Based on the net version, this was edited for content, description, clarity and net-specific references. It was published in the June 1995 BMW MOA Owner's News.
Though it was also edited for length, this version ended up longer than the original!
The Ridgerunner 500 '94 started out as something of a dare.
I complained to my friend Dave Doudna that I'd like to do this year's RR500 dual-sport ride, but didn't have a bike. Dave chided, what about the R80 G/S you just bought? I said, "Sure Dave, you ride the RR500 on a GS, go right ahead!!" This led to, "hmmm, on second thought..." Soon Dave (R100GS) had riding pals Doug Merriman (R100GS), David Mischel (R80 G/S) and Bob Pasker (R100GS) hooked on the insane idea. Bob reconsidered the wisdom of riding his R100GS and brought his Honda XL350 instead.
The RR500 is an annual October ride that starts and ends in Angel's Camp CA, in the Sierra foothills, with an overnight stop in Carson City NV. The Ridgerunner Motorcycle Club (RRMC) provides riders with a rollchart, luggage transport, a sweep crew, a welcome hot lunch both days; as well as Honda and Suzuki support trucks at the lunchstop, and even volunteer rescue Jeeps. It's a fabulous, beautiful ride over terrain that would ordinarily be difficult and risky to navigate alone, and the RRMC lets you forget concerns of food, luggage, support, choosing a route, getting lost or stranded; so you can concentrate on just the riding and the scenery.
The RR500 gains about 60-70 riders every year, with a maximum of 400. This year there was a record 370 (with 10 BMWs, and 10 women riders). The vast majority bring Honda XR/XLs, Suzuki DRs, Yamaha XTs and street-legalized dirt bikes, with a smattering of more street-oriented dual-sports like Kawasaki KLR650s and BMWs.
Other than a few rides on dirt bikes, including the RR500 '93 on a borrowed Yamaha XT200, most of my dirt experience was on my R65LS, usually puttering along behind friends on R100GSs. After a trip in to Baja with my boyfriend (on his R100GS/PD), the R65 needed so much repair that it was finally time for my own G/S. Given my 5'1", 110lb size, I'd settled long ago on the light, manageable R80 G/S (381 lb dry weight) instead of the R100GS (434 lb dry weight).
In July, a friend on the Internet found me a no-frills 1981 R80 G/S for $2300 in Portland. Its bright canary-yellow paint led immediately to the name Tweety Bike. Tweety's dirt debut was the weekend before the RR500, a pre-ride in the Mendocino National Forest. Despite leaky fork caps and occasional master cylinder failure, I was delighted with the dirt manners of the 21" front wheel, endless torque and wide handlebars, and was ready to face the RR500.
Is a GS suited for a dual-sport ride like the RR500? I believe it largely depends on your expectations. A GS is not a "true" dirt bike, but you can't expect it to be. It's pointless to compare its offroad abilities to those of a Honda XR600R, since they're different types of bikes. We agreed to stick to the easier routes, give ourselves a lot of time, do the best we could, and have a great weekend dirt-riding our BMWs.
This year there were no A and B routes; rather it was the Route and the (paved) Bailouts. We discussed the route with several friendly Ridgerunners, who advised us to bypass certain sections that might be impassable or too time-consuming on a GS. None of us were desert racers or expert riders, and this was only Doug's third time in dirt (brave guy!). We'd ride the entire course the first day, and skip a few sections on the second day.
One of the Ridgerunners must have sold his soul for clear skies, because we couldn't have asked for better conditions. A storm had passed through the Sierras the previous weekend, dumping up to a foot of snow in higher elevations. By the time of the RR500, there was little mud, and the moisture mercifully kept the blinding dust down. It was warm without being hot and the weather was perfect.
Saturday morning's startpoint was full of excitement and activity. Many riders were on their way before it was light enough to read the rollcharts! One couple trucked in an R100GS/PD, and at first we sniffed that they could at least have ridden the BMW here. It turned out these two were Eric and Gail Haws of Eugene OR, who have done some incredible trips, one across Siberia where there were no gas stations and another in Iceland. Later they had to drop out due to a charging system problem.
We had to leave Bob behind in the first 5 miles since his XL350 was stalling and he thought he might have bad gas. When Bob caught up with us later, he admitted that he'd totally spaced out and had NO gas!
The first section was long, 100 miles of dirt over Forest Service and logging roads. A perfect warmup, it was scenic and entertaining without being terribly difficult. Soon into the ride, we buddied up, Dave and David being the faster riders and Doug and I the slower (later joined by Bob). One muddy spot resulted in a sudden slideout and miraculous save by Doug, and my fixated observation of this event resulted in an almost exact repeat. We also came across a downed rider who'd been knocked out, but was conscious when we arrived. A Ridgerunner sweep was there, so we left him in good hands.
