This ride actually started on Friday night over drinks, at our local pub.
We were celebrating the end of an awesome riding season. So many dual-sport adventures! Jaunts and overnight rides all over the BC interior and the wet coast. Although Brendon wasn't there physically, he's sending messages to our group huddled around the drinking table all evening via WhatsApp: "Let's go riding tomorrow, guys!"
Anton checks the weather forecast on his smartphone and taps out: "80% chance of rain, tomorrow..."
"Means 20% chance it'll be nice!", Kelly says out loud.
We all LOL on cue at this oft-repeated joke, "OK!" and go home early, readying ourselves for a frigid morning meetup in the AM.
8 hours later, I wake up to two sounds. 1) My alarm, and 2) 100% rain hitting the window.
"Nope" I text the group. Everyone concurs and I pull back the covers over my head. Ah. So warm. And dry.
When I wake up again and check my messages, everyone has decided to re-launch the following day.
Which brings us here:
10AM.
5°C - WHAT ON EARTH ARE WE DOING HERE?!?!
Sky is dark overhead despite us gaining an hour due to end of Daylight Savings Time.
But it's dry. Which is all the excuse these idiots need to hop on motorcycles a month before the official start of winter...
We're all eager and early. Nobody has to wait for stragglers.
Checking out Brendon's new Android nav display. I want one!
Everytime we go riding, at least one of us has new toys to show and tempt each other. These rides are getting expensive!
Like Neve Campbell, we're a Party of Five today. Since it's Brendon's ride, he's leading us on his EXC 500, Kelly will be running sweep as usual on his 690, I'm slow-guy second-last, Paul is joining us as a last minute addition on the only non-KTM, his WR250, and Anton is big-bike guy on his 890. The last few rides, I've been big-bike guy with my 1250GS, but I've decided to bring the 500 since the route today looks a bit gnar.
The route map that Brendon sent us yesterday
We're going to be ascending Mount Hayman today. The motorcycle store where we met is merely a stones throw from Bartley Road, and we head north till the pavement turns to dirt and we pass by a staging area where a couple of pick-up trucks are unloading MX bikes and one SxS. This is a popular off-roading trail for the locals and there are quite a few other people in denial about the end of the riding season!
Glad we're on dual-sports, so we don't have to trailer!
Our route for the day is the Bartley Rd loop run counter-clockwise, which is the more difficult direction, because the first section goes immediately into a steep uphill climb on loose rock. No warm-up or anything, just point your front wheel to the sky and twist the throttle, while both your front and rear wheels go in opposite directions!
Anton is killing it on the 890
It feels like it's over a km of relentless uphill. My riding buddies are more skilled than I am and I find myself tiring part-way up the hill as they continue to power up. I pull over and Kelly stops beside me, "You Ok?"
"Yeah, just taking a breather. How much further up?"
"Ummm... We're not even half-way..."
OMG. My biceps are killing me because of my poor body positioning. I know I should be further up on the tank, but after a minute or so of good form, I end up sliding lazily towards the back of the bike and then it's Arm Pump City all over again! After that little break, I restart the bike and soldier on, focusing on humping the bejesus out of the tank like a dog in heat, as the front wheel skips over large rocks.
Another few hundred meters of climb and I see that Anton's stalled his big-bike on the hill ahead of me.
Thank god! I can relax!
I pull up beside him to catch my breath and try to convey concern for him between deep gasps for air. He's okay. But I'm not...
We both spin our rear wheels trying to get our bikes restarted on the steep, loose surface - big-bike-guy and low-skill-guy - and we scramble back upwards single file towards the summit.
A little bit more uphill struggle and we turn off on Macdougall Rim, still uphill, but less of an incline. Our target is to stop at the lookout over Lake Okanagan.
Beautiful view. We're at 1050m elevation here.
Lake Okanagan is 350m above sea level, so we've ridden about 600m of vertical climb since the beginning of the trail!
