Continental Divide ride 2018: Part 5

Part 4

With Jeff's DR650 out of commission because of a fried clutch, and replacement parts arriving in Jackson, Wyoming in 4 days, we had to change our plans to make the most of our forced delay. Otherwise, we'd face the unwanted prospect of cutting our overall route short--and that would be a real disappointment, because the apex of our loop was far ahead at the high passes of the Rockies in Colorado.

After much debate, we agreed that renting a car and driving to Jackson via Yellowstone would be a decent consolation prize, with the bonus of having some time to visit the Butte mining museum before heading out of town. It was a sensible decision, and after several tiring days in the dust and heat,  the prospect of air conditioning, tunes, and not being patinated by sweat and grime seemed downright appealing as well as a bit of a culture shock.

Getting a rental car proved unexpectedly challenging, as there was a major festival in town and the only rental options were at the Butte airport. Pete and I took advantage of a Hampton Inn free shuttle to the airport (thanks again, Judy!), arriving to find that the terminal was both a remarkable work of architecture and completely deserted. No planes, no passengers. Nothing. Just one person staffing the car rental booth, and one other customer equally concerned about securing a car. We got the last vehicle available in town, and amazingly, it was an SUV that fit all our gear.

A nice display of minerals stoked our curiosity about visiting the Butte mining museum. 

With the car packed and our bikes parked at the Hampton Inn for the next few days, we headed off to look around town and geek out at the mining museum - a trip highlight for me.

First up was the visitor's centre overlooking the main mining site. Today, the ores are being actively mined through open-pit techniques, but scattered throughout the site are many remnants of the original mines, with prominent head frames that led down to thousands of miles of underground workings. Here is the head frame of the Badger copper mine, one of the oldest continuously operating mines in Butte (from 1883 to 1966), and which reached a depth of 4,169 feet.

Butte was very much a multi-cultural city during its heyday, attracting workers from all over the world. This overlook with flags of the different nationalities that worked the mines was constructed with core samples (the cylindrical features) drilled from the hard rock.

Tragedy lurked at every step though, with one of the most horrific accidents in mining history happening right here.

This engraved stone shows the depth of the workings where the fire occurred--at the 2600' level of the Granite Mountain shaft.

Letters recovered from some of the miners paint a moving picture of the unimaginable suffering, horror, and impending doom experienced by those trapped underground.

Although we didn't visit it, nearby is the Berkeley Pit, the remains of one of the main copper mining operations that left a 1,760' deep hole in the earth and an impending environmental disaster from the highly acidic water that's now filling the hole and threatening the regional aquifer. So much to see for another time!  

Next we went to the World Mining Museum, located at the site of the Orphan Girl mine, with much of the equipment and buildings left in place when mining operations ceased in 1970. The museum had a fantastic collection of old buildings and artifacts moved to the site, and is well worth a day-long visit. Although it's also possible to tour the underground workings, there were no tickets left on the day we were there. 

Unfortunately, none of the display buildings are open to visitors, but peering through the windows revealed some impressive glimpses of what life could be like for the different levels of society during the town's Victorian peak.

Butte hosted an impressive maze of ever-changing rail lines above and below ground to bring supplies to and remove ore from the various mines all jammed together on the Hill. Here's a map of some of the confusion:

Today some sections of track remain, with an early steam locomotive used to shunt ore cars parked on an old spur at the Orphan Girl.

More modern diesel-electric engines were parked further along:

Beside the spur was the remains of the old dry-house where an incinerator and boiler (located in the brick structure) made steam and hot water for weary miners to shower and dry their work clothes after a shift. The tracks above were used to feed scraps of wood from the extensive timbering operations (e.g. off-cuts from the timbers used to shore up the tunnels) located nearby, which also had the benefit of keeping the site clean of wood debris.

Here's the dry house in the distance, with the tracks from the timber shop. To the right is the head frame (not shown).

 And there it is: the Orphan Girl head frame, now and then. Up close, you could smell the old grease and ore dust.

