin rash comparable to a polio victim in the final throes of death.
The first 40 miles of track today will be on the Skidoo trail system. The track is delightfully fun to ride and has some very interesting scenery, and probably the highlight of my trip. It's not overy technical, but has plenty to keep you watching out for as you navigate through the crevices, ruts and ditches. But it will take a few hours before pop out the town of Parent.
The air is thick with movement. With the late snow melt, apparently we are in the height of the black fly season. We have been a tasty 4-course meal for them, and I can only long for the sanctuary of the indoors at the next the lodge. But their damage is done. Riding with an open face shield has scooped them into the rider's hairline the day before much like sperm whale opens its cavernous mouth to gulp plankton. The combination of black fly bites, sweat and pressure for the helmet will create a skin rash comparable to a polio victim in the final throes of death.
The first 40 miles of track today will be on the Skidoo trail system. The track is delightfully fun to ride and has some very interesting scenery, and probably the highlight of my trip. It's not overy technical, but has plenty to keep you watching out for as you navigate through the crevices, ruts and ditches. But it will take a few hours before pop out the town of Parent.
The trail not only has nice changes in elevation, but also mixes up the surfaces a bit too!
But perhaps that biggest pity is that the trail no longer has any open water crossings. I suppose though that is does prevent R1200GS' from deciding to Duck boat into the only open water crossing, only to eventually seize the motor a few days later. But experience is what you get, when you don't get what you want.
The first bit of Skidoo trail used to culminate with a darling hand-cranked trolley traversing the river. As one can imagine, the relability was not the highest with that contraption. It also didn't work in high water and often just didn't work at all. In fact, I am bummed to report I've never successfully navigated on it. But the ultimate undoing of the trolley, was two people somehow were able to load 2 UTVs on the trolley. I guess they were loading by volume and not weight. Somewhere between the two river banks, the trolley got a bit pear shaped and dumped over. The really sad part was the both riders lost their lives, as apparently the only thing better than their load-master skills was their lack of ability to swim. But there is now a very nice, all condition bridge in its' place.
We were given but one solid bit of advice from the Rallymaster during the pre-rider brief.
Have Fun, Don't Die!
Really it sounded so easy when the words were spoken. We got this! However, you know that 31 riders all have their own good idea fairies. So, over the next 72 hrs we decided to take fate into our hands. The tally at last count:
--One KTM broken fuel tank valve
Okay, supposedly it started pissing fuel out of the right side tank for no apparent reason. Hey it is a KTM, they probably all do that.
--Honda Africa Twin broken both right side foot pegs
Apparently, coming into to a corner a bit hot will result in a low-side removing both the rider and passenger foot pegs. Despite only a few KMS from the local Honda dealer, the late model bike (2016) already had a design change so their were no parts on hand. But your MacGyver-type repair job of adding the highway peg was admired by all.
--One broken clavicle
One enterprising team elected completely ditch the Roaming Rally route and found their own path into Clova using some local intel on a Skidoo trail. That would have been a marvelous execution had it not been for a misshapen rock be left at the last stop sign before rejoining the main track. The rock was apparently too appetizing not to get a closer inspection resulting a seemingly small tipover. A tipover which got diversion to Mont Laurier ER to X-ray the broken clavicle. But the neat thing about clavicle breaks is everyone I know that has had one has amazing posture after the bone is healed, as they put you in the torture device that holds your shoulder back during healing.
--One broken ankle
One rider, (and I can neither confirm nor deny that it may or may not have been our team) decided to look for pennies. Not 30 minutes into the ride, just a quick distraction from the sandy trail, the next rut just threw you on the ground in epic style. Apparently, Germans have absolutely no eloquence when falling preferring just to land on Terra-firma much like a sack of raw potatoes lands.
Have Fun, Don't Die!
Really it sounded so easy when the words were spoken. We got this! However, you know that 31 riders all have their own good idea fairies. So, over the next 72 hrs we decided to take fate into our hands. The tally at last count:
--One KTM broken fuel tank valve
Okay, supposedly it started pissing fuel out of the right side tank for no apparent reason. Hey it is a KTM, they probably all do that.
--Honda Africa Twin broken both right side foot pegs
Apparently, coming into to a corner a bit hot will result in a low-side removing both the rider and passenger foot pegs. Despite only a few KMS from the local Honda dealer, the late model bike (2016) already had a design change so their were no parts on hand. But your MacGyver-type repair job of adding the highway peg was admired by all.
--One broken clavicle
One enterprising team elected completely ditch the Roaming Rally route and found their own path into Clova using some local intel on a Skidoo trail. That would have been a marvelous execution had it not been for a misshapen rock be left at the last stop sign before rejoining the main track. The rock was apparently too appetizing not to get a closer inspection resulting a seemingly small tipover. A tipover which got diversion to Mont Laurier ER to X-ray the broken clavicle. But the neat thing about clavicle breaks is everyone I know that has had one has amazing posture after the bone is healed, as they put you in the torture device that holds your shoulder back during healing.
--One broken ankle
One rider, (and I can neither confirm nor deny that it may or may not have been our team) decided to look for pennies. Not 30 minutes into the ride, just a quick distraction from the sandy trail, the next rut just threw you on the ground in epic style. Apparently, Germans have absolutely no eloquence when falling preferring just to land on Terra-firma much like a sack of raw potatoes lands.
When in the Canadian wilderness (or any wilderness at all for that matter), you'd best partake in any stops for provisions that you find. On this journey, we visit the little town of Clova for fuel. Much like a convict escaping a high security facility, we must keep our breaks to a minimum. The track is still long and the rear of the pack is in the hunt. Lest we get caught in after dark or in a dust storm from other riders. Leaving Clova, the trail opens up a bit. We feel like we ride like giants, that is until we pass a sign advising trucks over 60 Tonnes to take care. Really, seriously I can't imagine being that truck driver!
We pop out the woods and the trail ends the way it usually does. About 100KMs on high-speed gravel. At least the Black Flies can't seem to see through the dust storm to eat me in my helmet! And although we never see it, the dastardly road grader has been here recently.
It's been a fantastic 10 hrs of riding, but I have to admit that I am bit grateful to arrive at the lodge. We are first in and that means we have the pick of the litter for rooms. The lodge is not not as fancy in either decor nor food palet, but its' still a very nice place to recuperate for the evening.
It's late in the afternoon. James, our Rallymaster (puppeteer?) is out of his riding armor and comfortably lounging on the leather sofa. Having just finished his first cold beer, he takes a good look over the balcony at the bikes below. Less than half the riders have arrived at the rendezvous point and only a few hours remain before the sky drops into total darkness. However, James' most pressing issue is that he can't decide whether he wants another beer or maybe a quick nap before dinner. We do have a good chuckle about that one, and I do appreciate the mind of the Rallymaster always concerned about his troops :-)