I first heard about the SheetIron 300 enduro event several years ago. Some of my friends have ridden it and they don’t stop talking about how awesome it is. While I have played off-road a fair amount dating back about 7 years I still do not own a proper dirtbike so I never thought I would be participating in something like the SheetIron as soon as this year. I was wrong. Very happily wrong.

It began a couple months ago. I emailed one of the organizers at the Oakland Motorcycle Club (OMC) to see if it would be alright to just go to Stonyford -where the SheetIron begins and ends- and volunteer in hopes of getting to know some people and to participate in some capacity. The guy said, “sure, you’re welcome to come up. When you arrive look for me and we’ll find a way for you to help out.” So that was the plan. I had the weekend blocked off since about March.

Next I talked about it with some friends and found out that a few were going to try to sign up. The SheetIron only gets a permit for 500 riders so needless to say it’s a challenge getting in.

Then, after going to one SheetIron vet’s birthday party in late April he told me I was welcome to borrow his DR-Z400. Within days he called to let me know that another friend of his was unable to go this year and was giving up his entry. My friend said it was mine if I wanted it. What? Really?!!  “Hell yes!” I told him. (That’s exactly what I said.)

And then everything just came together.

I found a couple of nice guys on the Bay Area Riders Forum (B.A.R.F.) who were able to trailer the DR-Z up to Stonyford and two of my pals got entries so there was my ride. I already own most of the gear but added a few more essentials and next thing I knew it was ON.

Troy, Chris and I left San Francisco on Friday a bit past noon in Chris’s Suburban towing a U-Haul trailer with their bikes. Chris has a DR650 thumper and Troy has a gorgeous fuel injected WR250. We arrived at the Stonyford Rodeo Grounds around 5 o’clock where several hundred participants were already setting up their camps, riding bikes around and generally getting amped for the weekend ahead. We checked in, quickly set up our tents and those other two brought their bikes through the very loose tech inspection which included your bike getting something akin to a wire anal probe. Upon leaving the check-in we were greeted by a very friendly man named Tom who heartily shook our hands and with much sincerity said “Welcome to the SheetIron. Thank you very much for participating. Have a wonderful time!” It was indicative of the interactions I would have the whole weekend.

Finally my bike arrived and I took it through tech. A-OK, ready to go!

After making friends with a few of our neighbors and using one of their grills to cook up dinner we got to bed around ten. I set my watch alarm for 547am (I hate round numbers).  I was sleeping essentially on the ground because I didn’t bring a mattress pad but somehow got a good enough night of sleep and was up a hair ahead of that bothersome beeping. I wondered when I would hear the first bike fire up and I didn’t have to wait very long. Must have been a bit past six. Despite our grogginess we made decent time getting going and were checking our bags in around  7 then riding off.  Finally riding off.

There was so much anticipation about this event even before I knew I would get to participate. Just the thought of borrowing my buddy’s bike and taking it to somewhere where there are trails made me excited and anxious. From the first time I rode a 125 on some guy’s farm several years ago I knew that I wanted to get good at this. But it has been a bit elusive. Will this be the kick in the pants I need?

So it’s after 7am and we are riding down the country road out of Stonyford in the crisp early morning air. I’m trying not to be nervous. I am telling myself “dude, you’re a motorcyclist. You’ve been riding for years. You belong here.” Yet I felt so awkward out of my normal element. Whenever it’s been awhile since I’ve ridden off-road I start off kind of jittery and it takes a little while to warm up. Eventually I always find my groove so this knowledge helps me relax some.

Following the roll charts provided to us at check-in we first ride off-pavement onto an easy dirt road about 8 miles outside of town. Shortly afterwards we come to a clearing where we find our first easy/hard split. The “hard” is Goat Mountain (footage from the 2011 event) which to me at that time was more than I was ready to attempt. By my guesstimation it is at least a 45 degree climb up the face of this mountain and keeps going up and out of site for maybe a couple thousand yards. It’s as if the mountain is daring you to keep your front end down and throws plenty of ruts in just to fuck with you. We watched a few guys tumble so I was more than happy to take the easy split there.

