The East Texas 500

Hey all,

I submitted this at ADVrider as well, but since both Counselor and I were on WR250's I thought I'd post it here as well. Since the ADV thread also includes Counselor's side of the story, I'd invite you to

check it out here.

This is my first multi-day adventure and first report. Thanks in advance to all of you who have helped me prepare--knowingly or not.

Counselor1 and I are both new to adventure riding and thought the East Texas 500 would be a perfect beginner adventure ride. The ET500 is a 500 mile one-way loop running on a combination of tarmac roads, unpaved county roads, and unimproved roads through eastern Texas. The route is designed to take three days to travel, though a few hardy souls (on lightly loaded dirt bikes) have done it in as little one day. Texas is 99% private property, so it can be difficult to find dirt roads and trails that aren't gated and locked. Many thanks to the Texas Trail Riders who research and test ride the trail every year.



My load out:



Counselor and I both ride WR250R's, which are great fun to ride but don't have much space for gear. I installed Wolfman side racks and Expedition saddlebags. I also installed an aluminum machined top-rear rack made by Jared Scaggs. Counselor ran a similar setup, but used Wolfman Teton bags. In addition, I wore a small, lightly packed, backpack. The GPS you see is a Garmin Montana, which I purchased primarily because it has a large screen. I know next to nothing about it's operation but hope to become a "power user" at some point in the future. :rofl

My list:

Clothing

Helmet, Gloves, Boots,
Wool Socks, Jacket, underwear,
Tee Shirt, Long Underwear, Watch Cap,
Jersey, Baseball Cap, Sandals,
Camera, Ball Cap Light, Lip Balm,
Cell Phone,

Camping Gear

Tent & Footprint, Sleeping Bag, Ground Pad,
Lighter, Fire Starter Sticks,
Knife, Flashlight, Cup,
Food, Water, Bug Spray,
Sunscreen, Axe, Pillow, Kindle, Trash Bag,
Waterproof Matches, Utensils, Toothbrush & Paste,
Toilet Paper, Compass, Lever Soap,
Towel, Scotch Pad, Deodorant


Tools

Tire Irons, Patch Kit, 21” Tube,
Tire Pump, Spare Batteries, Copies of Instructions,
Valve Stem Tool, Duct Tape, Lubricant,
Rope 100’, Towel , Pliers,
Zip Ties,

First Aid

Quick Clot, Tourniquet, Cravats x2,
Sterile Gauze 4x4’s x8, Athletic Tape, Epi Pen,
Benadryl, Ibuprofin, Eye Drops


Adventure!

Spare Fuel, GPS, Maps,
Oil.

At least that all what I meant to bring. I had purchased a 1.75 gallon Rotopax fuel container, but had failed to order the mount. Without it, I couldn't secure the thing to my bike. Since all the legs of the trip are less than 120 miles, I decided to skip the extra fuel. This was not a good decision.:fpalm

Friday - Day 0

I loaded my bike into the truck and took it to work so I could go straight to Counselor's when I was done. We loaded his bike and drove to Livingston Lake Campground where we would stay the night and begin our ride the next day.



Counselor's bike, which he named "Yoshi", is on the left. He's made some significant changes to the bike's look: Custom paint and loads of stickers. Mine is the much more sedate bike on the right.

We had plenty of time to set up our shelters:

I set up a 15-year old tent which I used to take hiking:



This used to be a good little tent. Time has begun to take it's toll; it has a couple holes and the zippers have become stubborn. In addition, modern tents have come a long way. This tent weighs almost 9 lbs...a porker by today's standards. I may need to upgrade before too long. My sleeping bag is a $35 Coleman from Target. I compression strapped it down to fit in a dry bag. I purchased a self-inflating Therma-rest sleeping pad for the trip.

Notice the other tents in the background. These were erected by a rather large scout troop AFTER Counselor and I had chosen our site. They were a good group of kids, led by long-suffering troop leaders. They didn't make as much noise as I feared, and even provided some comic relief. After dark, one lost scout wandered into our site and asked if either of us was his dad. I was tempted to ask whether his mom lived in Salt Lake City between 1991-1994, but decided a simple "no" would be more appropriate.

Counselor's set-up was more elaborate:



I don't know if I'm sold on the idea of hammocks. I've heard some people love them. I'm may be a bit old-school, but until I'm shaped like a banana, I think I'll stick to tents. On the plus side, his hammock packs very small and goes up in seconds (Counselor literally had his hammock set up before I'd managed to stake my ground cloth). I'm told you can set this contraption up on the ground if need be.

