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Randy and Selden's Excellent Adventure (long)


Selden

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I hit the road @ 8:30 Tuesday morning, took the shortest fire road to Camp Wahsega (4-H) then to (Camp Merrill (U.S. Army Rangers), then over the mountain to Cooper Gap road, and into Suches. After stopping for a drink of water at Two Wheels of Suches, I decided to take Flatland Road left off 180 to Cooper Creek Road, back to 180, and enjoy a nice paved ride home.

 

Fa.png

 

Unbeknownst to me, Flatland Road is anything but, and has been torn up by jeeps and other 4-wheel drive vehicles. Something not shown on my local map.

 

After hitting ~15 mud holes, and falling over in one, breaking the clutch lever (fortunately, at the pivot, so I could still use it, I was walking the bike up a steep rough section when I stopped to catch my breath. Went to put down the sidestand, and my foot slipped in the mud, with the bike going over to the left again — wheels higher than the gas tank. I managed to reorient it to get the gas tank higher than the wheels, but I did not have enough strength left to pull it upright. I figured I was near the intersection of FS637 (aka Flatlands) and FS33, so I hiked out, but when I got to the T where the track (doesn't deserve to be called a road) I was on ended, I found myself on a fire road that eventually turned into Suches Creek Lane, which is a few miles south of Cooper Creek, not at all where I had thought I was.

 

 

hQ.png

 

 

I knocked on the doors of the first 2 houses that I came to, but nobody was home other than the dogs. A quarter mile further, and I was at the highway, where I flagged down a pickup truck being driven by an elderly couple on their way to the dump. After walking for ~1 hour, I was delighted to ride in the back of the truck with a dozen or so bags of garbage.

 

My cell phone has no reception up there, so I borrowed the phone at the local gas station and called Pam for rescue, then bought an ice cream sandwich and a liter jug of Powerade, and walked over to TWoS to wait on the porch until Pam arrived.

 

When she did, we returned to the scene of the crime, parking the car at the end of Suches Creek Ln, which was as far as was prudent to go on 4 wheels. We then set off on foot to retrieve my jacket and helmet and, if possible, to get the XT upgright and off the road. The road that I had ridden had previously been traversed by a dirt bike with full knobbies, so I said to just follow the knobbie tire tracks. After a fairly pleasant walk through the forest for 70 minutes, I saw a clearing ahead, and said I thought that it was where I left my helmet and jacket. As we got closer, I saw a car, a silver car with red stripes on the antenna fin — our very own HR-V. Somehow we had walked in a circle.

 

At that point, with the skies clouding up, a retreat seemed the best action. In the meantime, I had to find someone, preferably someone with a dirt bike, willing to ride in and help me right the XT. Since I had the key and registration, I wasn't worried that it was going anywhere.

 

After returning home and showering off the mud, I e-mailed Randy that I had a proposition for him. As you may recall, Randy's truck (with 24 foot trailer containing his BMW 450X dirt bike) died at the UnRally, and I had already volunteered to drive him back to Fontana Village when it is fixed (as of Tuesday, still waiting for parts).

 

A few minutes later, Randy phoned and said, "I'm on my way." I tried to talk him out of it, but he insisted that he could be in Suches by 7:00, we could find the bike, pick it up, and either leave it by the side of the road, or ride it out.

 

Pam and I rushed to Dahlonega for a quick dinner, then up to Suches, where I showed her Flatland Road, the back to wait for Randy on the porch at TWoS. By 7:30 we were starting to discuss returning if Randy didn't show up by 8:00, as darkness would set in by 9:30.

 

Randy pulled in shortly thereafter, driving a Honda Odyssey minivan. 1) He had skimmed my e-mail on a cell phone, overlooking most of my story; 2) I had forgotten the 450X was in North Carolina. I told him there was no way in hell that an Odyssey cold navigate the road ahead. He said, "OK, then we'll walk in."

 

Randy was not to be dissuaded, so off we went, parking the Odyssey about a quarter mile past the end of the pavement, just before the first big mudhole (where, if I had any sense at all, I should have turned around that morning). As we walked up the increasingly rutted road, he realized why I had said it was impassable for anything but a rock crawling off road vehicle or a motorcycle.

