RIDE REPORTS
 














 


 What's Inside

Home

 Honda Models

 Rider Reports

Riding & Race Dates

 Links

 Fun Stuff

 Ramjet's Tech

 

 

Rocks Revisited
Hatfield & McCoy Ride Report
By Ramjet - 10-04-03
Lynburn, West Virginia


 Hosting World Class Trail Events That
Attract Thousands of Trail Users Each Year to Southern  West Virginia

I’ve been anticipating the return to Hatfield-McCoy ever since Redrider posted his first message on the POOA board announcing a return to Hatfield & McCoy. My first time to Hatfield-McCoy was short and the weather was so unbelievably hot it made the riding a bit miserable. My trip was cut short due to other commitments and I really didn’t have the opportunity to see everything Hatfield and McCoy had to offer.

But not this time. Our happy band of fourteen Pilot and Odyssey drivers were blessed with some of the best weather you could hope for. Clear skies, a comfortably temperature in the seventies for riding and moonlight evenings with good companions around the crackle of a campfire.

Through the magic of the POOA network. Odyknuck, who resides two and half-hours north of me, came up with a plan. I was to meet Odyknuck in Cambridge, Ohio at the crossroads of I-70 and I-77. He was departing from his home in Cleveland with is Motor Home, Pilot, and trailer. We were to depart Cambridge with his “house on wheels” towing a sixteen-foot trailer with our two Pilots, spare fuel, tools and tires on board and leave my truck and trailer behind. Trailshark, who lives in a neighboring town twenty-five minutes away, met us at our rendezvous point for the trek to Hatfield and McCoy.

All of us arrive within ten minutes of each other and I unload my Pilot off my trailer to transfer it to Odyknuck’s trailer. I have always been amaze on how much peripheral stuff you drag along to these events. Tires, tools, oil, helmets, photo gear, video gear, food, Winnie the Pooh pajamas, sleeping gear and spare parts is just a small sampling of everything on your “must have” list. I recall a time when I could travel with only a toothbrush and a change of underwear.

The Road Trip

A kiss to the wife who will return to pick me up with my truck and trailer Sunday, Odyknuck and I hit the road. Trailshark brings up the rear with his truck and trailer.  Our estimated trip time to Hatfield-McCoy is under three hours from Cambridge and the time passes quickly. My view from the Motor Home is stunning  and it’s neat to walk back to get a drink from the fridge.

Now we’re not the fastest guys on the highway, lumbering down the pavement like a large pregnant dinosaur. We wallow side to side from the pressure waves of air every time a tractor-trailer passes us.  Despite the fact we are more then forty feet long and eating fuel at 6 miles per gallon, this is still a grand way to travel and I’m grateful for the offer to tag along and split the fuel. If Trailshark, hanging behind us, had any idea where to go, he would have passed us long ago. 

Tooling down I-77, we turn heads wherever we go. It's fun to see the smiles on the kids faces as they look out their window and give us the thumbs up.

Now I've known Odyknuck for a little more then two years when we met at the Spring Valley races. We both own 350's at the time. In that short time, and I'm not sure what it is, I feel that that I've known him all my life. It’s an odd, but pleasant thing this POOA board. Guys from all over the United States band together in small groups for the pleasure of riding together. But I believe it goes deeper then the riding. There are some solid friendships built when we get together for these events and I have met some of the best people in the world. 

Are We There Yet?

Hatfield-McCoy sits about twenty-five minutes outside of Charleston, West Virginia. Odyknuck and I are proceeding south on I-77 and need to connect to 119. Now when you over forty feet long and accelerate as fast as a snail in glue, you need to plan your exits way ahead of time. Naturally, we’re in a center lane when we need to exit and nobody will get out of our way so we can exit to the right, which we promptly miss our exit only to have to turn around a few miles down the road to get back on course.

Continuing down I-77, we capture our correct exit and head for Hatfield- McCoy. Odyknuck and I approach what we think is the entrance to the campground only to discover we’re lost and have to turn around again. We were so engrossed in our conversation that we were not paying much attention where we are. We’re also low on gas and it gets real quite in the RV as we watch the gas gauge bottom out to empty. If we have to, we’ll dump our precious pre-mix for the Pilot’s into the RV to get us another 20  miles.