Although the scenery from up here is breath-taking, we all take a good long minute to survey the damage the recent forest fires have wreaked upon the landscape.
The foliage has quickly thinned the further north we venture up the mountain. This trail used to be totally socked in by dense green brush, but now we're surrounded by the charred skeletons of pines and firs, standing naked like hair follicles planted in the dark soil.
We're all locals. Just three months ago, each of us had our bug-out bags parked by the front door, packed with all the essentials: passports, toiletries, enough clothes and dried food for a few days to get to alternative shelter. All in the event we got the dreaded evacuation notice that wildfires were now at our doorstep.
We mournfully scan the blackened landscape on this side and the other side of the lake. Shared trauma.
Group pic at the overlook
"Are we at the top?" I ask.
Paul was just here last weekend. He shakes his head and I groan. He tells me, "At least the snow has melted. Now it's just all mud!"
Great.
We take our last pictures and gear up to continue our heaven-bound ride
We kept going up and up and up. Although the worst of the ascent was nearly over, with only 200m to go from the summit, my arms were burning with lactic acid and I had to stop the bike. No energy to keep it upright, I let it fall and just plopped down on my butt in the dirt beside it.
"Gene's down" I heard Kelly say on the intercom.
No. I didn't drop the bike. I'm just tired. I wanted to say all that out loud. But I was already lying down out of breath trying to get my helmet off.
That uphill climb completely drained me and I had 0 energy. I couldn't even sit up and the group gathered around, hovering over me like I was a traffic accident victim on the pavement.
I heard Kelly and Paul consult the map, they were trying to find an easy out. But we were half-way through the ride. Not distance wise, but difficulty wise. We were 200m from the summit and it was just as difficult making the shorter, steeper and looser descent down than it was taking the longer, less steep descent in the direction that we were headed in.
Tough titties, Gene.
I think I slept a little bit while they were deliberating. Paul came back with a Red Bull and poured it down my throat. "It's not milk, but this'll do your body good". I had loosened my kidney belt and felt a lot better, and I think that was constricting my air flow. But that Red Bull and a Cliff's Bar did help as well. I think I was on my back for 15 minutes, but it was enough of a rest to get me back on the bike and I scrambled up the last 200m without a problem.
The eyes say it all!
We stopped for just a little bit, and for everyone to come around and make sure I was okay. But with the kidney belt loosened, I felt 100% better. We're now at 1450m above sea level (we've literally climbed a km of vertical elevation!), and everyone was now starting to get cold because of the altitude. They wanted to give me more time, but I think it would have been worse if I got hypothermia PLUS fatigue, so we hop back on the bikes to get all of our circulation going again.
On the descent they stuck me closer to the front just to keep an eye on me. Aww, so nice...
I felt much better, like I had angels lifting me up. This is my Insta360 halo picture above...
For sure it was that tight kidney belt restricting my diagphram. With it loosened, I felt like I did at the beginning of the ride and everyone made "Red Bull gives him wings" jokes because it was uncanny what a difference that break made.
Near the summit, we did encounter some snow, but the recent melt had turned everything to paste instead
We made the slow descent down Mt Hayman. We were still sliding down on loose soil, but with less rocks beneath our wheels, it was a ton easier.
Stopped a couple more times (just to make sure I was okay), but I was flying, so we just continued to ride without stops
...all the while passing by the sad ghosts of trees which perished in the fire just a few short weeks ago.
When Paul rode up here last weekend, this whole area had just re-opened despite the fire being so long ago.
The way we came from
Somewhere in the Blackened Forest
Now that we're not climbing like monkeys on meth, I can stop a bit more often and take some pictures.
The forest fire has felled a few logs that haven't been cleared away by the post-fire clean-up crews
But because the foliage has all been burnt away, it's easy to find or make a new route around the downed trees. Not necessarily a positive thing though...
