WATVA Blogs

This was our first ride in the Hiawatha National Forest during the summer of 2010.  We enjoyed ourselves so much that I immediately began planning a follow-up ride in 2011.  There are so many riding opportunities in this general area that I could ride here regularly without tiring, and I plan to do just that!

In Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, the state ORV trails are the tip of the iceberg.  Getting off the beaten path requires more effort in planning, but is well worth it.  Now that I know this secret, I rarely ride the ORV trails.  Since purchasing VVMapping software, navigating these rides is much easier and I hate to think of the time wasted trying to do without.

A recent request prompted the reprint.  I hope you enjoy the ride as much as I did!

-Keith DK

FR2262A near the White Fawn Lodge

During the late 1800s and early 1900s, much of the Hiawatha National Forest had been heavily forested, burned, and became referred to as “the lands nobody wanted.”

The West Unit of the Hiawatha consists of roughly 522,000 acres of land between Lake Michigan and Lake Superior.  Within this vast acreage are hundreds of miles of abandoned logging roads ready to be rediscovered by outdoor adventurers.

From the Hiawatha National Forest Motor Vehicle Use Map:

“Much of the Hiawatha National Forest is remote.  Medical assistance may not be readily available.  Cellular telephones do not work in many areas of the Hiawatha National Forest.  Operators should take adequate food, water, first-aid supplies, and other equipment appropriate for the conditions and expected weather.”

“Designation of a road, trail, or area for motor vehicle use should not be interpreted as encouraging or inviting use, or implying that the road, trail, or area is passable, actively maintained, or safe for travel.”

What a perfect description of an area prime for ATV riding.  This was just the kind of Upper Michigan adventure I was looking for.

Day 1: Welcome to Thunderdome

We arrive at the White Fawn Lodge (http://www.whitefawn.com) late morning and are pleased to find our fully furnished adjoined cabins (10 and 11) are located on a private lake next to the Forest Glen Store.  Centrally located in the Hiawatha, the White Fawn Lodge is the place to stay and has a general store next door that sells or rents everything you could possibly need. 

Need to replace a moldy toothbrush?  They’ve got it-just don’t store this one in a plastic bag.  Let’s get ice cream…and some Mike’s.  Look at these maps!  Honey, can I get a generator?  Never mind, this one is for rent only.  I wonder if they stock my spark plug?  This is the biggest tow strap I’ve ever seen-and it’s on sale!  Can we move here?

We paused while unpacking to marvel at a majestic bald-eagle hovering over the shoreline.  “Is this Heaven?”  No…it’s Upper Michigan.

Surprisingly, summer is still considered “off-season” in the U.P. and most of the cabins are vacant.  With such a picture perfect setting and basic amenities in walking distance, you’d think this place would be booked year round.  Fish, hike, bike, boat, kayak, snowmobile, ATV; you’re limited only by imagination and desire.  Julie, one of our diehard riders, had the urge to put her marketing skills to good use, “There’s no reason this place couldn’t be packed.” 

With our crew eager to know where we’re riding for the afternoon, I let them savor the anticipation by telling them we’re going to the Thunderdome. 

“What?!” 

Wait and see.

We ride south on the shoulder of FF13, a scenic, but busy paved road that serves as the main north/south artery through the Hiawatha.  For a brief break from pounding asphalt, we use an old county road (Co605) that has become an overgrown two track paralleling FF13 for little more than a mile.  Even though Google maps labels this a “road”,  it’s more trail than most trails and is a wonderful example of things to come, like the preview of a movie you’ve been waiting to see.

Snowmobile trail 7 heading west from FF13 follows forest roads that are seasonally open for ATV use and is well signed, making navigation stress free.  Our headlights cut through the darkness of the tree canopy as we follow the trail up, down, and around like some wild Indiana Jones roller coaster ride.

Before long, snow trail 7 heads south and we need to continue west so it’s back to following the waypoints I pre-programmed into the Garmin.  Having a GPS in a place like the Hiawatha grants almost God-like powers of navigation; one with forest roads would be divine (hello VVMapping!).  Prior weeks and months studying the area with satellite images from Google Earth now gave reassuring feelings of déjà vu. 