 

After a while, we got to a section that was so terrible that neither of us could believe that I had ridden it, even if I had been on a trials bike. Half an hour later, I said the reason I couldn't believe I had ridden that section was because I hadn't. We were lost. Turning around, we tried to retrace our steps, as the sun set, and it grew increasingly dark. Did I mention that I forgot to pack a flashlight?

 

After walking past/through twice as many mudholes as on our way in, I said, "This isn't the way we came in. We're lost again." By this time it was pitch dark, but fortunately we had Randy's fully-charged cellphone to use as a flashlight. A half mile later, Randy said, "There's your bike." I said, "You have got to be shitting me," but there it was, right where I had left it, suspended over the abyss by handlebars on the left, wheels on the right.

 

Randy said, "I don't know if I have enough strength left to lift it." That made me feel much better about not having been able to lift it by myself 11 hours earlier, but having found the bike, it also meant that we were no longer lost. After resting for a few minutes, Randy got under the bike on the left and managed to push it upright, while I grabbed and pulled on the handlebar on the right, while holding the front brake lever (which had to be pumped, as brake fluid had flowed out of the caliper after so long on its side).

 

Pant, pause, rest 10 minutes. Turn on the ignition switch. It's in neutral! Press the starter button, cough cough. Pull the choke. The engine starts, then dies. Reach over and turn the petcock to reserve. The engine starts, runs, and Randy rides it out, with me pushing from behind for ~20 feet. Go 100 feet to the clearing where I had left my jacket and helmet at 10:30 that morning (it was now after midnight), and rest for 10-15 minutes, drinking the last of our dwindling supply of water, and watching a nearly full moon come up over the mountains.

 

Along the hike out, I decided to take a chance and refill our water bottles from a rapidly flowing stream. Rarely have I enjoyed water so much.

 

I told Randy that I didn't have the energy or skill to ride it out the road I had walked out in the morning, especially concerned about a section where the "road" was less than 3 feet ride, with a 10-foot drop off the right side. My socks and shoes were soaked after wading through many mudholes and streams, but I hoofed it, with an increasingly tender little toe on my left foot.

 

Around 1:00 a.m., we reached 180, and rode 2-up (but I had removed the passenger pegs last winter, so finding a perch for my feet was difficult) down to Flatland Road again. Randy wanted to ride 2-up to the end of the pavement, because it was "only a half mile." I refused, as having ridden/driven Flatland 4 times that day, I remembered the distance as more like 2 miles. I got off, took off my left boot, and napped by the side of the road while Randy went down to retrieve his minivan.

 

Half an hour later, Randy pulled up, I climbed in, and we headed back toward Dahlonega. Randy had called my wife to tell her that she didn't need to send out a search party. We pulled in my driveway at 2:00 a.m. sharp, Randy called his wife to assure her that all was well, and we provided Randy with some Aleve and three bottles of water, and off he went, expecting to be home by ~3:30 a.m.

 

I took a shower, crawled in bed, and Pam said, "I'm really pissed with you right now. Shut up!" Pam had previously said she was nervous about my riding fire roads by myself, and that she wished I would find someone to ride with. I think I will take her advice in the future. I also think I'm going to look into getting a SPOT Messenger....

 

Someone from TWoS called at 8:00 this morning to say they had found my note in their message box, about a down bike, needing help to extract it. I recounted my tale, in somewhat condensed form. I was reminded of a Turkish word, aptal, which was totally appropriate to the situation.

 

Pam and I will drive back to Suches this afternoon, retrieve the bike, which I will ride home.

 

What a day/night!

Edited by Selden
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Wow! :eek: Glad you didn't pin a leg under the bike, could of made for a really long night! Randy, nice work! :thumbsup:

 

Pat

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Stan Walker

Not to be picky but you should carry a battery powered GPS when riding off road by yourself. Getting lost is easy, getting found isn't always as easy. :dopeslap:

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Better yet, don't go off road riding by yourself.... There are so many ways this tale could have turned out as a total disaster.

