Hut 4 to Hut 5

We finished with breakfast, packed our stuff and started out on the trail. We had not left the ranch and we had our first mechanical. It was more like a camelback-ical. Mark's pack was leaking so a couple in the group ventured off while several others stayed behind. We got the lead group on the radios and advised them of the situation, they decided to forge ahead and would meet us at the next turn off.

Ten minutes later we were on the climb out of the ranch. Mark, Dave, Skip, Rod and I. As we progressed up the hill we heard Skip give a loud F(*&, it was followed up by another F(&* and another. Not sure what the situation was the four of us turned back to see Skip standing in the middle of the road with his bike. Turns out he had stopped to adjust his seat and in the process broke his seat clamp. Yup, middle of nowhere and the seat clamp was broken. What kind of mechanical was that?!?! Fortunately Skip had just about everything is his pack. After a couple quick phrases of "please let there be one in here" he pulled out a seat clamp. It was like the heaven parted and angels sang out to us. That was until he went to put it on the bike. It was too small, so we sent Rod up to get the others and see if they had a clamp. What happens when you have 2 engineers, and 2 guys who love to tinker with stuff? We took the seat post clamp and an assortment of bolts, nuts and allen wrenches trying to bend and pry the clamp to get it to fit. We finally got it on the frame, but the spread in the clamp was so wide that we could not get a bolt through it. After a few choice explanatives Mike came flying down the road with an extra seat post clamp Al had packed. It fit and in minutes we were back on our way. I think if we learned one thing from that experience it was that we really needed to stick together as a group more than ever.

About an hour in to the ride we were faced with the decision regarding the single track. I was reluctant to do the single track because of my mending collarbone, and the rack on my bike caused the bike to handle like a small boat in a hurricane. The majority of the group wanted to do the single track so I figured what the hell, I'd rather do it and not like it, than wonder what it would have been like. The trail started out as a beautiful single track meandering through the woods and hills. It was so surreal and satisfying. Then the trail became real rocky and rutty. It was to the point where I just figured I'd walk it rather than risk injury to myself. On a couple of occasions we had to take a group consensus on where to go. Each person tried to remember a piece of what Tam and the grader operators were telling us. Was it stay on the left of the crick (creek) or cross over it in the open field. Is this an open field? Is that the crick? Was that supposed to be the hike-a-bike? Where the hell are we....? After debating the direction we needed to head in we forged ahead. The trial opened up and the games began. Bumping along, jumping rocks and stumps having a good ol' time. This was way more fun than climbing a fire road. Then we came to another stop and had a "process check". Do we know where we are? Where we are going? What's the map say? This set us back about 45 minutes. Several of us took shelter from the sun while the others debated the direction we needed to go. When everyone agreed on the direction we jumped on the bikes only to have Mike say his front brake was locked again. Thanks Hayes. Mark and Lawrence once again tried to fix the brake but could not do it. The conclusion was that the piston in the handle was locked in place and could not be moved. We only had one choice, remove the brake and leave Mike without a front brake. Mike was OK with that so we spent a couple more minutes removing the brake. Rolling again got out of the rocky stuff and in to some wide open trails. The kind of stuff you can fly through and bounce off of. Our trail ended in a "T". Everyone was pretty sure we were supposed to go to the left, so that's the road we took. Again sprinting, bouncing, jumping along a two track road we had a small climb and another "T in the road. This time we are not too sure which way to go. Was it left at the last turn or left at this one? Tam said something about making a turn that would logically be the right one, but would actually put us in the wrong direction. What to do? The left lead down hill, we were supposed to descend in to Gateway, the right was more climbing. Down seemed right because we had to descend. Where the hell were those cowboys and their F150s flying down the road when you needed them. So we decided to send scouts out in either direction; Rod to the right, and Skip to the left. We kept in radio contact as long as we could. They both went off in their directions and returned about 30 minutes later. Neither one could give a definite answer on which way to go. It was now about 2:00, our water was low and we were not sure where to go. After checking the map several people were confident that the road to the right was the answer.

Sure enough it was about 20 minutes after we decided to go right that we saw a sign telling us Gateway and Hwy 141 were down the hill. In this circumstance down the hill was a screaming down hill. Gravel road like the rest of the trails, but the descent was about 2000 feet over a 6 mile run. The bikes were going so fast and we were on the brakes so hard you could smell the burning disk pads as we descended the hill. The only pads we didn't smell were Mike's. Why? because we had removed his front brake because of the malfunction. Mike would ride the bike dragging his feet to slow the bike. By the time we hit the bottom of the hill you could see he was not a happy camper.

Once down the hill we transitioned to a paved road that took us straight in to gateway. The group formed a pace line so we could pedal with some efficiency since most of us were either out of water or very low. Gateway has got to be the smallest town I have ever been in. It literally consisted of 5 buildings. The first was a combination restaurant/store/hotel, the next was the school, then there was the post office/library, a vehicle maintenance yard and last but not least the bar.

The first stop was the restaurant. This was the first cooked meal we had in days that did not consist of canned meat like products. I can't begin to describe the simple pleasure derived from eating a hamburger and onion rings then washing it all down with an ice cold Coke. While most of the group ate in the dinner, Al and I went to the post office to pick up the package we mailed ourselves. Not knowing what to expect on the trip we had mailed ourselves some Powerbars, gel, Cytomax and snacks. I also mailed myself another jersey and shorts. After  taking what I wanted/needed I did a quick assessment of what I no longer needed and sent about 11 pounds of gear back home. I knew the next day was going to be the toughest and I wanted to be as light as possible. Al managed to send home about 9 pounds of extra stuff, and the others chose not to send anything back.

With our bellies full and our thirsts quenched we jumped back on the bikes and headed off for the hut. It was less than a mile from the restaurant and bar so in no time we were choosing beds and changing out of our riding gear. 

With the exception of hut 1, this hut and the town of Gateway had to have the most beautiful scenery. Mark and Lawrence  started to work on Mike's brakes. To make a long story short it took them a couple hours but the completely disassembled the brake lever removing the smallest of clips, cleaned the piston and other parts and reassembled the unit. The brakes are hydraulic, and we knew we didn't have fluid so earlier in the day we asked one of the locals in the restaurant if he could help scavenge some fluid for us. Sure enough as Mark and Lawrence were completing the brake system Mark rode back in to town and the guy had some fluid for us. They bled the brakes and according to Mike, "The world was right again".

While Mark and Lawrence worked on the brakes a couple of us rode in to town to check out the locals in the bar and grab a Coke. For 50 cents a piece we drank Cokes, ate a $5.00 pizza and reminisced about the days activities. We were in to our second Coke when Al called on the radio telling us to check our tires. The road to the hut was covered in Goat's Heads, a small bur, and several people had flats. Luckily those of us at the bar managed to avoid the Goat's Heads...until we rode back to the hut.

Needless to say the next morning got off to a slow start due to the number of flats picked up from the ride back from the bar in the dark!

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