The highly detailed Motor Vehicle Use Maps (MVUMs) are a necessity when traversing the Hiawatha, even though wooden road signs have a tendency to keel over from old age.  Here, this is the fun of riding on roads that aren’t “actively maintained.”  At worst, you’ll end up at a dead end and maybe discover someplace wonderful.  Tough break. 

As comforting as it is riding signed snow trails, taking the road less traveled, where there is no beaten path, is where it’s at; ducking tree branches, crawling over downed trees, following glorified rabbit paths, and skid plates clipping off daisies.  These may be called forest roads, but they were never roads by our understanding-they were made before our definition of roads existed.  Hell, most of our trails today are highways by comparison.

Bursting out of the woods, we follow 2438 to Thunder Lake Rd and turn south to what I’ve been fondly calling the Thunderdome.  Properly called the Thunder Bowl (46.125545,-86.467466) is a sand play area measuring about 225 yards in diameter with various hill climbs and steep washed out trails.  Us boys have fun doing boy things like getting stuck in 2wd and racing up the hills.  The ladies are a bit more cautious using 4wd, controlled amounts of throttle, and common sense in general.  Julie discovers a weak cell phone signal and scurries up the nearest hill with her cargo bay open, oblivious to spilling personal effects along the way while we laugh at her expense.  Only great places require you to ride twenty miles to a sandy crater to check voice mail. 

Chatting fireside at the end of the day with less than forty miles behind us, we speculate the Hiawatha may be one of the best riding areas we’ve visited, if not the best.  It’s an expanse of unpopulated wilderness and a nearly unlimited supply of unused forest roads ripe for exploration by ATV.  How could I have overlooked this for so long?

Day 2: The Big Springs

Believe it or not, it's forty feet to the bottom!

Palms Book State Park, aka “Kitch-iti-kipi” (The Big Springs) is the site of an incredible natural spring where 10,000 to 16,000 gallons of water per minute bubbles out of the bottom of a forty foot deep crystal clear reservoir.   Located west of Manistique, this natural beauty will leave you in awe.

The forest roads we used to head north from the White Fawn Lodge to the Coalwood grade were wonderfully desolate two-tracks (no-tracks in some places) that involved lots of ducking and smiles.  Many are so overgrown that it feels like cross-country riding, except for the smooth and sturdy base likely made by heavy logging equipment from past decades. 

In comparison to the forest roads, the Coalwood grade east of Highway 94 (46.340247,-86.73249) is a dud.  It’s wide and straight enough to go fast, but incredibly whooped like a highway full of speed bumps.  Maybe this is their way of keeping speed down.  As the Coalwood grade continues east and south towards Manistique it becomes the more scenic Haywire grade, although it’s difficult to enjoy your surroundings while being tossed around like a drunk on a mechanical bull.  The ladies apparently suffered the most abuse and described upper torso pains commonly caused by repeated bouncing.  By the time we reached Manistique we were exhausted, sore, and using four-letter words to illustrate the experience.   

Manistique is rich with history and scenic attractions that make it the perfect ride to destination, never mind the less than perfect ride.  The Historic Manistique Water Tower (45.963382,-86.250701) is a neoclassic brick structure that now serves as a book and gift shop for the local Historical Society.  From here you can also view the flume that redirected water to the Manistique Pulp and Paper Company and the “Siphon Bridge”, once featured by Ripley’s believe it or not.   The income generated by timber harvesting clearly had a great effect on the development of Manistique.  On our way out of town, we concluded our history lesson by eating at the 1950s vintage Clyde’s Drive-In.

Photos from Manisitque.

Patrons cautiously studied us and our flashy apparel before politely asking if we were on “some sort of cross country ride.”  It seems seeing six ATVers donning name brand riding gear is not a daily occurrence, which would explain all the beeping and waving.  I considered starting rumors such as “We’re from ATV Magazine.”

Getting from Manistique to Big Springs Park via ATVs was somewhat of a legal grey area.  County highway 442 heads west from the south side of Manistique, but eventually turns into M149, a state highway, which is generally not open to ATV travel by Michigan law.  However, a current recreational map of the area depicts M149 being open to ATV travel.  To be certain, I contacted a local ATV enthusiast (that said “good luck no one really knows”) and the Manistique sheriff’s department (that said “no problem, perfectly okay”).  Just out of curiosity, I also left a detailed message for the local conservation warden, but he did not return my call.

