series, and the BlackJack Enduro Circuit. Brian posted this report to the
rec.motorcycles.dirt newsgroup in 2002 after a visit to the White Rock
recreational area near Fayetteville, Arkansas.
Subject: White Rock Ride (er Stranding) Report (don't miss this one)
Newsgroups: rec.motorcycles.dirt
Date: 2002-05-17 12:14:35 PST
Hiya all,
Josh and I had a, how shall we put it... ‘fairly intense’ weekend out at White Rock,
Arkansas last weekend. I will try to keep this one shorter than others I have posted,
but I will also give you the moral of the story first off, so if you wanna skip the rest,
you can. =)
Moral of the Story: Trails at White Rock dead end for a reason, so don't try to blaze
your own.
OK, with that said, you may quit reading at this point.
Friday Morning:
Josh and I take off from camp and head back down to where they had started the
enduro just six weeks prior. The flat bed trailer from an 18-wheeler that used to be
the bridge over the creek had been 'moved' by the creek at some point in time since
the race. It was now up on its side on the bank. Our goal was to try and follow the
enduro trail for as long as we could!
It didn't take long before we had lost the enduro trail, so we just decided to ride
wherever we felt like! We rode about 30 miles and then headed back for some lunch.
After lunch, we headed back out in hopes of finding some more single track. We had
been staying mostly on the main trails, which are great to ride, but not anywhere as
near as fun as all the single track stuff White Rock has to offer. I finally started to
recognize some of the terrain, and found out where the gas stop had been at the
previous enduro. Cool! If we follow this fire road up, there is a turn off into some real
nasty virgin single track. We found the trail, and then promptly made a wrong turn
and lost it again. No matter, we were on some more seasoned single track stuff that
was a bit more open than the stuff they put us thru in the enduro. What a blast!
We made our way thru 10 to 15 miles of the stuff. I was starting to wear Josh out,
so we decided it best to try and find our way back to camp and get some dinner.
Hey, we still got two days of riding! No point in killing ourselves the first day. Hehe, if
only we knew what we were in for...
We get back out of the single track and find a road vaguely familiar from the morning
ride. I pull out the GPS and we check to see where we are. Cool, looks like we should
have about 10-12 miles of fire road to get us back. We started following the road
that we thought would get us back, and it started going the wrong direction. Hmmm,
we just passed a trail that headed up to the north, which was the way we needed to
go. We turned around and shot up the trail. It was a little overgrown, but I could
see fresh tracks (like, less than a week old), so we kept on going on. The trail dead-
ended at a creek crossing that was fairly high up on the mountain. We stopped and
looked around. Hey wait, there's the trail. It crosses the creek right down there! So
we shot across the creek and kept following the trail. It was starting to look more
and more overgrown, and a lot less traveled, and then all of the sudden, just
disappeared! Hmm, what to do. I turn the GPS back on as I have it mounted on the
handlebars at this point. Well hell Josh, the trail we are trying to get to is only 3
tenths of a mile away from here! Surely we can just blaze our own and get over to it!
(Note: BAD decision #1). We are pretty high up on the mountain, and all we should
have to do is get up to the top, and it should be 2 tenths of a mile of downhill on the
back side to hit our trail. There is fallen timber all over the place. The poison ivy is
about a foot tall, and completely covers the ground, which in turn, hides all the big
nasty rocks below. The fallen leaf cover from last fall makes for a nice blanket which
traps moisture, and makes everything down there fairly slick. No traction on stuff you
can't see sucks. And the fallen timber isn't helping anything for straight line shots at
stuff.
So after trying to get up the mountain about 10 different ways, which really wasn't all
that steep at this point, we decide that this isn't going to work. I look around, and
realize, that in the process of trying to get up the mountain, all we had done is work
our way farther from the dead ended trail that we came up. And oh yea, I think we
are actually farther down the mountain at this point. At this point, it looks as if there
is no way to get back to the end of the trail without trying to go back up some stuff
that we weren't having very much success at.
Consult the GPS again. Pull out the contour map. I can't even believe that the GPS is
getting a signal in below the thick canopy of the forest. "Well Josh, it looks like we
could stay on the bench we are on now, we can follow it around the side of the
mountain, and STILL get to the trail". We both agree this is the best thing to do.
