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Dual Sport to Conecuh NF

Started by Gam, January 06, 2018, 08:49:39 AM

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Gam

The southernmost portion of that dual sport route I posted on the old board is Open Pond Recreation Area in the Conecuh National Forest. That's about 8 miles from the Florida border. The Conecuh NF is reptile and amphibian headquarters.  The rolling long leaf pine forest is home to Diamond Backs, Timber rattlers, Coral snakes, Water Moccasins, Copperheads, and Alligators.   Some 105 species of such critters.  Bart and I thought we would reach it last year from the eastern side, but we didn't come close, we made it below Ariton and had to turn around, too much dirt and  not enough time.  I don't plan on reposting that route until I have ridden the whole thing, there are always gated sections and impassible obstacles that have to be rerouted. 
Also, I am not an ego maniac, I lost my camera along the way, that's why the people pics are of me, these are from Clay's cell phone.

This time we decided to start at Paul Grist and head south toward warmer weather.  We camped on the dam, I don't think it was legal, but nobody was there and there was a fire ring.
Clay is an excellent musician and he can play any sort of music, but his true calling is the blues http://blues.gr/profiles/blogs/powerhouse-pianist-clay-swafford-talks-about-the-expression-of. I knew if I start singing "Little Red Corvette" he would go look for firewood:


It worked, but the fire really didn't want to cooperate, my Alabama Gazetteer was starting to come loose at the staples from fanning the flames, so we hit the sack early. This is the only time we even fooled with a fire.


We didn't come out of our sleeping bags until the sun hit our tents. It was cold, the heated bathhouse was like the Paris Hilton.  I was a little nervous about the first section of dirt, basecamp simply described it as "road" and you could see the ruts from Google Earth. This whole route is more fun on small bikes, but the KLR has an outlet for my heated jacket so I wanted ride that, and I wasn't going to have Clay be on a small bike and me on a big one. You know how that goes.... you come around a corner and the guy on the small bike is on the other side on some sort of crap and he says "Come on, there's nothing to it. " and the next the you know,  you need wrecker to extract your big pig.  I wanted our "adventure mindset" to be the same.  Well the first dirt did not look promising:


In spite of the way it looked, traction was good, muddy in the valleys,  fairly dry on the ridges.


We stopped at Marion Junction for gas and food.  We contemplated the Coke sign as we sat on a board in the gravel parking lot eating Hunt's Pizza and corndogs


More dirt after lunch






For some reason I thought the ferry at Gee's Bend was no longer operating but after I got home, it appears to still be functioning. Anyhow, I routed around that, and  I think this is where I lost my camera, right here at the Alberta Post Office.


Another interesting Coke sign


A long chunk of dirt turned out to be gated, so another reroute was in order.  People are getting away with gating public roads, first the single track disappeared, now the dirt roads.  We wound up in Camden, and it was obvious we weren't going to get to Open Pond  that day, so we diverted to Isaac Creek Campground. This is a Corps of Engineers campground on the Alabama River and it is excellent. This is a great destination for big road bikes. Even the entrance to each campsite is paved. All the campsites are on the water.  Great bathhouse, somewhere along the way I ate a couple of Tornadoes, those round, Mexican looking things on the roller grill. By the time we reached Isaac Creek, the Tornadoes were at F5 on the Fujita Scale.  It was cold, and we were tired, we crawled in out tents right after the sun went down.


We were up early the next morning....figuring out where we were



Clay had been there before and knew where the closest country store was located. The store even had a library. We shot the bull with the locals for about half an hour, they were all sure we were going to die as rain and a hard freeze were coming in.



Up to this point we had been riding the sort of dirt I was used to riding. People say "oh you get down there and it will nothing but sand" ...not true, we only hit about 100 yards of sand the whole trip, more on that later.  A lot of this stuff looked like groomed flat track.  What I would have given to be on a small bike (with a heated jacket).




We came to a place where the route crossed a creek.  It high and swift, I knew there was a road on the other side, but I didn't see any indication of a crossing. No tracks at all.  We really weren't in the mood to take a full dunking in this weather, so Clay suggested we go back to that "ghost town" and figure out what to do.


It wasn't really a ghost town, just a mostly abandoned town.