Based on the go-ahead given by the local authorities, we clung to the narrow shoulder of the road as much as we could while a parade of RVs thundered past.  I felt like I was riding a lawn tractor on an interstate.  By the time we reached Dump Road, traffic had me on the verge of a panic attack.

We plunged into the wooded safety and rode north towards Big Springs, expecting a local road leading to a dump.  I was pleasantly surprised to discover it being nothing more than a muddy path fit for ATVs or four-wheel drive vehicles-and no dump.  Actually, it looks like a road from a film where a serial killer would maim unsuspecting young lovers. 

Apprehensively, we rode our quads to the parking pass booth at Big Springs, half expecting to get thrown out by a less than enthusiastic employee.

“You can’t ride those in here.”

An unstoppable force meets an immovable object.

Being as diplomatic as I could, I gently ask if we could park them someplace else.

“You can park on that gravel road (pointing to Sawmill Rd) and walk in.”

Even though she wasn’t a ray of sunshine, she did save us the cost of parking fees. 

At Big Springs Park we learned a local lumber company originally used the spring site as a dumping grounds; leading me to believe Dump Road did lead to a dump in the early 1900s.  How one could dump garbage in a natural wonder such as this is beyond comprehension.

Imagine discovering a pool of water in the woods as blue as the ocean over coral sand and you’ll begin to envision the beauty of The Big Springs.  The water is so clear that forty feet appears within arm’s reach and you can clearly see the clouds of limestone sand created by the bubbling springs below.  It’s no wonder there’s so much magical folklore surrounding the history of Kitch-iti-kipi.

While getting ready to lead our group back from Big Springs, I realized my Hiawatha MVUM went rogue on the hellish Haywire grade.  Because I had been joking about leaving our crew lost in the woods prior to this, they figured this was part of some twisted scheme.  I had other maps, but not a detailed forest map, and forget about riding back on actual roads or the way we came.

Finding our way to County 437 and 442 was a breeze, but north of here I made several wrong turns.  By doing so, we found forest road 2717, an exhilarating two-track that alternately winds across grassy countryside hills and plunging through the woods.  If Bigfoot truly exists, you’d find it here.

All things considered, this was a perfect day of riding; good company, historical sites, natural wonders, and getting lost in Bigfoot country.  The kind of riding that makes other trail systems feel like a ride around the yard.

Day 3: The Waterfalls Tour

I like ATV rides with purpose and a destination, so we plotted a route to Au Train and Munising to view waterfalls that can be reached by ATV and a short hike.  Plus, some of our wives view waterfalls in the same regard as unicorns.

After heading north, we turn west on the Coalwood Grade and cross Hwy M94.  Here, the Coalwood becomes the ideal abandoned rail road with minimum width and maximum scenery.  Although smooth enough to go bullet-train fast, we take it easy to absorb our surroundings.  The tree canopy is high over head, giving the feeling of riding into an empty airplane hangar.   

Steering north onto 2482 we find what appears to be a well used forest road with a compacted dirt surface virtually impervious to wear by knobby tires, yet providing enough traction to rocket down long ear-popping descents and rail through never ending curves at ticket earning speeds.  Suzi KQ proves to be infallible in the curves and the perfect dance partner for this sort of tune. 

In no time at all, 2482 becomes 2481 and we’re in Au Train on Woodland Avenue staring at a sign that says “bridge out ahead.”  Can we jump it?   Instead, our solution is snow/ORV trail 417, another abandoned railroad grade just out of our line of sight less than 100 yards away.  Puttering to keep dust to a minimum, we’re looking for Scott Falls, but ironically cannot find it and later discover (courtesy of Google Earth) it was right off the trail (46.437103,-86.813418).  As if we needed an excuse to come back, we’ll find it next time.

Continuing west on 417, we idle through Au Train, a cozy and relatively modern looking town with a well developed Lake Superior shoreline.  I hoped for lunch at the highly recommended Brownstone Inn, but I’m not certain there’s a legal way there from 417. Rather than risk it, we go back the way we came and leave Au Train traveling southeast on 417.