He opted for a duvet-style down quilt instead of a traditional sleeping bag. He was a bit concerned since he hadn't yet picked up an "under quilt," and worried that he might not be warm enough (the forecast called for a nightly low of 36 degrees F). He was already struggling with a cold and didn't want it to get worse.

Should we eat twigs and berries gathered from the forest? Hell no! This is an adventure, not a health spa.



The fajita portions were huge and they sold Mexican Coke in the bottle (sweetened with sugar, not corn syrup). We were an odd looking couple; I wore jeans and the button-down oxford shirt I'd worn to work, Counselor was decked out in his bright red Klim adventure ensemble. To the good people of Livingston, TX, we may as well have been Martians.



Our bikes are still so clean!

Duly stuffed, we returned to camp, fiddled with our superfluous fire (which Counselor lit with a flint rather than with my fuel sticks--some things are a matter of form), and retired for the night.

I was anxious to begin the next day, so I popped an Ambien and read my kindle till my eyes crossed. Ah, blessed sleep! Not even bickering Boy Scouts could penetrate my chemically induced coma.

Next...Day 1

Day 1 - Saturday

**For those looking for gpx files for the ride, look [URL="http://www.texasoffroad.net/forum/ubbthreads.php/topics/498916/East_Texas_450"]here[/URL].

The day of our big adventure had come! I celebrated by sleeping well past day break. No alarms for me, I'm on vacation! I rolled out of my tent around 8a and found Counselor was nearly packed. He hadn't slept well in the hammock and decided to chuck it in my truck and take a tent instead. (Yes, he had both.)

To make matters worse, not sleeping well (or at all) had exacerbated his cold. He was suffering a bit and looked tired.

We took our time loading the bikes. Okay, I might have taken a bit more time, but again, I'm on vacation...

After arranging to leave the truck at Livingston Camp Ground, we headed to the place where all great adventures begin: Wal-Mart. I needed a headlamp anyway, and it's the traditional mustering area for the organized Texas Trail Riders event.

From Wal-Mart we drove a short stretch of highway 59 toward Moscow, TX, take a right on CR 62, then a dogleg right onto McSpadden Road, our first dirt road of the day. It was 11a or so. Kinda late start, but there's a learning curve to this stuff.



The weather couldn't be more perfect; low 70's and only a few wispy clouds. After several miles of dirt roads, no other vehicles, and rolling hills, we were in good spirits.



As we rode further into the back country, we came across many, many little bridges.



We came across so many bridges, in fact, that if we'd stopped to take pictures of them all, we'd still be there.

One word of caution about the bridges: You see the vertical planks running lengthwise along the bridge?



Sometimes those planks are damaged or missing altogether, creating an extremely narrow trap for your front tire. I nearly spilled it while going too fast over a bridge on day 3. Slow down for the bridges until you're sure they're in good repair.

Okay, one last bridge pic



In addition to bridges, you will see plenty of these:



But while you may have seen plenty of cows, the cows did not appear to have seen many motorcycles. Counselor and I tried not to spook the animals, but we clearly made them very nervous. At one point, we caused a mini-stampede. I've never seen a herd of cows run before.

After a run down some dirt roads, the route ran us along a stretch of paved farm road. The smooth tarmac allowed us to move at a little faster clip until...uh oh...



My "check engine" light turns on. I'm not a mechanic, what should I check? I still don't know why the light came on. I was purring along at a low rpm when it happened. Counselor had given me his old skid plate before we left on our trip. He had lined the inside of the plate with sound deadening material. The material was blocking the air holes on the front of the plate, so I used my key to punch them out.



In retrospect, I don't think that was the problem at all. If the bike was overheating, wouldn't the "engine temp" light have come instead? I think that, perhaps, with the heavy load on the bike, the engine didn't like being lugged along at 60mph in 6th gear. Perhaps I'll never really know because I turned the key and, hallelujah, no engine light--we're back in business.

As an aside, check out what Counselor found in his radiator guard:



It looked like an Egyptian Scarab! The picture doesn't do it justice; it was a beautiful shiny green little beetle. Wait, did I say little? Obviously, there are bigger beetles out there, but I'm glad I didn't take this one in the throat.



After a bit of road droning, we took a right into the Angelina National Forest.



