Gifford Rescue
05/09/09 10:25 Filed in: Motorcycle
Three weeks prior, Mr. Orange and I (42) decided to re-attempt a long standing impossible trail. #263 in the Gifford Pinchot national forrest. This trail had been taunting the both of us since last year when we were unable to make it up. You see, #263 if a nasty trail. So nasty, it's been dubbed "The Devil's Staircase" by the locals (Who we met in all their Yamaha Fat Cat group riding glory later in the day).
The trail started out as a simple cross-this-little-stream test right next to the road. Get across the stream and you're probably OK to continue riding. Only 1.5 miles into the trail though, and the test gets much harder! #263 turns into about a 1/2 mile 40 degree uphill rock climb consisting of roughly 6 stair-step rock sections. These sections are rideable, but only by those who are skilled in trials and who have no real concern for their safety. Neither Mr. Orange nor I fall into that category. So, we both helped each other to manually pull the bikes up each step until we reached the top.
What awaited us on top was, of course, the #1 boundary trail and connecting trail system. This is a truly awesome ride for anyone enthusiastic about Washington state trail riding. I had been planning this ride for a week and had mapped out a roughly 70 mile loop mostly consisting of the #1 trail and lower return trails. Extra gas was in the back pack and we were ready for anything.
Well, most anything. What I hadn't planned on was:
1. The 80A trail bridge across the Lewis River being washed out.
2. The entire lower trail section of Gifford having been turned into Hiker-Only trails.
The combination of these left both Mr. Orange and I in bind. Once we got to the lower trails, we realized that proceeding on the hiking trails would probably get us shot. Or at least get us stabbed by hiker poles in various nasty locations (Let your imagination run wild).
Not having enough gas to reverse course on the motorcycle trails, we had only one option. Take the State roads back to the truck. This involved about a 25 mile ride on public highways with two unlicensed dirt bikes. We were sure to get tickets, but what do you do?
Of course, only about 10 miles into our 'road trip', a Skamania County sheriff passed us by. We both sighed and waited for the inevitable. But what was this? He's not turning around? Oh wait... there he goes. 1/2 mile apart and he finally turns on the lights and heads our way. We both immediately pull over and wait (Sweating of course).
Amazingly, the officer was sympathetic to our plight. We explained the situation and came to realize that he actually wasn't going to have any issue with our attempt to get back. In fact, the officer had only turned around in order to warn us of a partial road washout down the highway. Can you believe that? Needless to say, this particular officer is high on my list of the coolest people in the world now! Thanks
---------------------------------------------------------------
Two weeks later, the gang decided to attempt a similar ride. This time though, we would do better. The plan was to avoid the lower trail system (And death by hiker pole) and attempt to enter the area from the Highway 25 side of Gifford.
I believe in my heart that I should now never be trusted to lead anyone anywhere, under any circumstance! What I thought would be easy access into the trail system turned out to be an adventure in trying to find a road access.
From the connection of the #1 boundary trail (Mile post 23 off of highway 25), the connection to #80 and #80A (A camp site where Mr. Orange and I though would be an opportune location to base out of two weeks earlier) seemed only a few extra miles away. WRONG! We searched and searched, but there's no connection between highway 25 and the inner roads until you get to approximately mile post 45! AHHH!
Well, we finally (After 2 extra hours) found the camp site and prepared to ride.
The riding was fun, to be sure. 80 degrees and sunny. We rode backwards on the trails hoping to find the Craggy Peak trail for a nice, leisurely 15 mile initial loop. Once found, we proceeded up to the Craggy and Beaver peaks. Unfortunately, near the very top, the trail because rather steep. On the 2nd from the switch back, Mr. Unfortunate had an unfortunate 'incident'. I had already made it to the top and was waiting for the rest of the gang. My motorcycle was turned off and I had just pulled my helmet off only to hear a faint noise followed by a simple statement by someone below...
"That didn't sound right!"
How can something not sound right? Let me tell you. When a motorcycle crashes, it makes a very distinctive noise. Usually, a quick 'crunch' sound followed by a series of loud four letter word utterances from the rider (Or groaning). Those are normal sounds one expects to hear when riding. But what was heard this time was not one of those sounds. No, the sound that was heard was more of a long series of scraping and banging sounds. Much to long to have been caused by any mere wipe out. These sounds came from a motorcycle that just went over the edge!
You may ask yourself... "Where were the swearing sounds?". Well, I suspect those were muffled by the shock settling in to Mr Unfortunate's psyche. We were all a bit shocked, yet thankful no 'body' had gone with this poor KTM over the edge.