With the exception of a short section through “downtown” Au Train, abandoned rail road grade 417 is autobahn smooth, turning us into speed junkies once again.  The four miles between Woodland Avenue and Ridge Road blurred past so fast that (the other) Keith riding in sweep position on his 700 Grizzly paused briefly to let the dust pass before realizing we had vanished.  By the time he caught us we were waiting at the next turn.

Mentioning Christmas Michigan (population   Truth be told, the town gets its name from a short-lived factory that made Christmas gifts in the late 1930s.  All that remains is the name and random roadside Santa sightings. 

Maybe it’s a symptom of an overactive imagination, but seeing Santa Claus displayed out of season seems creepy.  Like seeing clowns when there’s no circus around.

We stop in Christmas for a delicious lunch at Foggy’s Bar & Restaurant prior to topping off our tanks across the street and heading towards Munising. 

The local forest roads to Munising from Christmas are slightly difficult to navigate as they are poorly marked and many are overgrown.   Inadvertently, we miss a turn and end up too far south on what I suspect is snow trail 419, which becomes progressively wet and muddy nearly to the point of no return.  ATV tracks head in all directions attempting to go around the bottomless pits.   None of my maps show local or forest roads here so I can only assume we shouldn’t be here either.  It’s either plot a winched assault on Mother Nature where we probably don’t belong or concede and head back in hopes of finding Gage Road to the southwest side of Munising.

Choosing to tread lightly, we head back and eventually find our way to 576 and Gage Road through an overgrown, unmarked intersection.  Part of the way is severely washed out-with the road literally washed away-leaving me to think there must be a regularly used route somewhere.  An adventure indeed.  Next time I’ll inquire to find the “proper” way into town.

Admire the topography of the Munising area and you’ll see that Munising sits 800 to 1000 feet lower than the surrounding terrain.  This ridge follows the Lake Superior shoreline northeast of Munising and is what you see when looking at the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore.  It’s also responsible for numerous waterfalls as local creeks carve a path to Lake Superior.

Mingling with traffic in Munising was an absolute nerve-racking hell, tarnishing an otherwise picturesque town with numerous natural attractions.  If we could legally ride with traffic on the roadway at the posted speed limit it’d be a breeze.  Because of proximity to dwellings we have to ride at a snail’s pace and are left unprotected and in the way.  By the time we reach Munising Falls I rule out visiting any falls that aren’t on our way out of town.

It’s a shame really, because the local waterfalls are a great attraction and worth seeing, but not worth getting killed trying to ride there. 

Munising Falls drops about 50 feet into a small canyon carved out of limestone that is easily accessible with a short hike.  Because of the danger of falling rocks (or falling visitors), the area immediately around the waterfall is not accessible, although this didn’t stop folks from doing so anyways.   It’s a site to see and one nearly irresistible to touch.

I am NOT encouraging this behavior, only documenting what I observed!

Visiting Tannery Falls is not as spectacular as Munising Falls, but is less commercialized and allows intimate interaction, like my wife Sheena standing in the falls with her rain gear on.  Dozens of waterfall photos later and we’re on our way.

Our ride back to the lodge was uneventful, but it felt great to get back on forest roads and off pavement.  Knowing what we now know about riding in the Hiawatha and the beauty of unmaintained forest roads, future rides will focus on avoiding paved urban areas as much as possible.  Thankfully, there are plenty of sites that can be seen without competing with road-going traffic.

The Hiawatha National Forest is grand place that offers ATV enthusiasts freedom and adventure in a large unpopulated area that must be respected in order to prevent mass closure.  It’s easy to get lured where you don’t belong, simply by following what appears to be a well-used trail harmlessly following power lines.  Unless it’s an open forest road, local road, or established trail system, it’s off limits. 

Prior to our trip, I spent weeks studying maps, websites, and satellite images to learn the rules and to learn the area.  Dozens of phone calls were made and I got a lot of conflicting information.  If it keeps areas like this open, the extra responsibility is worth it.

Riding many trail systems I feel like a spectator, watching nature from a safe distance like a fireworks display.  Personally, I’d rather be the one dropping mortars into a tube and lighting the fuse with a cigarette.  This is the Hiawatha.  Let’s hope it stays that way. 

