The gang from the shop and our friends were eager to ride some more after we 
had just finished racing the bottom course early this afternoon.  We quenched 
our thirsts with pop and we rode single file out of  the parking lot and 
headed for the "Top of the World." 

We approached the steep incline of "Rattle Snake Gulch" and blasted our way 
up the rocky ravine. Now it's time for me to stand on my pegs and hover over 
the gas tank.   

The "Gulch" was a steep rocky ravine which millions upon millions years 
erosion and floods carved series of twists, bends, gullys, ravines and washes 
out of this mountain.  The first 5 miles of "Rattle Snake" must be navigated 
in first and second gears with deliberations and full attention while 
climbing or one will spin out and stall.  It's a "Royal Class A"  bitch to 
start from a dead stop on these incredibly steep inclines with football sized 
rocks and loose shale scattered about. 

Jim with his 250 Montesta and I were constantly passing each other when 
either one of us was in trouble and stalled.  The others were not in sight.   
After a while we cleared the "mother of all hairpins" which our bikes were 
bouncing from one deep ragged rut to another and we barely made it without 
spinning out and pulled onto a small leveled area above the hairpin.   

We parked our overheated bikes on the side next to the edge so the others can 
drive onto the only available flat spot.  Took my cigs and Zippo out of my 
front jacket pocket, lit and took a drag off my cig and waited for the 
others. 

We haven't left the tree line yet but I can see the top of the pine trees 
from where we are parked...  The forest was quiet and tranquil now but not 
for long. The silence of the forest was broken with the other bikes clamoring 
up the steep grade. 

Jim and I knew that some of the gang may need help.  The 90 CC Mini Bikes 
came first.  They entered the hair pin, stalled and down they went...  They 
didn't need our help cause the Mini bikes were light enough for them to carry 
on their backs, if needed to...  Hell!  Pete and Ed were over 6 ft tall and 
weighed 200 LB. 

It was down right hilarious to see them straddle their bikes with their legs 
dangling off the sides of their bikes.  Like the clowns you see at the "Three 
Ring Circus."  At times, they did a "Duck Walk" while sitting on their bikes, 
using first gear and climbing the steep part of the inclines.  We then 
nicknamed them "Daddy Legs" and "Spider." 

The rest, 250 Suzuki, 200 Cub, 175 Bultaco a couple of Hondas that I can't 
remember the size came and down they went also. After a few false starts all 
of them made it. For some who have had made it for the first time were 
overjoyed.   

After all had rested and told their stories of conquest of the first leg of 
the "Gulch" Jim and I spun our rear wheels in first gear and slowly, bouncing 
off the rocks, out of the level area and hit onto another incline.  Now, 
we're leaving the ravine and approaching a steep trail that cuts into the 
side of the mountain.   

The steep trail was wide enough to accommodate two speeding bikes but risky 
due to the drop off to the canyon below.  There wasn't any guard rails.  I 
needed elbow room.  Hmmmm.... "It's tweak your adrenaline time."   

We went to the top of one mountain then drop back down to another ravine but 
not as steep but still climbing.  Jim let me pass and I took the advantage of 
his chivalry and sped toward the long sloping left hand curve that had 
incredibly smooth surface and led to another steep incline. 

I entered the smooth inviting curve and down I went.  I was spitting out 
dust. 
Looks can be deceiving!   Jim passed me on the rough outside high side of the 
curve.  He stopped at the top of the rise and looked back and watched me 
while I was flopping around in 18 inches of fine silt at the center of the 
curve. 

I got to my bike and picked it up from the dirt/silt and started it up and 
began speeding out of it but I couldn't steer the bike and the bike and I 
went down in the choking silt again. 

Seems that there were ruts hidden underneath the silt that went everywhere 
but straight.  I had to get out of the silt and go to the higher rocky side 
to get out of that crazy trap.  That's why Jim let me pass a while back... So 
he can see me make an ass of myself.   

I was cookin' by the time I had reached Jim at the rise.  He sped out and   
we're vying for the lead as we bounced in and out of the deep ruts that had 
cut into the steep incline.  Soon, we would be heading for the side of 
another mountain and towards the cliffs again.   

I twisted my throttle wide open as we cleared the ruts and sped up the 
somewhat less rocky incline to the cliff's edge.  Jim, being a family man and 
in his 40's, backed off.  Me...  Being a single, 22 year old fool, felt 
invincible, speeding toward the edge of the cliffs, brushed with death as I 
power banked away from the edge, bounced up the other side of the trail and 
banked sideways up the wall of the mountain.   

