From: Alan Fleming 
Subject: E-Ride adventure
To: [email protected]
Date: Sun, 18 Feb 1996 21:52:51 -0700 (MST)

In a fit of insanity, I opted to go on a date Saturday night rather than work on the MX-100. I had invited Todd Blachowiak to stay over at my house Sat night so expected him to be a kind biker friend and get things straightened out for me. However, when I finally returned home, I found the MX in the same detestable state in which I'd left it. A frantic hour outside in the dark and cold allowed me to get all the pieces put back on the bike. Unfortunately, it was after midnight and I didn't have gas around so I could attempt a start. Noting (and hardly caring about) my failure to properly prioritize things the night before the E-Ride, I headed for bed.

The alarm had me awake an early 6:30am, ready to get the MX finished up. However, upon entering the living room, I found Todd B@%#$^%^ in a horrid state. Apparently, Todd had been awake all night worried about how he was going to keep the KLR on the road during the E-Ride. Being the compassionate person I am, I agreed to forgo the certain glory of cresting Guanella Pass aboard the MX and instead lend my considerable weight...errr...I mean talent to helping the KLR's traction abilities.

After picking the most direct route to Grant, we arrived an hour before time to leave. This gave me plenty of time to council the nervous Todd and also pass along a few pro tips to Jeff "Weenie" Deeney, Vic and Steve Johnson (no relation) and Roar. Finally, it was time to assault the pass and Todd was no where to be scene. Fortunately, I managed to pull him out from under the truck and get him aboard the KLR in time for us to be the first to head up the mountain.

It was obvious from the way the bike was moving around that Todd was a little nervous. I figured the best way to get him to forget about having my considerable talent aboard was to just sit back and not intrude. Despite a few slides that I could easily have saved myself, I let Todd build up his confidence by letting him handle it all.

Unfortunately, it was all for naught as just a few turns later he threw the bike to the ground in disgust and vowed he was quitting. Some levelheaded talking on my part convinced him that he should at least get the bike back to Grant instead of just leaving it in the road.

I even agreed to give him pointers on the way back but he stubbornly refused. I was impressed that he'd picked up so much in such a short time (he'd only managed 2.2 miles before chickening out) and even managed a very impressive save of a rear end slide on the way back. Unfortunately, this display of skill was short lived as a few scant seconds later the KLR was spinning out of control. Since we were almost back, I agreed to try one more time. The snow had melted on the asphalt, so Todd's days of posing aboard his FZR came to the forefront and we cruised back into camp. (I opted not to mention he'd stayed in 2nd gear the whole way back. It just didn't seem proper to crush his spirit when he was feeling so triumphant).

Upon returning to camp, I found that Roar had been a more adept student and was already back. How he managed to reach the summit and back, aboard the stock Seca II, in such a short amount of time I'll never figure out. That boy's got potential, I tell you.

Still, while I only managed to see 2.2 miles of Guanella Pass aboard a bike, I went ahead and caged it over afterwards. Conditions near the top were pretty bad. Still, I passed both Indian riders struggling to reach the summit. I hope someone plucked them out of the snow before nightfall.

Thanks to Todd for letting me attempt to pass along my wisdom and to help however I could with the KLR's traction problems. Keep at it, son. You'll go places one of these days (just not over snowy passes. :-)

-- 
Think Peace.
- Alan ([email protected])
KotBBBB (1988 GSXR1100J)  RaceBike (FT500)  DOD# 4210  PGP key available

For reference, I'll append Todd Blachowiak's version (lies, damned lies)
here:


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From: [email protected] (Todd Blachowiak)
Date: Sun, 18 Feb 1996 21:04:16 +0700
To: [email protected]
Subject: E-ride through my eyes

First ones going down.

Second ones back at the bottom.

Wow! What an event. Learning from the experts, I soon saw that a big part of the E-ride is preparation, so I took Alan Fleming, the closest thing to a stud I could find at this late of time, on the back of the KL650 for the Elephant ride. Seamed like a good idea to have 450lbs of riders plus gear on a 375lb bike with street oriented DP tires to assault the road going over Guanella Pass after a fresh 3 inch coating of snow.

