12°C, 6 beaufort, gusty at times. Good day to go to the woods.
Inadvertently (how else?) chose the wrong path. It started as an undulating path, along a river. Very amusing riding: up and down, up and down. Then it flattened out and started the muddy patches. So good.
At one point the road was slid away. A slope on the left hand side led to a bypass, a single track through the woods, and a slope back to the road. This slope was unreal steep, and down of it: a muddy road, 10' wide, then the river. I took it nevertheless and since I would not be able to climb this slope back, it doubled as the no return point.
Came more mud and slick. Too much for roadriders. I slid once, twice and finally the horse went down on its left side. With effort, feet slipping, back up on two wheels and time for a breathing pause.
Went ahead scouting on foot. Seemed nothing more of the kind and there's a paved road ahead. Saddle up.
The road made a turn. There was no connection to that road. And the muddy patches were back with a vengeance: deep ruts, filled with water and slick, on either side.
So I went down, on the right hand side. With the front wheel in a rut. I saw, for the second time today, fresh fuel dripping from the tank. Heaving the bike up was pointless: the more effort the deeper my feet sank in the mud. Off to the forest, find branches to throw in the rut. Got the bike up but with the front wheel still in the rut. Time for a much longer breather.
Another scouting ahead. There were some more rough stretches ahead but they could be bypassed through the forest: a single track through the trees, slippery but doable. It came back on the road for a final challenge: a deep pit with mud on the bottom: once in there would be no way out all by a lone oneself. On the left side a narrow, foot wide, strip alongside a tree leading to safe friendly muddy but firm surface: the final leg of the path.
Wrestling the bullet out of the rut and walking it over the slippery mud to the bypass. There I could mount and ride to the pit. The strip alongside the pit, scary but short. Freedom. Pavement. Damage report. Adventure. I made it.
So ended the first serious test of riding a stock bullet through type 4. My deepest respect for my grandfather and his fellow brethren on wheels who rode such roads daily. Next time I'll take the enduro, or, perhaps, another try on the bullet?