So far, so good. We found a long line at the first gas stop, but the super-organized Ridgerunners had someone there manning the pumps to keep the line moving. Doug decided to bail the next dirt section and go straight to lunch, so Bob and I got gas and went the dirt way, guaranteeing a long, long time to lunch, 130 dirt miles and 50 street miles from the startpoint. The Ridgerunners say they'll change that next year.
That afternoon, things got looser, rockier and steeper in the forested second section. In one particularly tight and loose-surface corner, I hesitated, stalled the engine and dropped my bike at a dead stop. Later, when Bob and I caught Dave, David and Doug at lunch, David's bent right mirror told a similar story, on the same road. I'd ridden that road before, uphill on last year's RR500, and once last summer downhill on my R65! I'd had the least amount of trouble on the R65, but then the surface was much harder-packed. Time, weather and hundreds of riders roosting over it made the narrow, treelined road deep in loose earth scattered with small rocks.
Gravel and poor-pavement Forest Service roads punctuated by a long, tiring incline of large embedded rocks put us back on pavement, followed by spectacular snow-capped mountain scenery over CA Hwy 88. 50 miles of altogether tolerable pavement later, we arrived at the Turtle Rock campground near Markleeville for a well-deserved lunch.
Unfortunately, due to logging, the Forest Service revoked the Ridgerunner's permit to ride the fantastic Tahoe Rim trail, so after lunch we were re-routed straight to the last dirt section. This was a wonderful trail: narrow, with wide views of the desert, moistly sandy in spots, with rocks and gravel in others, and mudholes in tight corners. These muddy corners certainly were interesting! I went through them slowly and deliberately, praising my G/S's low-down power that was always there when I didn't have time or brainpower to downshift.
Doug was swarmed by roosting dirt riders in one corner, forcing his GS down and nearly running over his helmet (later they apologized profusely). I was embarrassed by a couple two-up on a Honda TransAlp who whizzed right by. Hey, slow down, that's not a real dual-sport bike! There were several two-up pairs, and the passengers didn't seem to slow down the riders at all.
We got to Carson City before dark, checked in and picked up our RR500 T-shirts. Dinner was at a casino, subsidized by a surprise $10 winnings from a game of Keno. Fired up by our fortune, we tried again a few times in vain, but managed to escape early with our shirts on.
Sunday morning, Doug decided to sleep in and skip the dirt. The rest of us also "slept in," to the late hour of 6am, since we knew we'd bypass sections today. Check-in for both days was 6am-8am, and by 7am over half of the riders were already out.
I expected Sunday's first section to be a fast ride on straight desert roads, and was not prepared for the onslaught of rocks that proved to be the most technical section we covered on the whole ride. Immediately rocky and rough, the dry, open road had me on the pegs, wide-eyed and at full attention, wondering how my long-gone GS companions could go so fast. David later commented that Dave rides like a gentleman: composed, and usually seated. I noticed most of the dirt riders roosting by were seated as well, and decided to blame 5% of my slowness on an untuned suspension. Tweety's shock is the squeaky old original, and I'd overfilled a fork tube by not pumping out the old oil (this happens when you have a "new" motorcycle and haven't shaken everything out yet).
Fortunately, two days of Baja dirt roads on a loaded-down R65 afflicted with severe hydraulic lock in the forks had long since exorcised my brain-strangling fear of rocks. Unlike sand and mud, at least rocks have traction. I picked my way around them, BMW-style, trusting my large front wheel for the ones I had to hit head-on, not daring to lose momentum. A better suspension setup might have made me more comfortable, but probably not much faster. Tired but far from beaten, I caught up to the others at a reset point in front of the Como ruins, and we indulged in a pose photo shoot.
A Jeep, a string of Honda flags and a Ridgerunner volunteer marked our bail-out from 7 miles of boulders and we noticed the other GS's also wisely avoiding this as well. One of the GS riders I recognized from last year, and this year he was riding the trails with BMW hard cases! The bail-out took us to a checkpoint and gas. We all blew off the gas, but of course, Bob's XL350 went on reserve 10 miles later. We had to chuckle at this second chapter of the "Bob Gets Gas" story. Luckily he made it to the lunch stop where he was able to get gas.
Levithian Mine Road crosses the Nevada/California border and led us to a maze of unpaved Forest Service roads, making for a beautiful and fun ride across a mountain range. Most of the road was dry, but steep with tight corners and occasional challenging muddy sections from melting snow that were always just after a corner. I prayed not to be passed in the midst of these. As it was, I was already watching my mirror carefully for headlights and would slow down and wave the roost-guys by -- but not in those mud patches!
Through the mud I poked along as smoothly as possible, keeping the bike in 2nd gear, using the rear brake and sometimes slipping the clutch, dangling my left foot to catch just in case. A beginner-on-BMW-in-mud thing, I guess, since the real dirt riders would blast through as though it was paved. I had to remind myself to breathe after a mud patch, but overall, this section was one of the most enjoyable on the ride.
