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O yes Rob. I've had it happen on my first bike (BSA Bantam). Had to dig it out with a screwdriver. I have yet to fill Brunhilde's mudguard (fender) with mud. There isn't much room there - what were BMW thinking? Anyway, that is something to look forward to.

Some wonderful adventures to relive there Chris. Had me giggling, remembering all those little disasters that one is kind of proud to have endured or in some cases, just survived. A recent challenge: an impossible puddle with really steep banks where I had to do the 'wall of death' act at speed because the alternative was riding 50kms back through a bunch of scary creek crossings. The track ended abruptly about 100 metres later at a raging river (with no bridge-making options). I'm sure you've been there, or something like it. I love it all. Grin.

Do any of you carry a saw?

The first time a wheel stops turning is usually fun as you are not generally looking down at the wheel. All of a sudden the handling becomes impossible and the brain is trying to figure out why. By the time it does you have either stopped or fallen off.

And yes, Charlie, have been at that point several times. You bust a gut to get around , over, an obstacle because you can't face going back, succeed, thinking 'things can only get better' and then just around the next corner, over the next hill the road STOPS.

I carry a small cutting wire saw but honestly haven't had to use it. Most times have been able to make a track around a downed tree.

A funny story (now)
In the late seventies up till '81 when I bought my 1981 80G/S, I had my own "G/S". It was a 1972 R60/5 with knobby tyres and Craven panniers. I only used it for off-road touring as I had my '78 RS for the road. I was doing a three-point turn on a narrow logging road on the side of a steep hill that had ended. I ran the front wheel up the high bank and let the momentum roll me back while I turned the bars. What I hadn't realised was that leading shoe front drum brakes DO NOT work in reverse. I went very quickly across the track and backwards over the lowside loose gravel bank still perfectly upright. Luckily, I jammed in some heavy bushes about six feet below the road.
Took me 3 hours to get out of there (was by myself) and up till that point hadn't seen a mosquito or a blackfly.

I like disc brakes.

A riding partner can be very useful in the middle of nowhere.

Teehee. O yes, I can relate. Here's one.
In September 1970 (yikes, 40 years ago) I loaded everything I thought I would ever want onto my 1951 Matchless, told my mother I was going for a ride and might be some time, and headed south. On the first night while looking for a camping spot I managed to tip the bike off the edge of a track into thick blackberries over a creek. I was suspended in the blackberries, over the water, with the bike inverted and on top of me - fuel, battery acid and oil trickling into my groin. It took a good 10 minutes to get myself free but there was no way I could extricate the bike. I ran a mile or so back to the highway and tried to flag down a passing car. I gave up on that idea after about 15 minutes when I realised what I must look like - covered in scratches and oil with a wild-eyed look. I ran back and found that reserve of strength that mothers show when they lift a car off a kid. I grabbed the beast by the front wheel and dragged it up onto the track. Other things happened on that trip, including a gearbox rebuild on the side of the road, getting washed out of my tent by a midnight deluge and losing all my electrics. I arrived in Melbourne four days after setting out, right on Grand Final day. Two days later the bike was stolen, but was found abandoned a week later. A very nice policeman returned it and suggested that if he ever saw the thing again he would put it off the road.

I didn't return home for 8 years. I like to think that I am much better prepared for these types of adventures now. A BMW is a much better machine to begin with.

My swiss army knife has a very nice wood-saw blade that has done a lot of work, but there have been times when a chainsaw blade or a gelignite blade or a bulldozer blade would be more useful.

To Charlie & Chris.

What lovely stories you both shared then, sitting here on a sunday morning with a coffee in my hand, sun streaming in the windows and a grin on my face while reading through the posts... "With that battery acid dripping down on the "ole nads" charlie you should of ran miles & miles for help!!

So very good priceless photos you have there Chris to BTW, share and post up some more when you get a chance...

Airbear wrote:Teehee. O yes, I can relate. Here's one.
In September 1970 (yikes, 40 years ago) I loaded everything I thought I would ever want onto my 1951 Matchless, told my mother I was going for a ride and might be some time, and headed south. On the first night while looking for a camping spot I managed to tip the bike off the edge of a track into thick blackberries over a creek. I was suspended in the blackberries, over the water, with the bike inverted and on top of me - fuel, battery acid and oil trickling into my groin. It took a good 10 minutes to get myself free but there was no way I could extricate the bike. I ran a mile or so back to the highway and tried to flag down a passing car. I gave up on that idea after about 15 minutes when I realised what I must look like - covered in scratches and oil with a wild-eyed look. I ran back and found that reserve of strength that mothers show when they lift a car off a kid. I grabbed the beast by the front wheel and dragged it up onto the track. Other things happened on that trip, including a gearbox rebuild on the side of the road, getting washed out of my tent by a midnight deluge and losing all my electrics. I arrived in Melbourne four days after setting out, right on Grand Final day. Two days later the bike was stolen, but was found abandoned a week later. A very nice policeman returned it and suggested that if he ever saw the thing again he would put it off the road.

I didn't return home for 8 years. I like to think that I am much better prepared for these types of adventures now. A BMW is a much better machine to begin with.

My swiss army knife has a very nice wood-saw blade that has done a lot of work, but there have been times when a chainsaw blade or a gelignite blade or a bulldozer blade would be more useful.

Thats a priceless story. Funny thing with me, Ive been riding for over 25 years and all my adventures seem dull and boring in the begining and are getting more like your early ones as I get older. You`d think things would get easier not harder.