happy easter everyone!

[esteban80127]

Denver 3-30-02 ride: 3 KTMs, 1 DRZ, 2 KLRs, and an interloping VTR all met for McBfast at an expeditous hour. Faces, names, and bikes from anonymous web posts and internet rants could be seen at last. Now the electronic and mental to go physical. The ride was on and 6 restless riders and bikes were rarin to go. This was not a "Yahoo list post" but the real McCoy. Michael who nixed his LC8 plans came with his bought-the-night-before 97 KLR, "Blake The Bike" who can ride no hands to the top of Mt Evans sans motor came with his stunningly sexy 2001 KTM Adventure 640 LC4, Nevada a refugee right out of the Cisco Kid series had a very sleek DRZ 400 with electric start, quiet demure Floyd and his understated green KLR had liitle need to say much cause he knows he's the fastest gun in town (and he's right), Ed B looking a little nervous at the torture device they call a seat on his KTM LC4 640 Six Day kept a straight face, and me Shorty who can't even reach the bar much less touch the ground on my 640 LC4e were off. Seven riders came and six riders went in search of DS adventure (the VTR wisely did not follow). The wind did blow cold as we left the city behind. Knobby clad twisty bound upredictable slides through the corners of Deer Creek and Foxton Canyons only served to whet the appetite of these outlaws. Breaking the rules WAS the rule as they passed the spot where one of the riders had an encounter with The Sheriff in a previous season. "Improper operation of a motor vehicle on a mountain highway" wasn't just a number in the Colorado Revised Statutes anymore, it was now and here! Down to the Platte and yet another canyon led them to Buffalo Creek a town spared by fire but not from this group. Riding through the barren wastelands of the great blaze didn't faze them one bit. For the ride had just begun and what lay ahead only Shorty knew. It was Shorty's dastardly doings that got this ride moving and none dared question his motives or destination. Past Wellington Lake named by-the-mayor for-the-mayor of Denver town left behind. Pursued by 5 wild horsemen Shorty made his way up the icey ruts of Stoney Pass, Molly's Gulch, and Mo's Stump. The ominous scenery of the Tarryall Range and Lost Creek slid by while Pikes Peak loomed large in the distance. Did these riders notice? Or were they fixated on ripping the dirt beneath their wheels, only God knows. Obvious was their delight at being free from the restraints of society left behind. The limitless road lie ahead. Rolling into Divide, shudders slammed, women and children ran from the streets and the place took on the air of a ghost town. Fuel was all they needed to continue their trek so the populace was spared any further agony. A podunk town without a pot to piss in the decision was made to head for the trees and the dreaded 717 trail system beyond. It was here that logic and reason shone on two of this assemblage causing them to reconsider their faith in Shorty and his ill guided tour. Departing on a more civilized path Blake the Bike, and Tortured Ed saw the light and were on their way home. The others unswervingly followed Shorty into the convoluted labyrinth of 717 and the unkown which lay ahead. It was too late when the others came to their senses and realized where they had been led... down the icey single track of no return. Studless, forlorn, cold and hungry there was nothing to do but continue hoping for a way out. It was not to be! The icy chute of a trail conspired against them. They were in a place that the sun had not seen in ages. A dark cold lonely place, where no 2 wheeled rider should be (especially one with bald dry rotted DS tires). Scraping their bars and their fates with the forces of nature the icey path seemed like it went on for an eternity. Only to emerge from the shadows and to be plunged back into the cold fingers of winter again. Into what seemed like the last, final, out of control slide into the next life. It was now Shorty's turn to pay-the-piper as he ate the bullet not once but twice in penance for where he had led them. The debt collected, the sacrifice made, Fate loosened its grip and traction was restored. It was time to let her rip again. And rip they did with every hooked up knob through that tangle of 717. Skimming the tops of the whoops the DRZ and KTM were impervious to the whimpers of the KLRs and their riders. This was not KLR territory, and only through sheer determination and skill did Fast Floyd and Buy-It-and Ride-It Mike emerge unscathed. Through WestCreek and beyond to the notorious Sprucewood where libations were had for all. A hang-out for the brethren, like minded souls abound at this watering hole. The cute french waitress who aimed to please wouldn't easily take NO for an answer, but was made to understand. We had to ride, and ride we did! Shorty

[Charles and Maria Thompson]

Charlie T. PS The Air Changing Post was a joke

[West Hovland]

It seems just insane to actually ride these things... I just sit on mine in the garage and make motor noises with my mouth. Safer that way... although one time my lips got chapped from that and I had to take a week off work. Great story Shorty! West ( Hardley poser) A15 "Grasshopper" Snip...

> The ride was on and 6 restless riders and > bikes were rarin to go. This was not a "Yahoo list post" but the real > McCoy.

Snip...

> Shorty