(Note: BAD decision #2) So we start working our way across the bench. It's about
100 yards wide. But it still isn't enough room to really navigate anything easily. We
come upon a few creeks going down across the bench. Wow, there sure are some big
rocks in them creeks (the size of Volkswagon buses). And look at all the falls! Hmm,
this is going to be tricky to get across. Lift, pull, and heave both bikes across. Great,
there's another one just like the last one!
After 4 hours of pushing, pulling, lifting the bikes over everything imaginable, we are
tired. The bikes had been overheating cause we just weren't moving anywhere. Its
starting to get dark. Josh just sucked the last bit of water out of my camelbak. He
was cramping up pretty bad, and he didn't have a headlight. It was hard enough
trying to move the bikes in the daylight, moving his at dusk with no headlight wasn't
very enticing. Any wrong decision in which way is the easiest, will cost you another
half an hour of trying to get out of whatever situation you just put yourself and the
bike in. So, my GPS has been running low on batteries. I have been only turning it
on when needed to see how far we have made it. Looks like our 'as the crow flies'
distance from the dead end trail, was about 1.5 miles. Wow, 4 hours and only 1.5
miles straight line. Well, looks like we had another 4 tenths of a mile to get to the trail.
We ditch Josh's bike. I mark it on the GPS so we can get back to it later. Josh hooves
it on foot and I keep plugging along with the KTM, while he moves trees for me so I
can get thru. We get another 2 tenths of a mile. I'm exhausted. My bike is hot.
Maybe we should just quit. Josh decides that he is cramping too bad to go without
water. Who knows how much longer it would take to go 2 tenths of a mile in the
dark. We decide to stop with the KTM at this point (Note: BAD decision #3). I mark
the KTM on the GPS, then we decide that it is about a 3 tenths of a mile walk down
the mountain to get back to that creek we had crossed a long time ago back at the
top of the mountain. So we decide to hoof it down to the creek, in the dark. (Note:
BAAAD decision #4, 5, and 6).
Once we get off the bench, the mountain becomes fairly steep. We have no
flashlight. The skies are overcast. It’s a new moon. And the canopy of the forest
almost completely blocks out what little light is coming from the heavens. I am leading
the trek down the mountain. I try to always put a tree directly below me so that if I
start to slide, I'll have something to stop me. This worked for a little while, maybe
200 feet. We get to another steep section. I spot a tree down hill from me, and start
toward it. I start to lose my footing. I start sliding...down. All of a sudden, there is
nothing under my feet. I'm in a free fall. I start to wonder what happened to the
ground. I say "Oh, shit". I start to wonder if the last thing I will say in my life, is "Oh,
shit". Ouch, there’s the ground. That didn't feel very good. I lay there for a moment
in total disbelief of what just happened. I can hear Josh yelling at me asking me if I'm
OK. I yell back at Josh to not take one step further, and inform him that I just fell off
a cliff (as if he hadn't figured that out yet). He keeps asking if I'm OK. I say, "I don't
know." My heart is pounding and my adrenaline is flowing. I'm afraid to move. What
did I just break? I move one arm, then the other. One leg then the other. I lift my
head up and roll it around. I lean forward and get to my feet. Nothing hurts real bad
and I can stand. "I guess I'm OK", I yell back to Josh. Thank goodness I had all my
riding gear on. My head would probably be mush right now without a helmet.
I start digging for my lighter so I can get some bearings about me. I whip it out and
light it up. Holy shit. I look back at what I just fell off of, and where I landed. Hmm,
looks like about a 15 to 20' drop I just survived. I think I landed in the one spot in the
whole forest that didn't have rocks. 2 feet from where I landed, there is a 3 foot tall
rock about 1' by 2' sticking out of the ground. I almost get sick thinking of what
would have happened if I would have landed on it. I start praying, thanking God I'm
still alive.
I walk around to one side of the cliff, looking for a way to get Josh down. I can't see
him, but we are talking back and forth and he can see the light from the lighter. I find
a crevice with some steps where Josh can get down if I guide his feet into each step.
Knowing that Josh is seriously dehydrated, and that I have been in the hospital before
because of my allergic reactions to poison ivy, we decide to keep on going toward the
creek. At least there I can rinse off and Josh can get some water. We make it about
100 more feet and my lighter runs out of gas...
