Post by cdaxena on Dec 17, 2003 2:07:20 GMT -5
I said I would tell my "hand warming on muffler" story. So here it is. 
Back in the Spring of 1994, I experienced the worst most miserable ride I ever went on.
It was my first real trail ride with a group. I never even heard of such a thing before. 
I was a beginning rider riding an XR200R with only one season under my belt, essentially a road rider, when a group of hardcore riders decided to initiate me into trail riding. It was the ride of my life.
Back then few women rode dirt bikes and fewer on trails. I didn't know it at the time, but they meant to discourage me from getting interested in trail riding.
You see it was totally a guy thing back then. I didn't know that at the time. All I knew was that it was a real kick to ride my new bike. 
It was on a Memorial Day weekend when the guys took me on my first trail ride. It was the Independence Creek ride in the Coeur d'Alene mountains. Everyone that rides trail around here knows that the Independence Creek trail is nothing but creek crossings. Someone once told me there are 44 crossings on Independence. Everyone also knows that the weather is icky
more often than not in the Coeur d'Alene mountains on Memorial Day weekend. This weekend was no exception. It was so cold that day.
After fifteen miles of road riding, we were at the top of the mountain. During the ride to the top, weather set in and it started to snow. There was a quick debate among the guys. They decide to continue on the ride. After all, we just traveled fifteen miles to get there.
We took off riding on a jeep trail. I can remember riding along picking up speed, starting to feel a little confident on this road when it suddenly made an abrupt end turning to the left as I recall. It suddenly became a skinny little single track off of an edge of a cliff a million miles high.
Jeez! I slammed on the brakes just in time. Whoa! Now, they tell me I have to go down the side of this thing. No friggin' way I said. But I had too there was no turning back. By the time I got to the bottom, the guys where already miles ahead.
Remember I said it started snowing, well it continued. Here I was on the side of this mountain on a skinny little trail with so much snow that I no longer could see the tracks from the guys' bikes ahead of me. I want you to know while I was there all alone - it not only snowed, but it rained, haled, thundered, lighteninged and the wind blew down trees around me too. I was in tears;
I was so scared. I was thinking that I must be crazy to be doing this. Little did I know my adventure had only begun.
By the time we made a big loop back up over a mountain, we finally got back down to Independence Creek. Then we had to cross it not once, not twice - well you get the idea. I am leaving some of the story out here. I will leave out the part where they are yelling at me and dragging my bike in the dirt when trying to tow and start it.
In the spring, the creek runs high so it was deep. I never made it across any of the water crossing without having trouble. The last one did me in.
I took off into the water. The guys on the other side were yelling and waving their arms at me. I didn't know what they were saying so I proceeded to cross the creek. My bike and I suddenly went totally under water.
I don't remember to much about how they got me and my bike out of the creek, but I remember standing there freezing with snow all around me while everyone has my bike upside down trying to get the water out, and trying to dry out the spark plug. The guys had it all torn a part trying to dry it out. It took a long time to get my bike running.
By the time we got out of Independence, back up the cliff and on top of the mountain, it was dark. We had to ride freezing wet in the dark for fifteen miles. We stopped often to warm our hands on our mufflers.
When we got back to camp everyone was asking, "Where have you guys been"? "We have been worrying about you." I didn't say a word. I just went straight to my camper, peeled of the cold wet gear and went straight to bed. I didn't ride the not day except on roads around camp. You know, I don't think the guys had a good time either.
They didn't discourage me though, I am still here.
One old-timer told me once, "Got to say one thing for ya, Esther." "You've got determination"! I said, "Oh, is that what you call it."
Back in the Spring of 1994, I experienced the worst most miserable ride I ever went on.
It was my first real trail ride with a group. I never even heard of such a thing before. 
I was a beginning rider riding an XR200R with only one season under my belt, essentially a road rider, when a group of hardcore riders decided to initiate me into trail riding. It was the ride of my life.
Back then few women rode dirt bikes and fewer on trails. I didn't know it at the time, but they meant to discourage me from getting interested in trail riding.
You see it was totally a guy thing back then. I didn't know that at the time. All I knew was that it was a real kick to ride my new bike. 
It was on a Memorial Day weekend when the guys took me on my first trail ride. It was the Independence Creek ride in the Coeur d'Alene mountains. Everyone that rides trail around here knows that the Independence Creek trail is nothing but creek crossings. Someone once told me there are 44 crossings on Independence. Everyone also knows that the weather is icky
more often than not in the Coeur d'Alene mountains on Memorial Day weekend. This weekend was no exception. It was so cold that day. After fifteen miles of road riding, we were at the top of the mountain. During the ride to the top, weather set in and it started to snow. There was a quick debate among the guys. They decide to continue on the ride. After all, we just traveled fifteen miles to get there.
We took off riding on a jeep trail. I can remember riding along picking up speed, starting to feel a little confident on this road when it suddenly made an abrupt end turning to the left as I recall. It suddenly became a skinny little single track off of an edge of a cliff a million miles high.
Jeez! I slammed on the brakes just in time. Whoa! Now, they tell me I have to go down the side of this thing. No friggin' way I said. But I had too there was no turning back. By the time I got to the bottom, the guys where already miles ahead. Remember I said it started snowing, well it continued. Here I was on the side of this mountain on a skinny little trail with so much snow that I no longer could see the tracks from the guys' bikes ahead of me. I want you to know while I was there all alone - it not only snowed, but it rained, haled, thundered, lighteninged and the wind blew down trees around me too. I was in tears;
I was so scared. I was thinking that I must be crazy to be doing this. Little did I know my adventure had only begun. By the time we made a big loop back up over a mountain, we finally got back down to Independence Creek. Then we had to cross it not once, not twice - well you get the idea. I am leaving some of the story out here. I will leave out the part where they are yelling at me
and dragging my bike in the dirt when trying to tow and start it. In the spring, the creek runs high so it was deep. I never made it across any of the water crossing without having trouble. The last one did me in.
I took off into the water. The guys on the other side were yelling and waving their arms at me. I didn't know what they were saying so I proceeded to cross the creek. My bike and I suddenly went totally under water.
I don't remember to much about how they got me and my bike out of the creek, but I remember standing there freezing with snow all around me while everyone has my bike upside down trying to get the water out, and trying to dry out the spark plug.
The guys had it all torn a part trying to dry it out. It took a long time to get my bike running. By the time we got out of Independence, back up the cliff and on top of the mountain, it was dark. We had to ride freezing wet in the dark for fifteen miles. We stopped often to warm our hands on our mufflers.
When we got back to camp everyone was asking, "Where have you guys been"? "We have been worrying about you." I didn't say a word. I just went straight to my camper, peeled of the cold wet gear and went straight to bed. I didn't ride the not day except on roads around camp. You know, I don't think the guys had a good time either.
They didn't discourage me though, I am still here.
One old-timer told me once, "Got to say one thing for ya, Esther." "You've got determination"! I said, "Oh, is that what you call it." 