Alright, now we're getting somewhere! Tall pines, no cars, and as an added bonus, the forest was on fire!



Not a raging forest fire, this was a controlled burn conducted by the Forest Service. It may not have been dangerous, but the smoking black forest was a striking counterpoint to the bright green ferns on the other side of the road.

Beyond the forest, we intersected the blink town (if you blink, you miss it) town of Colmesneil. On the outskirts of town (and by "outskirts" I mean "one half block from Main St) there were a few neat abandoned vehicles.



I liked how the coloring on this tractor so closely imitated my bike.

This abandoned old rig was just cool. Notice that Counselor is risking tetanus within the vehicle.



On a navigational note, those of you who download the GPX file will notice that it's broken into nine legs, three per day (1-1,1-2,1-3 and 2-1, 2-2, 2-3 and 3-1, 3-2, 3-3). I don't know what rationale was used to determine how long each leg of the journey would be. But you should know one thing: Section 1-1 is the longest section by far. It runs about 125 miles. The next longest section only runs about 70 miles. Don't think that the sections are broken down by convenience to gas, food, etc--there is clearly no correlation. They are simply chunks of the total trail-some as short as 33 miles. The only convenience stop listed in the GPX file is "Rays Pizza." I went to that waypoint. There is no such thing as Ray's Pizza, unless of course, you happen to be in Manhattan.

Not far from Colmesneil, your GPS will tell you to turn up Sandhill Road.



This is where they bury the motorcyclists who ride Sand Hill Road with 50/50 tires. I was glad to have a light bike and 90/10 tires! After a while, I kinda enjoyed the craziness of riding sand. The counterintuitive lunacy of punching it as soon as I feel out of control is exhilarating!

At Sam Rayburn Reservoir, Counselor decided to go off-roading though a public park. We left just as the sherifs arrived.



It was about 2p and we were starving. We both wanted to go to some cool hole-in-the-wall joint, but with our options limited we ended up at a Dairy Queen in Hemphill (I think).

What I do distinctly remember is that my hamburger had something inexplicably hard within the meat. So hard, in fact, that I chipped my front tooth.



The piece of front tooth. My first adventure-related injury.:clap

In the late afternoon we came upon the last section of the day, 1-3, which includes Nine Mile Road. This unimproved stretch of road was easily the most technical of the trip. It ran along the banks of the Toledo Bend Reservoir in the Sabine National Forest. The "road" was narrow an pocked with deep mud sections and standing water. Counselor and I were having such fun that we almost didn't notice the stretch of barbed wire running directly across the path.

Sorry, we didn't take a picture. We ended up driving along the fence line until we found a break. We drove across a field to rejoin Nine Mile Road. Before long, however, we were forced into a confrontation with a local landowner/foreman. The area was clearly being developed for housing and the developer didn't want folks driving through his land. He claimed the road was closed since he owned all the land abutting the national forest road.

I didn't argue with him. I played nice and dumb until he allowed us to continue to our destination. I don't know that I agree with his logic of the legality of closing a public roadway simply because he owns the land on both sides. I may have to call the Sabine County office and find out whether his closing the road was done legally. If not, my next trip loadout will include a letter from the county commissioner and some wire cutters. :evil

Bean's VIP campground is not where the GPS waypoint says it is. It's close, but no cigar. You'll have to drive around a bit. The peninsula is small, so you'll find it eventually.



My setup. Notice the beautiful reservoir beyond.



Counselor went with a tent this time, though a really small one.

Counselor's cold was really catching up with him at this point and he didn't feel like riding twelve miles to go out to dinner. Instead, he downed a NyQuil cocktail and shoe-horned himself into his mini-tent.

I really didn't feel like going out either, so I boiled a cup of water on the fire and prepared a Mountain Home freeze dried meal. Spaghetti. After ten minutes of soaking, it didn't look like spaghetti. It tasted almost, but not quite, entirely unlike spaghetti. I decided at last that it wasn't spaghetti, it was soup. Soup that was inspired by spaghetti. It turned out to be the best damned spaghetti soup I'd ever eaten.

One Ambien later I was sleeping like a man with a clear conscious.

**END of Day One**

Coming Soon - Day Two

Day Two - Sunday

**For those looking for gpx files for the ride, look [URL="http://www.texasoffroad.net/forum/ubbthreads.php/topics/498916/East_Texas_450"]here[/URL]."

