Ride Report #73
In a sharp departure from the last couple of months, this ride start time was moved to 9:00 am. I thought I got there first, but Mario was already there, devouring a sandwich. He showed me his lowered suspension, and it was also obvious that (early morning sandwich notwithstanding) he had been eating less and exercising more over the winter. This would prove to be, for the most part a winning combo for the day ahead.
Roger was, once again, confused to see me there when he arrived. Astride the VImoto's DR, he looked like a Shriner in a Canada Day parade.
Gord was the last one to arrive and joined the group, which by that time was forming an awed circle around Jason's high tech rally set up, an impressive array of screens of various sizes, creative wiring patterns and more than a few custom made aluminium bits. All that was missing were parabolic antennae.
And we were off for the famed reverse Bugaboo loop (which in spite of its name, is not a continental bedroom practice). This time we transited through Youbou and the north shore road, to Nitinatt and generally left from then on.
I remembered, too late, that I had deleted all my tracks history in a fit of rebellion against Big Brother. I did not think that was a problem as we were all under the protective gaze of Jason's all seeing, all knowing electronic eye. I was wrong.
Each fork in the road provoked a longer and longer pause as Jason's set up was providing us with increasingly nonsensical information. We stumbled our way, with many about turns, and relatively little drama, save for the loss of the front fender on Mario's KLR.
We soon came upon an unknown lake on our right, complete with very attractive campsites. No one knew which lake that was and all delighted in finding such an unknown gem...
Doubt then became overwhelming, and I had no choice but to actually look at my paper map!
It should be mentioned that this is the time when Jason's system decided to draw straight line on the digital map. I suggested that maybe he had, by mistake of course, put it on airplane mode... This was the first time, ever, we heard Jason swear in earnest, almost with no holding back. He cussed his nav system, which seemed warranted, and then, inexplicably, his bike. This was a mistake as the Husqvarna took, rightfully, umbrage. In typical Swedish fashion, it would wait to extract its quiet revenge. A French bike would have retaliated immediately.
The paper map was working fine and indicated clearly the extent of our navigational delusions. The lake we had "discovered" was McClure Lake by which we had ridden many times, coming from the east...
Jason chose, wisely, to turn off all systems except for the steam driven one and we were off again. We stopped on the "Bugaboo Main Square" feeling better as the way back was on familiar terrain.
Gord, Mario and Roger went first, I hung back waiting for Jason to start his bike. It was taking a while and I thought, for a terrifying second, that he was going down the rabbit hole of technology once again. He was not. The bike had just decided to strike back and had lost all power!
After the usual removal of various bits of body work, seat etc, to have a look a the battery proved fruitless, we pushed the recalcitrant machine up the steep hill in the hope of starting it solely on compression. We repeated the operation 4 times with zero success. 30 minutes had gone by at this point. We had our jackets off and were sweating profusely when the three horsemen finally made it back. Breaking every group ride procedures they could, Roger, Gord and Mario had carried on all the way down the Bugaboo spur to the Gordon Main without stopping and waiting for us. Guilt ridden, they were ready to do anything to help.
Having ascertained that Roger's jumper cables were safely stored in his garage, and that Mario's Power Pack was in his basement, it was decided to use heated vest cords, small wrenches and, surprisingly, a hand held bare metal key to attempt to jump start the Husqvarna.
This too failed.
Mario then produced a towing strap... We all tried to remember all these videos on bike to bike towing and the various techniques used. Unfortunately, none of these youtube gems covered our situation: Steep incline, loose rocks, too short of a towing line and total inexperience.
As the GSA rider I was automatically volunteered to play the tugboat. It did not go well. I failed to gain traction, stalled repeatedly... We pushed Jason's bike to the top of the hill and finally got traction and towing action...until the next steep hill. The whole thing stopped when Jason ended up under his bike in the ditch.
It was getting late, so Gord went ahead to make a few reassuring phone calls to loved ones.
Jason, beyond resignation, refused to even hide his bike in the bush, and decided to catch a ride back in town with me.
This made for an interesting hour and a bit, as Jason, like most riders, is a terrible passenger: initiating turns when he thought I should turn, exaggerating lean angles or inversely refusing to lean etc...
We made it back to Jason's place where he jumped off the bike before it was even stopped, obviously very relieved it was over.
Later that evening, after having fulfilled a pressing social obligation, Jason returned and fetched his bike and was home by 2:00 am.
Lesson learned: it is of no use to have the tools if one leaves them home.
Cheers,
Louis
PS It should be noted that Mario fell on the last ride down Bugaboo. It was by the book, with no injury to the rider, but with enough broken plastic bits to be legit. A bent handlebar was impressively reset with sheer muscle power by Roger. As we speak, Mario is busy rebuilding the bruised KLR Tangai, hopefully in time for Sunday's ride "return to Bamfield"!