Don't call us "trailer trash"

I hope that this is not an indication of anything.

With the Western Contingent dropping to four this week (three bikes), it no longer made sense to take two trailers to tow the bikes so we were attempting to hunt down something that would take all three but not be 33 feet long, as is Tom's trailer. Also, we wanted one with tires, unlike Tom's. We looked over at Scona Cycle, owned my Tom's buddy and they had a trailer but the wiring was all ripped out. I know a couple of people with trailers, one a flatbed but Ken, the Lost Rider from this trip, "volunteered" his trailer, which was ideal because it is all set up for hauling bikes with thingies ("chalks", apparently) for holding the front wheel in place and rings for attaching tie down cords. Also, the back door opens down to create a somewhat steep ramp at the back and there is a door at the front for simply driving out.

It is a big trailer at 19 feet long and high enough that even tall people like Les can comfortably stand up inside. Perfect for our needs. I was somewhat intimidated by the ramp into the back and I wondered if there was a volunteer (as there were three very experienced riders at load-in) to ride my bike up for me. There wasn't, but there were volunteers to run up behind me to keep me from crashing into Les's bike, which was already loaded. As it turns out, this was quite necessary as I noticed that as I neared the top of the ramp I was very close to launching into outer space.  Tom and Ken grabbed the back of the bike and Les threw himself in front of my bike so that he would take the bullet, rather than his precious Ducati. He can, after all, heal.

 Space launch.

 Strapping down my bike.

 Ken, the Lost Rider, getting ready to hook the trailer up.