Brother Ride 2018

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Part 3 of 4:

Rocky Ridge Lake

August 19, 2018

We had to come farther down the motorway than planned to find an available campsite, putting us much closer to the night three lake than planned. It still ends up being a ride we’re glad to be done with when finally we pull into the empty campground.

Hairpin
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Hairpin
http://flickr.com/photos/trailimage/44674110652

In spite of no water white noise, we sleep fairly well again before crawling out of our matching tents to fire up our three matching Jetboil stoves for coffee, banter and maybe oatmeal.

The day is dry and bright before we make our way down from panoramic Indian Point to continue on the Lolo Motorway in the tracks of Lewis and Clark.

Signs
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Signs
http://flickr.com/photos/trailimage/44005963934

It doesn’t seem like eight years have passed since we last rode here. Most sights are exactly as I recall,¹ as if it was just last week when we visited.

  1. I later looked up an old picture from exactly this spot and the signs actually are substantially changed — so much for memory.
Beatings will continue
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Beatings will continue
http://flickr.com/photos/trailimage/29787018887

This section of the motorway is especially bumpy. Not fun bumps, like the road up to Burnt Knob on Friday, but jarring. Last time we rode this I noticed “twelve and fifteen miles-per-hour were sometimes teeth rattling speeds.”¹ I wish now I had dropped tire pressure this morning. It would have made the day’s ride more pleasant.

  1. Trail Image, “Brother Ride 2010: Cayuse Creek”: trailimage.com/…/cayuse-creek
Down there
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Down there
http://flickr.com/photos/trailimage/44005974564

When the turn to Rocky Ridge Lake appears, I find I’m quite ready to call it a day.

All to ourselves
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All to ourselves
http://flickr.com/photos/trailimage/44723488451

The campground is empty — ideal. We circle around the available spots and settle on the one with the best lake access.

Welcome
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Welcome
http://flickr.com/photos/trailimage/44723492911
In for maintenance
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In for maintenance
http://flickr.com/photos/trailimage/29787040417

Joel and I both need to tighten a mirror after bumping it loose. Information for non-riders: the mirrors on these bikes are threaded into a nut that is in turn reverse threaded into the handlebar mount so it can break loose in either direction. That’s nice to keep anything from truly breaking but often means you need a pair of wrenches to tighten it back up.

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mapmap http://flickr.com/photos/trailimage/30547153778

Jeremy has the right idea. Joel and I soon fall in line when we see him set quietly in the sun at the lake’s shimmering edge.

Sunlit
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Sunlit
http://flickr.com/photos/trailimage/30853258268

I take pleasure in walking methodically around a place, pausing to ponder delicate patterns and enchanting microcosms. It doesn’t feel like I’ve really seen a place if I haven’t had a chance to discern its fine textures.

Bough breaks
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Bough breaks
http://flickr.com/photos/trailimage/44723502501

“There’s an in-hole and out-hole so it’s probably their butts,” Joel proposes.

We are watching inchworms descend from branches over our heads, noticing both ends look the same, joking about which end produces the silk.

Going their own way
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Going their own way
http://flickr.com/photos/trailimage/44723507141

Jeremy has three remaining beers we’re trying to chill in the warm lake water for later celebration.

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mapmap http://flickr.com/photos/trailimage/43814875405
Boutique
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Boutique
http://flickr.com/photos/trailimage/44723513611
Invisible
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Invisible
http://flickr.com/photos/trailimage/30853279998

“Here’s a big one,” Jeremy lets me know.

“I don’t think it believes we can see it,” I suggest as I kneel closer and closer to a big frog after its smaller cousins quickly hopped away.

Bath time
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Bath time
http://flickr.com/photos/trailimage/30853284798

As luck requires, a dad with his wife and two young kids arrives with fishing poles just as we’re beginning to bathe. He looks askance our direction to confirm, I suspect, there’s nothing he’ll need to hide their eyes from.

Romance
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Romance
http://flickr.com/photos/trailimage/44723530201
Hope springs
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Hope springs
http://flickr.com/photos/trailimage/29787074877
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Jet ski
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Jet ski
http://flickr.com/photos/trailimage/30853299528

Jeremy gets the logical idea to attempt climbing aboard our former soap holder log. It goes as expected.

Portal
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Portal
http://flickr.com/photos/trailimage/29787084697
Verde
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Verde
http://flickr.com/photos/trailimage/42914185820
Logging
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Logging
http://flickr.com/photos/trailimage/42914191220

After an apparently busy weekend, the nearby forest is picked clean of deadfall. Ever effectual Jeremy scavenges far and wide for our evening fire fodder.

Freckles
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Freckles
http://flickr.com/photos/trailimage/42914196670
Seventy-five-percent
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Seventy-five-percent
http://flickr.com/photos/trailimage/42914201680

The fishing family has left. We are bathed. Wood is stacked. Whiskey is poured. Music is playing. We sit around the fire ring laughing, scheming, cajoling, interrupted only by a dive bombing bird trying to take out Jeremy’s eye. Whatever he did to get these logs wasn’t well received by the avian community.

Night lights
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Night lights
http://flickr.com/photos/trailimage/44674238642

“Are you going to put your fly on?” my brothers ask as darkness falls.

“I was hot last night,” I answer. My tent is set up with just the netting walls and top; no rain fly. Their ongoing remarks finally have the intended effect. Now I feel paranoid. I reluctantly stretch the fly into place, expecting I’ll have my retort when we awake to the same dusty ground.