Eventually we made our way into the woods where we rode up, down and around bumpy, dirty and sometimes gravely roads. We crossed a few streams and punched through deep grooves left by 4-wheelers. At this point I was really loving my DR-Z by the way. I kept messing up my downhill corners, often going wide and I believe barely averting disaster. I can guarantee you that my mom does not want to know about the drop-offs waiting on the back side of some of those turns. Going uphill I was making much cleaner corners but the downward slides into sharp banks just wigged me out. So I found purpose in getting that figured out. I’m not saying I really did master it all weekend but I sure as shit got a lot closer. There were certainly times in the afternoon of both days that I felt I had found a good flow. And despite the 150+mile days I always wanted to turn around and do more.

We pulled into Fort Bragg around 5pm on Sat. and picked up our bags at the designated spot.  Also at bag pick-up was the photo ops which were included with our event fees. A nice touch. For that we were directed to ride our bikes into an enclosed tennis court where cameras were set up and our pictures were snapped against an official SheetIron 300 backdrop. After that we rode over to the Holiday Inn to check in. They brought a cot up for me since I was a late add-on and not part of the original sleeping plan. In the room were two queen beds, one cot and a whole lot of motorcycle gear. Needless to say it was tight.

We were filthy as fuck so we prioritized showering and then went downstairs to clean our bike chains, check air filters and generally assess our bikes’ conditions. Fortunately for each of us there were no problems and we moved on to the task of feeding our hungry selves.  After a short-sighted attempt to walk to food we doubled back, grabbed our bikes and rode the couple miles down the road to the local brew pub where we found half the event participants and possibly half the township. It was busy. Not only that but we came to find out that the restaurant was short-staffed and apparently unaware that 500 hungry motorcyclists were invading that weekend. In lieu of getting our own table we joined some guys that Chris knew from B.A.R.F. and enjoyed chatting with them. It took quite a while to get our food ordered, nearly as long to receive it and then the aps and mains were all brought out together. That’s the kind of night they were having. But the staff was very nice and the food was decent. The beers were delicious too.

On Sunday we woke up and got going on our proposed timeline but got waylay’d by nearly an hour when we ran into the B.A.R.F. group from Saturday evening at bag check and Chris decided we should tag along with them. In the end that proved to be too much work so we pursued our original 3-man plan though we connected with them at several points over the course of the day.

Just a little while before lunch we were in a forest on this mountain riding some nominally technical terrain. It was very dusty (several guys said it was the dustiest year they could remember) and you had to keep your distance from the bike in front of you because the dust cloud left you virtually blinded. That’s generally a bad thing when you’re doing over 30mph along an already shadowy path of bumps and loose surface. I was riding about 80 percent confidently about 80 percent of the time when suddenly around a hard left downhill bank I came upon an accident that just happened. Troy, who is a solid rider with prior motocross experience, had been playing chase with another apparently competent dude. He was right on the guy’s butt when the guy missed his corner, slammed into the backside berm and flipped his bike. His leg smacked a tree trunk pretty hard and he ended up with a tibial compound fracture. By the time Chris and I came around the bend 5 or so guys had already stopped to help out.  Poor victim was yelping in agony.  We parked our bikes off to the side of the path and I walked back up-hill to slow the on-coming riders down. Some of them were really hammering it and racing each other so it was difficult to get them to snap out of their adrenaline rush.

Miraculously, somebody’s cell was getting a signal so they called in an ambulance. It took a while but I finally flagged down an EMT among the riders. I think we were at the scene for about an hour before being relieved.

Continuing on, roughly five minutes past the scene we had to duck under a large tree that had fallen about chest high across the washed-out road. Shortly afterwards we crossed paths with an ambulance coming up the same road, siren blaring. We knew they were going to get stonewalled by the tree and have to turn back. Poor guy. I would bet he didn’t get off the mountain for at least 3 hours. The crash happened in a fairly inaccessible place unless by all-terrain vehicle like a bike or a quad.