After coming down the wall I blasted my way further up the trail and onto a 
small plateau.  I had to down shift into second to slow down as I entered a 
semi bowl enclosure and attempted to turn hard left while passing some thick 
underbrush on my left with the towering mountain side on my right. 

Just before I turned I had noticed that there were glass shards and some shot 
up debris toward the right against the back drop of the mountain.   
I knew that I was entering a make shift firing range.   
"Sh--!"  I'm between the shooters and their intended targets.    

I heard reports of gun fire and I slid my bike under and went down using it 
as a shield. There were some more gun fire, rocks were exploding beside me 
and dirt and pebbles were peppering my riding jacket and pants.   

The five shooters immediately ceased fire and rushed over to me.  Jim came 
shortly after and stopped behind some boulders on the left side of the trail 
for protection as I was cautiously bobbing my head up and peering over my 
bike to see if the rifle barrels were still pointing in my direction.   

As the shooters helped me up and said the usual excuses of "We didn't hear or 
see you come."  As a fellow shooter with tremendous amount of self control I 
told them that they made several irresponsible and idiotic mistakes...  Never 
shoot across a public thoroughfare or roadway to your intended target...   
Make sure that there is no possible way for any one to cross your field or 
range...  At least put one field spotter while the others are shooting down 
range.  On and on I went. 

I dusted my self off and checked for any holes in my clothing or flesh then 
picked up the TT to check it over.  It was caked with mud and dirt but no 
major dents or bullet holes. 

The shooters were standing around slack jawed and waiting.  I quickly turned 
towards them and said...  "There will be more bikers coming through here and 
I know for a fact that they are anti-guns fanatics and if they see you here 
at this location they will not hesitate to report you."   

They left with their tails between their legs.  Sure enough the others came 
one by one. "What happened?" Someone would say.  Jim filled them in as I 
slowly and shakily sat down on my bike to settle my nerves...  Heck!  If I 
didn't take a dump back in the woods a while back.  I'd be changing my shorts 
now.  All I can hear in my head was... 
"They're coming to take me away to the Funny Farm.  Ha, ha, he, he, ho, ho!" 

We decided to finish our day climbing the hills.  We headed for the "Widow 
Maker" and I shut my TT down.  I'm sitting on the TT watching the other 
bikers making their mad dashes up the "Widow Maker."  Most have had reached a 
little more than half way. 

A select few made as far three quarters.  Jim almost made it, just shy of a 
few feet to the top then pivoted around on his rear tire and sped back down 
without removing his feet from his pegs... That old man has Balls!   

I asked him.  "Why did you quit and turned around when you know you would 
have made it to the top?" 

"I was going way too fast and would have been airborne and missed the 
landing, slide to the other side and fall 1000 ft to the bottom of the 
gorge." He replied. 

Whoa!  I gotta take a hike up there and see this for myself.  There was about 
100 feet of running room before the base of the climb then it angles upward 
at about 30 degrees. No ruts for the first 150 feet then gradually turns into 
45 degrees and ran for 500 feet but with many deep criss cross ruts that 
steers your bike to the general area of "V" section at the center.  By the 
time we hiked half way I was huffin' and puffin' and took a small break to 
get catch some wind. 

The last 200 ft was an insanely steep with loose broken shale and mixture of 
fist sized rocks and pebbles.  There was a two foot crown at where the edge 
of the top and landing was at.  I can see why one would need the speed to 
clear it.  "I like challenges" I boasted...   
Jim said.  "Wait till you have reached the top."   

I grabbed for the roots that were poking out of the ground along the side of 
the hill and yanking on the branches of the under brush next to me, I managed 
to crawl over the top. 

Big surprise!  There was a landing no bigger than a two bay work shop.  Off 
to the left side of it is a fire road that leads back down to the side of the 
mountain but with a nice and gradual slope that a forest service truck can 
use.  Directly across the 20-25 foot landing was a drop off that Jim talked 
about. 

"How many times have you reached the top" I asked Jim.   
"Oh, several times back when I was in my 20's... Of course, then it didn't 
have the steep incline and deep cut ruts that has now.   

All those years of the rains, earthquakes taking the other 100 feet of 
landing and sent it down the gorge and the off road vehicles abuse of this 
mountain  finally took it's toll."   