What a great sleep I had! Beans VIP Campground was deserted and far from the road; no cars, radios, or airplanes. I woke with the pre-dawn, refreshed and ready for another great day.

The morning scene was tranquil. Steam rose from the calm water. When a fish jumped the sound seemed closer than your eyes told you was possible.



It was the kind of morning that makes you instinctively whisper.

Counselor was sleeping off his NyQuil, so I took a walk, washed the mud off my bike, and struck my tent.





Despite getting up long after me, Counselor emerged from his tiny tent and managed to be waiting before I was completely loaded. He's definitely a speedy camper.

Despite the NyQuil and rest, however, Counselor's cold had progressed (or regressed?); he clearly felt awful. We were also facing a time crunch. He had an appointment on Monday that he couldn't reschedule and we'd be hard pressed to finish two days of riding in one day.

But we had the advantage of an early start, the weather was ideal (still fluffy clouds and 70's), and we decided to give it a go. We were on the road by 8a.

Since we were trying to make good time we didn't pause to take many pictures. There were some great high-speed dirt roads coming out of Toledo Bend Reservoir, mixed with winding stretches of tarmac. There were more paved roads during this day's ride. In fact, I think there's more paved sections on day two than the other day's combined.

Then the weirdest event of the trip happened. We were riding along a remote stretch of paved road when one of these dive bombed me:



This isn't a photo of the actual hawk, but that's what I saw diving straight into my headlight. I was going about 60mph at the time. The hawk was also moving a pretty good clip, so the resulting impact was significant...THUNK!

The bird deflected along the left side of my bike, then grabbed my left pant leg with its talons! Are you kidding me! So now I'm afraid to slow down because the wind was all that was keeping the bird from getting at me. I frantically kicked my leg trying to get the hawk to release, which after about 10 seconds of lunacy, it did. The bird fell to the road and tumbled to a stop.

Free of the bird, I was finally able to stop. Counselor pulled along side laughing. "DID THAT JUST HAPPEN?" he asked. He was kicking himself for not having his GoPro running. We u-turned back to the bird and shut off our bikes. The hawk was laying motionless. We began inspecting my bike for damage and found this:



Feathers on the tire.



A feather burned onto my header pipe.



But while our backs were turned inspecting the bike, the hawk (like a villain from a horror movie) came back to life! It jumped up and began loudly flapping its wings. Counselor and I both flinched away like frightened children.

I managed to snap a (bad) photo after I recovered from my initial surprise.



We got back on the road and continued to make great time. We didn't take pictures, didn't pause at intersections, and generally rode until our butts hurt. We did stop for a train (which we raced alongside for a while).



But frankly, I don't think the point of a ride like this is to make good time, it's to have good times (that should totally be on a fortune cookie!). We arrived at Rusk Campground by 2p. We were early, but clearly not early enough to attempt the day 3 portion and hope to complete the entire ride.

After briefly trying to find a mom & pop restaurant (seriously, where did they all go?) we settled on Taco Bell. We had some decisions to make. I was dead-set on completing the ride, but knew I needed another day to do it. Counselor had an appointment he couldn't budge and was still suffering from his cold.

In the end, Counselor reluctantly decided to head for home on the Interstate and I decided to camp for the night in Rusk and finish the 500 solo the following day.



The Rusk campground was deserted. I was the only person staying in the tents area. While I think $25 is a lot of money for a camp site, I have to admit that the amenities were nice. They have a pool and hot showers. After two days of hard riding, I was pretty ripe. The showers were small but clean and the water was piping hot.

I boiled water in my camp cup and made another freeze dried meal, Beef Stew. I'm sure that if I was served this same stew at a restaurant I wouldn't be impressed, but sitting by my little fire in the quiet camp, it seemed a four-star meal.

I turned in just after dusk, read my Kindle until I was groggy and went to sleep. I was awoken around midnight by a snuffling sound at the edge of my tent. I also heard something mucking around with the trash bag I'd stored my helmet in outside. I shone my flashlight through the mesh window of my tent and came face to snout with a little pig.

I didn't want pigs chewing on my helmet, so I retrieved the helmet and brought it inside the tent. I went back to sleep and Babe didn't bother me again.

**End of Day 2**

Coming soon, Day 3--the solo adventure.

Tarptent UL's. I've got the Double Rainbow. THE BEST.

Nice pics, thanks for sharing.