The Bartley Loops ends back at the staging area which we passed on the way up. I had a lot more fun going down than up... thanks to my loose girdle... I feel like I need to tackle that uphill climb again just to prove to myself that I wasn't that much of a wuss. But sadly, this might be one of our last rides of the season.
At the bottom Brendon asks the group, "Sooo.... next weekend?"
LOL! Everyone says ya.
Epilogue:
We spent an intense 3.5 hours going up and down Mt Hayman, so after all that, we were all starved and parched. We decided to hit the pub for the traditional post-ride pint and a bite to eat. That's also when we rib each other about the crashes and other pratfalls we had earlier on in the day. Oh man, was I going to get it good at lunch...
However, on the way there, Brendon pulls over on the side of the road...
Flat rear tire.
Thankfully it happened right at the very end of our ride, on the pavement in town as opposed to up in the gnar at the top of the mountain. No worries though. Everyone in this group carries tools and spares. That's just what we do here in the Interior...
With a steady stream of cars and trucks whizzing past us a few feet away, we just pumped up Brendon's tire enough to get us to the pub just a km away. His tire was completely flat again once we got there. We went in, had ourselves a nice leisurely lunch and figured out the tire problem on a full stomach in the parking lot:
I finally get a chance to use my trail stand!
Everyone oohs and aaahs and says "I gotta get me one of those". I told you: every time we ride, we just give each other more reasons to spend money...
Everyone's got tools, spare tubes, inflators, etc. The only problem is deciding whose tools to use. We get the tire off and check for leaks. Brendon's rim lock makes the process slightly more difficult.
That's unusual, no sharp objects in the carcass. But the tube has been rubbing against the inside of the tire and has worn down a hole
It's the stock KTM 1 mm tube which are notoriously thin. Can't even patch it, because there are other parts of the tube that are wearing as well, so we replaced it with a heavy duty aftermarket 4mm tube to get Brendon on his way.
Some of us are just better (and faster) at changing tubes... That would be Kelly
Fun day! Adventure all the way to the end!
I really hope the season isn't over...
We were celebrating the end of an awesome riding season. So many dual-sport adventures! Jaunts and overnight rides all over the BC interior and the wet coast. Although Brendon wasn't there physically, he's sending messages to our group huddled around the drinking table all evening via WhatsApp: "Let's go riding tomorrow, guys!"
Anton checks the weather forecast on his smartphone and taps out: "80% chance of rain, tomorrow..."
"Means 20% chance it'll be nice!", Kelly says out loud.
We all LOL on cue at this oft-repeated joke, "OK!" and go home early, readying ourselves for a frigid morning meetup in the AM.
8 hours later, I wake up to two sounds. 1) My alarm, and 2) 100% rain hitting the window.
"Nope" I text the group. Everyone concurs and I pull back the covers over my head. Ah. So warm. And dry.
When I wake up again and check my messages, everyone has decided to re-launch the following day.
Which brings us here:
10AM.
5°C - WHAT ON EARTH ARE WE DOING HERE?!?!
Sky is dark overhead despite us gaining an hour due to end of Daylight Savings Time.
But it's dry. Which is all the excuse these idiots need to hop on motorcycles a month before the official start of winter...
We're all eager and early. Nobody has to wait for stragglers.
Checking out Brendon's new Android nav display. I want one!
Everytime we go riding, at least one of us has new toys to show and tempt each other. These rides are getting expensive!
Like Neve Campbell, we're a Party of Five today. Since it's Brendon's ride, he's leading us on his EXC 500, Kelly will be running sweep as usual on his 690, I'm slow-guy second-last, Paul is joining us as a last minute addition on the only non-KTM, his WR250, and Anton is big-bike guy on his 890. The last few rides, I've been big-bike guy with my 1250GS, but I've decided to bring the 500 since the route today looks a bit gnar.