Three shafts plunge 2700' straight down into the rock. On the right is the car that miners would descend in; the middle shows a similar car with an ore cart in place; the left shaft has a larger ore recovery system in place.

This is a nifty 3D representation of the ore veins and shafts of the Orphan Girl mine, showing the main shaft and various drifts at 100' depth intervals to access the vein and remove the ore by blasting it out from below.

It's hard to fully grasp the extent and complexity of underground operations of a typical mine here. The following models were built by insurance companies in the early 1900s to represent the different shafts and drifts of two mines as part of legal proceedings against the mine operators. Each "stick" is labeled and represents an individual shaft or drift cut into the rock like so many ant tunnels, with red areas representing the stopes or areas where ore has been removed.

When you multiply this example by the hundred-plus mines in the area, it's easy to see why there are thousands of kilometers of workings beneath Butte.

Each of those ant-traces was filthy, hot, wet, and dangerous in reality.

Here's a mechanized "mucker" which rode on rails and scooped up the blasted ore and waste rock for either removal to disused tunnels, or to above-ground processing or dumping sites.

Even the toilet traveled on rails! 

Each level of the mine had its own railway network and traffic control system to prevent collisions, as shown in this lighting board used to represent the location of ore trains on the 500-600' level.

Timbering thousands of kilometers of tunnels to prevent the rock from collapsing required forests of logs cut by automated saws into standard parts, using ingenious joinery that enabled the posts and beams to be assembled quickly and securely underground.

Of course, with so much rock being moved, massive power was required to winch the equipment and workers down, and ore up.

This was the main head frame winch:

And, if I recall correctly, this was one of the main air compressors used to power the mining drills. It was driven by a 150HP electric motor. Thousands of these compressors were built and sold by the Rand Drill Company.

Parked nearby was this unusual snowmobile, a design that never caught on and was superseded by  Bombardier's famous invention.

Finally, with our minds full of mining history, we left to fill our bellies with some delicious BBQ.

I couldn't help but feel a little envious of the bike packers at the restaurant who were passing along our route. 

But we would be back on our own two wheels soon enough. Meanwhile, we headed out on the road to Yellowstone!

Part 6

Review: Shinko 700 dual-sport tires

When not running full knobbies on my WR250R (preferred combo the Dunlop D606 120/90-18 on rear, and Pirelli MT21 90/90-21 on front), I've tried the Mitas E-07 front/rear and Heidenau K60 Scout front/rear. Both the Mitas and Heidenau have great attributes are are justifiably well-rated, but they ultimately proved to be a poor match for my lightweight bike. The stiff sidewalls of the E-07 made the tires the hardest I've ever installed, and gave a stiff, uncompliant ride. In fact, one day I took off for a ride with a flat front tire and didn't really notice until I'd gone a few blocks--it was so stiff, it rolled like a regular tire slightly under-pressured, and I had to use a gauge to see if it was indeed flat. As for the Scouts, I found the rubber to be long-lasting but way too hard, especially in cooler conditions and in the wet. For both brands, I found the designs offered moderately improved traction on gravel roads versus a street-oriented dual-sport tire, but not enough to justify the choice. In particular, both the E-07 and Scout tended to wash out easily in the front, making gravel riding a little nerve-racking.

The Shinko 700 tire has been on my radar for a while, having received good reviews for traction, wear, and price. I ordered the 90/90-21 front and 4.60-18 rear. Here they are mounted on my bike beside an MT-21 (front) and D606 (rear) mounted on separate wheels for comparison.

The Shinko 700 tread looks to be more street-oriented than the E-07 or Scout, which is why I had originally hesitated to try the 700s over more aggressive designs. However, I can attest that the tread indeed performs very well on gravel (both front and rear) and achieves predictable grip with lean and changing surface conditions. In mud they perform poorly compared to a full knobby--no surprise there--but it's not as bad as I'd anticipated.

