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My sheetiron 300 experience...
My Ass Hurts...
This weekend Cyndi (my wife) and I ran the Oakland Motorcycle Club's annual SheetIron 300. It's a 300 mile two day off road run looping through Northern California. This year it started in Stonyford, CA looped through some amazing terrain into Ukiah, then into Fort Bragg for the night. Sunday morning rode from Ft. Bragg back to Stonyford through Covello.
Needless to say, this ride really is a demonstration of the 7 P's. (Prior Proper Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance) Having started a new job on Monday and working late most nights, I managed to barely prep the bikes (I on the XR650R and Cyndi on the XR400) and it bit me in the ass. This was first noticed when doing a hill climb decent and my rear brake sunk to the metal. (for those of you street riders, the rear brake is pretty much the only one used when off road). I had to continuoulsy bang the bike down in to first gear and dump the clutch to lock the rear to get a proper slide going. Now imagine 80 miles of this. Yeah... lots of fun. We make it to Ukiah where I check my brakes and notice the rear pads aren't as shot as I thought. Strage, given I had ZERO brakes. We replace the pads and figure I was good to go.
Next run was into Ft Bragg via all sorts of nice forrest trails. Much more mellow than the difficult rated single track we were on in the first part of the day, but still a challenge when once again my fucking rear brake pedal sunk to the metal. Ok... Something's up here. New pads, there's got to be an air bubble in the hydrolic line. I manage to get enough pressure in the brake lines and had adapted to pumping the brakes up before any major decent, as well mixing in the "drop the clutch in 1st" method of locking up the rear end in order for us to make it into Ft. Bragg.
Upon checking into the Super8 motel (classy, I tells ya) I see this flyer welcoming the Sheetiron riders to town and that a local bike shop is open till 8pm. (6 pm now). I'm stoked. I head on over and check out the little hole in the wall shop, which is just what I needed. The mechanic is a moto X racer who was happy to throw my XR650R up on a stand and go over it. We bleed the rear brake (with only a disappointingly small air bubble emerging in the line) but replace the now 5 year old fluid anyways. I decided a new front tire was in order too since they were there and the front end had cost me several tucks that day anyways.
I'm now all set and head back to the hotel for dinner. We headed to the brewery in town which is probably the nicest restraunt in town, a place where we ate after Cyndi and I got engaged a few years ago. The meal was disappointingly bland. I guess the biker scum overran the place so quality took a hit. oh well. We got back to the hotel room where we had expected to see the SFMC guys up and partying, but the entire hotel was quiet. Everyone was sacked out by 930 pm.
Up the next day at 6:00, on the bikes at 7. Drop off our overnight bag at the OMC truck that hauls everyone's shit, and we're off on a great set of dirt roads out of town towards Willits. I'm on it this morning. I have brakes, my bike's runnning great. I'm really up to pace. I blast through what's referred to as "the Tank Trap", a set up uphill wet rutted areas, with ease. I'm passing all sorts of bikes with perfect form and well executed push turns. I felt great. We get to the first reset point (We each have a roll chart that tells us where to go, based on odometer readings, and at each reset point you reset the odo). I'm feeling great. Cyndi, who had been outriding me yesterday (since I had no brakes) comes in only a bit being me. She's riding well too. We head out on the next section which will eventually link us back to Hwy 101. I'm ON it.
Gravel Road, up a hill and a sharp right turn I wasn't expecting. I'm heading right towards a barb wire fence. I chop, I get hard on the brakes.
I fuck up.
The bike pitches the rear end out, It catches and then winds up like a spring. It lets go flinging me over the bars like a sack of potatoes. I landed rolling from my head and onto my back, taking at least 2 complete tumbles before laying to rest right on the line. Cyndi and a whole pack of riders come around the corner and damn near run me over. I rebooted and pick myself up, getting out of the way of the nearly 500 bikes that potentially will come around that corner in the next hour or so. I stand the bike up and take dammage assessment. For the most part, the bike is ok except one critical problem... The handlebars are bent to shit. The right side is doing it's best to imitate a set of roadrace clip-ons, where the left is a stand up dirt bike bar.
I've no choice. I fire up the bike and continue on. The next two turns are lefts which I have no problem with, then a right comes and it's hopeless to put a decent steering input into the bike. I go right off the road. SHIT. Time to slow way down.
I had to continue this pokey pace, but actually felt ok when we reached highway 101 and the link to the paved road into Covello. There was a last minute edit to the route due to a washout which took the paved road, which I was thankful for. Not having to slide the bike made things much easier.