2011 FOLLOW-UP RIDE

VVMapping and a new GPS saved hours, or maybe even days of preparation for this ride and I avoided high traffic areas and state trails as much as possible.  Navigating from Christmas to Munising was still a chore, as the "roads" don't exist as mapped.  Every day we rode, it was exciting finding another scenic gem of a trail.  Be sure to eat at Camel Riders (best perch I've ever had!).  

I can imagine traveling to this area, riding the state trails and thinking "big deal-is it worth it?"  Get off the beaten path, ride the forest roads, create your own destinations, and you may swear off trail riding for good.  

-Cheers

This is illegal in Michigan, two-up riding on a solo quad.  Helmets are also required.

Yes, the general store really does have EVERYTHING...

Always on the prowl for a nearby riding destination that offers something different, Drummond Island seemed like just the place.  I had seen numerous magazine highlights of Jeep-type events there prior to realizing it was a six hour drive from Green Bay, close enough for this dream to become reality.  How could an off-road island paradise so close remain something of a secret amongst ATVers? 

Search the internet for ATV riding info on Drummond Island and there isn't much to be found.  In fact, there's more related chatter from the off-road motorcycling community.  YouTube has a few intriguing videos, one of a Humvee (of the AM General variety) in a harmless looking "puddle" that is windshield deep.  A few rock crawling videos later and I was sold. 

Located off the eastern tip of Michigan's Upper Peninsula in Lake Huron, Drummond Island is a stone throw from Canada.  On paper, it looks farther than it is, although there are parts of Wisconsin I can’t get to in the same time.  The drive across the Upper Peninsula is a pleasant one punctuated by the novelty of ferrying truck and trailer to an island.

Drummond Island’s bizarre terrain feels almost fictional, as there is a planets worth of variety on 83,000 acres.  Exposed glacier scarred rock, rich black soil, mud, boreal forest, a biological environment known as Alvar, limestone pavement, dinosaurs; okay, no dinosaurs, but they wouldn’t have seemed out of place.   

Then there’s the 117 estimated miles of DNR sponsored trails and routes as well as the Turtle Ridge Off-Road vehicle park.  I envision Corollable roads when discussing “routes”, though routes on DI are rarely Corolla friendly.  A visit to Turtle Ridge increases the challenge well beyond the level of normal trail riding, with emphasis on slippery rock ledges that plunge into mud.  Intrigued? 

drummond_island_trail.pdf

The western half of DI is mostly paved roads with nice houses, resorts, yacht clubs, and cute little Shoppes spelled properly in the Queen’s English.  The eastern half is where the pavement ends.  Trucks have roll bars and multi-colored body panels, eating establishments have holes in the porch (watch yer step!), others sell food from carnival-like trailers, and cabins that could be used to film horror movies are found in remote locations.  Naturally, we blended right in. 

After getting settled, we decided to take our vehicles for an outing to Fossil Ledge.  Because there are nine miles of pavement and the rest is mapped as routes, why burn up twice as much fuel and eat dust taking a herd of ATVs, right?  In chronological order: pavement, smooth gravel road, rough gravel/dirt road, puddles that cover the “road”, rough limestone, cursing, concern for vehicles well-being, laughing, heads banging against interior panels, maximum cruising speed of 3mph, plastic parts from previous vehicles, mirrors get folded in, and at last-a parking area that appears to have been made with dynamite.  I didn’t forget to mention signage.  Though you won’t excavate dinosaurs here, there are many plant and animal fossils from the Paleozoic era when salt water seas covered two-thirds of the North American continent.  In hindsight, traveling here by ATV would’ve taken 25% as long and would’ve probably used less fuel if our tanks leaked.

We started our first full day of riding by plunging directly into the ATV trails.  Ten miles took about an hour and it became clear that trail really meant path of rocks.  After another ten we reached a smooth and narrow Glen Cove (dirt) Road that made our crew act as they had found water in the middle of a desert-excessive celebration so to speak.  It’d be tough to hike these trails without twisting an ankle and falling without landing on something hard.  I enjoyed the rugged conditions and didn’t mind the slow pace, though covering all the trails in three days would’ve required a steady diet of Advil and may have ended in divorce or worse. 