Straight-line traction in mud is decent; the real short-coming is side-traction along ruts, which is completely expected given the lack of side lugs and the high, rounded profile. As long as you hit the mud straight, keep your momentum, and spin to fling out the mud, the 700s will get you through. (Not the case for this poor KLR on a slightly less aggressive tire.)

Street performance of the Shinko is excellent, with minimal noise and vibration, and excellent cornering and acceleration. I never felt like these tires were squirmy or about to lose traction, even on wet pavement.

The flexible sidewall of these tires is key to them achieving high compliance on a light bike, and therefore improved traction and control. Although I ordered the rear in 4.60-18 (which actually measures to 4.6" or 116mm wide when mounted), it's also available in 130/80-18, which in theory is about 5.1" wide. I wasn't sure the larger tire would fit, but having run the 4.60 I can see there's plenty of room on my bike, and would recommend choosing the wider size. It should also improve floatation and grip in softer conditions, especially if you're carrying luggage and are concerned about dinging your rims.

To test these tires I rode a few hundred kilometers through some rough dual-sport terrain which included gravel, water crossings, rocks, mud, grass, and pavement. Conditions were similar to what we rode in the Rockies this past summer, on full knobbies. My sense is that if conditions are generally not muddy, the Shinko 700 would offer 90% of the performance of full knobbies while making the inevitable long paved stretches more tolerable. Overall, they seem to be an excellent tire for a great price, and I'm looking forward to seeing how they hold up over the longer term.

Review: Riding gear update

Finding the perfect compromise between crash protection for off-road riding and all-weather protection for multi-day adventures has, not surprisingly, proven elusive. Over the years I've experimented with various jacket/pant systems, starting at the low end for price and durability, becoming dissatisfied with comfort and performance, and eventually working my way up to the set of gear I'm using currently.

In my part of the world (Ottawa, Canada), the riding season is woefully short--barely stretching from late March (or whenever the rain has rinsed most of the road salt away) to mid October. July and August can be mercilessly hot and humid, with temperatures in the upper 30's Celcius with the humidex (worse in the bush!). Mesh gear is essential to avoid heat exhaustion in these conditions, but the frequent risk of violent summer storms with corresponding temperature drops means carrying  some heavy-duty rain protection on longer trips. And that creates the problem of having to frequently stop and change gear to stay reasonably comfortable.

As a result, I've converged on two sets of gear: one set based on the 2018 Klim Carlsbad jacket and pants for everything but peak summer, and the other based on the Klim Mojave pants with TekVest, and Klim Tactical jersey for the hottest days. With both sets I wore Alpinestars Fluid Carbon knee braces and Fox Titan elbow pads, having removed all the armour in the Carlsbad suit.

Both sets got a full workout during a month of riding the Continental Divide this past summer, so now I can report on how well things worked. Conditions ranged from low single-digit temperatures at mountain elevations of up to 4,000m, to parched sandy deserts well into the 40's. One big difference from conditions at home was the low humidity: while it was easy to get hot and sweaty, it was equally easy to dry out rapidly because of the arid conditions. At home, my riding gear remains a soggy mass of sweat no matter how little you wear or how fast you ride.

In the next sections I'll cover some observations of how the components worked together (or didn't).

Alpinestars Fluid Carbon knee braces
The D30 knee armour that comes with the Carlsbad pant is basically a joke because it flops around and offers no realistic protection in the event of a crash. Having previously tweaked a knee while riding, I wanted more support and protection on a long trip to remote areas. The Fluid braces seemed to offer good value and comfort compared to other off-the-shelf options I considered. They also happen to fit my physique almost perfectly and they articulate well with knee movement, generally remaining in the correct position after many hours of sitting and standing on the pegs. Putting them on, adjusting, and removing them is easy.