Putting that past us we rode on and with some navigation difficulties made our way off the mountain into Lucerne for lunch. The roll charts were not consistently helpful on Sunday. They actually seemed confusing and had many guys stopped along the routes, scratching their heads going “is this the right road?” Fortunately both Troy and Chris had GPS units on their bikes so we were able to find our way out.

We had a not-nutritious lunch at Fosters Freeze. I think the burger I ordered was listed as having over a thousand calories. But I have to admit it was damn tasty …and so was the vanilla shake.

More great riding in the afternoon although we had to labor through several long stretches of highway to get to the good stuff. Knobby tires with low air pressure do not make for the funnest ride on pavement.

The last hard split was Cow Mountain.  Initially I was doubtful about tackling that because in fact I do not want to die (or get a compound fracture) but Troy made the executive decision that we were all doing it and I could not be happier about that. Thanks Troy!!  Cow Mountain was exquisite if I may use such a term. Very dusty single track going up- and downhill with switch-backs, big ol’ ruts and a couple of steep climbs. For added fun it must have been 85 degrees on the open mountain-top. Up there the vegetation wasn’t more than 8 feet high and we got the sun’s full kiss which meant that stopping left you baking inside your layers of armor and motorcycle gear. Chris was getting tired from trying to keep his heavy DR650 upright so he stopped several times while in front. I think I “gently” urged him to keep moving a few times. Nonetheless, when we got off that part of Cow Mountain I truly wished to ride it again. I felt like I wanted to get back in line for the bumper cars at the county fair.

But coming up was a long silky gravel road where Troy went ahead and kept a comfortable pace of about 35 miles per hour which allowed me to work on virtually everything. A half an hour of that left me feeling the need to tear off a little and I did so promising to hold up at the next intersection. Right before shoving off Chris said to me “You know, if you go faster you can get more hurt.” I said “yep, I know it. But I’m working on shit and I think I am onto something.”  I passed a few guys but it may be that they were hot and tired and taking it easy. But maybe something else as well. I was getting better.

I haven’t said enough about the scenery along our journey but suffice to say –whenever I was able to look up- it was breath-taking at times. Such beautiful country! Coming down off Cow Mountain there were magnificent vistas and although we only stopped once or twice to snap a few photos really we could have been hopping off the bikes every couple of minutes to capture something pretty awesome.

We rode through this gorgeous grassy valley where we stopped for a bit and marveled at it’s vastness. I think we also realized it was nearly the end of the ride and frankly, we weren’t quite ready to be done with it.  I’m still not.

I was a bit sad as we pulled in to the Rodeo Grounds at Stonyford. I wanted to keep on playing! But it was such a brilliant weekend. I felt triumphant and… “I got to do that!”

Well, it’s looking more and more like a motorcycle. We have the engine put together as of this evening! The head gaskets arrived, thankfully. First in were the clutch plates and we installed the cams and cam chain.

Cam chain

When the cylinder head covers went on it really started looking like an engine again.  We’d hoped to get ‘er started tonight but that was ambitious. It’s a lot of frickin’ work! I sure do appreciate mechanics more each time.  By 930 we were stoked to get the bike back up onto the stand and lift the engine in.  We have a few mounting bolts on so far and got the throttle bodies situated as well.  There is still a bin full of parts including the radiator, oil cooler and air box.

I’m going to go on a limb and say we’ll have it finished next week…but you never know.

For info. on cool classes like this, valve adjustment, tire change/mount/balance and more check out Bay Area Moto Shop. Tell them Evan sent you. :-)

http://www.yelp.com/list/motorcycle-san-francisco

Here I’ve listed my favorite shops and services in the Bay Area motorcycle industry.

It’s been awhile since my last blog on our engine progress.  The class -which was slated for 5 weeks- has actually gone much longer.  After the first two sessions we took a week off for Valentines and then an additional two weeks because the parts we had on order still didn’t come through.  Finally, we got the parts in and began to reassemble our SV650 motor.

