Day One of the Dirt 501

Three days of Montana Dirt

The Plan: L-Train, Rebelpacket, an XR600R, a KTM 625 SXC and 500 miles of unexplored dirt roads. Leave Friday evening, come home Sunday evening. A trip inspired by a certain ride report on ADVrider.com: 10 Days of Utah Desert Madness.

The Prep:
Ultra-Minimalist Camping protocol. We packed only what we'd absolutely need. Some instant food, aluminum foil to cook in, metal cups to drink/cook in, sporks, big knifes for cutting things, trowels and metal files to dig shit-holes in, tarps in case it rains, tools and tubes. Our only luxury item was flip-flops, because after a day in moto-boots, sometimes you need to let the feet air out.







Lincoln had scored some Voile straps, but every shop in town didn't have any when Alex went to buy some. These are ski straps recommended by our idol in ultralightness, Joe Motocross. Alex ended up having to use nylon cam-buckle straps, which proved to be a big-pain in the ass every time he needed to unload anything.

We did a basic check to make sure we had remembered everything, and took off into windy, cloud-filled skies.



Our route took us back behind Logan, which we refer to as "The Baja Training Route". Its a seldom-used road that has huge ruts, and generally nasty road changes. The Gallatin valley has had an unseasonable amount of rain, and the road was completely in shambles. This made things pretty interesting. After we got back there was a newspaper article about "the worst hailstorm ever" in Manhattan Montana....which damaged many county roads. Golf Ball Size Hailstones. Ouch. Last time we did this route flat-out at close to 70mph. With many miles, and two days ahead of us, and 3 ft deep crevasses and many big rocks in the road, we tamed it down to around 50mph.



We stopped just outside Logan to check everything over after the high-speed roost, and make sure nothing was loosening up... and... disaster! Our nights dinner; two steaks that had been dirtbike marinating in southwest sauce, had been forcibly ejected from Alex's wet bag, and were now lying on a trail somewhere, giving immense joy to some hungry coyotes...



No worries, we stopped at a store in three forks, and picked up some replacement steak. This time, we secured it in Lincoln's backpack, to be sure we wouldn't loose it. Some water and a few phone calls to family letting everyone know we'd be off in the wild for a few days, and we took off again. A few miles of pavement, and then we hit more ranch access roads.



The roads here, normally quite pleasant, were also completely wrecked. The previous night, golfball hail and torrental rains had washed away more of the road, and left a nice slick layer of silt and rock over everything.

On a lame, flat part that was covered with slick mud, Alex took a dirt-nap in the 625. This wouldn't be a big deal, except it bent the shifter up at a un-natural angle. We viewed this as a Good Thing, considering the last time he took a spill on the left side, the shifter snapped off cleanly. A couple minutes with a 8mm wrench, and some cleaning of the splines on the gearshift, and we were rolling again.