The Poseidon Adventure: Part 3

Nothing lasts forever. Eventually I got to the end of my little road. I had crossed a small ridge and emerged several miles from my starting point. I was on a main road. Actually, when I say “main road” I mean a well-traveled and properly maintained dirt road.

Lucky for me, my track continued right across the main road and kept going. There was even another sign, “Minimum Maintenance Road”. I love those signs!

Unfortunately, things started getting rough now. The ruts were deeper and muddier and more imposing. Even the snowmobiles had avoided this area. But I didn’t mind, my little bike felt ready to handle anything. I glanced at the sky; it was getting late in the day. I had time for more exploration but within a couple hours I should be hustling back to the truck. It was sure to be very cold after sunset.

Soon enough I encountered my first real water hazard. Cue the ominous music!

It didn’t look too bad really. I’ve seen about a million YouTube videos of people blasting through stuff like this; easy peasy. My only question was whether I could get across with my feet on the foot pegs or not. My worst-case scenario was mostly just wet toes.

I got off the bike and paced about, weighing my options. It was impossible to go around. I could go on the left side. I could go on the right side. I could try to ride the ridge between the two ruts (which were submerged beneath the water where I could not see them). It didn’t seem that deep and the bottom was probably sandy. Of course, there’s the ever-present option of just plain chickening out. But I wasn’t too far from that maintained road and it wasn’t too late in the day so why not go for it?

I picked the right wheel rut, put it in first gear, planted my feet firmly on the pegs, and rolled confidently into the water. It took about three feet to realize every assumption I’d made was wrong. The bottom was not sandy! The front tire was not following an identifiable wheel rut! And there was no way in hell I was keeping my bike upright without deploying outriggers.

I got my feet down just in time for the bike to stall and lose momentum. The hot muffler sent up a plume of steam. My feet were instantly drenched.

Sitting on the seat of an immobile motorcycle in the middle of what now felt like a small pond, I pulled up first one foot and then the other. So much for that set of work boots! My feet were drenched and my boots encased in a three-quarter inch thick layer of muck. Captain Obvious decided he needs proper motorcycle boots and he should have purchased them a well before the ride.

Completely chastised, I thumbed the ignition and the little bike fired right up. The rear tire got modest grip but the front was just plowing along somewhat randomly. With steering more a suggestion than an order and the bottom obscured beneath the water, I couldn’t tell where the bike wanted to go. There was no chance I could just hop on and charge for shore. Defeated and embarrassed; I duckwalked my ride through another 30’ of water and slime.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I emerged on the other side. The thing about adventure that you don’t know what’s gonna’ happen. I chuckled a little bit to myself and thought that perhaps wet feet were the beginning of a learning experience. I sent out another text on my SpotX: “Stupidly rode into muddy mess. But all is well. Will buy boots soon.”

Wet and humbled, I rolled on…