So to recap, “route” can mean anything from a smooth dirt road to a swamp-big enough for a vehicle that you don’t mind abusing and not necessarily passable with said vehicle unless it has a snorkel (remember that Humvee I spoke of earlier?).  “Trail” means shake your liver from your loins and twist an ankle goat path made mostly of rock.  “Road” can often mean route.  Got it?

Without question, the two most popular areas within the trail system are the Cedar Swamp and the stair steps to Marble Head.  Located approximately in the middle of the trail system (N45 59.107' W083 36.048'), the Cedar Swamp is more than one hundred yards of standing water that can be three or more feet deep, complete with large floating pieces of timber.  There is an ATV sized bypass that I regret not riding-it may have been very sloppy and fun-though we didn’t need it because the swamp was around the two foot mark.  The stair steps to Marble Head are a wonderful natural challenge built by the hand of God specifically for wheeled vehicles, a rare rock crawling find in this part of the country.  While the granite overlook that makes up Marble Head is a wonderful sight, those of us on wheels are here more for the journey than the destination.

Other recommended trails include a scenic overlook (N45 59.424, W083 32.253) with a short, but crazy steep trail to the top-seriously the steepest hill I’ve seen in a state trail system.  And what do you call a two-track with water that has continuous direction, though not necessarily current?  On DI, this too is considered a route, one we affectionately named Creek Road that led to a secluded beach (N45 58.550, W083 30.509 to N45 57.667, W083 29.916).  Another beach front destination is Big Shoal Beach, perfect for casual wading and relaxing (accessible by pavement only). 

Like the island itself, info regarding ATVs and the Turtle Ridge ORV park is severely lacking, which is a shame because an ORV park of this caliber in this part of the country has great potential-so typical of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula.  Months before our trip I emailed Turtle Ridge (www.turtleridgeorv.com) without getting a response, though I concluded the Drummond Island Resort and Conference Center was somehow in charge of the place.  Long story short, we eventually were let into the ORV park and allowed to explore at our own risk, which sounds like a good thing (“have fun, lock the gate when you leave”) assuming you knew where to go and the trails were mapped or marked in some way (they weren’t). 

The park trails are arranged to utilize as much of the gnarly terrain as possible.  There’s a lot of zigzagging up and down rocky ledges, while others will skirt a large ledge with various opportunities to ascend or descend, intentionally or otherwise.  Some of the ledges are too tall for ATVs and probably just right for full-size vehicles, although this is never a problem because there was always a way around.  Most of the ledges are shaded (slippery) and bordered by damp soil (more slippery).  The Turtle Ridge website states there are trails specifically for ATVs, although without them being signed I can’t know which were which.  There’s also a nice muddy meandering trail through the woods that had me wishing for about 25 miles more.  Between exploring and socializing, we spent about two hours.

If I could change anything about our ride here, or for our next ride, I would be better prepared for the rough trails.  Sway bars would get removed to free up the suspension and both quads would be wearing radial tires.  For a group ride where it’s important to maintain a comfort zone, it would be beneficial to know the trail system so we weren’t beat to death by lunch. 

Speaking of lunch, we opted to ride back to our rental home for lunch rather than taking it with us.  Considering all the wonderful places to grill out on the trail, and assuming your lunch arrived intact, this would be the way to go. 

Like places to eat, places to stay are also located primarily on the west side of DI.  The vacation rental home we stayed in, Hepler’s Haven (http://www.heplershaven.com), is ideally located for island exploration and suited our needs perfectly with plenty of room inside and out.  We could hit the trails without excessive pavement or walk the opposite direction for ice cream. 

I wasn’t certain what to expect from Drummond Island and the Turtle Ridge ORV Park.  There’s always risk involved with trying something different.  Overall, I feel the trip was worth it and I would like to return, albeit better prepared.  Admittedly, the terrain isn’t for everyone and those of us that like to cruise briskly in comfort will be disappointed.  Personally, I own an ATV specifically for conditions that make an all-terrain vehicle the most logical choice of transportation.  On Drummond Island, that vehicle is an ATV.

It has a 127 horsepower fuel injected inline four, a four-speed automatic transmission with high and low range, a heated cab, and seats five.  At 156” long and 66” wide, it’s 25” longer and 2” wider than the Kawasaki Teryx4.  Did I mention it’s street legal?  Technically, it doesn’t meet UTV definition and would be more accurate to call it a RATV (pronounced Rat-Vee), for Roadgoing All-Terrain Vehicle. 