Attacked by a hawk at 60mph? W-T-F????

gatorfan wrote:

Attacked by a hawk at 60mph? W-T-F????

I know right?!

Day Three - Monday

Goin' Solo!



I slept till after the sun rose. My hips ached a bit from sleeping on the ground for a third time, but I haven't felt so rested in a long time. Turning in at dusk and waking at daybreak is so great. I swear I'd add ten years to my life if I could manage to sleep like this all the time.

It was another perfect day, albeit a bit warmer than the two previous days. I packed the fleece I'd been wearing under my mesh riding pants (Klim Mojave) and wore a short sleeve shirt under my jersey and jacket.

After eating an all-American Egg McMuffin sandwich in Rusk, I fired up my GPS and hit the road. It wasn't long before the GPS track took me off the tarmac and toward Mission Tejas State Park.



Counselor isn't going to want to hear this, but I think Day three is the most scenic of the trip--it also happens to have the highest ratio of dirt roads to paved roads.

It also had the greatest number of errors in the GPS tracks. Day two had zero errors, even Day One only had the issue with Nine Mile Road. Day Three, on the other hand, has some serious routing errors that could potentially be a disaster for riders who opt not to carry supplementary fuel...like me.

Of course I had no idea there was stressful situation in the wings. I was ignorantly enjoying the tall pines, winding trails, and Texas wildflowers.



There were occasional mudholes across the path. Once I got a feel for them, they were a gas to blast through. I learned quickly to lift my feet as a barreled through. But the air was so nice that my wet socks dried almost immediately.



I was having such a fine time, in fact, that I barely noticed the miles going by--but they were. And no matter how fine a time I was having, my bike was burning through fuel at a constant rate.

Upon exiting Mission Tejas Park, the route dumps you out on CR7 for a few miles of tarmac before turning off road yet again. I was at about 65 miles on my tripmeter at that point, so I searched for nearby gas--which turned out to be about 15 miles east in Pollock, TX. I didn't want to make a 30 mile detour!

I was at the end of 3-1, and 3-2 (according to my Garmin) was only 33 miles. I've hit my reserve in as little as 96 miles before, though I usually manage 125 before the light comes on. I figured I could safely plan to drive 100 without refueling since my reserve would get me an additional 20 miles. What could go wrong? :rofl

So I made my first bad decision of the day. Instead of retreating for gas, I turned down a dirt road which a sign proclaimed was the property of the Soggy Bottoms Hunting Club. Another sign forbade anyone to continue down their road without permission from the Soggy Bottoms Hunting Club. I think that Two Wheel Texans must have obtained permission to ride their trails, at least that's the rationale I used to blow past the signs.



Incidentally, I went to the soggy bottoms website and noted that the area is especially popular for bear hunting.



I didn't see any bears. Which is a good thing considering how the hawk had responded to me. I must smell delicious.

The dirt roads were unimproved for the most part. I had to slow down to go around some felled trees or speed up to barrel through mud holes. Occasionally I'd have to get off my bike to move debris from the trail. Clearly these roads were very seldom used. I had to backtrack a few times when I missed turns.

I had gone 25 miles or so when I came upon this:



Now I know there's some trials riders and enduro racers who will scoff at my dilemma. Why don't I just drop a gear and bunny hop over the tree? Short answer, 'cause I don't know how and this didn't seem like a good time to learn. Besides, while the tree wasn't really that big, but it was suspended a couple of feet off the ground. Also, there was no way around--the forest was too dense on both sides.

What to do?



Yes, that's a hatchet hanging from my bag. Since I didn't have enough fuel to go back, I'd better get chopping!



After several minutes of chopping I was able to push the trunk closer to the ground (see above), but with this much time invested, I decided the tree simply had to go.



Success! I am KING OF LUMBERJACKS!:lol3

I was glad to be able to move the remaining portion of the tree, my hand was getting tired (since I'm more of a weekend lumberjack) and I was sweating like a faucet. I had long since ditched my jacket and would ride in my jersey for the remainder of the trip. It was in the mid 80's and getting humid.



After riding a few more minutes down the path, it occurred to me that the tree had probably lain across the road for some time. The trail was beginning to feel more and more remote.



My tripmeter said I was at about 90 miles. Clearly I did not have the fuel to reverse course. The trail went from seeming remote, to seeming abandoned.



Then it went from "abandoned" to "forgotten."



At 100 miles, the trail went from "forgotten" to "forsaken."