Of course we realized we forgot to order head gaskets. Hopefully those will arrive in time for class this week so we can get that engine back in the bike. We did, however, manage to get the cylinders back in along with the clutch, counter shaft and cam chain, and we put the two halves back together, coating the edges all around with a compound that essentially creates a gasket.

Here we are buffing out the cylinder and lubing with WD40 as we go.

Also this week I was over at Moto Shop putting new rear rubber on my Z1000. I love learning from these guys and saving a bunch of money on labor charges. Maybe one of these days I’ll even get good at using that tire machine. :-)

This page offers a pretty good explanation.

https://www.denniskirk.com/help_center/tire-sizes.jsp

Be informed next time you go shopping for new rubber!

If you have spent any time in San Francisco during the past few years you are probably familiar with these things called ”parklets,” stylized public seating areas built out from curbs around the city that replace two car parking spaces each. Their increasing proliferation is a clear sign that SF is becoming actively more pedestrian-friendly and simultaneously more automobile-hostile. Unintentionally there has been a benefit for those of us on two wheels. The buffer zone on either side of the parklets (complete with rubber bumper to stop cars from backing into the structures) is a perfect fit for most motorcycles and scooters. And the kicker: it’s a non-space; un-marked in any way and apparently without a clear definition in city parking codes. In effect, it is a free parking spot for bikes. Personally, I like to think of this as a reward for not being a part of traffic congestion.

Now, I realize this lack of regulation isn’t likely to last forever as the CHP’s recently published lane-splitting guidelines seem to confirm. Sooner or later the powers that be will wise up and paint that portion of the curb red. But for now I am going to enjoy the hell out of this apparent oversight and hope it takes quite a while for the city to do something about us hooligans who skirt the rules and fly under the radar.

In fact some selfish part of me is going “Shut up, idiot. Don’t broadcast this information. Every Vespa-driving hipster in the city is going to start utilizing these fantastic no-man’s-lands which will create a stir and then your free parking party will be over.”  But I can’t help it. I want to make others aware of this good fortune. I want people driving cars to be annoyed enough that they will go out and get their M1s and reduce the ridiculous traffic clusterfuck which will of course lower the road rage quotient which will leave fewer unhappy drivers which will make our city an even cooler place to be …which would likely increase the population and there we go ’round again. But let’s forget about that last bit.

The real point of this story was to tell you about my funny interaction with a DPT agent yesterday. I was looking for parking outside of my gym on Polk. Across the street one of the parklet buffer zones was already taken by my fellow trainer pal’s Ducati Monster. In front of the other a DPT Intercepter vehicle was double-parked with a burly female agent inside talking on her phone. I thought about this for about three seconds and then decided ‘what the heck.’ So I pulled up alongside of her and gently knocked on her window. She slid it open and I asked her politely if she wouldn’t mind pulling her cart forward a few feet. She looked at me and asked knowingly “you want to use the free spot, huh?” I said yes. And then -certainly already knowing the answer- she asked “Why don’t you use the pay spots over there?” (There are five designated motorcycle spaces literally right next to the parklet.) Without a second thought I replied “because this one is free.” We both chuckled and she pulled forward so I could park. Needless to say it felt like the greatest coup ever!

As I went inside I wondered if she was going to nail me with a ticket and flee. A few hours later when I returned to my bike I was delighted to find it ticket-free.

The engine finally came out after unclamping half a dozen hoses and figuring out where all the mounting bolts were. Hardest to remove was the one securing the left-side frame slider. The head was stripped and the shaft oxidized but Amir, our experienced instructor taught us a nice trick to bang some shape into the hex for solid enough traction to get it out. 

Next was checking valve clearances using feeler gauges.  To get your readings each cylinder needs to be rotated to top dead center (TDC).  All were within spec but if any are off the mark the corresponding shims must be replaced.

Ultimately we are looking into the source of an engine knock. Apparently it’s a loose rod bearing connected to the crank shaft. We’ll have a look at that next week. Until then I’m probably going to watch a few Youtube videos on this topic.