We had walked down the service road, chatted about the weather and telling 
each other on how warm it got in rest of the afternoon.  Talked about the 
ride up the "Gulch."  We talked just about everything there was to talk about 
but the "Widow maker." 

About 20 minutes later we reached our parked bikes along the rest of the gang 
who were laying underneath their lean-to's that were tied across their bikes. 
 The late spring sun it was hot. 

I reached over to my GI canteen off my "Triple Trees" took a gulp of 
refreshingly cool water.  Some of the water spilled and passed my lips then 
onto the ground. I watched the droplets of water sucked into the dry dirt and 
tied the canteen back on the bike. 
You said, "What the verdict?" 

"I'm going climb the Widow Maker." I lit my cig with my Zippo and put the 
lighter back in my front jacket pocket along with my pack.    
Jim said, "You'll over shoot if you clear it too fast."   
I took couple of drags out my cig scanning the climb. 

"I have a plan." I replied.  "I'll try to stay out of the ruts in the in the 
middle of the climb and if I can maintain my speed on the far right of the 
ruts, brushing among the knee high bushes, with my bike angle diagonally 
towards the left, exiting from the right side of the top then hopefully land 
myself and the bike on the service road to the left of the landing." 

There were other bikers speeding up the climb but got as far as half way and 
turned back to try again...  I was watching how the bikes were forced to the 
middle.  I studied them as a few made it out of the ruts and headed for the 
right of the "V" but quickly lost power and spun out or stalled on the steep 
banked incline. 

I stamped out my cig and fired up the TT and rechecked my carb adjustments 
and lowered to where it died in case I lost it.  Didn't want the rear 
wheel/tire or rear sprocket and chain do a "tap dance" on my body...   

I roared to the to the base of Widow Maker to check my acceleration and top 
RPM performance and turned back to the beginning of the run. 

Started in second with the throttle wide open, shifted into third as I passed 
halfway down the run, shifted to fourth as I hit the base of the hill.  I was 
probably doing 70-75 MPH at that point.  My adrenaline was soaring as I 
climbed the first 150 feet. 

The TT was losing RPM and power quickly and I down shifted into third, then I 
stood on my pegs leaning forward over my handle bars.  I was forced to the 
left hand rise along the ruts but it was too much of a bank and I veered 
towards the center. 

Now, I'm stuck inside of the deep ruts and speeding up the last 200 feet of 
the hill.  I had to down shift to second to maintain my climbing speed but I 
was still stuck in the "V."  I backed off and pivoted back down using my 
right foot.   

The gang was waiting at the start of the run and asked, "Well?" 
"Hold your horses!" I yelled. 

This time I wanted to climb up on the right side of the center not on the 
left.  The TT flew up the hill in fourth and I downshifted and stood on the 
pegs much earlier than the last run so I can maintain my power and speed as I 
reached the ruts. 

Well, I was forced into the same spot.  Heck!  Law of gravity and bad luck 
was in play... I kept scrambling up on the left side of the ruts but 
eventually veered across the center.  I jumped the ruts at the center by 
accident and ended on the right bank heading towards the bushes. 

I backed off on the throttle as I went into the bushes and lost my forward 
momentum.  The TT stalled, I pivoted myself and the TT on my left leg, headed 
down hill and bump started the TT. 

Went down and killed the motor at the run and coasted towards the parked 
bikes and needed a smoke break and to cool off the smoking bike before I 
wanted to try again. 

All of you said, "Let it be, let's move on."   
"Oh hell!  You're right.  Go ahead, let me finish my smoke and cool off my TT 
a little.  I'll meet you at the watering hole a few miles up the trail."  I 
replied. 

All of you blasted towards the "Hole" as I sat on my TT and stared at the 
Widow Maker.  I was seriously thinking trying it again...  I'd be fool to 
break our number one rule, always have a "buddy" in case one get hurt or 
stuck.    

I put it out my head...  Stamped out my cig, kick started the TT, Slammed it 
first and did a complete doughnut and shot out back on the main trail and 
headed for the watering hole. 

From the watering hole we raced further down the service road to the easier 
hill climbs and if the one didn't make it on their first run they had 
conquered them by their second attempt. 

We had more fun running around the "upper course" tracks that weave 
throughout the smaller hill climbs as the warm afternoon spring day wore 
on... We even swapped bikes among ourselves which was a charge to watch a few 
of the guys eyes widen and clenched their teeth as they rode the TT and 
bucked up and down the trail.   

