Saying our trip(s) are epic causes me to laugh, this is a big country that lets you be 'As Big' as you have balls to be, and for most 'Big' equates to danger made-up in their head; here's more detail about what happened on day one of the 236 mile trip above, the head game of danger and screaming and shitting your pants when danger was no where around.
Planning for the trip leaving on a Friday started the previous Monday after Hearing on the radio news a railroad bridge was being repaired/updated so the tracks through Delta, Colorado would be closed for the day. Again you'll need a map to understand the area of perceived danger.
The news report was important as the tracks bring Coal from the high mines above Paonia, Colorado east of Delta then go west high above the River, through the high desert through the Escalante canyon area. Look at the map to know the only way through this area other than the State highway or floating the river is through the desert riding the rails heading to Grand Junction. On google maps scroll in using the satellite view to see the cliffs the track follow high above the water. I had always wanted to do the loop around the plateau but there are many trains a day using the rails so the chances of hitting a gap between trails while in the narrows made a trip like this unthinkable even to me until!
I heard the radio so looked in the paper and the tracks were going to be closed the next Friday, so I started planning a trip that so far has been a once and done use of the rails by an a.t.v. (I know there are rules against this, but I like to live and make stories so). The news was learned on Tuesday and the next day I was over at Mike's (the short guy before pictures) and the tall guy was there. They had something they wanted to do the next weekend and wanted me there so I told them I was going to busy, which then required me to tell them I going riding, but I didn't tell them about the route using the rails
I know, I could have told them but decided to let them learn on their own......
The day started with the sunrise pictures, then we saw the elk pictures at 11,000ft.,
then we started into the desert area to watch antelope bucks in rut:
before descending a rock face to a pasture cut by the rails entering the river canyon.
What happened next happens only once or twice in your life if you're lucky, you get to see shear terror on your buddies faces when there is nothing dangerous in sight! We got across the pasture below the elevated track bed entering the canyon cut and the tall guy started to swallow hard looking back at me knowing the short guy would ask where next. (Another part of the story is the short guy's wife was going to meet us in the Escalante with their pop-up camper and her a.t.v. trailered before we left his house. She had a job so left home after work, by the highway she only did 60 miles.)
With her planning to meet us in a designated area, without cell service I told him we had to go that way because there was no time to back track to a highway and meet her as agreed, and she would be pissed if we didn't show up, she's a mean'ol woman and was the scariest part of the 3 day trip
After we had a refreshing beverage at the bottom of the incline I rode up showing them it could be done, then used the winch to pull the other two up. It turned out these were welded rails much taller than the rails I remembered when A KID. The rails barely fit under the stock 550s Stretch and Shorty were riding, and it turned out the rails weren't more than a few inches wider than the Grizzlies. I could easily straddle the rails while those two had to run between the rails going slower, all the time with the thought of a train barreling up from behind, or steaming in from around the bend just ahead.
I took off with stretch close behind, with Shorty screaming wanting to go back, but not wanting to be the group pussy. I never knew if he was scared of dying by train or going home to his wife left in the desert, but I do remember laughing knowing there was no train coming through that day. As bad as life was for Shorty, Stretch was just as scared. They seemed to have something to live for, something not yet done by the look on their face, but they wasn't going to be the group pussy.
I don't remember the distance we traveled by rail but it was long enough. We had gone maybe a mile when I saw signaling hardware bolted to the ties between the rails with a signal pole next to the tracks. The next problem was the hardware didn't look very strong for an a.t.v. to drive over, and I damn sure didn't want an alarm to go off in an office somewhere with a phone call to the sheriff. I stopped, looked and determined we had to ride back over the rail to go to the bottom of the bed next to the cliff the bed was cut into, to get around the signal switch and pole to then go back up to the rails to continue. Stretch was sitting there waiting for Shorty to arrive when I got on my 660 to go around the signal switch, and it was at that time
Shorty saw his next problem. He looked down to his right into the bottom I used, a 45 degree angle bed ending at a vertical wall of the cliff rising above our heads, or to his right down a 45 degree angle to the river water flowing below, a hill side covered in brush that might have stopped a machine from falling. He didn't like his choices, and when he stopped screaming (I had only moved 40ft. down the tracks so heard him well) I said he could turn around and go back, which again reminded him of his wife, so he followed me and Stretch around the signal switch and signal light pole
At that obstacle Stretch took the lead, passing me at the bottom of the bed. He got to the rail and decided his best chance for survival was to ride straddling the rail as fast as he could to get the 'f' out of there, and he did it leaving me and Shorty behind, it was during this time snot blew from my nose with tears blocking my view. It took me a few minutes to winch Shorty up to the rail and the entire time I could hear Stretch's 550 scream next to the cliff toward a right hander bending steel out of sight. As I got back on my 660 I looked up to see the 550 tail light on. Stretch considered for a short time a train around the bend, then he said 'f' it as he wasn't going back cause there could be a train coming up behind us. I'll tell you about what I told Stretch of this 'running off' in a minute, as I wasn't mad knowing we were safe, but I did give him more to dream about.
Anyway, we rode a few miles further until out of the canyon and into rolling desert sagebrush, there was no trail proving nobody else had pulled off that run. We got to camp just as the wife was pulling in, and in camp later I told Stretch it was Ok that he rode off to leave us, as he was far down the rails that if there was a train hit him Shorty and I would have heard the whistle giving us more time to get off the tracks. I thanked him for his selflessness and riding point.
To end this story, Shorty died a year later: his handle here was chuckhole and he still trusted me, I guess he like riding more than he wanted to be with the wife.
Stretch was a good friend until cancer took him last year. I did tell him a few years ago of the bridge repair, and I waited until I 'knew' he didn't have a pistol on him!
Epic rides, not so much.
All that's needed is desire to go somewhere, the time to make the plan and a Grizz to make the trip without failing you. Oh, I didn't take self incriminating photos in the canyon. Use the map if you want a good laugh.