There is nothing like a wonderful hot lunch in the middle of a ride, and Ridgerunners came through again with a fortifying lunch of barbeque tri-tip, potato salad and apples (nice touch). After lunch, we skipped a tough section per Ridgerunner advice, and then went on to ride yesterday's second section in the opposite direction. Even though I'd already ridden this road several times, I was nervous about it since it was loose, deep and uphill. Unlike most riders, most every dirt crash, drop and close call I've ever had has been uphill!
Again, my G/S's big front wheel, ever-present torque and Gripster tires quelled my apprehensions until I came around a corner and saw David standing in the woods. He'd been having lots of fun, it seemed! He was unhurt, but his R80 G/S was nearly vertical off a steep embankment over the side of the road. True to the RR500 spirit, other riders stopped immediately and in no time 6 guys hauled the Beemer back on the road while I helpfully snapped photos. A broken luggage rack was the only casualty, and his G/S started right up.
Luckily for me, this slowed David down somewhat, so he was able to see when I got stuck in the SAME sharp, steep, torn-up corner in which I had dropped the bike the day before. Losing momentum and stopping on a terrible line was my mistake, and my timid attempt to get going resulted in a downhill drop. Well, now I can say that I've picked up my G/S by myself. Fear had won \*- I should have pegged it and counted on the bike to pull me out. David arrived and talked me through positioning the bike for a straight exit, and with coaching I finally got through that corner.
After that dumb drop, I was mad at the mountain. I stayed on the pegs and aggressively tackled every curve, hill, mud patch and section of loose rocks at a steady speed, without hesitation and with an I-dare-you-to-defy-me attitude. This worked much better than my previous ohShit ohShit state of mind! It reinforced my growing realization that a huge factor in riding, especially dirt, is a positive and aggressive attitude.
David also relaxed after his "offroad" excursion, and we made our way through the steep, twisty forest trails without so much as a close call, choosing lines and negotiating obstacles with confidence. Though the dirt was loose, it offered consistent and predictable traction, and actually wasn't hard if ridden boldly. This was a blast! I ate up every contour of the road with determined glee, feeling at one with my motorcycle; and was disappointed to emerge from the forest onto a paved road. Comparing notes, Dave said he'd also stopped in "my" corner and came close to ruining his no-drop weekend, but squeaked his way out of it. Dave and Bob remained vertical all weekend.
The rest was easy gravel roads and 30 miles of pavement, taking our elated crew to the last checkpoint in Angel's Camp. We'd done it!! We'd ridden the Ridgerunner 500 on our BMWs! And we had a terrific, fantastic time doing it!
We checked in, reclaimed and packed our luggage and prepared for the ride home. So much for laughing at people who'd arrived in four-wheeled vehicles. They had the last laugh -- we now had to ride 130 miles home! Bob left before Dave, David and myself, but later we caught him on the side of the road putting his XL350's gas into the Trooper. "You're never going to believe this," he said, "but I have no idea how much gas I have in the car!" The gauge had recently broken. The epilogue of "Bob Gets Gas!"
While relaxing and shmoozing in Angel's Camp, many riders said to us, "Hats off to you guys, I wouldn't want to wrestle that Beemer in the dirt." Wrestle? You don't "wrestle" a GS, at least, I don't! I will never have the size and strength to muscle my G/S. A GS in dirt is a different experience than a dirtbike -- but both can be fun, and both can be work, only different types and in different amounts. Granted, GS-type fun doesn't appeal to the vast majority of dual-sporters on the RR500, but I'd never say that I had "less" fun on the G/S than on the dirt bike I rode last year. I'll take all kinds of fun. My only regret was that we had to skip certain sections, but I came away just as thrilled as last year, and filled with new confidence. I'd much rather have been out there on my G/S than at home wishing I had a "real" dirt bike.
(A personal note of triumph was that I didn't get one comment about how on earth someone my size can handle a bike as tall as a G/S. Not that I mind these comments, but it was interesting that no one noticed. Indeed, the height disparity was obscured by disbelief that we'd brought BMWs at all. At first, I wasn't sure about one-footing the G/S in dirt, but in fact my greatest handicaps are lack of strength and aggression; not lack of inseam. Anyway, I am so pleased with my G/S that I don't even care about the short factor anymore. And I am relieved to retire my embattled R65 from dirt duty.)
I've ridden two RR500's now, and both will go down as lifetime highlights. If you're thinking about dual-sporting, consider the RR500. And don't stay at home just because your only dual-sport bike is a GS.
November 10, 1994
My thanks to Kari Prager of Cal BMW and to mi cielo Doug (a different Doug than in the story) for editing and comments.
Back to Ridgerunner 500 1994.