The L/XL braces fit under my size 34 Carlsbad pants with acceptable room, such that the pant fabric can still slide around freely. Nevertheless, the combination does stiffen the limbs, making swinging a leg over my WR250R somewhat prone to whacking the seat. Although I'm reasonably flexible, the issue is really the lack of stretch in the Carlsbad fabric combined with the brace simply doing its job of restricting knee movement. Once on the bike, the combination felt fine, although over time the brace would slip down slightly and cause the top part to push out from the thigh, creating a tight spot in the leg fabric. Regular contact with this area would likely accelerate fabric and stitching wear, although I didn't notice a problem.

Something else to consider with your gear is how easy it is to partially drop so you can sit on a toilet. The last thing you want to do when making a pit stop in some dilapidated gas station or restaurant loo is get all undressed on a urine-soaked floor. The combination of Carlsbad pant, knee braces, and adventure boots requires a complicated set of yoga moves to do your business. You quickly learn to bask in the power of coffee first thing in the morning, before getting dressed to ride.

My verdict on the Carlsbad/Fluid combo is I would hesitate to recommend it unless you have slimmer legs. I actually avoided wearing my Carlsbad pants as much as possible because conditions were simply too warm and ventilation and movement was too limited. I probably only wore the pants 4-5 days in a month of riding, vastly preferring the Mojave pants unless it was actually raining.

Under the Klim Mojave pants the knee braces worked almost flawlessly. These pants offer a slightly more generous cut than the Carlsbad and correspondingly much more comfort. Klim should apply the Mojave fit to the Carlsbad line, as the intended use profile is similar except for wetness of conditions. With this combo, I could easily forget I was wearing the Fluids even after 10-12 hour days.

In dual sport riding (or at least, the way we rode), there seems to be a constant need to kneel on the ground and fuss with the bike. The Fluid offered reasonable kneecap protection in these scenarios, but I noticed that sometimes small rocks could press through gaps in the patella cover. Not a good sign for an accident scenario.

After three weeks of wearing the Fluids, I was dismayed to see that the padding on my left leg side had become detached from the carbon structure. It looks like heat and sweat had deteriorated the adhesive, allowing the padding to migrate under flexing.

I was annoyed to see that some of the knee padding had migrated through to the front, leaving unprotected holes. A different shape for the padding may solve the latter issue. Adding some Gorilla tape failed to solve these issues. In a product as costly as this, I would expect to get more than 20 wearings out of them before experiencing issues like this. Fortunately, the store where I bought the braces showed them to the Alpinestars rep and agreed to cover them under warranty without issue. So, a new pair is on its way and I'll probably reserve them exclusively for more aggressive trail-oriented day rides rather than multiway adventures.

Carlsbad pant
It's worth a few additional comments about the pants independent of the knee braces. The Velcro waist adjustments proved very effective and comfortable to accommodate layering tops/bottoms, and to compensate for the 15lbs I lost in a month of riding. I ended up achieving optimal weight for the pants to ensure their fit and flexibility without flapping fabric. In addition, the leg snaps for the boot area proved superior to Velcro (as on the Mojave pant) for adjusting fit around the boots.  

My two minor gripes with the Carlsbad pants are, first, the crotch area is not very flexible, and it must be positioned a precise way to avoid painfully wrenching certain more (ahem) stretchy parts of anatomy in that region. Klim could use some work with the cut of the fabric in this area, even substituting a 4-way flex material for GoreTex as a reasonable tradeoff for breathability.

The second nit--and somewhat tied to the first--is the tendency for the pants to slip down. Again, this seems to be mainly a consequence of using non-stretchy fabric with a slippery interior, exacerbated by knee braces. I ended up ordering suspenders and they help keep the pants (and crotch) in the right position.

Otherwise, the pants are brilliantly waterproof and ideal for cooler conditions. My riding partners wore their Carlsbad and Badlands suits the entire trip--but I found the gear to be intolerably hot and exhausting in the heat we experienced.

TekVest RallyMax
I ended up wearing the vest over either my Carlsbad jacket or Klim Tactical jersey, combo chosen depending on the day's temperature. After a few weeks the vest had moulded perfectly to my torso and was supremely comfortable. It offered both excellent protection and airflow, and I came to feel naked when not wearing it. This piece of gear is a keeper.

