Dirtbag camped behind the bike shop. Awakened by trade people showing up to work.
Crawled out of bed, did exercises, stowed things, and drove towards Pine, looking for a place to fix Bfast.
Tried to find grease gun needle jet to lube Turner bushings. Car parts use a different thread setup so no luck. Concerned that long needle was not sealing tight to grease zerks to force grease into bushings. Must find a bike shop.
Found Buffalo Creek Work station and a trail head. New parking area away from station.
Headed out on rd 543 which turns out to be gated a short ways in which keeps motorized traffic out. All trails appear to be free of dirt bike damage.
Surface is broken down granite all the way to sand size. Old forest fire denuded hills to South of road. Mixed P-pine, a fir, lodgepole, & Doug fir. Very dry. No organic material to bind sand together. Quite a few patches of sand. Big travel bike is way overkill. Trails just flow, hardly a rock and just a few roots.
Up South Shinglehill trail then down Morrison Creek to road, ride the road to Gashouse Gulch climb going North, right on Miller’s Gulch which is a double track. Then the beauty: Sandy Wash descent to road.
Bit of slickrock:
17 miles and another 2000′ day but elevations 6200′ to 8200′
Encountered several groups of riders.
Got water at Work Station & drove S looking for road 550 for dirtbag campsite. Found one. Forest is way dry because of granite. Set up camp. Worked on bike. Set cleats on new Specialized shoes that I had been avoiding the effort.
Painful fuck up: Those that have seen my van saw my cutting board that raises up level with galley but it blocks a good bit of doorway. I stoodup to enter van and smacked my head into the hinge underneath the board. Big gash on my head, probably should have had it stitched, needing maybe 6 to 8 but it clotted very quickly. I’ll just have a big flap of skin scar on my bald spot. Bit of a headache.
Took a Coleman shower. 2 guys with all the camping toys encroached on my spot. They are the forerunners for the forthcoming familes tomorrow. No solitude.
Internet coverage way out here in toolies.
Listening to Old jazz standards on XM radio, Frank Sinatra is fine.