I’ve been riding motorcycles for a decade and a half. I’m at the point where I feel pretty confident getting around on two wheels but when it comes to tearing the suckers apart I must admit I still feel like a virtual child.

Sure, I do some of my own basic maintenance. I’ve held a carburetor in my hands more than once, done minor electrical work and changed out a few tires. But the truth of the matter is I don’t have a ton of time to be digging into my bikes, have them apart for weeks waiting for parts to come in, and I certainly can’t afford to experiment and mess it up so usually I just leave the big jobs to the pros.

Then I saw the promo for Moto Shop’s Engine Re-build class where you get to tear into someone else’s motorcycle, learn how to do the work correctly from a skilled tech using their tools, and then go home to a clean garage! How could I pass on that opportunity? Well obviously, I couldn’t.

Today was day one. We spent the first hour looking at slides of engines, covered general terminology and examined the four-stroke cycle. And then we got right into it. There were six of us for two bikes, a Yamaha R6 and a Suzuki SV650. I worked on the SV. After a couple of hours we just about had the engine ready to drop. But first we drained the fluids and did compression and leakdown tests. Another few bolts and she’s out. That will be next week’s class. Can’t wait!

It’s winter time. In winter it rains. It gets dark early. Winds kick up. There are more road hazards. A different style of riding is required. Different gear is required. Good decision-making is mandatory.

For some of you riding in the rain is something you’re not comfortable with and that’s totally cool. Refer to rule #1: The minute you go out of your comfort zone on a bike you’re asking for trouble. But if you’re ready to try it or already doing it there are a few things I want you to know.

I think it is safe to say the biggest concerns about winter time riding are traction, getting cold/wet and being recognized by other motorists.

Here’s a laundry list that will help you be prepared:

Weather.
Check weather reports weekly. We have these nice dry periods and get accustomed to it. Next thing you know you’re at work at it begins raining. You don’t have proper gear with you and getting home is not going to be fun.
Solution: Either leave a pair of cheapo rain pants at work or make sure to have some fold-up rain gear with you when rain is on the report.

Gear.
Outerwear: I have never owned a full rain suit such as the popular Aerostitch brand. They seem pretty badass but I typically can’t find a spare $500-$1000 in my motorcycle apparel budget for one of those beauts. And frankly, for my commuting needs that may be overkill and I’ve never taken extended road trips in lousy weather. So before you invest decide if a full suit is right for you.

For commuting and general local needs I have managed just fine with thoughtful layering. Here’s my “special Bay Area layering system”:
Above the waist from inside, out: tee shirt + long sleeve Dri-Fit or smart wool top, hoodie and/or light insulated zip-front warm up jacket, then leathers on top or perhaps a shell over that. From bare chest that’s about 5 layers, thinnest on the inside. I have a rain-specific jacket too but I tend to use that less. That’s just my preference.

Below the waist: I either wear leather pants which keep rain and cold out quite well for short to medium duration trips or I have a fantastic pair of Olympia brand weather pants made of ballistic Cordura fabric and 3M reflective material. They have hip & knee armor, come with a zip-out insulated liner, have well-placed pockets and and they are super easy to get on and off. Several other companies make a similar product. Mine cost me about two hundred bones a few years back and they still look as good as new other than the lint that gets stuck to the velcro.
Stop by your local retailer and try a pair or three on.
Additionally, I sometimes wear long underwear bottoms or running tights under my regular pants or rain pants when it’s cold out.

Boots: I love my Sidi Gortex boots. They keep me warm and dry and aren’t too bad to walk around in for awhile even if they are a bit clunky. I got ‘em two seasons ago when I had an extra $350 lying around. But you don’t need motorcycle-specific boots. I have another pair of sh*tkickers that work well. Note, if you have lace-up boots please double knot them AND tuck in the extra length. It’s not unheard of to get loops caught in your gear shifter. Yes, that has happen to me.  No matter what, don’t ride around in your hip Chuck Taylors when the weather is bad. That’s just dumb.