My Ass Hurts...
This weekend Cyndi (my wife) and I ran the Oakland Motorcycle Club's annual SheetIron 300. It's a 300 mile two day off road run looping through Northern California. This year it started in Stonyford, CA looped through some amazing terrain into Ukiah, then into Fort Bragg for the night. Sunday morning rode from Ft. Bragg back to Stonyford through Covello.
Needless to say, this ride really is a demonstration of the 7 P's. (Prior Proper Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance) Having started a new job on Monday and working late most nights, I managed to barely prep the bikes (I on the XR650R and Cyndi on the XR400) and it bit me in the ass. This was first noticed when doing a hill climb decent and my rear brake sunk to the metal. (for those of you street riders, the rear brake is pretty much the only one used when off road). I had to continuoulsy bang the bike down in to first gear and dump the clutch to lock the rear to get a proper slide going. Now imagine 80 miles of this. Yeah... lots of fun. We make it to Ukiah where I check my brakes and notice the rear pads aren't as shot as I thought. Strage, given I had ZERO brakes. We replace the pads and figure I was good to go.
Next run was into Ft Bragg via all sorts of nice forrest trails. Much more mellow than the difficult rated single track we were on in the first part of the day, but still a challenge when once again my fucking rear brake pedal sunk to the metal. Ok... Something's up here. New pads, there's got to be an air bubble in the hydrolic line. I manage to get enough pressure in the brake lines and had adapted to pumping the brakes up before any major decent, as well mixing in the "drop the clutch in 1st" method of locking up the rear end in order for us to make it into Ft. Bragg.
Upon checking into the Super8 motel (classy, I tells ya) I see this flyer welcoming the Sheetiron riders to town and that a local bike shop is open till 8pm. (6 pm now). I'm stoked. I head on over and check out the little hole in the wall shop, which is just what I needed. The mechanic is a moto X racer who was happy to throw my XR650R up on a stand and go over it. We bleed the rear brake (with only a disappointingly small air bubble emerging in the line) but replace the now 5 year old fluid anyways. I decided a new front tire was in order too since they were there and the front end had cost me several tucks that day anyways.
I'm now all set and head back to the hotel for dinner. We headed to the brewery in town which is probably the nicest restraunt in town, a place where we ate after Cyndi and I got engaged a few years ago. The meal was disappointingly bland. I guess the biker scum overran the place so quality took a hit. oh well. We got back to the hotel room where we had expected to see the SFMC guys up and partying, but the entire hotel was quiet. Everyone was sacked out by 930 pm.
Up the next day at 6:00, on the bikes at 7. Drop off our overnight bag at the OMC truck that hauls everyone's shit, and we're off on a great set of dirt roads out of town towards Willits. I'm on it this morning. I have brakes, my bike's runnning great. I'm really up to pace. I blast through what's referred to as "the Tank Trap", a set up uphill wet rutted areas, with ease. I'm passing all sorts of bikes with perfect form and well executed push turns. I felt great. We get to the first reset point (We each have a roll chart that tells us where to go, based on odometer readings, and at each reset point you reset the odo). I'm feeling great. Cyndi, who had been outriding me yesterday (since I had no brakes) comes in only a bit being me. She's riding well too. We head out on the next section which will eventually link us back to Hwy 101. I'm ON it.
Gravel Road, up a hill and a sharp right turn I wasn't expecting. I'm heading right towards a barb wire fence. I chop, I get hard on the brakes.
I fuck up.
The bike pitches the rear end out, It catches and then winds up like a spring. It lets go flinging me over the bars like a sack of potatoes. I landed rolling from my head and onto my back, taking at least 2 complete tumbles before laying to rest right on the line. Cyndi and a whole pack of riders come around the corner and damn near run me over. I rebooted and pick myself up, getting out of the way of the nearly 500 bikes that potentially will come around that corner in the next hour or so. I stand the bike up and take dammage assessment. For the most part, the bike is ok except one critical problem... The handlebars are bent to shit. The right side is doing it's best to imitate a set of roadrace clip-ons, where the left is a stand up dirt bike bar.
I've no choice. I fire up the bike and continue on. The next two turns are lefts which I have no problem with, then a right comes and it's hopeless to put a decent steering input into the bike. I go right off the road. SHIT. Time to slow way down.
I had to continue this pokey pace, but actually felt ok when we reached highway 101 and the link to the paved road into Covello. There was a last minute edit to the route due to a washout which took the paved road, which I was thankful for. Not having to slide the bike made things much easier.
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