First thing first, I'm OK. Second, The Stealth Bomber is mechanically sound...only a bunch of cosmetic damage. Now the story:
I live east of St Louis on the Illinois side, so I thought I would explore a bit and find potential curves in Southern Illinois near the Ohio River. I'm confident on the new bike with about 3K miles. I was riding ATGATT on the first of three days off(before the rain rolled in). It took about 90 minutes of slab to get to some decent roads in the Shawnee National Forest. I refueled and started north of Glaconda, IL on IL-146. I saw this sign and thought I would check it out, as the road look well maintained.
After about 1/4 mile the road turned into hardpacked gravel with very solid ruts. Good to go. I've ridden on this plenty before. I climbed a steepish hill and then realized the road turned to very loose gravel on the other side. No biggie, I will just stay loose on the bars and ready to gently engine brake or rear brake if absolutely necessary. At the bottom of the hill there is no good area to turn around as it is essentially a soft shoulder 1-lane now, with the very loose gravel. So I decide I will attempt to climb the STEEP upcoming hill that looks similar to this.
I feel committed at this point and figure the park area will have a great area to turn around. I start up the hill and feel the rocks sliding beneath me. I get spooked and bring the bike to a stop. The rocks continue to slide as I'm trying to tip-toe both sides. Its just too much though and I slowly set the bike down on the right side. Cussing up a storm, I kill the engine and use the adrenaline rush to upright her. Now I'm on a very unstable hill sweating my ass off. I use my toes to drag a larger rock over to support the kickstand. It seems to hold, so I shed all my gear. I figure at this point I can Idle/walk her to the top of the hill and then turn around and coast back down to the decent area.
Popping back into 1st gear and releasing the clutch slowly only moves her an inch or two before the rear starts spinning on the dusty rock. I reevaluate and decide to try just backing down the hill walking beside her. I only get a few inches before the rocks beneath my feet and the tires are sliding down again. My left foot finally finds a large stable rock again and am able to get her to a stable kickstand position after a few attempts.
At this point I realize I am going to need to swallow my pride and find assistance, or else me or the bike will be seriously hurt. I check my phone to find ZERO signal. I start walking up the hill, because I can't remember any houses in the other direction. At the top I see a friendly local driving toward me in an old flatbed diesel Ford. He introduces himself and assures me noone will hit us, because noone else uses this horrible road.
Initially he underestimates the situation, and accuses me of not being "country strong". He thinks it's "just a plastic bike" and he can pick it up by hand and turn it around. After I let him try to pick up the front wheel of a 560 lb bike he not only realizes how heavy it is, but how much the rocks are sliding beneath us. So back to trying to back her down/turn around. We turned the bike around BEFORE reaching the bottom. Against my better judgement, with him insisting, I,mounted her and tried to get to the bottom of the hill to a hardpacked spot. He exclaims I shouldn't be riding such a tall bike, that I can't flatfoot. As soon as I released the brake and let go, she washed out beneath me and luckily fell on the same side as before. This self proclaimed hillbilly is actually yelling at me for "not having the balls to goose it and get down the damn hill". I remind him of the slippery/dusty rocks and the shear amount of torque this bike has. He doesn't believe me but is reluctantly willing to finish walking the bike down the hill with me.
I retrieve my gear and drive back to the highway with the hillbilly following. We talk for a few minutes in a more friendly manner and he gives me a local map and suggestions for areas that are more bike friendly. I try to give him a few dollars for his time. He says not to worry about it. I head back into town and stop at the only gas station to finally cool off. I put $20 in the map and tell the cashier to give it to the friendly hillbilly next time she sees him.
I ride the 2 hours back home mad and appreciative that it was only surface damage. So far it looks like scraping on the muffler, peg, fairing, cowling, and mirror. Not the worst, but still sucks.
Deciding how to handle insurance claim. I mostly want to go back to stock, because that's the look/sound I like. I also understand the stock parts/labor are ridiculously expensive and will have a LARGE check coming my way if I decide to file a claim.
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