Gloves: Get a pair of Gortex or other rain-resistant insulated gloves for winter time. You’ll be sooo glad you did. Sometimes I go through a couple pair of gloves on really wet days so it’s not a bad idea to have more than one pair. The kind where the fingertips are sewn in is best. If you’ve ever tried to reinsert (damp) glove fingers into their proper holes you know what a pain in the ass it is. My gloves also have a little rubber wiper blade on the thumb side of the index finger; they work decently for wiping your face shield off.

Why layers? San Francisco microclimates are a special thing, aren’t they? Some places you go are warmer than others. Some buildings you go into are warmer than others. When it comes to cold and wet I’m kind of a wuss. I love having the option to unload some layers while retaining others. If you remove it you can always put it back on.  It’s been working for me for years. The biggest challenge is finding a large enough spot to drop it all in when you arrive at your destination.

Final word on gear…Talk to the folks at the shops about the right apparel for your needs. They are riders too, they know what works and will help you with sizing so pick their brains.

The ride.
Mantra: Every time you get on your motorcycle or scooter (rain or shine for that matter) say these words to yourself: “I WILL make it to my destination! Too many people love and care for me, and I love myself.” -You do, right?
So here are a few solid riding tips.

First off, when it’s wet out practice using your brakes on a quiet street or in a parking lot. Start off gently and be progressively more aggressive. You may experience your brakes locking up or tires skidding (especially the rear in both cases). You should know how your brakes and tires react on slippery surfaces BEFORE you have to use them in those conditions in traffic.

When the pavement is damp or wet leave more buffer room behind other vehicles than you would in dry conditions and scan the space in between moving cars. Sometimes that’s the best place for you to reside and it might be your way out of a sticky situation. Stop fixating on painted lane markers and start seeking out open spaces wherever they may be.

Make yourself known to other motorists. This is 24/7, 365 of course. Use all of your tools to be seen and heard. That means horn toots, it means, throttle blips, it means high/low beam flashing, it means weaving, and it means assertive body signaling. You must create and maintain space for yourself, particularly in wet weather but in order to do that you have to let the cages know you’re there.

Things in the road that can ruin your day when it’s wet: Manhole covers are like a slip n slide if your wheels aren’t straight and your speed isn’t steady, especially mid-corner. A few years back in pouring rain I came to a stop for a red light. When I applied the front brake the front tire happened to be on top of a manhole cover. Next thing I knew I was on my side. Fortunately, it was mostly my pride that was hurt. DPW reflective road paint is deceptively slippery. And of course streetcar rails are nasty in the rain. Cross tracks at a 45 degree angle! Other hazards: those large metal construction plates, oil and coolant spills, sand and wet leaves.

So how do you drive on very slippery surfaces?
Carry constant speed. Do NOT accelerate hard on slippery surfaces. Maintain very even throttle or in some instances gliding is even recommended. Have you ever crossed the metal drawbridges at 3rd and 4th Streets by AT&T Park in San Francisco? Try it in the rain!

In the event of the ‘crapulent’:  i.e. What if you do go down?
If you do drop your bike keep your head. If you are in traffic you’ll need to move the bike out of the way if that’s at all possible. If you cannot do it or can’t do it alone start directing people what to do. Be calm and clear and tell them how they can help you. People actually want to help but they themselves panic and don’t really know what to do. If another vehicle is involved do not forget to get the driver’s information no matter how “ok” you think you are. Get witness info. as well. If you don’t need it that’s great but if you do and don’t have it that’s unfortunate.

If you are not sure what your medical condition is following an accident or cannot move on your own do not allow yourself to be moved by non-medical professionals. Just direct people to block space for you and to re-direct traffic until official help arrives.

Thanks for reading! I hope you found this info. helpful. Happy and healthy holidays to all of you!

Chief Monkey

February 22, 2012 near Vientiane, Laos

I wanted moto adventure and today I got it.

I got back to VTE from the north a day later than expected and did not plan to stay there overnight but had the pleasure of couch surfing w/ Kirsi, the Finnish ex-pat whose company I thoroughly enjoyed.

This morning I was moving slowly so when I finally got my ass in gear and made it over to Jules bike rental I was anxious to get going. I’d been waiting a week for the off-road bike to become available.