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Better yet, don't go off road riding by yourself.... There are so many ways this tale could have turned out as a total disaster.

 

What an adventure - wonderful that Randy was available to help and that it all ended well. Nice to know that others in their 70's are still willing to ride and act like we are in our 20's. It does, however, get us in trouble sometimes! :dopeslap:

 

Selden - I looked up the Turkish word "aptal" and yes the word also describes a few of my motorcycle solo "adventures"! :thumbsup:

Edited by Endobobdds
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roadscholar

Best story on here in a long time. :clap:

 

As an optimist and risk-taker (bad combo) I've gotten into jams like that a few times, and so far have been lucky enough to be rescued by friends, strangers, adrenaline/perseverance, and probably divine intervention.

 

There's a fine line between adventure and stupidity and for me it's still a little blurry but I'm learning. Harry Callahan (Dirty Harry) had a famous quote for it...

 

Great adventure Selden and thanks to Randy for being The Man!

 

 

 

 

Edited by roadscholar
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There's a fine line between adventure and stupidity and for me it's still a little blurry but I'm learning. Harry Callahan (Dirty Harry) had a famous quote for it...

 

Great adventure Selden and thanks to Randy for being The Man!

 

A fine line indeed, and I think I stepped over it more than once Tuesday. Last night, after the adrenaline wore off, I realized that I could have been trapped under the bike long enough to die a slow and miserable death.

 

Randy is definitely the man! He will literally drop everything to help someone out.

Edited by Selden
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Selden missed a couple of items. First Selden has a great 2006 Yamaha XT. Wonderful bike, FOR a 5_10 110lbs person. In addition Selden is running pavement tires. Block pattern tread, but basically pavement tires.

 

For those that know me, I do not quite fit into Selden's size parameters :-)

 

So it is now around midnight, we have been walking on 5-7 degree slop rocky mountain roads for 5 straight hours Yikes.

 

Selden was correct there were some really difficult sections in the approximate 2 miles to 180

 

 

So I am on a 28 horsepower XT set up for a 110lbs rider, with limited clutch capability and pavement tires :-) NO Problem

 

In fact the bike really impressed me, I was able to ride it out over some pretty difficult sections and then as noted by Selden the last 2.5 mile it carried us two up to flatland road

 

as it all ended well, it will just be one of those stories that gets longer and harder as each year goes by. :-)

 

Also Selden missed the biggest point of the story, around 10pm we took a long rest and discussed being lost/options.

 

Our final comment, two 60+ experienced riders should not be in this predicament. We both laughed and agreed.

 

And then we got up, started walking and found the bike, and rest is history and a good story.

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Selden, great job writing it all up, including the lessons learned.

 

Randy, thanks for being that kind of guy, who will drop everything to help a friend, even if said friend didn't get lost on a bike that fits you better. :dopeslap:

 

Glad both of you are okay.

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For those that know me, I do not quite fit into Selden's size parameters :-)

That's a bit of an understatement...

 

P1010010%20-%20Edited.jpg

 

For the record, a lightly modified XT225 makes — maybe — 20 horsepower, and mine is set up for a ~160 pound rider. I haven't weighed 110 since I was 18 years old.

 

Our final comment, two 60+ experienced riders should not be in this predicament.

Amen.

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Wow.

 

 

DOUBLE WOW

 

What a ride report! Glad it ended well. :clap:

 

 

 

 

Triple WOW!!!

Your wife being pissed with you is just plain silly...

:stir:

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Disclaimer #1: This too will be a long story...

Disclaimer #2: I don't own a motorcycle...(give it a chance, keep reading, and you'll see why I'm here and hopefully have a laugh or two as well)

 

First of all, I'll start by saying that I enjoyed your story immensely. I managed to come across it while searching the internet for some information about FS637. Why would I be looking up info on a random forest service road? Well, my buddy and I just spent the weekend in the Cooper Creek WMA where we were camping and doing some trout fishing, and we ran across this "road" FS637. It was our second day in the WMA, and we were driving around looking for some less crowded fishing spots as every place we had been was loaded up with people. We knew based on our map that we were traveling on FS33 which followed a creek. After a few miles we came across a small side spur on our right with a marker dubbed "FS637"...