As I sat there with the gazetteer, and Clay started poking around in places he shouldn't be, the sound of a trumpet drifted down the empty street.  The tone was good, but the trumpeteer wasn't playing a song, just juxtaposed notes. Well any student of horror movies knows that this sort of thing is a prelude to evil.  If you heed the warning, and get out of there, you will be safe.  If you ignore or laugh at the warning, then don't be surprised when a friendly stranger offers you a warm drink and you wake up inside the Wicker Man.


I found a spot where we could get back on route and we high tailed it.


The dirt roads were great, but for one small section of 100 yards or so


I got through and looked in my rear view mirror and Clay was down, his leg pinned by that giant loaded down pig and he was thrashing like he was caught in a bear trap.  *&^%, broken leg is what I was thinking as I ran back down the road. I managed to lift the bike enough for him to get his leg out, and it was still working, not too good, but not broken.
BMW sand nap.



We rode dirt roads for what seemed like forever, we were ready to get off it by the time we got to Open Pond.  There is only one verified alligator attach in Open Pond, a gator severed a man's arm.  They were pretty sure they killed the culprit as he had an arm in his stomach.


It was warm down there, relatively speaking, but we knew the further north we traveled the worse things would get. The original plan was to continue the route and reach the point where Bart and I left off.  But we needed to be further North than that New Year's Eve.  I was looking at route to Cheaha that was not that close to I65.  Clay kept looking at I65. I knew if he got on I65 he would wind up bee lining for home. The rain started late that night, it did quit long enough for us to break camp.  It was a cold and rainy start, we simply could not keep our face shields from completely fogging.  Cracking them did no good, heck even flipped all the way up they stayed fogged.  The cold rain stung our faces, we stopped every few miles to let cars pass.  I couldn't see crap and wound up off route on some 4 lane.  The rain continued but we could see a little bit and cars could pass us, so I just stayed on this 4 lane.  Well the 4 lane ended and turned into I 65!  The rain wasn't so hard, and we could see pretty good, so we took the interstate. The further north we got, the colder it got. We pulled into a Loves Truck Stop south of Montgomery and Clay said he was going home, it was only a couple of hours for him. I had to get back to Rome, Ga and had no idea what I was going to do, maybe a room around Birmingham.   We got to the Clanton/HW22 exit and I realize that I was now in territory that I know.  The rain had stopped so I decided to try to reach home.  Now unlike practically every other motorcyclist, I don't care for twisty roads, I like to see stuff, I don't like the focus. It's a running joke with those I ride with..." ha ha GaM would love this road, wouldn't he!". Well given the possibility of being caught out on New Year's Eve, in the freezing cold, at night, with one headlight out, and a broken stalk on my right turn signal, I transcended my natural inclinations and flogged the KLR, only looking at the road. I got home at dusk.  What a great trip


springer

 That /\ is a RIDE REPORT!  :)

Thanks for taking the time to carry us along! ;) ;)
What we've got here, is a failure to communicate.  Strother Martin as the Captain in Cool Hand Luke.
Endeavor to persevere! Chief Dan George as Lone Watie in The Outlaw Josey Wales.

Chitza

Loud pipes make me hungry for Valium biscuits and scotch gravy. - kdtrull

Yeah....ham it up, crackers.   ;D -kdtrull
The politically correct term is "Saltine American". -KevinB

klaviator


Gam

Thanks all. People ask me why I ride in Alabama all the time, it's because I can still take a route where I don't know what is around the next turn. That's the fun for me.

jrobinson

I'd like to copy this to Ride Reports on the web site, with your permission of course.

KevinB

Good stuff...thanks for sharing!

Gam

Quote from: jrobinson on January 06, 2018, 11:52:02 AM
I'd like to copy this to Ride Reports on the web site, with your permission of course.

Sure, go ahead.

renchinrider

That's some really good photography--loved the "Ghost Town" pics!  Thanks for sharing the report!
Live to Ride...or Die Tryin'!

Fencejumper09

That looks like a fun trip! Thanks for sharing!
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jrou111

Awesome ride report! That flat track road...mmm  8)

DonJuan

Great report. Looks like an epic ride. This is why I got into motorcycling.

Conecuh NF looks like a great ride.


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