So off we go, the first ones, Alan and I, as we masterfully traversed the paved section leading to the dirt. Miss some snow here, some ice there, hey this is easy I don't understand what all the hoopla is about. Go for a bit on the snow/dirt section and get passed by some teenie weenie dirt bike types with last names like deeney, johnson, ward, kiedrowski, and Macgrath. In George Carlin's world, we were the assholes and they were the maniacs. Sigh. I'll cherish the day when I'm one of the maniacs.

Getting into a few slides going up our hero, that's me, saved them with skill so grand that those behind him had astonished looks on their faces as they passed. Alan who never before experienced such finely tuned motorcycle dymanics was in sheer terror. How could our hero keep this up all day, was his thinking.

After a mere 2.2 miles of unchallenging terrain our hero in an effort to provide some test of skill, ran over a hardpack snow patch and proceeded to induce a 20mph front end slide, any first timer MSF student would laugh at, as I took the slide into a region Alan feared there was no hope of saving, he flinched his left toe. A feet I'm sure he will deny for many years. This was all it took to throw off my finely honed motorcycle skills. Not expecting a jumpy cat on the back of the bike to the likes of Alan, I was placed in a situation that demanded total if not immense concentration levels, no more replaying Kasparov's moves against Big Blue while in meager two wheel drifts, no more devising the ultimate flat tax system, it was here and now. Man against machine and jumpy cat. In the words of tricky-dick "I am not a quitter"

But soon the situation was critical, I could tell by the scraping sounds a dirt road makes on metal as you penetrate the top layers of snow and ice. Thinking of the jumpy cats safety I forced myself under the machine as we skidded to a halt. Sacrificing the cow skin adorning my body. No big deal. It was my duty as supreme motorcycle operator.

Mom always taught me to turn things off I wasn't using, so the fire in the cylinder was quickly extinguished. A quick survey of new features showed a bent shifter and a hyperventilating cat. I turned my back for a moment and the cat had pulled the shifter completely off of the bike. Hmmm, why'd he do that? No big deal we can assault the rest of this hill in second gear. The cat returned to normal breathing after using a technigue I learned in the Andes when riding my Goldwing looking for downed airplanes. Simply close all vents and shield and have the patient breath into the helmet. Alas Alan was among us again. "We can't go on, to do so would be certain death" Alan cried. Aw come on "I give us 50/50 chances, lets press on". Then it hit me, that feeling I had when I gave blood for the first time. That I was helping, making a contribution in the world. I could no longer think of myself and had to help Alan. I realize not everyone can face death and still be able to eat sushi the next day, so I agreed to go back. Thinking of Alan and the residual long term effects this could have on him.

So we headed back down the 2.2 miles of childsplay, but not before I got to practice some long forgotten skills in motorcycle downhill ice ballat. Back in the old days I was one of the few to get the saught after Cheng-shin tire sponsorship. I was that good. After a few moves and one that particularly impressed Alan "the jumpy cat" to exclaim "nice save!". Alan went to pat me on the back, but in his jumpy state he missed and squarely hit my right elbow. Well as any highly accomplished motorcycle downhill ice ballat competitor can tell you this is the initiator for the 180, reverse course, otherwise known as the Clinton, move. Not expecting this, I was caught offguard. Thinking I had my 450lbs spring on the rear shock, I setup the precise countersteer move to perform a beautiful Clinton, could have been one of my best. However, it was halfway through when I realized I didn't have the 450lbs spring I had the 455lbs spring. A spring totally unsuitable for the Clinton manuever in these conditions. I tried my best to compensate but my skills have deteriorated in DHIB over the years. After 175 miraculous degrees of completion we went down. This fall I have to accept full responsibility for. Afterall, a rider has to expect the passenger to violently push on their right elbow.

Fortunatley, this fall added no new features to our transport and both riders were okay. The remaining 1.1 miles back to homebase was uneventful. So my first E-ride came to an end. A whole 4.4 miles of road were gobbled up, placing us well amongst fellow E-ride iron butt competitors.

However, in our quest for firsts we could only muster a second place in arriving back down at the bottom, beaten by a Lutefisk eater at that. But that's another story....

Take care,

Todd

PS - To show my generosity toward CO for providing fine places and events such as this, I promptly paid an extra road tax on hwy-17 while driving home.

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