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Fear And Loathing on The Way To Red River (or, My Tales from the Red River Rally)
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TheCafeKid
I awoke Saturday morning well before the sun had come up. This was not because I was eager to do so, nor because anyone had woken me up, but because my feet now felt like two blocks of ice. I couldnt feel them anymore. I attempted for a while to get them warm again to go back to sleep, but eventually, I gave up and got out of bed to go out to the deck where I was pretty sure it would be MUCH warmer than it was inside the cabin. A few of the guys were already up, and coffee was hot. I poured myself a cup, and BSed, albeit half awake, with Victor and Jim. We watched the sun break over the gorge line, and I DID get a couple snaps of this, it was unspeakably gorgeous.
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TheCafeKid
Mike and Vic set out on an early run, much earlier than the rest of us were ready for. They had apparently had LOTS of coffee...lol. They were gone from about 7am till about 9, and just about the time the rest of us had our gear on, and the bikes warmed up, they returned, ready to go some more. I had heard earlier both they and Adam mention a road called 2016, so I had broken out the KY atlas, and started plotting a route starting with that road, and heading 60 or so miles south, before coming around, heading back toward our location, and then another 60 or so mile loop north, before returning to the cabin. Everyone seemed to agree that the route looked pretty damn good, and when we stopped by to pick up Cole from Cabin 2, I showed it to Adam. He seemed to dig it too, and wrote it down so Group 2 (the fast guys) could take that one as well.
We gassed up at the Marathon station a bit up the road from the cabin, and it was off to 2016, with Mike in the lead, Chris behind him, Victor, Cole, myself and Jim playin sweeper.
2016 has to be one of the more fantastic roads in Kentucky to ride, and just in that area we found PLEANTY. So many so, that I doubt we'll ride them all in the next 2 or 3 Red River Rallys (there will be more, right guys?? LOL) It was a one and a half laner, with no marking, but the pavement was pretty damn fresh, and traffic was light, if any at all. We were going at a pretty good clip, not horendously fast, as both Chris and Cole didnt have a whole lot of riding time under them, and Mike didnt want anyone to feel pressured to go faster than they were comfortable. He did a FINE job leading, and the pace was comfortable for everyone, and enjoyable to even the ones that may have wanted to go a bit faster. But none of us really knew these roads, so safety first.
The only rough part of that particular road was at one point we came around a pretty blind curve, to have a dog run out into the road and acaust some of us. Cole almost hit it, and then after it dodged him, he turned toward me. I had pleanty of time to slow, but he came right after me. I stuck my leg out, if it got close enough, it was getting booted. Luckily, he backed off and let the rest of us pass. We picked up speed again and shortly thereafter, the sign came from up front that there was a hazard in the road. I saw the signal, and immediately after, saw the hazzard. A greater than 90 degree turn was coming up, and gravel was strewn all the way across the road. I slowed and tried in vain to pick a line thru it. It was inevitable that I was going to have to run thru some of it, so I tried to pick the path of least resistance. I swung out wide in the turn, thinking that I had cleared the lot of it, only to have my front wheel step out, and then when i corrected it, the rear wheel stepped out behind it. It made for a puckering experience, but I regained controll. After all, it was that, or the grassy field on the other side of the road about 10 feet down. That was about the only real scare that I had all weekend, and it was pretty minimal. Of course, when you're on the bike, the wheel stepping out a 1/4 inch feels like a foot, and likely, thats all it was. We pressed on, hitting a few other roads that were similar to 2016, meandering thru hazy valleys surrounded on both sides by tree covered ridges. This part of the ride reminded me much of West Virginia. It was beautiful and we were running at a pretty good clip. We stopped for a butt break and a cool drink just as we turned back North. Everyone was enjoying themselves immensely, and this was all that I could have hoped for. I had had worries that some of the more seasoned rally guys would not have found this place enjoyable, esspecially after Jim, Mike and myself had found very little on our one day scouting expedition early on in the spring as far as good roads went. But Mike scoring that KY road atlas when we were at Natural bridge a couple weekends before was a stroke of genius. It showed ANY road that was paved. Four number roads, Invisible roads, as Grandpa likes to call them. My other worry was of somone getting hurt. There are pleanty of roads throughout the rallys that could get someone hurt, but MOST of the roads down here, if you miss, you WILL die. A 30 foot ravine on one side of the road, if not both, was par for the course on most of them. Hell, the road back to the cabins was trecherous enough! But everyone here were experienced riders, and most importantly everyone here knew thier limitations, and that eased my mind quite a bit. We jumped back on the bikes, and headed up 399 to the North...the fun, and an impossibly frustrating day for me, had really just begun...
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TurboChris
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seuadr
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TurboChris
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n1elkyfan
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TheCafeKid
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Craiger
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seuadr
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TheCafeKid
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dwvoss
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