Here it is, a 2009 KLX250S. And if you're reading this in the middle of the night here is a bedtime story:
STUPID, STUPID, STUPID
or: How I rode a KLX250 509km from Burnaby to Kamloops and lived to tell the tale.
Dedicated to my faithful, long suffering, 'crew', Suzie.
Check list for a stupid rider:
Entertain the idea of riding a brand new, unfamiliar, non-broken-in motorcycle through back country with no company - check
Not bringing along enough fluids for re-hydration at 30+c temperatures - check
Not researching the exact capacity of the fuel tank of said new motorcycle - check
Not knowing how far it will go on reserve - check
Trusting maps for accuracy - check
Packing a compass and then forgetting to take it - check
Not communicating adequately with your back up crew to be sure that you both know where to meet - check
Relying on cell phone communication when the coverage area is unknown - check
Not using appropriate judgment when the road is obviously not the correct one - check
Having absolutely no accurate idea as to how long an off (paved) road ride will take - check
Assuming that satellite pictures of a road tell the whole story - check
We left Burnaby Kawasaki at 10am and headed north to Highway 7 and then east along the Fraser River. The traffic was fairly heavy so there was lots of stop-start, accelerate/decelerate. Good for the (accelerated) break-in.We eventually got out of town and then began to enjoy the rural sights and smells of the highway. The bike performed well and it did not take too long to get used to its idiosyncrasies. We stopped at Rosko's Diner (been there for 50 years, apparently) just outside Mission for a late breakfast and then continued east. I chose this route because a) it would be away from the monotonous drone of the TCH and b) it gave me a chance to revisit roads that I had run along in my younger/fitter days when the running club had teams in the Haney to Harrison Road Relay.
We separated at 1pm just south of Harrison Hot Springs. My plan was to ride north along the east side of Harrison Lake, then east to the Fraser river, then north to the Lytton Ferry, where I would cross the river, go to Lytton and meet Suzie. I figured it would take 3 hours, plus or minus one. Ha!! After meeting in Lytton we would then separate at Spences Bridge and I would carry on the 'loops via the back country.
The road turns to hard pack gravel just north of Harrison and that is where the first unforeseen obstacle appeared. Dust! I can see what the rally types mean when they say that riding in dust is no fun at all. I had to back off from cars/trucks heading north because they raised clouds of dense, visually impenetrable, choking dust. That helped a bit. Unfortunately there was no way to deal with the (thoughtless) drivers coming the other way, usually tearing along at breakneck speed (got to get to the cold beer and wine store asap) and throwing up huge clouds. After about 20 km I was able to pass the two or three vehicles ahead and settled into a rhythm, enjoying the hard packed road surface.
Then the fun began. At about 60km I came to a fork in the road and assumed that the left was the way to go, on the basis that the way point distances I had marked on the map were accurate. Duh #1. So off I went and after a kilometre or so I met the first of many road deactivation ditches. Did I stop and rationalise that this could not be a heavily used FSR? Of course not. After 25-30 of said ditches (and discovering that the bike is nice and light and easy to pick up.....don't ask) I finally reached a dead end where a significant bridge had been removed. So it was about face and back down the road and over the ditches/berms. Did I mention that several them were full of fast flowing streams? So much for having a fairly clean bike at the end of the ride.
Back to the fork and off on the other (correct) choice. Bear in mind that at this point my tripmeter was now out of sync with the map way points. No worries. About 10km further on there was another fork in the road, one side carrying on straight, and the other which turned right across a bridge. Fortuitously there was a fellow right there, with his truck. Unfortunately I roared up while he was in mid pee, so there was a little embarrassment while he finished his business. I asked if he knew which road was the correct one, to which he gave me a blank look and said "I think that one goes to Boston Bar..." His uncertainty didn't help, but at least I found out that he had come from the same direction as me.