A few rode the TT on the smaller hill climbs.  Pete and Ed would say too much 
power and didn't like the front end coming up too easily...  I explained to 
them when you pull up the hill you stand on the pegs and lean forward...   
Less front end lift.    

On the way back to the "Gulch" we had to pass the Widow Maker.  I can see her 
flat topped peak jutting out among the other hills. She was beckoning and 
daring me. 

The guys passed me as I slowed down to look at her back side, a long way to 
fall to the bottom as I was thinking.  Suddenly, I veered to the left and 
went up the service road of the Widow Maker. 

I reached to top and parked the TT and walked to the edge of the climb.  I 
can see that the guys were stopped and motioning for me to come down.  Gosh, 
they are as small as ants down there. 

After sizing up my options I went to my waiting "Stallion" and roared down 
the service road and stopped at the beginning of the run.   
" I'm going to conquer the Widow Maker!"  I roared off before any of you guys 
had a chance to say their piece. 

I had this "Gut Feeling" that TT and I are going to make our own personal 
history either in success or failure.  This time, I'm not going to fight the 
all powerful law of gravity and it's unseen forces.   
"Go with the flow!"  I exclaimed. 

Speeding towards the base in forth gear with my engine screaming, my valves 
were on the brink of floating and my terminal speed at the base must have had 
reached 100 Mph.  My whole body slammed against the tank as I shot upward the 
climb. 

Losing rpm by the time passed the first 100 feet of the climb, I then down 
shifted to third, stood on my pegs and leaned over the handle bars climbing 
on the right side of the "V."  I was still maintaining my speed and power. 

I had noticed that something "white" was peppering my left side of neck and 
cheek and disappeared behind me.  No time to check that out, don't bother me 
now and I kept my senses tuned to my climb.    

Then by the laws of "unseen forces"  I crossed the damn deep ruts, bounced on 
the left of the "V" but still climbing at a good clip in third gear. 

My options began to narrow when I reached about 150 feet from the top.   
Either stop and turn back or wait till I bounced to the right and across the 
ruts and head for the bushes as I did the last run.   
Then suddenly, I flew across the "V!"   

This time I was still maintaining my speed as I approached the right side and 
bull dozed through the knee high bushes.  Broke free from the bushes and   
another 25-30 feet later my front wheel,  the bike crested the edge 
"diagonally" and I immediately backed off my throttle so my engine acts like 
a brake and the rear tire dragged across the crown.  My airborne front wheel 
went down with a hammering jolt. I  landed then bounced back into the air, 
piloted my bike towards the service road, made a two point landing and 
screeched sideways to a complete stop on the service road. 
"I made it, you C--k S---er!"  Screaming at the top of my lungs. 

I killed the motor and sat on my TT.  I reached for my cigs and Zippo in my 
left jacket pocket and my 3/4 full pack of cigs were gone.  Seems that the 
suction or winds took my cigs one at a time out of my half opened soft pack 
as I climbed the Widow Maker.  Or was it the Widow Maker has the last laugh?   
Hmmmm...  Next time buy a hard pack. 

The guys couldn't see or hear my TT after I cleared "her."  Fearing the 
worst, some got off their bikes ran up the climb, a few went around to the 
side and up the service road. 

Swung my kick stand out and got off the TT and walked over the edge and 
waved.  Jim came along the service road and stopped beside me as I was waving 
and he said, "Good show."   

He looked down the Widow Maker and turned his head slowly to me, giving me a 
big grin and yelled, "Last one back is a ------!"  Then he went over the edge 
and descended down the Widow Maker.  That SOB! 

I ran back to my TT and kicked started it made a 180 degree doughnut and went 
over the edge myself...  Jim was already at the base and speeding off towards 
the "Gulch."  The others got a wind of what's happening and took off after 
Jim.  Whoa!  What a trip going down the Widow maker but not as hard as going 
up. 

I raced down the "Gulch" sitting on my "Buddy Seat" so I can have some 
traction with my engine braking.  I felt like I was falling over the front of 
my TT as we went down.  It looks steeper going downhill than uphill. Jim was 
standing on his pegs all the way down...   

Matter of fact I never saw him sit down once, except when he has to stop.   
Strange riding stance he has there... 
Maybe he has hemorrhoids in his old age. HEH, HEH. 

JACK, 





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