The little trail ride had now turned into a rescue.
Having a bunch of smart people in the same place is usually a recipe for disaster. We inspected the bike (70 feet down a steep rock fall line) for almost an hour. Everyone was thinking of ways to haul it up. No one though had any idea how to do it. Certainly no one knew how not to get killed dragging a 250lb motorcycle up a rock face where it should never have been.
Thankfully, we all came to the conclusion that there was a need for equipment and time which no one had at the moment. The bike would have to wait in the woods for a week. It's position was not the worst it could have been. A few feet more and it would have been over a 2nd ledge. But it had instead settled in a series of saplings that prevented it from falling any farther down the slope. This bike was therefore a safe as it could be, given the situation. A week in the woods should be no problem and no one was really worried about it being seen or stolen. Hell, it was safer there than it would have been in Ft. Knox! Anyone mad enough to attempt to retrieve it would have earned their prize, that's for sure.
We thus packed out things and rode out. Each of us took turns ferrying Mr. Unfortunate and his son as best we could. 7 miles later, and we found ourselves at Hwy 25 right at the Mile post 23 we saw earlier in the day. Knowing it would be hard to piggy back a rider in the woods, we decided to follow the roads back to the trucks. This time though, no Sheriff passed us by. Thank you Mrs Luck!
It was a bit sad to see Mr. Unfortunate's truck sans 1 KTM.
I guess the dog crap we saw before the ride should have tipped us off that we were headed into some serious $*^@#.
--------------------------------------
Here it was, one week later. The weather had turned nasty. I had prepared a pulley system which I thought could do the job.
Mr. Unfortunate had acquired a 275ft rope, which was to save the day. We didn't really know how much we would need, but 275ft turned out to be just perfect.
Once we got to the peak, I couldn't resist taking a few movies.
Coming up to the peak
Walking down to the ‘site’
The switchback Mr. Unfortunate had lost the bike on was pretty ugly.
And the spot where the bike lay... Can you see it? Zoom way in....
After some consultations, we rigged up and sent Mr. orange and Mr. Unfortunate down the slope on ropes. Myself (42), and the crew stayed back to pull the rope up and make sure no one got hurt.
In action
And more action
Pulling the bike up was a serious chore. But with Mr Orange and Unfortunate below un-snagging the bike, it went pretty quickly. Incredibly, the bike started in only 3 kicks! Modern bikes are amazingly resilient. Me. Unfortunate was quite pleased.
Started!
Now Mr. Unfortunate’s truck looks right..
And here they are. Mountain bike rescue Inc. (For hire?)
The trail started out as a simple cross-this-little-stream test right next to the road. Get across the stream and you're probably OK to continue riding. Only 1.5 miles into the trail though, and the test gets much harder! #263 turns into about a 1/2 mile 40 degree uphill rock climb consisting of roughly 6 stair-step rock sections. These sections are rideable, but only by those who are skilled in trials and who have no real concern for their safety. Neither Mr. Orange nor I fall into that category. So, we both helped each other to manually pull the bikes up each step until we reached the top.
What awaited us on top was, of course, the #1 boundary trail and connecting trail system. This is a truly awesome ride for anyone enthusiastic about Washington state trail riding. I had been planning this ride for a week and had mapped out a roughly 70 mile loop mostly consisting of the #1 trail and lower return trails. Extra gas was in the back pack and we were ready for anything.
Well, most anything. What I hadn't planned on was:
1. The 80A trail bridge across the Lewis River being washed out.
2. The entire lower trail section of Gifford having been turned into Hiker-Only trails.
The combination of these left both Mr. Orange and I in bind. Once we got to the lower trails, we realized that proceeding on the hiking trails would probably get us shot. Or at least get us stabbed by hiker poles in various nasty locations (Let your imagination run wild).
Not having enough gas to reverse course on the motorcycle trails, we had only one option. Take the State roads back to the truck. This involved about a 25 mile ride on public highways with two unlicensed dirt bikes. We were sure to get tickets, but what do you do?
Of course, only about 10 miles into our 'road trip', a Skamania County sheriff passed us by. We both sighed and waited for the inevitable. But what was this? He's not turning around? Oh wait... there he goes. 1/2 mile apart and he finally turns on the lights and heads our way. We both immediately pull over and wait (Sweating of course).
Amazingly, the officer was sympathetic to our plight. We explained the situation and came to realize that he actually wasn't going to have any issue with our attempt to get back. In fact, the officer had only turned around in order to warn us of a partial road washout down the highway. Can you believe that? Needless to say, this particular officer is high on my list of the coolest people in the world now! Thanks
---------------------------------------------------------------
Two weeks later, the gang decided to attempt a similar ride. This time though, we would do better. The plan was to avoid the lower trail system (And death by hiker pole) and attempt to enter the area from the Highway 25 side of Gifford.