At 105 miles, the trail simply ceased to exist altogether.



But my GPS boldly proclaimed that the trail was alive and well, so I stood on my pegs, navigated the knee high grass, and kept alert for hidden bogs and fallen trees.

I was so alert, in fact, that I failed to note that I'd somehow deviated from the GPS track. I never saw a "turn." The forest was impenetrable on both sides. So I forged ahead until it became clear that I couldn't go forward any longer. I was at 110 miles. Damn.

I was beginning to sweat--and not because of the heat. I began an inventory of what gear I had in the event I ran out of fuel. I was glad I had my nearly empty backpack and that I was wearing hiking boots rather than MX boots. I had 64 ounces of water in two Nalgene bottles and plenty of means to make a fire. Heck, if worse came to worse, I could pitch a tent and start fresh in the morning. Of course, by that time my wife would have alerted search and rescue. I was fixated on the possibility of embarrassment when four or five boar came into view standing in the path.



This is a stock photo I found on a Texas wildlife webpage. There were four or five of THESE standing in my path. I didn't think about my camera. I didn't have long to think about anything. My arrival spooked the lead boars and they bolted into the forest--followed by about THIRTY or FORTY more pigs! They made a huge racket as they crashed through the trees. My heart pounded in my chest. I was NOT spending the night here.

I backtracked to the GPS route, only to find that the turn it advised did not exist. Not even close. Just dense forest and fencing. I most definitely did not have enough fuel to return whence I came.

I ended up following a game trail that headed in the general direction of the nearest paved road. To my relief, I intersected a hunting road, this intersected a larger gravel road just as my reserve light illuminated. I gently lugged my engine along the gravel road until it seemed deliverance was nigh. The paved road wasn't far ahead, and then...



Will ya look at the size of that fence? What do they keep in here? King Kong? I tried driving along the fence line, but it was clear that the fence went on for many miles. Dang.

White flag time. I rode back to gate, intent on climbing it and walking to the nearest gas station. When I came within ten feet of the gate, however, the gate slid open automatically! I looked around to make sure I wasn't being punk'd! Freedom.

So now I was on State Road 94, still 8 miles from the nearest gas. I babied my bike along. I've never run my bike dry, but I'd never been this close. I limped in to a gas station near Lufkin, TX. My bike was beginning to sputter. My tripmeter showed 137 miles. My three gallon tank took 2.93 gallons.

I got a coke, sat at a bench, and tried to stretch the kinks out of my neck. It was a very tense little adventure. My lesson is learned: I will never venture solo without my Rotopax again (say it ten times).

With my gas tank full, I felt very grateful. So grateful, in fact, that after turning down the dirt roads leading to Davy Crockett National Forest, I decided to stop and help a couple of colorful looking locals who appeared to be lost.



Billy and Coop were trying to deliver a horse, but were having a tough time on account of there being no road signs on the dirt roads. I gave them turn-by-turn instructions (compliments of my Garmin) and they went merrily on their way. At least I think they were grateful, they both spoke "authentic frontier gibberish," so it's hard to say.

I was on my last leg of the journey. I was sad that it was coming near an end. Crockett NF had immense bald patches devoid of trees due to the drought and subsequent logging operations to remove the deadwood.

But i did come across this:



To the untrained eye, this looks like a puddle, but NO...it's a river!



Okay, okay...it's a small river. Very small. My grandmother would have called it a creek (though she would have pronounced it "Crick").

But I'm not above chalking up even very small victories. This was my first official river crossing. Despite being over in less than two seconds, I basked in the warm glow of my accomplishment.

But it had to end sometime. Not much later I intersected State Road 287 and returned to the starting point in Moscow, TX.



I had completed the East Texas 500. What a thrill. I've never been on an adventure ride before, and while I suspected that I'd enjoy it, I didn't know how much. I will say now that this ride was one of the most enjoyable and relaxing (with one notable exception) experiences of my life.

The hook is set. I can barely wait until my next multi-day adventure!

Nice trip report. Thanks for posting it up.

That is just plain AWESOME!!

Great trip report. Really enjoyed it.

I have to say so as well.... awesome report. Thanks!

just read this report well worth reading and very well written really enjoyed it : would love to do something like that

Thanks for the ride report. New to my bike and adv riding. Nice to see another trail so close to me. (I'm 15mins to the state line)

Nice report! Thanks for taking us along!