So off I went. A nice part of the ride with the road being quite straight and flat in places, allowing speeds of up to 80kph. What a hoot. Even at that speed the bike floated over small potholes and ruts. It's amazing what a half decent suspension will do to help.... Then I got lost again....the clue being that the road, again, started to deteriorate. I was riding over rocks the size of baseballs and through rock slides. Note to self: there is minimal protection for the side of the engine cases.
Cursing the fact that I had assumed that the satellite photos would have given a realistic representation of the route I turned around again. And then found myself at a bridge that I didn't recognize at all. Duh #2 With four choices of roads, all looking fairly significant. At this point I started to get just a teensy bit worried because the tripmeter was showing 130km and I knew I had at least 40km to go before civilisation. Of course I had not researched the size of the fuel tank and how far the bike goes on reserve. By this time it was 5pm and I knew that Suzie would be getting worried. So I parked the bike in the shade and forced myself to think things through. Then it occurred to me that I might be a little dehydrated, the clue being that I was soaked in perspiration from my armpits to my knees and I was having difficulty interpreting what I was seeing. The last water bottle was emptied in short order. I knew where north was by the position of the sun but could not rationalise the fact that the river appeared to be flowing in the opposite direction to what the map said it should be. Visions of search and rescue helicopters (at $400 an hour or more) having to come and look for me flashed through my head. Nick was not a happy camper. Then it finally dawned on me, after sitting for about half an hour, that perhaps I had not gone as far as I thought I had and needed to look at the map really carefully to figure out where I was. Once the water kicked in I had a flash of inspiration and made a command decision...."it must be that road over there". But wasn't that the one I just came back down?
So off again and then after about 10km, glory be, I came to a group of trailers, trucks, ATVs, generators and people. A fellow I spotted was pouring fuel into his brand new ATV! After some pleasantries, and him confirming where I was, I asked if he would sell me some of his gas. He was loath to give up the premium he had since it was for the ATV, but he did have a container of regular. Bless his heart he told me to help myself! I poured less fuel than I thought I would have to into the tank to get it close to the top, and with profuse thanks, and another offer to pay, I was on my way again. Woo hoo.
I had now reached the realisation that non-paved riding was done for the day.
I knew that Suzie would be very worried so I decided to head south once I reached the Fraser, to get me to Boston Bar and the nearest telephone. When I called her I had to leave a message telling her that I was all right and that I was now heading north on Highway 1. I stopped to look for her again at Lytton, where I thought she would be, but there was no sign of her. Another phone call elicited another message being left, so I decided to carry on. Stopped in Spence's Bridge, ditto. At this point I must have had a temporary breakdown in rationality, because it didn't occur to me to fill up with gas. Duh #3. Remember I told you that when the XT went on reserve there was no warning at all. The KLX is just the same. It was like a switch had been flipped and the bike died instantly. At first I thought that the main fuse had blown (curses, no spare, unprepared again), but after a few seconds of determined thinking and looking I could see that the headlight was on, so realised that turning the gas to reserve might be prudent. The bike started immediately, but now I was faced with the worry of not knowing how far it would go on reserve. The XT has a reserve of 10km before being bone dry. It was 30km to Cache Creek.
I continued riding in 'stealth' mode trying to be as frugal with the use of revs as I could, and when I finally reached the turn off for Ashcroft I decided to take it, reasoning that it is downhill all the way. Filled up with gas (it only took 6.25 litres...with a total capacity of 7.75litres). I finally got through to Suzie and discovered that she had been waiting at the Lytton ferry all along and was heading for Cache Creek "so that I can contact the police to come and look for you!" We met up in Cache Creek and rolled into the Verse for a late dinner at 10pm, 500+km and twelve hours after starting off.
It was an interesting day and luckily it finished on a high note, but it gave some good lessons for the future.
I'll be investing in a GPS so that I can place myself precisely when I'm in the wilds.
NEVER ride alone!
Take lots of fluids. (Food would be good too)
Familiarise oneself with the fluid capacities of your machine.
And they all lived happily ever after.