All for the price of $850.00, roughly $12,500 less than current four seat UTVs. 

Allow be to explain, if you will, before suspecting that I’ve lost all my marbles. 

There’s a disease some of us are inflicted with that causes one to look farther into the future than considered normal-many of us become hoarders of odd things like flashlights, for when the world goes suddenly dark.  For me, it has been contemplating how to continue off-roading with children, even though our first born isn’t yet born. 

Rather than having a fleet of ATVs varying in sizes that are quickly outgrown, requiring full-time maintenance and a winning lottery ticket, I decided a UTV would be more practical and safe.  But they’re expensive and a proper four-seater would get awfully cumbersome brush mowing the neighborhood where it would spend most of its time-I’d need to keep an ATV.  Not to mention our ATVing friends and family-we’ll still want to go on adult outings-now we need to keep both ATVs.  So much for thinning out the herd.

Exploring Wisconsin and Upper Michigan with ATVs has opened my eyes to the beauty of roads less traveled; hidden lakes and scenic wonderlands accessible only by dirt roads and a sense of adventure.  Getting to most of these places doesn’t require locking differentials and thirteen inches of suspension travel-some of the best “trails” I’ve been on are dirt two-tracks open to licensed vehicles.  Though it does require a vehicle that can get scratched and dented without regret, thus the 2001 Chevrolet Tracker pictured above.  It needed repairs that could be done affordably at home, but costly over the counter of a local garage, so the owner sold it cheap.  Cost plus parts came to $850 and labor provided quality time with Dad.

Welcome to the concept of Overlanding: “...self-reliant overland travel to remote destinations where the journey is the principal goal” according to Wikipedia.  Prior to the existence of ATVs, I dreamed of some day off-road excursions depicted in magazines such as Petersen’s 4Wheel & Off-Road.  I hadn’t yet discovered that such excursions didn't require six-figure incomes, months of vacation, and travel on foreign continents-they’re only hours away and can be affordable weekend or weeklong adventures done with minimalistic vehicles. 

No, we won’t be heading to Moab anytime soon with the Tracker and toddlers in roll bar equipped child seats, but UTVs and RATVs with second row seating are more about quality sight-seeing than catching big air.  

"Thanks to the Interstate Highway System, it is now possible to travel across the country from coast to coast without seeing anything. From the Interstate, America is all steel guardrails and plastic signs, and every place looks and feels and sounds and smells like every other place." -- Charles Kuralt, On the Road with Charles Kuralt

Honda Rincon ATVs have a reputation for abnormal knocking/rattling noises from the upper engine.  Resolution ranges from “do nothing it's normal" to complicated theories involving the relationship between ignition timing and engine speed.

I spent hours on the internet reading about alleged causes without finding any answers about why it happens or what actually causes the noise, prior to diving into the 2003 Honda Rincon with an ill-sounding rattle parked in my garage. 

 About a year ago, this particular Rincon began to knock/rattle when started cold (less than 50 degrees) and ceased as the engine reached operating temperature.  This isn't a subtle noise that could be missed; a sixteen year old girl heard it from a hundred feet away and said "that sounds really bad".  The noise would occasionally stop (with a cold engine) if the engine was briefly revved.  Listening to the engine with a stethoscope revealed the right front of the cylinder head/cam cover area as the origin. 

Proper engine oil pressure was confirmed and the timing chain tensioner was removed and inspected for travel and operation. It was not maxed out and it held position when compressed.  Admittedly, I was skeptical of a loose timing chain from the start because the noise produced sounded nothing like a loose timing chain and more like a broken valve spring, a loose valve seat, or lack of oil to the cylinder head.  To be certain, oil flow was also confirmed to the cylinder head.

Removal of the cam cover revealed no cause.  The rocker arms and related components measured well within the specified range.  Other than running the engine, the noise could not be reproduced.  The only clues found were a sharp feel to the edge of the exhaust cam follower (when compared to the intake follower) and a very small chip in the finish of the same follower. 

With the cylinder head in place, not much of the camshaft can be seen, but the irregular follower wear prompted additional scrutiny and questions.  The decompression mechanism is activated by the front most edge of the exhaust cam follower and would make an eerily similar noise when tapped on.  The frequency of the sound was correct as was the location, but what was the cause?