The route map that Brendon sent us yesterday
We're going to be ascending Mount Hayman today. The motorcycle store where we met is merely a stones throw from Bartley Road, and we head north till the pavement turns to dirt and we pass by a staging area where a couple of pick-up trucks are unloading MX bikes and one SxS. This is a popular off-roading trail for the locals and there are quite a few other people in denial about the end of the riding season!
Glad we're on dual-sports, so we don't have to trailer!
Our route for the day is the Bartley Rd loop run counter-clockwise, which is the more difficult direction, because the first section goes immediately into a steep uphill climb on loose rock. No warm-up or anything, just point your front wheel to the sky and twist the throttle, while both your front and rear wheels go in opposite directions!
Anton is killing it on the 890
It feels like it's over a km of relentless uphill. My riding buddies are more skilled than I am and I find myself tiring part-way up the hill as they continue to power up. I pull over and Kelly stops beside me, "You Ok?"
"Yeah, just taking a breather. How much further up?"
"Ummm... We're not even half-way..."
OMG. My biceps are killing me because of my poor body positioning. I know I should be further up on the tank, but after a minute or so of good form, I end up sliding lazily towards the back of the bike and then it's Arm Pump City all over again!
After that little break, I restart the bike and soldier on, focusing on humping the bejesus out of the tank like a dog in heat, as the front wheel skips over large rocks.Another few hundred meters of climb and I see that Anton's stalled his big-bike on the hill ahead of me.
Thank god! I can relax!
I pull up beside him to catch my breath and try to convey concern for him between deep gasps for air. He's okay. But I'm not...
We both spin our rear wheels trying to get our bikes restarted on the steep, loose surface - big-bike-guy and low-skill-guy - and we scramble back upwards single file towards the summit.
A little bit more uphill struggle and we turn off on Macdougall Rim, still uphill, but less of an incline. Our target is to stop at the lookout over Lake Okanagan.
Beautiful view. We're at 1050m elevation here.
Lake Okanagan is 350m above sea level, so we've ridden about 600m of vertical climb since the beginning of the trail!
Although the scenery from up here is breath-taking, we all take a good long minute to survey the damage the recent forest fires have wreaked upon the landscape.
The foliage has quickly thinned the further north we venture up the mountain. This trail used to be totally socked in by dense green brush, but now we're surrounded by the charred skeletons of pines and firs, standing naked like hair follicles planted in the dark soil.
We're all locals. Just three months ago, each of us had our bug-out bags parked by the front door, packed with all the essentials: passports, toiletries, enough clothes and dried food for a few days to get to alternative shelter. All in the event we got the dreaded evacuation notice that wildfires were now at our doorstep.
We mournfully scan the blackened landscape on this side and the other side of the lake. Shared trauma.
Group pic at the overlook
"Are we at the top?" I ask.
Paul was just here last weekend. He shakes his head and I groan. He tells me, "At least the snow has melted. Now it's just all mud!"
Great.
We take our last pictures and gear up to continue our heaven-bound ride
We kept going up and up and up. Although the worst of the ascent was nearly over, with only 200m to go from the summit, my arms were burning with lactic acid and I had to stop the bike. No energy to keep it upright, I let it fall and just plopped down on my butt in the dirt beside it.
"Gene's down" I heard Kelly say on the intercom.
No. I didn't drop the bike. I'm just tired. I wanted to say all that out loud. But I was already lying down out of breath trying to get my helmet off.
That uphill climb completely drained me and I had 0 energy. I couldn't even sit up and the group gathered around, hovering over me like I was a traffic accident victim on the pavement.
I heard Kelly and Paul consult the map, they were trying to find an easy out. But we were half-way through the ride. Not distance wise, but difficulty wise. We were 200m from the summit and it was just as difficult making the shorter, steeper and looser descent down than it was taking the longer, less steep descent in the direction that we were headed in.
Tough titties, Gene.
