New pal Deb invited me up to visit some friends in Windham and Woodstock for Memorial Day weekend to do some hanging out and motorbiking.

Deb has a '91 R100GS (seen at left) which ended up giving us some trouble. More on that later...

We stayed with her great friends Elizabeth and John (and their dogs Rex and Nala) in Windham Saturday night. I was supposed to meet them for a jazz concert, but I didn't have cell phone service in Windham and couldn't get in touch with her. So I went out for a burger. Luckily Deb, who was hanging out at the stuffy after-party at an art gallery across the street from the performance space, saw me riding by and ran out. We hung out there for a while (me in my leather trousers...) then hit a local bar for some drinks.

After some coffee and cranberry bread Sunday morning, we scooted off to Woodstock to pick up her bike and go riding, planing to be back at around 6pm for a party at the house of her friend Chris Maxwell.

This was looking down the road from the waterfall above. This road (Rte. 47, I think) was just amazing. Twisty and curvy, and had the river running by it most of the time.

Looking the other direction.

We got off of the pavement and hit some dirt roads I scoped on the map. The dirt road ended up turning into a pretty rough trail. GS country.

I made it up this hill, and noticed that Deb was still at the bottom, engine off. So I walked back down to see what was up.

Her bike had stalled with her rear wheel in this little stream, and wouldn't turn over.

Since we weren't going to continue down the trail, I decided to get my bike and bring it, and my tools, back to where her bike was, and try to get it going again.

Coming down the hill.

Crossing the raging river (yeah, right), trying to avoid bashing into her bike.

Trying to get at the starter to troubleshoot the problem.
The battery was fully charged, and the starter solenoid was clicking, but the starter refused to turn.

I wanted to see if there was correct voltage where the lead wire attaches to the starter, but one of her starter cover bolts was stripped, and since it was recessed in the casing, I couldn't get to it, even with vice-grips. Frustrating. We decided that we'd have to push-start it, since BMW, for some reason, didn't include a kick-starter on this model. Doesn't make any sense to me, at all, why they wouldn't have included a kick-starter.

This is the hill we pushed the bike up... backwards. I was sore for days afterward. (this is me riding up it earlier) We got it to the top, and not wanting to go as fast as possible towards the stream and rocks, we rolled down the other side which unfortunately had a more gradual slope. We ended up pushing it three or four times, and it finally started.

We made it back to the party at 8pm, just as the burgers were coming off the grill. Chris' (in orange) girlfriend Kelly (at right) made some amazingly delicious food, and after all of the pushing and frustration of dealing with Debs bike, I was ready to tuck into some nourishment.
Sabine, who coincidentally has an '89 GS as well, is between Chris and Kelly. I don't remember the names of the other two folks in the photo (sorry).

The next day, Monday, I wanted to go out and explore some of the roads we didn't get to on Sunday. Since Debs bike was crapped out, I went solo. This was a road that supposedly connected with the trail we were on on Sunday, and I wanted to see how tough it was.

There turned out to be a bunch of campsites back there, and there were a few people who had been camping out all weekend. State land = free camping. Nice.

This stream is across the road from the campsite above.

The sign says, No Trespassing Peters Hunting Club, Inc. I turned back, and asked some guy at a campsite what the deal was with that. He said the road is public, and the signs are misleading. So I went back and barreled through. There was a bridge out at a stream about a hundred yards after these signs. There was a ford to cross the stream, but it was very sandy and steep, and being alone, I decided not to try it. Next time.

I was exploring another thin line on the map, and came across this washed out trail. It doesn't look too bad from this photo, but it was very rough, especially for such a big bike. It was very rocky, and went out for about a hundred and fifty yards.

Pardon the Southern California-ism, but... gnarly!

Yeah, I'm not going down there.

The last stop of the day was to check out Mongaup Pond State Campgrounds. It was spectacularly clean and in a very gorgeous setting. Each campsite even had a stack of cut wood by it's fire ring. The whole place was a very well-maintained.
I stopped on the way out to chat with Jonathan, the park ranger. Interesting fellow, and a photographer, who's lived in quite a few places around the country.

A shot of the beach.

As I turned a corner, right in the middle of the road was a deer. It stopped and just looked at me. I sat there for a few seconds, then realized what a great photo that would be. By the time I go my camera out, it had decided to get moving.

Anglers Park Here. I wasn't doing any angling or anything, but I thought a little rest by the creek would be nice before the ride back to Westchester.

A dirty bike is a happy bike.
I plan on going back to that same area to scope out some more trails and places to camp. Soon.

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