Sunday, March 02, 2008

Temptation explained, frustration refrained, success gained.


I don't know how many of you know what this is we are looking at here. It is the greatest temptation in these parts, full of great fishing, hiking, mt. biking, and lots of wildlife.

This is a picture of the promised land, with an open gate. Camp Bonneville. Located kiddie corner to the family compound, it has always called to me. While I cannot comfirm nor deny the existence of sweet trails, hillclimbs, fire roads and stocked trout ponds, I can confirm that you should in no way enter Camp Bonneville.

Hence my issue when standing in front of a legitimately open gate. A fire road turns right a mere ten feet inside the gate, and I know it winds around the SE side of the camp, but sadly brings you back around to the center of camp, where the trouble lies.

I had ridden my Fat Chance single speed Mt. Bike out there, with the intention of turning back around and riding home. But just seeing that taunting open gate put a fire under my burner the likes of which I had not felt in a while. I turned south, with intent, for if I wasn't going to be allowed to ride through the camp, I would just damn well ride around it.
" This is Livingston cemetery just east of the main gate to Bonneville."

After relaxing at the cemetery for a few minutes, I headed around the south side of the camp, somewhat remembering the layout of the roads. I was planning to go up the side of Livingston Mt., but ended up taking an earlier turn, in my quest to hit the dirt roads as soon as possibly.

Bradford Rd., on the way out, has nice, steep climbs, which really tested my gear ratio, choice being one of course. The turn I took uphill contained even steeper climbs, as turned to gravel sooner than expected. I was on Haddock road, just below where it runs into Livingston, and had reached my turn around time. I had to be in town to meet my parents, as I was dogsitting for them this weekend. I could see the houses on top of Livingston Mt., which meant that the fire road across to Larch Mt. was just beyond today's reach.

I adjusted my brakes, and turned down hill, for a great, fast downhill experience. The ride back down Livingston and Bradford was exhilarating, and I was back in Hockinson in what seemed to be no time at all.

I went home and vowed to return in mere days, and conquering the shoulder of Larch and Silver Star Mts, circumnavigating the promised land of Camp Bonneville.

I

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