Tag: dualsport

Just a Girl And Her KTM in the Forest

Just a Girl And Her KTM in the Forest

Last weekend I did my first solo riding in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey on the KTM. Up to that point, my riding in the Pines had always been with friends. But when you’re a boat anchor, you have to know when to cut the tether and let everyone else float away. It’s no fun to feel like you’re holding people up and it’s no fun for them to be held up. That’s how I found myself moseyin’ around in the forest on my own.

The games that we play with ourselves to deal with feeling unsure are funny. I happily ride alone most of the time. But I reasoned that if I was going to be in the forest, I needed to keep myself in places where I could easily relay my location if I needed help. It sounds funny now when I type it out – I wasn’t in Siberia or anything. But the mind works in mysterious ways sometimes.

Following the easy extraction plan meant keeping mostly to roads that had names that I could read on my Zumo 660 GPS. It has only road maps loaded.

When you’re in Wharton State Forest (if you are unfamiliar with the area) you might be surprised what constitutes a road. It can often be a sandy 2-track affair, covered in pine needles, encroaching branches and looks like nothing has traveled on it for years. And yet, glancing at the GPS you’ll find yourself Traveling on X Road.

Granted, in more rural areas than south Jersey maybe you’re used to 2 track forest roads. Not quite as common here in congestion-land.

All in all my first ride alone in the forest was pretty awesome. I got to stop and take pictures, lollygag while looking at trees and streams and the light filtering through – it was exactly what I love about road riding alone. I can hardly wait find myself there amongst the pines again.

Every time that I ride the 690, I am acutely aware of what a great decision it was to buy it. Why did I wait so long?

Ride it, Baby. Ride it. Giddyup!

Ride it, Baby. Ride it. Giddyup!

This is just a silly little video clip from a ride I did in the pine barrens of south Jersey with my friend Gary last week.

https://www.facebook.com/Fuzzygalore.com.GirlieMotorcycleBlog/posts/10153285255875222

Because of the way that video seems to flatten everything out, you don’t really see what the terrain was like. The profile of this particular sand road is something along the line of the inside of an egg carton or the edges a lasagna noodle. They call ’em whoop-di-dos or whoops. You can get some idea of what they’re like by watching Gary’s front fender bobbing up and down.

Though Gary is a zippy singletrack rider, he also takes time out to ride with slugs like me. We call these slow rides our “unicorn hunting” rides. Hell, we’ll even stop and take pictures sometimes. He is incredibly patient with my silliness.

When we ride together, we link up on our Sena headsets and chit-chat all day. That seems to help keep me from thinking about riding.  Plus, he lets me know if Bigfoot is in the road up ahead or anything. The GoPro seems to pick up our conversations very well…

Ride it, baby. Ride it. Giddyup!

Words to live by.

 

Finding the Weird in the Woods

Finding the Weird in the Woods

fuzzygalore weird in the woods

Dang it! Yeah, I’m a little bummed that the picture came out blurry but it’ll have to do. Considering what I pay my flying helper monkeys, I can’t complain.

I’m not sure why there were WEIRD signs up in the woods but it seemed fitting that we stop for a photo.

Weird

[weerd]

adjective, weirder, weirdest.
1.
involving or suggesting the supernatural; unearthly or uncanny:
a weird sound; weird lights.
2.
fantastic; bizarre:
a weird getup.
3.
Archaic. concerned with or controlling fate or destiny.
noun, Chiefly Scot.
4.
fate; destiny.
5.
fate (def 6).

Hmm, I’ll take door number 2.

Everything You’ve Heard to the Contrary is a Lie – Size Matters

Everything You’ve Heard to the Contrary is a Lie – Size Matters

fuzzygalore husqvarna te310
Two weeks ago, my little Husky got some much needed lovin’ thanks to my one man pit crew. It’s really a nice service, you should try it. All you have to do is marry some dude that loves motorcycles too and stuff just shows up in the garage. He’s like the Tooth Fairy but for motorcycles. (And will also probably smother me with a pillow for calling him a fairy.)

fuzzygalore new knobbies

New beefy hoops replaced the old shagged out knobblies.

fuzzygalore new husqvarna seat

And… TA DA! I have a new seat. Now to the untrained eye this seat probably looks just like the old seat. But, this seat is a magic seat. It is full of kittens and rainbows and doesn’t cut into your bum the way the stocker did. The result? Your ass is not on fire after 50 miles.

Aside from making a world of difference comfort-wise this little number has bought me about 3/4 of an inch in height. When you’re barely able to touch the ground with both feet at the same time, that’s huge.

Though my wee Husky is already lowered an inch with a Koubalink, generally speaking I kind of have to shift one foot to the other for solid footing. But I’ve found that I don’t have to shift quite as much now. I can get my toes on the ground with one foot and kinda tippy toe with the other for stability. Size matters!

 

The Eyes are the Window to Your Soul. Or Something.

The Eyes are the Window to Your Soul. Or Something.

fuzzygalore goggle selfie

On Saturday afternoon while doing the Meteor dualsport in south Jersey, we stopped at about the half-way point of the ride to get gas at a small gas station. When Gary and I pulled in there were probably 20 other motorcycles already there filling up.

Because New Jersey doesn’t allow you to pump your own gas (technically) you have some type of interaction with a pump attendant. In my case, he pushed the button, handed me the nozzle and then took my money at the end.  I was one of dozens of motorcyclists that passed through the station that day.

Hours later after packing up my bike and shedding my stormtrooper gear I washed my face, put on my baseball hat and pointed the Ridgeline towards home. My first stop before hitting the highway was filling up the truck. The first available gas station? The one I’d stopped at with my bike.

I pulled up to the pump, the (same) guy walks up to my window to take my card and says something like “Oh, you’re back. You were here earlier.”

Hmm.

Now… I have a way better chance of recognizing the same guy, in the same clothes, at the same gas station than he did me. But he recognized me out of a helmet, different clothes, in a baseball hat, in a car. How? I saw dozens of other riders throughout the day and I don’t think I’d know a single one without a helmet on.

What is it that allows us to really “see” and recognize people? Is it really the eyes?

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