 

We looked on our map and didn't see it anywhere. We decided that we'd go down it a little ways to see if we could find a good fishing hole off the beaten path. It seemed like any other service road, and with it already being 6:00 P.M. Saturday we decided we needed to make up our mind and fish for an hour or two so we'd still have enough time to get back to our camp.

 

These were mistakes #1 and #2. Never go explore a road that you don't have a map for, and if you do...doing it just hours before dark is not the right time to try.

 

We rode down this gravel road for what seemed like a couple miles. We passed Spriggs Chapel Cemetery, and a cool creek crossing. Eventually we came to a very rough and rocky section of the road. We noticed that there was a muffler sitting in the middle of the path and we decided that someone must have done the same thing as us, but with a car.

 

Thankfully, it sounds like you gave Randy good advice...

I told him there was no way in hell that an Odyssey cold navigate the road ahead.

You couldn't have been more right as we soon found out...

view?usp=sharing

 

Since we were heading downhill now, we both agreed that we should be coming to some streams that we hoped would yield big trout. We therefore decided to continue on. This was our third mistake...

 

A little further down the road we turned a corner and saw what I can only describe as a canyon. The ruts were feet deep and the gravel we had been traveling on was replaced with clay and a few large river rocks. I knew I couldn't reverse far enough back up the road to get to a place to turn around as it must have been almost a mile back. I also didn't think my vehicle (a decently modified jeep) could make it down this ravine. We were in a jam. On the left of the trail there was a small cleared area before the canyon walls came up that I thought we may be able to turn around on. We built a makeshift bridge out of stacked rocks and attempted to turn around. This process took the better part of 45 minutes, bringing us to roughly 7:30 P.M. As you can probably guess by the fact that I have a story to share...this endeavor did not work.

 

A twinge of panic started to set in as darkness was beginning to fall and we realized the only way out was to attempt to drive down the canyon, or to turn around and walk back on foot.

 

As Selden pointed out, there is NO cell phone reception in the area. In fact, we drove almost 20 miles earlier that day on a trip to get gas before we got a signal. This left us concerned with what we'd do if we decided to walk out. We would still have to find someone to give us a ride until we could use our phone to call somebody to come tow us out...yeah right.

 

That left us with only one option. So, down we went. It was challenging and my passenger side mirror was rubbing on the canyon wall while the jeep was tilted sideways at about a 45 degree angle from the deep ruts in the canyon.

 

open?id=0B0qNKHGQ-d_eTUpTNnRIRFkwaHc

 

We ended up making it through and got down to the bottom of a valley where we crossed a stream and found a small clearing or sorts. At this point, fishing was the last thought on our mind and we were starting to wonder how we'd get out of this. We continued following the trail as we didn't have a much better plan. We noticed some motorcycle tracks and had seen some guys riding around earlier in the day so we thought it was a good idea to follow them since maybe they knew where they were going.

 

This was a critical mistake. This is some serious foreshadowing here, but no, I'm not giving away spoilers yet. You'll just have to keep reading.

 

We kept traveling and the trail got smaller and more windy. We got stuck several more times and had to chop down small trees for ramps and use rocks get through some spots. The trail also began getting extremely wet, and there were LOTS of mud holes. Fortunately for us these weren't too big an issue, but the shrinking trail was. I noticed that there were an increasing number of Laurel trees and that they began to form almost a tunnel of sorts. This tunnel became roughly as big as my jeep as we trudged on with branches and limbs smacking and dragging down the sides and top.

 

We could still see we were following a motorcycle track. However, instead of the multiple tracks we had seen before, we now only saw one. We proceeded to follow it through the gauntlet of Laurels in the pitch black at 9:00 P.M. Unsure of how far we'd come, and how far we still had to go compounded with deteriorating trail conditions left us concerned. Very concerned. It was about that time that we came to this...