Realizing that we are already lucky that I'm not dead, we decide to hold up there for
the night. I can't even see my hand in front of my own face now. We lay down and
make a bed out of poison ivy and rocks. There is absolutely zero wind. There aren't
any crickets to be heard. We are too far away from the creek to hear it or any of the
frogs. It’s dead silent and absolutely pitch black. We have no way to make a fire.
And even if we could, finding dry lumber that wasn't laying in poison ivy would have
been impossible. Burning wood with the oil from the poison ivy plant on it would have
me needing a hospital, some serious steroids, and all the benadryl you could pump
into me to keep me alive.
We lay there and talked about our situation, about the bad decisions we had made,
and how lucky I was to be alive. Josh starts to nod off eventually, and I start thinking
about the Blair Witch Project (the only movie I have ever watched that truly freaked
me out). I realize this is going to be the longest 9 hours of my life till sunrise. We
started getting cold with all the sweat that we were soaked in. I laid closer to a grown
man than I ever wanted to that night. I start to nod off. I guess I started to mumble
in my shallow sleep. Josh wakes up and goes, "Did you say something?" Hehe, so
much for falling asleep. Josh's hands are cold. I offer to have him stick one down my
chest protector to help keep them warm. As he is nodding off again, his hand starts
twitching. He's now grabbing my boob. I figured any sleep either one of us could get
tonight would be precious, so I didn't even wake him and tell him to quit. It was
actually kind of funny, and I chuckled a little.
We talked often thru the night about what time it could possibly be. Lots of shivering
and readjustments to try and get comfortable on the unforgiving rocks. My ribs were
now starting to hurt on my left side. I had difficulty picking myself up to try and get
comfortable. We heard an owl or two, and a few wild turkeys. But I never once heard
any critters scurrying about around us. I was convinced there would be lots of action
that night to freak me out. The only thing that freaked me out was the growls from
Josh's stomach every once in a while.
The sun FINALLY started to show in the still overcast skies. I would estimate that I
slept no more than an hour all night. When it was light enough for us to navigate, we
started on down the mountain. We got to the creek and washed up a bit and drank.
GPS out (now with the batteries out of Josh's GPS, as mine were dead). We had
about a 3-mile walk back to where some RVs were that we had seen the day before.
Two hours of hiking and we were back to some semblance of civilization. No one in
the camp was up yet, so we layed down on a section of flat, rockless ground with no
poison ivy. Wow was it ever comfortable!!! Just as I was about to nod off, one of the
guys in one of the RVs had woke up and begun to stir. He walked over to us to see
just what the hell we were doing laying on the ground in full gear with no bikes to be
seen.
We explained our situation. They gave us water and biscuits and sausage.
YUMMMMMMM!!! The three guys were probably in their late fifties or early sixties. I
was just wondering what was going on in their head after we told them of our
tribulations. I imagine they were thinking something like, "What a bunch of dumb ass
Kansas boys". They put us on the back of their utility 4-wheelers and gave us a ride
back to our camp. Turns out that road we were on the day before was the proper
road to get us back to camp. DUH!!! We drank more water, ate a bunch more food,
and prepared for our adventure for the day, which was to go rescue our abandoned
bikes.
With flashlights in both our fanny packs, some extra food, a few lighters, and two
fresh sets of batteries for the GPS's, we headed out. Drove the truck to the top of
the mountain on a fire road. Found the trailhead and started walking on down. While
we were back in camp, a local to the area had stopped to chat with us while we were
recovering. He offered to follow us down the trail and make sure we got out OK. We
walked down and down and down. Constantly checking the GPS and the topo map
trying to figure out where we could get off and go find our bikes. We found what
seemed like a good place and started blazing our own trail on foot. I can tell you one
thing for sure. We would have never in a million years found our bikes again if we
hadn't had them marked on the GPS. NOT IN A MILLION YEARS. We found my bike
and stopped for a rest. I set my helmet down with my gloves inside. GPS says 1000
feet to Josh's bike. We kept on truckin to Josh's bike. We found it and Josh dumped
some water in his radiator as he had boiled over once or twice the day before. So
David (the local) and I start clearing out the way for Josh, and we get his bike back to
mine pretty quick. While he is resting, David and I go look at the cliff I fell off of. He
said, "Oh yea, I saw where you landed. I rode in on the bench below this one. That
was a pretty hairy fall." (Understatement of the year).
