Nasty Austrian🇦🇹 Conquers da 🇺🇸 & 🇨🇦
- Thread starter big oil
- Start date
big oil
Race Dog
I'd only seen one car at the bottom, so I thought I'd meet some folks hiking to the top of the gulch. I also saw what looked like fresh knobby tire tracks, so I anticipated seeing some dirt bikes along my way.
The path you can see to the left in the distance.
The path you can see to the left in the distance.
big oil
Race Dog
At the top, as far as one can ride or drive. There were two guys on dirt bikes at the top, one was riding a YZ250 2-smoke, the other on a CRF450X 4-stroke. I chewed the cud with them for a few minutes. That's when a couple of girls came hiking down from Blue Lake, I asked them how much further it was to see the lake, they both said it wasn't far at all and was an easy hike, nothing too difficult. Must be nice to be young, lol.
big oil
Race Dog
After shooting the **** with the dirt bikers for a few, I decided it was time to hike up to see what the locals stated was a site to behold. To say it was a struggle to get up there is an understatement. The girls were correct when they opined it was an easy hike, they must have meant there were no difficult obstacles, lol.
I don't think I've ever had a more difficult time in my life. I honestly thought I was having a heart attack. I was suffocating. It must have been the lack of oxygen at such high elevation.
No joke, I'd have to stop, sit down, gasping for air until I was back to normal, then I'd hike up no more than 10-15 meters and be completely gassed again, gasping for air.
Must be what a fish out of water feels like. I'd not EVER felt this way before. I could breathe, but my beats per minute must have been ridiculously high, my heart feeling as though it was trying to explode from my chest cavity.
It must have taken me an hour to go hardly any distance at all. I wanted several times to quit, turn around, just get back to my bike, but I just couldn't quit. It was one of those '**** it' moments. I'm going to make it up there if it kills me. Going that far only to turn around was something I couldn't grasp. So I labored on, a few meters at a time, again, having to stop and rest, thoughts of a bear spotting me breathing laboriously, and thinking thoughts of there's no way to outrun a hungry bear, no tree to climb was really affecting me.
I FINALLY made it up to the lake, only to be disappointed really, not in how beautiful the mountains were all around me, but disappointed because the lake wasn't near what I expected. I guess I'm spoiled living in a state that has so many fresh blue pool water colored lakes, I expected it to be prettier. Either way, there was still feelings of accomplishments that I'd made it to the top and didn't quit.
I don't think I've ever had a more difficult time in my life. I honestly thought I was having a heart attack. I was suffocating. It must have been the lack of oxygen at such high elevation.
No joke, I'd have to stop, sit down, gasping for air until I was back to normal, then I'd hike up no more than 10-15 meters and be completely gassed again, gasping for air.
Must be what a fish out of water feels like. I'd not EVER felt this way before. I could breathe, but my beats per minute must have been ridiculously high, my heart feeling as though it was trying to explode from my chest cavity.
It must have taken me an hour to go hardly any distance at all. I wanted several times to quit, turn around, just get back to my bike, but I just couldn't quit. It was one of those '**** it' moments. I'm going to make it up there if it kills me. Going that far only to turn around was something I couldn't grasp. So I labored on, a few meters at a time, again, having to stop and rest, thoughts of a bear spotting me breathing laboriously, and thinking thoughts of there's no way to outrun a hungry bear, no tree to climb was really affecting me.
I FINALLY made it up to the lake, only to be disappointed really, not in how beautiful the mountains were all around me, but disappointed because the lake wasn't near what I expected. I guess I'm spoiled living in a state that has so many fresh blue pool water colored lakes, I expected it to be prettier. Either way, there was still feelings of accomplishments that I'd made it to the top and didn't quit.
big oil
Race Dog
I spent a few minutes lying there, gasping for air until my breathing was back to normal. Then decided it was time to hike back down. Gosh, how much easier it was and quicker to descend rather than ascend.
I mounted the big Katoom and made my way back down the gulch to lower elevation. I decided to take the harder route, something looking back I'd wished I had not done. It was more suited for a light dirt bike, not a 550 pound behemoth like the 1290 R.
I lost rear braking power, on the descend in loose cranium sized rocks, the very brake I needed, front brake is a no no, I'd go right down if I even touched the front brake lever I know. Then to top it off, here was a Toyota FJ Cruiser on the way up in the loose rocks. I yelled ahead to tell him I had no brakes please give me as much room as possible. He did, he pulled his FJ as far right as he could. As I rode past him, picking the best line, I told him thanks, he wished me good luck.
I made it to the bottom without falling, to my surprise. Rear brake fluid had boiled, but wasn't a big deal now as I still had full front braking power. I made my way back towards camp, sat down had a coke, then mounted back up to ride in to Silverton to look for something to eat.
I was almost to US550 aka 'Million Dollar Highway' when I began hearing this god awful noise emitting from the big Katoom. I was like WHAT THE F is the problem now. It was a horrible sound, sounded like a crankshaft bearing, or transmission gear was broken in the bottom end, far worse than a bad wheel bearing.
I stopped, dismounted, I looked underneath the bike, no fluids anywhere, I looked at the countershaft sprocket to see if any oil was draining from the countershaft seal, nope. Couldn't locate or identify the issue.
I mounted the bike, started it, put it in first gear, released the clutch, same noise, tick tick tick. I was in disbelief, what the hell is making this noise, this is a fairly new motorbike, certainly a crank or wheel bearing can't be bad already.
I mounted the big Katoom and made my way back down the gulch to lower elevation. I decided to take the harder route, something looking back I'd wished I had not done. It was more suited for a light dirt bike, not a 550 pound behemoth like the 1290 R.
I lost rear braking power, on the descend in loose cranium sized rocks, the very brake I needed, front brake is a no no, I'd go right down if I even touched the front brake lever I know. Then to top it off, here was a Toyota FJ Cruiser on the way up in the loose rocks. I yelled ahead to tell him I had no brakes please give me as much room as possible. He did, he pulled his FJ as far right as he could. As I rode past him, picking the best line, I told him thanks, he wished me good luck.
I made it to the bottom without falling, to my surprise. Rear brake fluid had boiled, but wasn't a big deal now as I still had full front braking power. I made my way back towards camp, sat down had a coke, then mounted back up to ride in to Silverton to look for something to eat.
I was almost to US550 aka 'Million Dollar Highway' when I began hearing this god awful noise emitting from the big Katoom. I was like WHAT THE F is the problem now. It was a horrible sound, sounded like a crankshaft bearing, or transmission gear was broken in the bottom end, far worse than a bad wheel bearing.
I stopped, dismounted, I looked underneath the bike, no fluids anywhere, I looked at the countershaft sprocket to see if any oil was draining from the countershaft seal, nope. Couldn't locate or identify the issue.
I mounted the bike, started it, put it in first gear, released the clutch, same noise, tick tick tick. I was in disbelief, what the hell is making this noise, this is a fairly new motorbike, certainly a crank or wheel bearing can't be bad already.
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That scenery is just magnificent! :drif:
Reminds me a lot of Lesotho in the summer when the mountains are green :thumleft:
Reminds me a lot of Lesotho in the summer when the mountains are green :thumleft:
big oil
Race Dog
I found the root of the noise. My Rambo knife was back at camp otherwise I’d have attempted to cut the knob off or heated my knife and melted the knob off.
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