I told Randy that I didn't have the energy or skill to ride it out the road I had walked out in the morning, especially concerned about a section where the "road" was less than 3 feet wide, with a 10-foot drop off the right side.

 

I'm guessing we saw the same thing. In fact the trail we were following may have even been Selden's! Either way, it appears that the "road" just washed away in a storm or something. It was literally a giant gaping hole where the "road" used to be with only about a 3' wide remnant on the left side (uphill side). We immediately knew that we could go forward no further. To try and fail would mean rolling the jeep down a cliff. This left us in a near panic. As with the canyon before, we had NO room to turn around. We figured we would just reverse back down the trail as far as possible and pray we reached a spot we could turn around in.

 

With my buddy walking behind me with a headlamp, we proceeded to reverse almost 3/4 of a mile (I finally was smart enough to set the tripometer). We thankfully found a spot I could do a 10 point turn in and get going back forward (the way we came in) again.

 

At this point we realized that there was no way in hell we were getting back to our camp that night. In fact, I wasn't confident that my jeep was ever getting out of that WMA. Our plan was to continue back to the clearing we saw earlier in the evening because it seemed like the most open and safe spot to spend the night.

 

At about 10:00 that night, we made it back to the clearing. After a lengthy discussion of how screwed we were, where we went wrong, and how on earth we were going to get out of this jam; we ate a split a hearty meal of a cliff bar and a box of cheezits that we scrounged up in the jeep. At around 11:30 P.M. we reclined the seats as far back as was possible and attempted to get some sleep and reassess our situation in the morning.

 

After a very long night with little sleep, we got started first thing in the morning. We started walking back the way we came to formulate a plan on how to get up what I had deemed impossible (given our equipment and preparedness) the day before. We slowly but surely crawled our way back up, until we came back to the bottom of the canyon. My buddy and I spent about an hour surveying and building up the trail using large river rocks and logs until we felt we may actually be able to get back up.

 

The jeep handled the terrain well, only getting stuck twice which required additional backwoods engineering. At about 9:30 A.M. Sunday we made it back to the top of the canyon and breathed a heavy sign of relief that we had made it past the worst of the "road".

 

open?id=0B0qNKHGQ-d_ebTJxeFBsMTFLcDg

 

We proceeded to drive the rest of the way up the mountain, past the muffler, past the steam, and past the cemetery. At about 10:00 A.M. we made it back to where it all began...the intersection of FS33 and FS637, which I believe is the same place you found yourself Selden...

I figured I was near the intersection of FS637 (aka Flatlands) and FS33, so I hiked out, but when I got to the T where the track (doesn't deserve to be called a road) I was on ended, I found myself on a fire road that eventually turned into Suches Creek Lane, which is a few miles south of Cooper Creek, not at all where I had thought I was.

Ecstatic to have escaped with only a couple dents in the side of the jeep, and ready for a meal and shower; we packed up camp and drove back to Atlanta.

 

We both knew that this could surely not have been the first time this road had been encountered; so, naturally we resorted to a search on google. I struggled to find FS637 on ANY maps, but I did see your map on the image search and the story that followed sounded all too familiar to us. We can fully appreciate your situation.

 

if I had any sense at all, I should have turned around that morning). As we walked up the increasingly rutted road, he realized why I had said it was impassable for anything but a rock crawling off road vehicle or a motorcycle.

I could not agree more. I don't now how it was deemed a road, unless the rough sections have just washed out from this years storms and/or people intentionally off roading through it.

 

I also think I'm going to look into getting a SPOT Messenger....

I have one, and I would highly recommend it. We had it with us but we didn't want to use it because we didn't want our significant others to go in to a panic thinking we were hurt or in serious trouble. That being said, it was probably the only thing keeping us from having a nervous breakdown. The knowledge that with the push of a button someone will be there shortly to hep you provides more peace of mind than you can put a price on.