We took care of the paperwork and Ting, who is a hellova nice guy, was helping me map out routes when it began to rain. Having no riding gear at all my request to use theirs was fortunately granted and Ting sent me upstairs to grab whatever apparell I wanted. Unfortunately, Most of it was old and in poor condition as some tour groups came in first and snatched up all of the good stuff.  Dang. So I rifled through what they had left and came up with a jacket, a well-used helmet, cheapo rain pants that were ripped at the crotch, as well as a water-proof bag for my gear and some bungees to tie it on the bike.  The bike I got was a Honda XR250, generally a pretty bullet-proof ride.

I waited as long as I felt comfortable doing, calculating how much daylight I needed to get to the first proposed destination. At around 2-something there was a break in the downpour so I went for it but right after I left the rain picked up again. Regardless, I had to go back to the shop because the bike was idling way too high (the idle screw head was broken off so a pliers was needed to make the adjustment) and the drain hose from one of the carb float bowls had fallen out (the end of the hose is split so the thing was going to pop off again but that shouldn’t effect the bike’s performance…right?!). I got only a mile away from the shop and managed to fill the tank but I was already soaking wet and had two problems to contend with. A wiser man might have called it and waited one more day. But being the stupid, adventurous type I set off again as soon as the bike issues were dealt with.

The rain never let up and within 15Km I found myself on a dirt road along the Mekong just as Ting had described. It was an otherwise beautiful rural route. But wet dirt equals mud in case you’d forgotten, and as I went deeper into the countryside these roads became severely pitted. Many of the pits were actually massive craters, all filled with rain. If my camera was water-proof (and I wasn’t cold and soaking wet) I would have some fantastic evidence of those ridiculous conditions. Each time my front end dropped into a crater it was a surprise how deep it might be. Through several of these -in futile attempts to keep my feet from being completely water-logged- I leaned back in the seat lifting my legs off the pegs high and wide like I was doing some sort of yoga posture. What a joke.

Adding to the “adventure” I still didn’t have anything lighter than orange lenses but I could not ride without something protecting my eyes. The rain was driving, the drops were stinging my forehead. It was really slippery and sometimes the road was off-camber. Tractors had gone through and carved trenches of their own. I kept reminding myself to just stay on the gas. ‘Do not get off the gas or you’re going down. Right here in the pouring rain in the middle of nowhere with nobody around. Shit, I might go down anyway.’

A few times I stopped under shelters to pull out my soaking wet road map. I wasn’t completely certain I was going the right way and by now I was far out into the countryside.

At a small village I came to a cross-roads and drove under the shelter of this hardware store, for lack of a better term, to again check my map and take a needed break. I could barely see and I was a getting cold. All I was wearing under the super-saturated riding jacket was a sleeveless tee and I had no gloves.

There was a man in the back of the shop sitting on a stool eating sunflower seeds and watching bad drama t.v. from Thailand with Lao subtitles. They love their dramas here. Seems to be all they watch. It was funny to see his face as he turned to watch soaking wet white boy ride a big dirtbike right into his shop frontage and create a growing puddle as I pulled myself off the motorcycle. I imagined the look on my own face; a combination of despair, resignation and just a little smile like the one I’ll have re-telling this story months later.

The man motioned for me to join him at the table. There was another stool next to his. And he offered me sunflower seeds. All I could do was sit and drip for several minutes, trying to consider my next move despite feeling rather stunned. I scanned around his shop for anything I could use…some farming gloves, clear lenses that might otherwise be used for industrial work, any clothing… At first I saw none of those. I plopped myself back down, took my shoes and socks off (rang the socks out on the man’s cement floor), I took the jacket off and I pulled out my map. As I unfolded it and layed it out over boxes of screws, bolts and fasteners pools of water in the map creases poured out.

The rain was still coming down hard and it was now past 330; I was quite aware that I only had about two more hours of daylight for riding and it would only get colder. I hoped to make it to Paksan for the night but that was looking less likely.

