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Rumble and Mumble
Rumble on the Ridge Ride Report
By Ramjet - 05-30-03, Adeana, Ohio

Buried in picturesque eastern foothills of Ohio, just east Cadiz, hometown to Clark Gable is the now famous Rumble on the Ridge hosted by Shortcreek Sportsman on over 3000 acres of trails.

Now the Rumble on the Ridge attracts many ATV riders from a tri-state area and it’s reported that there can be over 3000 in attendance. The three times I’ve been there, they’ve always pulled close to that number, yet due to its size, it never seems crowded.

That 3000 number alone may turn off many Odyssey and Pilot drivers but mass attendance shouldn’t keep you from this event. It’s a tremendously good time. We logged over 32 miles on the trails and the only time there was parkway like traffic is when either a child is on the trail (which I have no issue with), you’re stopped for a problem, stuck in the mud or you’re navigating through some tight, technical trails. The majority of your ride time, you have the trails to yourself. In fact, it’s pretty much a big kick to goose the throttle on the Pilot and literally blow away the rolling couch potato with a green cooler affixed on the back of his FourTrax.

May’s Rumble attracted Odypilots, Odynuck, Trailshark, Foubar and Company and myself. A small but happy band of brothers. We met at the Wendy’s parking lot at 9:00 as planned and went in together. It’s great to see everyone. There was no waiting and the Shortcreek Sportsman Club does an excellent job of processing you and sending you off to park. For the first time, all of us parked together. As I passed the guys who were handing out the waiver forms, I heard “Cool! Look at all the Pilots!”  We turn heads wherever we go.


Unloading at the Rumble on the Ridge

Heading to our assigned parking area, we pass a white box van with Pilot’s and FL-350’s around it. It isn’t anyone we recognize but I make a mental note to stop by and say hello after we unload. It’s a beautiful day. Light blue sky with puffy white clouds and a comfortable 70 degrees.


Trailshark's Pilot and Trailer

We start to unload and catch up with each other while rolling our red machines off their respective trailers. One of the guys on Foubar’s crew whose name escapes me had an interesting machine. It looked like a FL-250 on steroids.

We suit up and one of the guys in Foubar’s crew has a loose bearing block that he’s wrenching on. Foubar doesn’t want to hold us up while they correct it and says, go ahead without us, we’ll catch up. It’s the last we’ll see of Foubar and crew till the end of the ride.

Departing for the entrance to the rumble, marked with a big white overhead banner that says “Start”, Odypilots, Odykunck and Trailshark follow me to the box van that had the other Pilot’s and I spoke to an elderly gentleman inquiring where the other Pilots went. He told me they departed about 10 minutes before and they are from New York.  We should run into them sometime.

Hitting the trails is a bit slow since everyone is departing about the same start time. It’s not a bad as it sounds but everyone is trying to occupy the same time and space at the same time, which is some kind of quantum physics problem. It’s orderly and most of the time is spent with people trying to find other people in their group. Everyone is courteous and wave us by if they feel they are in your way. We have moments of wide-open throttle only to roll to a slow pace behind someone taking a leisure tour of the Rumble. That’s okay by me since there are plenty of places to pass.


The Rumble has over 31 miles of trails all marked.

We travel along the wooded ridgelines of pines and oak. Everyone once in awhile, there are open fields and old, wide trail roads that we can really open up on. It’s amusing to be covered in mud one time only to pop out of the woods and choke on dust a moment later. The Rumble offers just about everything you would want for a ride. Hills, deep woods, flat fields of open terrain and creek crossings. Our merry band made five deep creek crossings that make the creek crossing at the East Coast Jam appear as child’s play. Unfortunately, coming out of one of the creek crossings, deep in the woods, I slip in the mud and prang my bumper flat into the center of a tree. I didn’t hit the six-inch maple hard, but it flattens my beloved Pilot bumper to a twisted useless tube. I plan to change the lettering on my helmet from Ramjet to Dumbjet.

 

 

 

 

 

  



 



 






 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I can’t see what luck Trailshark, Odypilots or Odyknuck are having crossing or with the mud since everyone is behind me and my mirrors are pretty well packed with mud. Odyknuck is having a tough time with a set of worn tires on his Pilot but keeps up with the pack. I approach some poor soul who is buried up to his 4x4 Yamaha seat in a mud bog and they are trying to pull him out with another 4x4 beast with little success. Another to my left is in the same predicament only he is sunk and on his left side looking like a torpedo battleship. I had my camera with me and wanted to take a few pictures but was preoccupied with getting my self out of this area. We quietly go around the ATV dinosaurs stuck in the mud pits and cross a few more creeks without incident. Trailshark commented later that all the mud on him, was from me. Try being behind Stoneman sometime.

On an open part of the trail, we crest a hill to see the four Pilots stopped at the bottom of a long hill. The crowd is thinning out by this time and the other rider’s come by in waves or two or three at a time. By this time it’s only Trailshark and me, we’ve lost Odyknuck and Odypilot’s behind us somewhere still struggling with the mud in the woods. We roll to a stop at the bottom of the hill to meet these other four riders. Turns out, this gang is are the ones from New York and we meet and greet while waiting for our two comrades behind us.


Pilot group from New York

We decide to follow the gang from New York for a while and travel in wolf pack. We pass clusters of riders off the side of the trail eating lunch or just taking a break. We get a thumbs up and big smiles as we pass these groups. The crowd has thinned out considerably and we can really open up the Pilots. We leave the New York gang behind and take off down the trail. For some reason, Trailshark and I end up together and we lose Odypilot’s and Odyknuck. I’m confused and think that Odypilot is ahead of us and Odyknuck is behind us. Trailshark and I stop at the top of a large hill and wait to see who comes down the trail. The hill gives us a commanding view. We wait and wait.


Odyknuck

Finally, Odyknuck comes tearing down the far side of the hill and asks where Odypilots is. He was waiting for him at the opposite hill and gave up to find us. We three take off to try to catch him but never do till the end of the trail. I look up at a tree and see a small marker that say “29” and not a moment later my low fuel light comes on. I now lose sight of Trailshark and Odyknuck and don’t have a clue where they went. Low on fuel and I’m not sure how long it is to the end of the trail, I hoof it as fast as I can to the parking lot figuring to shorten my walk if I run out of fuel. I have the Rumble to myself and don’t see a soul until I pop out of the woods again and see cresting another hill a half a mile away another Pilot with a “57” emblazoned on its size. I found Odypilots but never can catch up to him. I switch to reserve and it’s another two or three miles before I arrive at the end of the trail. I head for our parking space tired, on reserve and hungry.

 Odypilot’s hops out of this Pilot and is laughing but wanting to strangle me. I’m not sure why he wanted to strangle me but I think it had something to do with mud and water. Trailshark appears about five minutes later but there’s no sign of Odyknuck. Trailshark tells us that he’s having fuel problems and was stuck on the trail but had it corrected. He arrives about ten minutes later and is all smiles. Just a little problem with rust in the tank.


Trailshark (Joe)

So ends a great event. We eat a late lunch and play around for a bit. We hit the trail at 10:00 a.m. and we were off the trail at 3:30 in the afternoon. It sounds goofy, but I really enjoy the company of this group and just have a ball. Let’s do it again. For $15, it was money well spent. 

This was my third trip to the Rumble. I'd go back anytime. Put the Rumble on the Ridge on your " must do" ride list.

I give this ride an nine out of ten.