A Weekend Jaunt on a Local Mountain

Sometimes you don't have to go far to find adventure.

I had just gotten home from my trip to Alaska and felt the need to be back on a bike. I re-packed the KLR and headed south, this time heading for a much closer destination: Mt Rainier. I had heard tales of some nice dirt roads that criss-cross the eastern side of the mountains and I wanted to find them. I left Saturday morning and made it a leisurely trip down through the back roads, sneaking into the park from the northeast corner. The directions I had for these fabled dirt roads were vague, so I took my time poking around. I checked out a couple of side roads, but it was much cooler up on the mountain so I tried to stay low in the valley where it was warm. Eventually I found a likely looking dirt road and made the turn.

It was an easy dirt road: hard packed and smooth. I made good time, zipping along a narrow valley floor and following a small river. Soon I came upon a large field full of trucks, tents, people and bikes. Dirt bike were everywhere! This much be the place for sure! Not wanting to intrude on their gathering, I continued past the meadow for another mile before spying a narrow track that darted off of the road. Excited to get on "real dirt" I steered off the road and into the dirt. I hadn't gone more than 50 feet when I felt the "this is bad" feeling and immediately went over. It wasn't hard and it wasn't fast, but it left the bike in an awkward position. It was situated in a rut that didn't allow me much leverage and I'd actually have to lift the bike uphill to get it upright again. I tried to heft the bike up but it wasn't moving. I unpacked a good deal of it, but that didn't seem to make any difference. I stood and stared at it, but it still didn't move. I started to get frustrated, not to mention that it was warm in the valley. I didn't panic, as I knew that there were scores of people who could help me just a mile or so down the road.

I looked around. Nature provided me some tools: a pry bar (tree branch) and a jack (bigger branch). I stuff the "jack" under the bike and used the "pry bar" to lift the bike a few inches. With my foot I shoved the jack further under the bike. I repeated this a couple of times until the bike was up high enough for me drag it upright. Whew. That was tiring. I gathered my stuff back up, repacked the bike and got on. It was getting late in the evening and I still have to make camp somewhere. I geared back up, got on the bike, started it up and put it in gear. As I let the clutch out the engine died. What...? I started it up again, and again it died as I let out the clutch. Repeat this a few times, cry out in complete frustration and weariness and then realize what's wrong: the side stand switch is malfunctioning and still thinks that the side stand is down, therefore cutting the engine when the clutch engages. I had heard about this problem but didn't realize how inconvenient it could be. I spent the next 10 minutes fiddling with wires, trying to get some sort of connection to work. Finally, through some oddity, the bike actually went forward when I let out the clutch.

There was no were else to go but back to the meadow. It was getting dark and, as I had noticed earlier in the day, my headlight bulb was out. No good riding three hours in the dark with no headlight. I retreated to the meadow with all of the bikers and found an empty corner. I reasoned that if the bike misbehaved in the morning at least there would be someone around who might be able to help me. I set up my tent, got comfy and proceeded to read my book. While the setting was beautiful, with a bubbling river not more than 15 feet away and surrounded by towering trees and mountains, it was anything but serene. Music, games, talking... the group there carried on well into the night. I feel asleep eventually, not terribly pleased with how my attempt to get away was proceeding.

The next day was sunny and beautiful and I awoke early. I quietly packed up my gear, donned my own gear, started up the KLR and with a little trepidation I let out the clutch. The bike moved and I was soon heading back down the dirt road I was so thrilled to have found the previous day. I stopped for a photo of Mt Rainier from Chinook Pass on the east side, a view I hadn't seen before. I took care not to put my side stand down at all for the ride home and disabled the side stand safety switch as soon as I got home. As well as replaced the light bulb. I've had better trips, but at least this one ended happily.

A deceptively quiet looking campsite	Mt Rainier from Chinook Pass, early morning