Just as things seemed at their worst wouldn’t you know that’s when they started getting better. This unlikely man slowly became my savior. First he pulled out a plastic bag for me to put my wet socks in. Then, looking around the shop some more I found a rack of sunglasses and there was that pair of safety glasses I’d been hoping to find! The only pair. I was overjoyed! But wait…what’s this? Another pair of clear lense specs that were even more head-fittingly appropriate. Excellent! -And what? He had a package of socks for sale! What were the chances of that? Then the guy goes and digs in a box and he pulls out a whole frickin’ rain suit. Jeebus f’in Crackers! The icing on the cake was when I got two more plastic bags from him, put them over my feet, and tied the tops before putting the shoes back on. It was delusional to assume that rig would keep me dry for the rest of the day’s riding but at the time it was like the gods were smiling on me.

I put on the suit. It was sized “Asian farm boy” but functional. It would keep me warmer at least. Now, if the rain would only let up… Uhh, you guessed it! So I quickly gathered my things, put the riding jacket from Jules on top of my new rain jacket, paid the nice man and bolted with a big smile on my face. He’d confirmed the direction towards Paksan so I was feeling better about my whereabouts despite still being way out in the boonies.

A short time after I got moving again the rain picked up, then it was pouring, then my feet were soaked again. I had to chucle despite the futility of the situation. I rode down long, muddy stretches of road with hardly a soul on them. A few times I thought for sure I was going down and was really wishing I was a better off-roader. But again I kept repeating to myself “stay on the gas!”  Eventually I made it to Rte 13 and pavement!

I pulled into the first gas station to collect myself again and check the distance to the nearest place I might find a bed as I definitely wouldn’t be making it to Paksan. When I rode away again the kickstand was dragging. I thought I’d spaced on putting it up but it turned out the spring was missing. Ha! Now, with the sidestand dragging I 180′d back to the station where the attendant was standing waving the spring at me. I tried re-installing it but something wasn’t right. I couldn’t figure out where it attached at the top. What? Am I that batty from the ordeal thus far? The station guy and I were communicating completely in hand movements. (I’m getting pretty good at that.) He indicated there was a mechanic just up the road so I set off to find it, hooking my foot around the stand so it wouldn’t keep clinking along the road.

Luckily there was in fact a mechanic a few hundred feet ahead. I drove up to find a couple guys drinking BeerLaos under cover and once again hand-communicated my issue, showing them the spring. One of them had me roll the bike over to the shop and we realized the top bolt that the spring attaches to had busted off so he scanned his shop floor for a suitable piece of metal and found a nice one with a button end, welded that on, affixed the spring back on using a pair of pliers (all while doing the “Asian squat”) and did not charge me for the job.

I offered to buy he and his buddy beers and they invited me to join them. Soon a couple of girls came out of the house behind us. One spoke some English and was able to help me figure out where we were on the map. I was in the town of Naxo, roughly 80km from Paksan. After another 20 min or so of hanging out I realized I was pushing my luck with the daylight so I thanked them profusely (phonetically in Lao: “khawp jai”), and got my ass moving. A short way down the road I came upon a roadside hotel for 80,000 Kip ($10). Good enuf.

I pulled off my drenched gear and left it outside under cover, took a kind-of-warm shower and had a good laugh. Then I went to find much-needed and well-earned grub. Aahhhhhh.

…After thoughts:

In the shower that evening I thought about how when you you set off to unfamiliar places you go hoping for smooth sailing and good times. But so often you have your best experiences with people in times of adversity. I realize that given the opportunity humans generally enjoy helping total strangers in need. I’ve seen and experienced it time and again. One vote for faith in humanity.

On the way back to Vientiane several days later I decided to take the same country route. This time it was sunny and gorgeous aside from a few remaining puddles. I found my friend at his hardware shop and took a few more smiley photos w/ him. Later I came upon a group of locals sitting outside a store having social time. They called me in and were stoked when I bought beers all around. As nice as it would have been to be able to chat w/ them it truly wasn’t imperitive. Smiles all around really were enough.