 

I, like you, cannot believe I made the mistakes I did. Looking back on the event, they are both numerous and obvious. Fortunately we made it out just fine, but things certainly could have been worse. Some of the obvious mistakes were:

  • Not having a detailed enough map
  • not paying attention to distance travelled
  • not telling anyone our exact location or intentions
  • not having a backup GPS
  • following a motorcycle track with a vehicle

We are both experienced outdoorsmen and I have a good bit of experience with off-road driving, but this kind of thing can happen to anybody if you are complacent like we were. Thankfully it all worked out fine and is now just quite a story. Hopefully you will find it as funny as we found yours.

 

Cheers,

Matt

P.S. Hopefully the pictures work. I'm just a rookie here.

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Charles Elms

Matt,

Your first mistake was being a devoted fisherman! Great story, thanks for sharing.

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After selecting the hiking shoe that least hurt the little toe on my left foot, I returned to the scene of the crime this morning to retrieve my Held gloves and waist support belt. In at 7:30, home by 9:30.

 

This photo explains why my wife and I hiked in a circle for more than an hour last Wednesday:

 

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Following the proper path, it took only ~30 minutes to find my stuff, and I didn't even get my feet wet despite fording multiple streams.

 

P1000855.jpg

 

P1000857%20-%20Edited.jpg

 

 

Nasty, nasty road, way beyond the skill level of someone who has been riding off road for only ~1 year. After the fact, when I mentioned "Flatland Road," every local that I talked with said he would no longer ride that road because it was so torn up, After riding up stuff like this for ~1 hour, I was worn out:

 

P1000843.jpg

 

 

By the time I reached this rooty section, I was walking alongside the bike when I slipped and tipped:

 

P1000848%20-%20Edited.jpg

 

 

After getting the XT225 upright, Randy rode up this stretch, with me pushing for the first 100 feet or so:

 

P1000853.jpg

 

 

The trail actually got worse from there:

 

P1000859.jpg

 

 

Randy, bless his heart, rode through this section at midnight, something I wouldn't have had the confidence to do at high noon. 3' from tree trunk on the left to the hole of doom on the right, with very little margin for error:

 

P1000862.jpg

 

P1000864.jpg

 

 

All's well that ends well.

Edited by Selden
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actually looking at these pictures, I think the dark of night may have helped me :-) I could not see how really bad the road (ok trail) really was :-)

 

and yes, the left mirror actually hit the tree, it was that tight.

Edited by randy
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If my wife and I had taken the left fork Tuesday afternoon, none of this would have happened....

 

 

Isn't there a poem along those lines? :grin:

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Disclaimer #1: This too will be a long story...

Disclaimer #2: I don't own a motorcycle...(give it a chance, keep reading, and you'll see why I'm here and hopefully have a laugh or two as well)

 

First of all, I'll start by saying that I enjoyed your story immensely. I managed to come across it while searching the internet for some information about FS637. .......

Hi Matt,

Happy you happened upon our BMWST.com board and that you took the time to post your "ride tale"! Between your and Selden's adventures on FS637 this road/trail may be something that we might suggests to the off road guys we don't particularly care for. :rofl:

 

I was in a similar situation in WV a few years ago and learned my lesson not to attempt any road I might not be able to turn around on when riding by myself. :thumbsup:

 

 

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Disclaimer #1: This too will be a long story...

Disclaimer #2: I don't own a motorcycle...(give it a chance, keep reading, and you'll see why I'm here and hopefully have a laugh or two as well)

 

First of all, I'll start by saying that I enjoyed your story immensely. I managed to come across it while searching the internet for some information about FS637. .......

Hi Matt,

Happy you happened upon our BMWST.com board and that you took the time to post your "ride tale"! Between your and Selden's adventures on FS637 this road/trail may be something that we might suggests to the off road guys we don't particularly care for. :rofl:

 

I was in a similar situation in WV a few years ago and learned my lesson not to attempt any road I might not be able to turn around on when riding by myself. :thumbsup:

 

 

+1 Great story!

Funny how things happen and overlap.

Liked seeing your photos of the Jeep... and it was up right. :thumbsup:

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Randy pointed me to Matt's tale today. What a great story!

 

This evening a friend sent me a link to a Youtube video of a Russian vehicle that would be perfect for this road:

 

This thing could have straddled the road, with wheels on each side.

 

S8.png

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