The Long Way to the Central Rally

[FJ1100mjk]

Thanks Noel. It's been an awesome trip so far, and gets better with each day.

I am currently getting ready for a 200 mile day, that will take me down to the Rally's home base. I am riding a route recommended by local riders, so I know that I am in for a great ride.

[FJ1100mjk]

Made it to Ouray, after another great riding day.

Kicking back on the porch of a downtown eatery called Maggie's, and people watching.

[Firehawk068]

Awesome stuff Marty!
See you tomorrow afternoon...........

[FJ1100mjk]

Here at the resort!



Alan: It may be later, early evening, when I see you. I'm going for a day hike up in the surrounding mountains. I'll PM you my phone number. Send me yours, if you see this.

[FJ1100mjk]

With approximately 2,540 miles passed on the odometer, since leaving home and arriving in Ouray for the Central Rally, I decided to take a break from riding, and do a little hiking above town. It was a 4.1 mile, destination hike to an abandoned mine, called Chief Ouray Mine. Elevation gain was around 1,942 feet, with the mine at about 10,000 feet above sea level. I started at around 8,000 feet above sea level, from the trailhead at the camp that I was at last night.

Trail was pretty strenuous, with many switchbacks, and the trail itself looking like a mountain goat path. Sometimes the trail was 18 inches wide,with a 70 degree or so slope off to its side, or worse. My smooth-soled Keen sandles didn't instill much confidence on the marbley (or snow bank) trail surface either!

See the speck of a gray building up near the ridge directly above the top of the falls? That is the mine from main street in downtown Ouray.



Shot of the mountain goat / hiking trail:



The destination. Old abandoned mine and its buildings. One on the left, the other, partially obscured by the trees on the right.



Part of the hike brought me to a double waterfall, that had a soft snow bank, that was across its path, that needed to be traversed, to continue to the mine. Very hairy. One slip,and into the rushing stream,that carried you over the falls an 100 plus feet to death. Again, the Keen sandles sucked. I jammed my heels into the snow oneat a time to cross (twice), and did my best rendition of a crab, as I clung to the snow as I hugged it while crossing. Whew!



The waterfalls themselves, were pretty spectacular too.



Okay, across the falls, now onto the buildings. More mountain goat trail action. A shot of the first building before the waterfalls crossing.



I walked into the doorway of the first building, and it still had remnants of days gone by. An old cast iron stove, and old, rusted, set of bed springs. There was also much defacing done, in the form of graffiti from curious thrill seekers, who etched there names (and other) and dates. Earliest date that I saw was 1967.





I exited the first building, and continued the half mile of very narrow trail, and got to within 25 feet of the second building, and was stymied by the trail becoming very dangerous/washed out. One slip,and it was off the side of the mountain, and hundreds of feet, to certain, not so pleasant death. Self preservation took hold, and I said naw,it ain't worth it. So, I backed out.

Rain looked a sure bet. More reason, to head back down.



Coming back to the exit side of the first old building. One last look at the graffiti, before white-knuckling it across the snow bank over the waterfalls.



Some good scenery on the way down too.



It never did rain all that much, which was a surprise. It helped cool things off, for the hike down. A sharp contrast to the hot sun during the ascent. When I got back safe and sound, the rain came down lightly, and the temperature dropped, and it got chilly. Spent the rest of the day downtown, picking up some postcards, and writing them up, and sending them on their ways.

Sun's back out. Time to throw a leg over the FJ, and go downtown for some dinner.

Back to (possibly) some riding tomorrow. Another cabin inhabitant will be coming in by dark.

[BSI]

I've really enjoyed your pics and trip postings Marty....great job and thanks! 

[Klavdy]

What a cool photo story , matey!
Thanks for sharing.

[Firehawk068]

Awesome Marty! 
See you later today.