I believe in my heart that I should now never be trusted to lead anyone anywhere, under any circumstance! What I thought would be easy access into the trail system turned out to be an adventure in trying to find a road access.
From the connection of the #1 boundary trail (Mile post 23 off of highway 25), the connection to #80 and #80A (A camp site where Mr. Orange and I though would be an opportune location to base out of two weeks earlier) seemed only a few extra miles away. WRONG! We searched and searched, but there's no connection between highway 25 and the inner roads until you get to approximately mile post 45! AHHH!
Well, we finally (After 2 extra hours) found the camp site and prepared to ride.
The riding was fun, to be sure. 80 degrees and sunny. We rode backwards on the trails hoping to find the Craggy Peak trail for a nice, leisurely 15 mile initial loop. Once found, we proceeded up to the Craggy and Beaver peaks. Unfortunately, near the very top, the trail because rather steep. On the 2nd from the switch back, Mr. Unfortunate had an unfortunate 'incident'. I had already made it to the top and was waiting for the rest of the gang. My motorcycle was turned off and I had just pulled my helmet off only to hear a faint noise followed by a simple statement by someone below...
"That didn't sound right!"
How can something not sound right? Let me tell you. When a motorcycle crashes, it makes a very distinctive noise. Usually, a quick 'crunch' sound followed by a series of loud four letter word utterances from the rider (Or groaning). Those are normal sounds one expects to hear when riding. But what was heard this time was not one of those sounds. No, the sound that was heard was more of a long series of scraping and banging sounds. Much to long to have been caused by any mere wipe out. These sounds came from a motorcycle that just went over the edge!
You may ask yourself... "Where were the swearing sounds?". Well, I suspect those were muffled by the shock settling in to Mr Unfortunate's psyche. We were all a bit shocked, yet thankful no 'body' had gone with this poor KTM over the edge.
The little trail ride had now turned into a rescue.
Having a bunch of smart people in the same place is usually a recipe for disaster. We inspected the bike (70 feet down a steep rock fall line) for almost an hour. Everyone was thinking of ways to haul it up. No one though had any idea how to do it. Certainly no one knew how not to get killed dragging a 250lb motorcycle up a rock face where it should never have been.
Thankfully, we all came to the conclusion that there was a need for equipment and time which no one had at the moment. The bike would have to wait in the woods for a week. It's position was not the worst it could have been. A few feet more and it would have been over a 2nd ledge. But it had instead settled in a series of saplings that prevented it from falling any farther down the slope. This bike was therefore a safe as it could be, given the situation. A week in the woods should be no problem and no one was really worried about it being seen or stolen. Hell, it was safer there than it would have been in Ft. Knox! Anyone mad enough to attempt to retrieve it would have earned their prize, that's for sure.
We thus packed out things and rode out. Each of us took turns ferrying Mr. Unfortunate and his son as best we could. 7 miles later, and we found ourselves at Hwy 25 right at the Mile post 23 we saw earlier in the day. Knowing it would be hard to piggy back a rider in the woods, we decided to follow the roads back to the trucks. This time though, no Sheriff passed us by. Thank you Mrs Luck!
It was a bit sad to see Mr. Unfortunate's truck sans 1 KTM.
I guess the dog crap we saw before the ride should have tipped us off that we were headed into some serious $*^@#.
--------------------------------------
Here it was, one week later. The weather had turned nasty. I had prepared a pulley system which I thought could do the job.
Mr. Unfortunate had acquired a 275ft rope, which was to save the day. We didn't really know how much we would need, but 275ft turned out to be just perfect.
Once we got to the peak, I couldn't resist taking a few movies.
Coming up to the peak
Walking down to the ‘site’
The switchback Mr. Unfortunate had lost the bike on was pretty ugly.
And the spot where the bike lay... Can you see it? Zoom way in....
After some consultations, we rigged up and sent Mr. orange and Mr. Unfortunate down the slope on ropes. Myself (42), and the crew stayed back to pull the rope up and make sure no one got hurt.
In action
And more action
Pulling the bike up was a serious chore. But with Mr Orange and Unfortunate below un-snagging the bike, it went pretty quickly. Incredibly, the bike started in only 3 kicks! Modern bikes are amazingly resilient. Me. Unfortunate was quite pleased.
Started!
Now Mr. Unfortunate’s truck looks right..
And here they are. Mountain bike rescue Inc. (For hire?)