I assure David that Josh and I can take it from here on out, and he needn't help us
anymore. I thank him profusely for his kindness and help. I work my way back up to
my bike and Josh. I ask Josh if he is ready to go, and he says yea, so I go to grab
my helmet. Wait a second, where is it? I set it down right there... I put it just uphill
of that fallen tree to keep it from rolling down the hill. Where in the hell is it!?! I
verify with Josh that I indeed did leave it there, and he assures me that I didn't take it
with me to his bike... Hmmm...David got back before us. Would he have come all the
way out here to steal my helmet!?!?! Surely NOT!!! I start wandering around
retracing my steps, wondering if I could have set it down somewhere else... Hey!
What’s that purple and orange thing over there? I start walking over there. As I get
closer, I start to realize that it is my helmet. That’s odd, I never walked over here.
Hey!!! How come the liner is out of the helmet, and hey, why is it all torn up!?!?! I
pick up the helmet, and start inspecting it, noting that there are what appears to be
fang marks in the Styrofoam on the inside of the helmet! What the fuuuuuu....!? I
pick up my liner. EWWWW!!! It's soggy! (I wasn't wearing it before either...) And
hey! Where in the hell are my gloves? Something with big huge fangs just tore up
my helmet, and STOLE MY FRIGGIN GLOVES!!!
Josh is laughing his ass off until I hand him my helmet and he sees the fang marks.
"Holy shit, that’s gotta be bear fangs.", he says. WOAH! I instantly and vividly
remember the warnings about being in bear country at the Mill Creek Trail head. Talk
about a time warp. And all that time last night, we were camped not more than 100
yards from this very spot. Freak out city. So in the 45 minutes or so that we were
not more than 1000 feet away getting Josh's bike, there was a bear back here
munching on my helmet. Lets get the hell outta here!
We get moving (me sans gloves and with bear slobber on my head). Ironically, the
forest was VERY easy to navigate for the last 2 tenths of a mile back to the trail.
Made us kick ourselves for not pushing on the rest of the way the night before. We
get back to the trail, and eventually, back to the truck. Josh loads his bike and drives
back to camp, while I grab a beer out of the cooler and sip on that while riding my bike
back down the fire road to camp. Man that was a good beer!
We slept the rest of the day, and woke up around dusk to make some dinner. A few
more beers around a BIG ASS FIRE and then back to bed. We went out for a ride on
Sunday. NO FREAKY TRAIL FINDING we both agreed this time. I got a flat so we
headed back and made a short day of it.
The poison ivy didn't start to kick in till Monday. I have it up and down both arms and
under one armpit. It was kinda miserable till I called my doctor and had him prescribe
me some steroids and some benadryl type stuff yesterday. Those steroids just rock
the house for healing the poison ivy FAST. If you are allergic to the stuff and you get
it, visit your doctor and get him to put you on some steroids. It makes life with
poison ivy bearable. My poison ivy is drying up real fast, and it doesn't itch at all
anymore. Oh yea, last night I was able to actually sleep on my left side, and getting
out of bed didn't have me wincing in pain.
Here are some pics of my helmet:
http://www.sunflower.com/~jahelka/b1small.jpg
http://www.sunflower.com/~jahelka/b2small.jpg
http://www.sunflower.com/~jahelka/b3small.jpg
http://www.sunflower.com/~jahelka/b6small.jpg
The fangs holes are about 1.75 inches apart, and they are pretty far into the helmet.
I imagine it took a pretty good-sized mouth to get in to the helmet that far. The
holes are about 3/8 to 1/2 inch deep.
Well, I'm off to the shop. Gotta pick up a new helmet liner, new gloves, and new
sprockets (busted 3 teeth on my rear sprocket last weekend). Oh yea, and I gotta
get another new tube to put in the front. Leaving for the Lead Belt National Enduro
tomorrow morning first thing. I'll try to get a SHORT ride report up on it sometime
next week. They are running us 100 miles!!! WEEE!!! I'm on row 10, so I'm sure I
will get to see more than a few of the national guys pass me.
Take care all and have a good weekend!
Brian "Purdy Dumb Boy" Jahelka
'02 KTM 200 EXC