[racerrad8]

As posted by FJ1100mjk and moved to proper topic

What started out as another fine day of riding, turned into a crappy day, when the upper pull-side throttle cable's end, snapped off inside the throttle housing. I was riding DUCATI DAVES 1993 Yamaha GTS, and he was on my bike, I was in the lead, and keeping an eye on him in my mirrors, when he played a disappearing act. I waited for him to catch up, but he never showed, so I turned around and went back in his direction, and found him with the broken cable.

We were able to switch the push-side upper cable to the pull-side's spot, and I considered myself lucky, to be once again mobile, but it was short-lived. No sooner (hundreds of feet), than we started back, the bike stutters and dies, like it was starving for fuel. Figuring that when the fuel tank was removed and installed in haste, that something like the vacuum line to the petcock was not installed correctly, and had fallen off, or something. Off came the seat, side panels, and fuel tank. Everything looked kosher, and we put it all back together again, took off, and it did the same thing a mile or so down the road. This time, everything came off again to get at the fuel line and vacuum line again, so that we could really verify that all was correct under the tank. The fuel tank cap was even disassembled, and its vent function confirmed to be working well (even after being pretty certain that it was okay - no hissing sound when opened). After everything was reassembled, the back started, and ran okay. Feeling good about everything, we suited up, and down the road we went.

The bike ran just fine, and we traveled back towards the resort. After about 22 miles, the bike starts doing its stutter, and dying routine again while doing 70-75 MPH. I find a convenient location to coast into, and we go through, the all-too familiar routine (but no removal of the tank's fuel line, as the petcock, continues to spew fuel onto the hot bike when it is removed. Grrr!). The scenario, played itself out a couple/few more times, each time with less mileage in between spells, before the towel was thrown in, and I doubled up with Dave on his bike, and we rode the 35 miles back to the resort, leaving the beloved FJ1100, stranded in a chocolate manufacturer's sweet-smelling, parking lot.

When we got back to the resort, many FJ riders had arrived at the resort. I reported my bike's woes, and Alan, quickly, and unselfishly, stepped forward, and offered his services of his Jeep and attached trailer, to go fetch the FJ1100. Like so many people that I have met through FJ ownership, and this forum, their kindness and knowledge have come to the rescue for me.

Long (and if you have hung in this far, my hat is off to you) story short, the bike is back here at the resort, and the seemingly problem with the bike's fuel delivery will be addressed and fixed soon, so that I can get back to riding. A new cable is on its way from RPM Racing, and is due to arrive tomorrow, and that area will be addressed then, or Friday. Just can't fathom how the tank's simple removal and install to fix replace the throttle cable, could turn the day into such a shit show, and confound all the on-road attempts to straighten it out. The positives are the great people here at the Rally, and the bike is back in the midst of capable mechanics, and it will be fixed to ride again.

[FJ1100mjk]

Figured that now home safely, I'll close out this trip report.

A 4,818 mile trip that included some of the best riding and scenery from the saddle, that I've experienced to date. And with the bonus of capping it off with my attendance at the FJ Rally.

Setbacks were few, with the exception of the aforementioned kinked fuel line, that stranded the bike 38 miles north of the Rally's headquarters, and the sticking starter button. The only other mishap was striking a rock (never actually saw it either, but sure felt it), and dinging the front rim. The latter didn't leave me stranded, and I still rode the 1,500 miles home on it, but it caused some vibration at certain speeds. Most noticeable at 85 MPH, and higher, which I stayed away from for the most part.



Before closing, I would like to thank the members of the FJ community that helped me at times, and it was a pleasure to meet others again, and those that I met for the first time too. One of those that I met for the first time was DUCATI GTS DAVE, who I shared a cabin with, and who is quite good at fixing things in unorthodox ways. He whipped up a good fix of the broken throttle cable, that awed a few Rally attendees, myself included. Here's a pic of him...



The whole trip was a great life experience for me, and I am thankful to be back home safe and sound. Would I do it again? You bet!