I think I slept a little bit while they were deliberating. Paul came back with a Red Bull and poured it down my throat. "It's not milk, but this'll do your body good". I had loosened my kidney belt and felt a lot better, and I think that was constricting my air flow. But that Red Bull and a Cliff's Bar did help as well. I think I was on my back for 15 minutes, but it was enough of a rest to get me back on the bike and I scrambled up the last 200m without a problem.
The eyes say it all!
We stopped for just a little bit, and for everyone to come around and make sure I was okay. But with the kidney belt loosened, I felt 100% better. We're now at 1450m above sea level (we've literally climbed a km of vertical elevation!), and everyone was now starting to get cold because of the altitude. They wanted to give me more time, but I think it would have been worse if I got hypothermia PLUS fatigue, so we hop back on the bikes to get all of our circulation going again.
On the descent they stuck me closer to the front just to keep an eye on me. Aww, so nice...
I felt much better, like I had angels lifting me up. This is my Insta360 halo picture above...
For sure it was that tight kidney belt restricting my diagphram. With it loosened, I felt like I did at the beginning of the ride and everyone made "Red Bull gives him wings" jokes because it was uncanny what a difference that break made.
Near the summit, we did encounter some snow, but the recent melt had turned everything to paste instead
We made the slow descent down Mt Hayman. We were still sliding down on loose soil, but with less rocks beneath our wheels, it was a ton easier.
Stopped a couple more times (just to make sure I was okay), but I was flying, so we just continued to ride without stops
...all the while passing by the sad ghosts of trees which perished in the fire just a few short weeks ago.
When Paul rode up here last weekend, this whole area had just re-opened despite the fire being so long ago.
The way we came from
Somewhere in the Blackened Forest
Now that we're not climbing like monkeys on meth, I can stop a bit more often and take some pictures.
The forest fire has felled a few logs that haven't been cleared away by the post-fire clean-up crews
But because the foliage has all been burnt away, it's easy to find or make a new route around the downed trees. Not necessarily a positive thing though...
The Bartley Loops ends back at the staging area which we passed on the way up. I had a lot more fun going down than up... thanks to my loose girdle... I feel like I need to tackle that uphill climb again just to prove to myself that I wasn't that much of a wuss. But sadly, this might be one of our last rides of the season.
At the bottom Brendon asks the group, "Sooo.... next weekend?"
LOL! Everyone says ya.
Epilogue:
We spent an intense 3.5 hours going up and down Mt Hayman, so after all that, we were all starved and parched. We decided to hit the pub for the traditional post-ride pint and a bite to eat. That's also when we rib each other about the crashes and other pratfalls we had earlier on in the day. Oh man, was I going to get it good at lunch...
However, on the way there, Brendon pulls over on the side of the road...
Flat rear tire.
Thankfully it happened right at the very end of our ride, on the pavement in town as opposed to up in the gnar at the top of the mountain. No worries though. Everyone in this group carries tools and spares. That's just what we do here in the Interior...
With a steady stream of cars and trucks whizzing past us a few feet away, we just pumped up Brendon's tire enough to get us to the pub just a km away. His tire was completely flat again once we got there. We went in, had ourselves a nice leisurely lunch and figured out the tire problem on a full stomach in the parking lot:
I finally get a chance to use my trail stand!
Everyone oohs and aaahs and says "I gotta get me one of those". I told you: every time we ride, we just give each other more reasons to spend money...
Everyone's got tools, spare tubes, inflators, etc. The only problem is deciding whose tools to use. We get the tire off and check for leaks. Brendon's rim lock makes the process slightly more difficult.
That's unusual, no sharp objects in the carcass. But the tube has been rubbing against the inside of the tire and has worn down a hole
It's the stock KTM 1 mm tube which are notoriously thin. Can't even patch it, because there are other parts of the tube that are wearing as well, so we replaced it with a heavy duty aftermarket 4mm tube to get Brendon on his way.
Some of us are just better (and faster) at changing tubes... That would be Kelly
Fun day! Adventure all the way to the end!
I really hope the season isn't over...
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