Go juice is a wonderful thing. Odyknuck's RV is to the left and Tralsharks truck and trailer id to the right.

Silently, both of us are wondering how far the RV will carry us on fumes. I meekly ask, "How far can it go?" Odyknuck replies "I don’t know, I've never had it this low". It gets quieter in the RV as we listen to the engine suck the last drops of fuel. Fortunately, a gas station appears on the horizon and we stop for fuel and an older gentleman walks over and asks if we are lost? "Just misplaced "we claim and he points us in the right direction about five miles down the road to the campground.

Bless Trailshark who kept telling us on the handheld radio that we missed our exits. He hung right with us the whole time. 

Odyknuck processes many talents. Not only can he navigate a RV with precision and skill, but he also can wash windows.

We see a campground from the road and there appears to be a Pilot on a trailer. It's our home base, and Odyknuck steers the RV to the entrance.

The campsite area is outstanding and a few of the guys like Bucked and Vrroom are already there. Odyknuck navigates the big RV with skill and precision into our camping space. Each site is plumb for water and electric. There is a central restroom, shower area for cleaning up. It’s pretty economical too.


This sign greets you at the entrance to the campground. How Odyknuck and I missed it is beyond me.


 Our Base Camp at Hatfield McCoy

 

  



 



 






 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Bucked and UPSman


 Moskito and the new Frankenskeeter


 Pilothawk


 Rocketman


 Vrroom. Maker of fine fiberglass 350 and Pilot parts.

  After everything is unloaded, all of us get geared up to hit the trails.
There's a small connecting trail between the campground and the main Hatfield McCoy trail system. It's narrow but navigable and follow a small creek that wraps around the campground. All us follow Rocketman to the registration station that sits in a large, lime stoned parking lot.

The Hatfield McCoy staff is helpful, professional and answers our questions. We're on a special permit by arrangement with Redrider who was the force behind organizing this trip. There was some concern that we may be too wide for the trails or may cause too much damage. We get confused and lumped in with the four wheel truck people who haven't left the best impression. This was to be a litmus test to see if we would be invited to return in the future.

Bring your wallet to pay the trail fee. The fee isn't that bad and it does support the trail system. I doubt if the staff is making huge anounts of money. Most appear to do it for the fun. Dummy me left his behind and Moskito was kind enough to spring for me. Once everyone was tagged and bagged, we're ready to do some serious riding.

Saving Private Rocketman

By default, Rocketman is going to lead our merry band and Redrider will bring up the rear. Both have been on this system before and are well verse on this type of riding. Redrider's task is to pick up the stragglers and mother them along like a mother hen. He also has every tool known to a Pilot buried in PVC tubes on his machine. If you broke down, it's comforting to know Redrider is behind you somewhere.

So off we go. Dust kicks up and leaves a fine film on your goggles. Naturally, tithe group starts to spread out over the trail. I've hung in the back with Redrider and Spaceoddy to film the action on my onboard video. I fall farther and father behind only to catch up, film and fall behind again.

These guys are aggressively fast.
 

Now I've lost everybody except Redrider and Spaceoddy behind me. Coming up a hill, deep in the woods, I see the rest of gang rolled to stop. I pull up behind, remove my helmet and climb out. I ask what 's up to Kiowa, who is parked in front of me, and he says somebody's gone off the trail into the ravine. We go to investigate.

Sure enough, there's a Pilot on its roof and of all people, it's Rocketman! Redrider told me he's pretty insane on the trails and now he's on his  lid halfway down the embankment. All the guys are around him to give him a hand putting his machine on all fours.

Rocketman is okay, and a bit embarrassed about all of the attention. There's plenty of help, so I run back to get my camera and film. This is one of those rare Kodak moments that we'll look back years from now and laugh about it.



Now trying to right a 600 pound machine on a thirty degree inclined is a challenge but the group is successful. The current problem is getting the Pilot back up on the trail.

There's a video attached here of that task. Just click on the icon below.

Click to Continue to Page Two