Quick Draw
06-15-2008, 01:39 AM
Well I got to wheel my truck a bit more today, although I wasn't planning on it. Today was a dirt biking day. My cousin, best friend, and I rode all over the place.
We came to a stream crossing with huge rocks on both ends with high fast moving water, and a very steeep enbankment on the other side. After some debate, I went in first, managed to wheelie over the rocks, across the deep water, wheelie up on the next set of rocks, get out of the water, and fight to get the bike to climb the bank. I made it....and I made it look easy....
Next up was my cousin, who needed some serious encouragement to attempt it. He gets through the first set of rocks, but then hits a rock sideways in the deep stuff and lays it over. He had the completely wrong reaction....he left the bike in the water and ran out.... I ran in the water to pick it up, while he realized how stupid that reaction was, and ran back in. We finally muscled the bike out of the stream while trying not to get swept away ourselves.
It was soon clear that the crankcase, cylinder and airbox were filled with water. We emptied the airbox, and dried the foam filter. Then we removed the spark plug and pumped as much water as possible out of it, although the spark plug was shot. There wasn't much I could do about the crankcase on the trail. But I wanted to get it running again, so we could get it home. It was in a spot that I did't think I could rescue with my truck in. Without a new spark plug on hand (I'm the only one that carries spares and tools), we couldn't get it running. It would not fire, and every time the engine turned over I couldn't help but wonder what damage the water might be doing. It became clear that the bike was not riding out.
Now to plan the rescue mission. Pushing the bike to a more accessable spot was almost impossible with a steep muddy hill climb. Driving the truck there seemed impractacle with the extremely tight spaces. It was not a single track, but rather an overgrown and rarely used Jeep trail. And by the time that I got the truck down there it would be difficult to even get it back out. It was at the bottom of a hill with no place to turn around, ending in the nasty water crossing. Nonetheless, driving the truck down there made the most sense out of anything.....it wasn't impossible....but definitely not easy.
My cousin and I doubled up on my bike back to the truck, and headed right back out. We got to the muddy downhill that turned out to be much more off-camber than it seemed on bikes. The only way down was to control the inevitable slide as much as possible. I safely made it down just in front of the start of the thick vegitation that had encroached on the old trail. Feeling slightly responsible for the bike incident, I decided some pinstripping would be okay. I very carefully scraped by, trying to steer away from the larger protruding branches, until we reached the bike. Knowing that the only way out was through the stream, I decided to make sure that I could make it through without getting stuck, before we loaded the bike. I got most of the way across and popped my front tires up on the rocks at the opposite side, and decided that I could do it. We loaded up the bike and went. The truck climbed over the first set of rocks no problem, like before. Except this time I was at a bit of a different angle. The truck got tippy towards the downstream side for a moment, flipping out my cousin, before finally dropping in the stream bed between the big rocks. With only the mental image of the locations of the rocks, I climbed the next set, setting the truck down on the sliders for a moment. With a little throttle blip, the back end lugged itself out of the stream bed, up over the next set of rocks were I stopped for a moment. The front end of the truck had already started to climb the steep enbankment. but it was going to be tough to get further. With some more throttle, the big 35s moved the rocks they were sitting atop, dropping the rear end down in the stream bed again. With momentum still on my side, I continued on the gas, up the hill, with all 4 wheels spinning up it until it finally dropped on to the county road at the top.
I'd like to give a big thanks to the club for the very valuable driving skills I have obtained through it. I'd also like to give a big thanks to Molly, and her 35" tires that made it all possible.
All of this with a dirt bike, 35" spare, a hi-lift, and a loading ramp in the back, mind you. And that, my friends, is the way that I make Jeeps jealous. :)
Sorry for the novel....its been quite a day.
BTW, I taught myself to snowbash with a dirt bike today....it's really quite a technique. I just wish I had a better technique for getting it back out when I'm dug in and 30 yards from dry land. :D
We came to a stream crossing with huge rocks on both ends with high fast moving water, and a very steeep enbankment on the other side. After some debate, I went in first, managed to wheelie over the rocks, across the deep water, wheelie up on the next set of rocks, get out of the water, and fight to get the bike to climb the bank. I made it....and I made it look easy....
Next up was my cousin, who needed some serious encouragement to attempt it. He gets through the first set of rocks, but then hits a rock sideways in the deep stuff and lays it over. He had the completely wrong reaction....he left the bike in the water and ran out.... I ran in the water to pick it up, while he realized how stupid that reaction was, and ran back in. We finally muscled the bike out of the stream while trying not to get swept away ourselves.
It was soon clear that the crankcase, cylinder and airbox were filled with water. We emptied the airbox, and dried the foam filter. Then we removed the spark plug and pumped as much water as possible out of it, although the spark plug was shot. There wasn't much I could do about the crankcase on the trail. But I wanted to get it running again, so we could get it home. It was in a spot that I did't think I could rescue with my truck in. Without a new spark plug on hand (I'm the only one that carries spares and tools), we couldn't get it running. It would not fire, and every time the engine turned over I couldn't help but wonder what damage the water might be doing. It became clear that the bike was not riding out.
Now to plan the rescue mission. Pushing the bike to a more accessable spot was almost impossible with a steep muddy hill climb. Driving the truck there seemed impractacle with the extremely tight spaces. It was not a single track, but rather an overgrown and rarely used Jeep trail. And by the time that I got the truck down there it would be difficult to even get it back out. It was at the bottom of a hill with no place to turn around, ending in the nasty water crossing. Nonetheless, driving the truck down there made the most sense out of anything.....it wasn't impossible....but definitely not easy.
My cousin and I doubled up on my bike back to the truck, and headed right back out. We got to the muddy downhill that turned out to be much more off-camber than it seemed on bikes. The only way down was to control the inevitable slide as much as possible. I safely made it down just in front of the start of the thick vegitation that had encroached on the old trail. Feeling slightly responsible for the bike incident, I decided some pinstripping would be okay. I very carefully scraped by, trying to steer away from the larger protruding branches, until we reached the bike. Knowing that the only way out was through the stream, I decided to make sure that I could make it through without getting stuck, before we loaded the bike. I got most of the way across and popped my front tires up on the rocks at the opposite side, and decided that I could do it. We loaded up the bike and went. The truck climbed over the first set of rocks no problem, like before. Except this time I was at a bit of a different angle. The truck got tippy towards the downstream side for a moment, flipping out my cousin, before finally dropping in the stream bed between the big rocks. With only the mental image of the locations of the rocks, I climbed the next set, setting the truck down on the sliders for a moment. With a little throttle blip, the back end lugged itself out of the stream bed, up over the next set of rocks were I stopped for a moment. The front end of the truck had already started to climb the steep enbankment. but it was going to be tough to get further. With some more throttle, the big 35s moved the rocks they were sitting atop, dropping the rear end down in the stream bed again. With momentum still on my side, I continued on the gas, up the hill, with all 4 wheels spinning up it until it finally dropped on to the county road at the top.
I'd like to give a big thanks to the club for the very valuable driving skills I have obtained through it. I'd also like to give a big thanks to Molly, and her 35" tires that made it all possible.
All of this with a dirt bike, 35" spare, a hi-lift, and a loading ramp in the back, mind you. And that, my friends, is the way that I make Jeeps jealous. :)
Sorry for the novel....its been quite a day.
BTW, I taught myself to snowbash with a dirt bike today....it's really quite a technique. I just wish I had a better technique for getting it back out when I'm dug in and 30 yards from dry land. :D