thank you all
i do try
anyne get into stuf like THIS ???
dan
Oh yeah.
I did some adventure riding on my Valkyrie.
Then on my ST1300.
So I bought a KLR650.
Written by Jim Baker aka Coot.
Cherohala Wilderness Adventure
A Motorcycle Tale by Jim Baker back in late 2005.
Sunday, Britman and I met at KC’s Corner Café in Fairmount, GA for a ride to The Cherohala Skyway. We avoided the arrow-straight US 411 and crisscrossed it north to US 64 where we encountered a roadblock near Greasy Creek. The weather hadforecasted balmy weather, but my temp gauge reported 37 degrees.
We detoured up TN 314 to TN 30 and Reliance. From there we went up TN 315 and 39 to Tellico Plains. Over lunch, we decided to go to Bald River Falls, six miles off The Cherohala. Many of us have been to the falls, but few of us have been beyond.
Britman and I ventured beyond and enjoyed ten more miles of paved road, beautiful river vistas all the way........perfect for a club ride.
At the end of the paved section, we turned around and headed back. About five miles back, Britman suggested we try a road that he and his wife, Terri, had driven in their SUV. I said, “I’m game” and off we went. That ain’t exactly what I said, but this is a public forum.
Well now, this is a dirt Forest Service road that runs twelve miles up to The Cherohala. The elevation at the point of origin is about 1,600 feet, climbing to 4,300 feet at the intersection with the Cherohala.
The first five miles or so were uneventful with firm, packed ruts to follow. Then it got interesting as the ascent began. The Forest Service had placed fresh gravel at frequent intervals. These stones were fist-sized. It was like riding The Dragon on pool balls. At mile 11.5, my sport bike front tire just buried itself in the large, loose rocks. I struggled on and finally made it through. My heart was pounding and my sphincter was squeezing. Britman had made it through ahead of me and was awaiting my arrival. So, at mile 11.5, we decided to get our breath. My GPS showed that we were just a half a mile away from The Cherohala and paved road. Going back down through the large gravel was not an option. Up traction......down fraction.
Just then, we heard the thump of a Dual Sport coming down the hill. He stopped, swung off and announced himself as “Blue”. A rugged native of the mountains on a Honda 650 Thumper with what looked like a welded-on lawn mower seat...........this was a Rider. Sported Dockers on his big-old feet. Sport-tourer jacket and leather chaps. Said he liked to get out and ride when iťs sunny. Said he had to violate the road blocks. Our hearts sank.......had we gone through all of this to reach a road block? Blue said, “No, that was way back yonder at Joyce Kilmer Forest, I just rode around it.” Whew!!!
It would be nice to have Blue as a member of the club, but I’ve got a feeling that Blue ain’t gonna be a “member of nothin’..........ride on, Blue. Blue thought we were crazy. He kept on looking at our bikes and asking, “Came all the way up from Bald River, didya”? You know, Blue was probably right, but it was a most glorious day. Iťs like life.......you fall down, you get up. My GPS indicated we had a half-mile to go, so we asked Blue what was ahead. Blue said the last stretch was awful rough...........It was.
We made it and high fived each other as we reached pavement once again. We caught our breath and grooved The Cherohala sweepers on back to Tellico Plains. We grinned, shook hands.
Britman motored off to Roswell and I home to Rocky Face.
