Tuesday, May 22, 2012

REVerend Bill also Paddles



One would get the impression from this blog that adventure riding is my only passion.
Actually, adventure of any nature is fun, and I have been astoundingly fortunate to participate in a volunteer capacity on an Alaskan archeological expedition by sea kayak.


The Forest Service conducts an annual field expedition to monitor known culturally significant sites and survey for new ones. We carry out this expedition in the Misty Fjords National Monument of Southeast Alaska.  A team of 2-3 Forest Service archeologist and rangers, plus 5-6 volunteers paddle kayaks for 12 days in the Alaska wilderness, camping in primitive sites, self-sustained and self-sufficient.
In 2010 we paddled 140 miles of shoreline.  This year we plan to do about the same, looking for pictographs, petroglyphs, fish traps, boat runs and more.

Special precautions are taken for living and working in bear habitat.  
The ubiquitous tarp over tent
The Kitchen


 Living in the rainforest places special strategies in play to deal with weather.  We eat well, work hard, and experience a wilderness only a lucky few will see.



With only a few weeks left until this year’s trip, anticipation builds. If I can only find that head net……

Friday, May 18, 2012

Oysters, Check! Clams, Check! Snowline, Check!



Friday May 4th dawned grey and wet, as I headed to the Edmonds ferry landing on my YamahaTW200.  


Across the water, Sareth on his BMW F800GS and I met in Kingston, where we topped off fuel, headed out.

We rode through heavy squalls and showers to Brinnon and the Cove RV Park.  

Pitch not yet Perfected
Campsite lush

 Soon camp was set, and we headed up nearby Forest Service roads to find the snowline.  Well graded and empty roads led up mountain slopes through moss covered forest and native Rhododendron.  


 Shortly after passing a rock in the road, we found the snowline. 


 The altitude was 2,600’. This bode well for tomorrow’s plan to ride Forest Service roads from Skokomish to Lake Wynoochee.  Our planned route would top about around that altitude.

No matter how fat the tire, there's no riding up this!

After dropping back down to pavement, we headed up the Mt. Walker Viewpoint Road.  A long steady climb on graded gravel and dirt took us to the top.  At 2,500’ a mix and snow and rain fell from surrounding fog and clouds.  An occasional glimpse in the cover teased at the hidden views beyond.


By early afternoon we returned rather wet to camp, and assisted park owners Doug and Kimberley Hixson in preparations for the oyster feed potluck that evening.  The first opening of shrimp season was scheduled for 0900-1300 the next day, and the RV Park was rather full for the occasion.
Right as the potluck was winding up, James joined us and pitched his camp with ours. He rode a BMW R1150GS.

Centralia was in the house.


Soon we were enjoying delicious pan-fried oysters prepared by Doug, along with corn-on-the-cob, salads, breads and other dishes in a friendly community gathering.  Out of the rain under the Camp pavilion, we were well accommodated for the gathering.  I can’t say enough about the wonderful facility and hospitality of Doug and Kimberley.  Though we did not procure clams for the feast, Doug’s giant clam display in front of the camp store sufficed to complete the outing title: Oyster, clam, and Snowline Jam.

Not sure about the limit on those big ones.

After dark, Deb rolled in on her Suzuki V-Strom DL650, and immediately piled on the grief for not having a roaring fire awaiting her.  We tried to get a blaze from the neighbors abandoned campfire, but we were challenged by the damp wood and weather.  Besides, there was beer, warm water in the restrooms, and beer.  We helped her pitch her camp, and soon we turned in to a night of blissful slumber…..

Saturday morning skies were much brighter and drier. The nearby highway was busy with shrimpers hauling boats to launch.  With a four-hour opening, timing was critical.  We had a relaxed morning, diagnosed a worn chain on Deb’s bike, and enjoyed a leisurely breakfast in Brinnon awaiting JT to join us.
The boats were on the water and off the highway as we rode 101 south along Hood canal.   

Reverend Bill, James and Deb. (L to R)

We provisioned at the Skokomish Casino, and soon headed west on back roads.  

Acrophobic?

 We elected to take a long side loop in order to visit a high bridge, and enjoyed miles of beautiful and largely empty Forest Service roads.    
Roads where you can just stop in the middle. Deb, James, JT, Rev Bill (L to R)

Eventually we finished the loop and headed on the main road toward Wynoochee.


What's that you say? No Motorcycles?
James performs the ADV salute

When we arrived at the snow and down-tree blockage, we were astounded to find we were at only 1,300’ elevation.   


If we just had a chainsaw.......
 After pondering all the options for getting around the obstacle, we chose to back-track to the highway and ride paved roads to Wynoochee. 
By the time we returned to Highway 101, Deb learned of a personal emergency at home that pulled her from the trip.  Assessing the hour, we decided to abandon Wynoochee as a destination, and instead head for Belfair State Park and the trails of Tahuya for Sunday riding.
Deb rode with the group to Belfair and then continued on for home. A quick stop in Belfair for provisions, and James learned of a backed up sewer at home and he left the group as well.

Sareth's pitch improving.
Sareth, JT, Fire!


Sareth, JT and I found a beach-view campsite at the park, and soon had camp set, a fire burning, and beers opened.  A photo of the campfire was sent to Deb in return for her heaps of grief, and soon, cans of food were heated in the fire.
A “super moon” rose over the water at dusk, and all was well with the world.
Shady campsite on a sunny morn.
Ebb tide inlet

Sunday JT woke ill and packed early.  Soon he was on the road for home, with a mechanical adventure on his way to the Southworth ferry.  Seems his pack strap was sucked into his counter sprocket, and a shred of it caused failure of his counter shaft seal.  He was puking oil at the ferry toll-booth when it was discovered, and luckily no harm came to his engine.  The skipper allowed him to push his bike on the ferry and within a few days he had it running as per normal.
We don't need no stinking counter sprocket cover!

Meanwhile, Sareth chose to take a long pavement ride home, so we parted ways in Belfair.  By the afternoon my wet camping and riding gear hung in the back yard to dry.
I await the next adventure.  Thanks to the riders for joining me on this outing and I look forward to riding with all of you again soon.
-Reverend Bill