20013 Black Dawg Journey (a look into the FU ture)

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or just read this ramble... "Journey to the 22cd anY al Black Dawg"
(what a trip it waz)
It started out like any "normal" Black dog journey
less the 16 by 20 foot tarp, assorted 2 by 4's, a few loose screws, a couple of hours of set up time in the dark rain, and all that otter sheite stuff.
Because Bonnie Meadowes went off and bought this olde 1986 Toyota camper thing that promised to Eleve I Ate “all the stresses of the normal wind factory associated with early June in the windy burg of O’Dell, lifting your pickup off its tires at 3 AM. I know, it is hard to believe, kind of like the presidential commander in chief, but I bought the durn thing and let her fly…
This being a ramble you just kind of go with it, or not.
A couple of winters later, after sorting the good parts from the bad parts of said “instant camper thinga~mah~bob~ E”, (kinda like my XR 250 rebuilds, a few bad clanky parts sneek back in while I am sleeping it off).
Of Note is the “power to weight Ratio”, on an XR 250 the power to weight ratio calculated something like this, “No power / a bunch of weight”, but I helped this by eating every day, not working out, and carrying a spare new non clunky engine in my backpack, oh yeah and some water with electrolytes. I learned about electrolytes while shivering in 100 degree something that I can remember very well ?
But this Toyota camper has a 2400 cc engine,
that’s FOUR (count them) XR 600’s pulling a 7000 # unlaiden chassis with a fiberglass house on it, pulling a bike trailer, with an XR 250 on it, and all my S**T.

So I got off to my typically late start, but several daze early just in case, and I am moto homing it up I-5 just almost through Roseburg, when this red mustang with a guy in it pulls up slowly next to me and rolls down his window and says
“You are blowing a lot of smoke, down there” and points to the Toyotas “neither regions”. Since I had been smelling the burnt aroma of ATF for several miles I grabbed my trusty red 10 ABC fire esting~squisher while pulling to the edge of the edgeless road, then hitting the excel prod up to the full interstellar (4 XR 600) potential until I could excite the I-5 corridor off ramp into a home depot where upon the ATF drippage upon the Asphalt, Catalitic converter, muffler, tail pipe, underside of said Toyota moto home, front of bike trailer, front bike brake disc, yada yada, yaba dabba do…
This is why I often start these “adventure bike” traverses ASAP, weeks before, in fact I often can be found sleeping near the starting line several daze before the promoter even has thought to pre run the course
Don't tell the Fairground Manager , but I pretend to be a frog about 362 days of the year so I can get an early start... who knew ?

So this is where the bad turns to the good part, pay attention, these bad boys in the Home Depo parking lot are smoking ciggies and I saunter over to them and say, “would you happen to know where a good transmission shoppe would be located?”, with a straight face, and by gollie, yes they do. Just up at the stop, hang a right, next stop a right, and then on the right is an Aamco. All RIGHTY then, here I go. Right, Right, & Right into said AAMCO I go. All the racks are full, the parking lot is jammed, and this guy come out frowning at me asking if I have an appointment. No I say, I am on the road going to the Black Dog Dual Sport Ride up in I’ Drool near Hood River. Oh, he says, I have ridden that ride, let me talk to the boss. He goes in the back room and then 4 guys come out, one is barking orders “pull that motorhome off that rack and stick it over there, you (me) get that bike trailer off and put it over there, shove that Ford over there, get the Chevy in that slot, and get his Toyota up on that end rack”…….
Turns out 2 of the 4 AAMCO guys have ridden the Black Dog, the other two have not but they are dirt bikers, the Boss one of said dirt bikers.

In the “things you remember” department of dirt bike riding (or girl relationships) are the rocky parts, and the two “I rode the Black Dog 7 years ago” guys remembered riding that black rock section after Mc Cubbins, lunch gas @ Pine Grove ? & before Mc Cubbins where some extra terrestial had dumped a few miles of slightly uphill curvy black angular rock in a first or second gear feet on pegs, don’t stop, section. Yes that section is burned into my permanent hard drive also, even if I get Altshiemers I will be walking down the hallway drooling “Yeeep, wah wah Yeeep”, my right hand steady on the throttle as I weeve my way up that section.
But I digress...

“Digression is the better part of Valor” (Albert Einstein)
hey I read that on the web somewhere,
just before I got the virus + malware deal…2 for 1, can’t beat that.

So up on the rack, Yak Yak Yak, “have you ever ridden MRA or Fort Rock” blah Blah, obamanation, kids on cell phones, ammo supply, blah blah, look at that tailshaft seal will you, what do you think about RFD chips, oh a bad o ring there, the vents spueing over the top of the tranny, have you seen that new thainga ma bobbie at Cabelas, you could sleep in the parking lot if we have to overnight the parts, GOD have you ridden that trail east of Roseburg that goes up & up & up, looks like your tailshaft bearing is OK, your dipstick tube is not seated right, you got any steep climbs down on the coast (no, that was later). Hey you are good to go, have a nice day.

So much later my 4 XR 600 engines (count them) are growling up the grade from Zig Zag to the summit near still creek camp & this semi thinks he can pass me, and he is @ about 0.0013 MPH gaining on me for several miles. It is not dusty so I just keep the hammer down on the floorboard where it has worn a small (you can hardly notice it) hole in the floor… So about the time his cab has come bumper to bumper with mine the fool tries to upshift a cog, silly boy, he falls back. Later (much) he does succeed in the pass, but I quickly divert to the 35 highway, sign an ara eo past that olde womans grave, over the top and into camp where I left my frog persona holding onto a tree next to the starting line a year ago. I drove around the camp and there was not a soul awake, cepting Jim Lovel who was just pretending to nap. Jim got his revenge the next 7AM by circling my wagon beeping his horn, hah, only one of my frogs eyelids even quivered.

Thursday was spent re acquainting myself with old friends, then into the shower where I quickly shed the ATF tranny fluid that hid my true tree frog disguise, and focused on the Barlow Trail map. By evening I had found Gene and conspired to do Barlow the next AM. Gene knew a little bypass west of 35 so we managed to escape the worst of asphaltdome and got straight to Barlow. The “gate” & “bridge” were, lets say, not really relevant. And the Barlow was a hoot, going east, past the Barlow crossing, keep eastward, toward Tyee Valley. Got a little confusilated on the eastern end but it was a lot of fun getting lost, and they have 92 non oxy gas over there. Kept seeing these big billborgs over there, you know like all roads are closed even though they are still roads over there, kind of thing, so on the way out I picked up a map (should not have tried to upshift) as I was going to the church out there in lonely “Friend”. Yep later I read the gnarly nudes that ore~egon fishes & wildlives has gone and “fee purchased” the whole eastern end of those crappy old wagon roads that I so worship. But you can still go there in a prius between late April & furk I can’t remember, to worship wildlife, if you have bin properly “interpUlated” beforehand. Since neither Gene nor I had been properly vaccinated we kind of evacuated @ Friend Church & turned RIGHT (again), what is up with that (->R) stuff anyway…

[Tawmass]

Good story Lee!