For our Rockies trip we each wore a Kriega 30 litre pack loaded with essentials (hydration, camera, ID, snacks, etc.) carried at all times. Next time, I wouldn't choose to wear a pack and would instead strap it to my bike as one our riding trio ended up doing. While my pack fit over the RallyMax just fine, the vest has its own pouch to carry a hydration pack comfortably, obviating the need for a separate carrier. Getting the additional weight of a pack off my back would significantly reduce fatigue on long days.

On hot days, the vest and jersey made a terrific swamp cooler when both garments were soaked with water. My verdict is that vest, combined with the Mojave pant and jersey, was a fantastic setup I could live in comfortably for day after day of good weather.

Klim Tactical Jersey
The jersey served me well, proving durable, comfortable, and easy to maintain by dunking it in mountain streams to rinse out the dust and renew its swamp cooling capacity. However--and something I hadn't thought to anticipate--wearing all this mesh gear allowed dust to penetrate to my core and mix with sweat, resulting in a funky mix tempered only by rapid evaporation. Always a tradeoff.

If there was a nit with the jersey, it was its interaction with my Fox Titan elbow pads. I'd opted to use separate pads instead of the Carlsbad jacket's built-in elbow armour, since I wasn't planning to wear the jacket except when raining. However, I found the jersey caused the elbow pads to migrate down my arms, ending in a position that offered only partial protection.

Otherwise, my verdict on the jersey was a solid A. Now, if only Klim would offer it in some bright colors.

New armour - EVS Travis Pastrana TP199
Having concluded that the Fluid braces are probably overkill for 80% of my riding, I started looking for a more comfortable alternative to wear under the Carlsbad pants that wouldn't also require wearing tights to avoid chafing, as happens with the Fluids.

The EVS TP199 knee armour may be just the thing. It's a brilliant combination of soft and D30-like armour stitched into a tube-within-tube configuration.

The design, which incorporates a hole in the inner sock for your patella and a breathable mesh behind the knee, ensures the assembly remains in the correct position while allowing the CE Level 1 armour to flex around your knee and providing decent lateral support. It's very comfortable and fits nicely under the Carlsbad pant. While I haven't had a chance to ride with these pads on yet, it's easy to forget they're on. My only concern is lower breathability than the braces, but this may be offset by not having to wear tights to avoid chafing.

The sides of the knee are well covered and when kneeling, the kneecap seems to offer more protection than the Fluid braces. While there are only two sturdy straps to secure the armour in place (compared with four on the Fluid), they don't chafe and prevent the armour from sliding down. The shin protection is rigid and provides further stability when tucked into the boot.

 

Overall very encouraging. I wouldn't hesitate to ride with this on my next long trip. Sizing information below. I chose L/XL, which fits me well (6', 185 lbs). 

New armour - Alpinestars Sequence jacket

Alpinestars just released this new armored jacket, and I was intrigued to try it instead of my TekVest for less technical off-road riding on the theory it would be lighter, easier to fit under the Klim jersey, and easy to fit under the Carlsbad jacket. 

The Sequence utilizes a lightweight, highly breathable mesh chassis with sewn-in CE-1 armour which includes a chest guard. It's not at all suitable to be worn by itself: it would be shredded by any minor impact. But under a jacket it should do fine. It offers better coverage than the armour that comes with the Carlsbad, as well as a removable kidney belt. You can see here how thin that mesh is around the neck.

An important limitation of this style of protection is the inability to wear layers with it, like you can when the armour is incorporated into a jacket. Not an issue for summer riding, but something to consider on a long trip. Also, I would question the durability of the mesh fabric over a long trip. It seems too easy to rip the neck area when putting on the jacket. I may modify the design to add some structural fabric in this area. 

Ultimately, this jacket may prove to offer limited utility to only certain specific riding conditions. I think I'm back to the drawing board on finding better elbow pads so I can continue to use my TekVest for all riding.