Understandably, the owner decided against additional exploratory surgery at that time and a year had passed before the noise became constant rather than intermittent.  Hot or cold, it sounded like something was ready to detonate.  I concluded the next logical step to be cylinder head removal for closer inspection of the decompression mechanism. 

Numerous individuals on internet forums stated that replacing the timing chain tensioner resolved the noise temporarily, with some replacing the tensioner 3 times in 1200 miles to keep the engine quiet.  Few said the noise had been resolved after the timing chain, tensioner, and camshaft were replaced-a labor intensive repair that struck me as throwing parts at the problem in hopes of one of those parts being the solution.  I decided to take another look at the timing components prior to removing the camshaft, but could find no faults.   Because I do not know the extended position of the tensioner when new, I could not accurately determine the travel remaining, but estimated it to be 30 to 50%.

Inspection of the camshaft showed the lobe height to be within specifications, though the exhaust side had signs of what I’ll call unusual scarring, with one score being enough to catch a fingernail-nothing that could cause our noise, but something of concern and another piece of the puzzle.  A similar wear pattern could be seen on the exhaust lobe follower. 

According to the Honda service manual, the decompression mechanism worked as designed, though I questioned of the smoothness of its operation and suspected it may not have been releasing properly, possibly hanging up and disengaging harshly, causing the mechanism to rattle.  Because of the exhaust lobe scarring, I felt the camshaft and followers should be replaced regardless, which would also allow me to compare the feel and operation of the decompression device. 

When the new cam arrived, I studied the mechanism carefully and could not find any differences in operation, feel, or measurement and strongly suspected the noise would still be present once reassembled. 

While fondling and spinning the replacement camshaft by hand in some native attempt at mediation-to become one with the camshaft-I had an epiphany.  As the camshaft sped up and slowed down, the decompression device would change direction enough to make noise.  This reminded me of a slow motion video I had once seen of a camshaft in operation, where the camshaft appeared to actually stop at points through its rotation, caused by the friction of valve actuation and the coinciding speed changes of the camshaft.  In reality, even with a properly tensioned cam chain, the camshaft is not spinning at a constant speed.  Also, with low engine speeds, the camshaft speed fluctuates more than at higher engine speeds where momentum begins to smooth out the fluctuation (this can be easily demonstrated by pulling an engine over slowly by hand versus a quick pull). 

What if the cam chain wasn’t “loose” by normal standards, but loose enough to cause the decompression mechanism to flutter and rattle?  I could hardly wait to get it reassembled and test my theory, but how could I adjust the timing chain tension with the engine running?

The timing chain tension device utilizes a worm gear and spring to adjust tension.  Inserting a small flat blade screwdriver into the rear of the tensioner and turning it clockwise retracts the device against the spring.  Letting go of the screwdriver from this position releases the spring and causes it to rapidly unwind, extending the tensioner shaft.  The beauty of a worm drive, by design, is that it cannot be forced to retract unless rotation is applied-at least that’s how it’s supposed to work.  In my opinion, the greatest weakness to this design is the spring.  As the timing chain and guides wear, the spring unwinds further and applies less force.  At the same time, there becomes increased slack in the chain, which increases the leverage against the tensioner.  In otherwords, the automatic tensioner progressively becomes weaker as the force against it is increased.   

By running the engine with a screwdriver inserted into the tensioner, I’d be able to increase the timing chain tension by turning the screw counterclockwise.  If I was right, the noise would cease as the chain was tightened. 

When the engine was started, I was surprised to discover my screwdriver rapidly turning in either direction-the tensioner was retracting with the uneven forces of the valvetrain.  As suspected, the noise ceased as the chain was tightened and held in position.  Because I could adjust tension as the engine was running, it was interesting to hear the noise as the chain is slightly loosened-a faint rattle could be heard that sounded like excess valve clearance (the valve clearance was set at the middle of the specified range).   So much for the theory that valves are noisy on these engines by nature. 

I disassembled the automatic tensioner to inspect for damage or wear that would prevent it from holding tension, though no defect could be found.  Because of this, I ruled out replacement of the tensioner as so many others have tried.  As the timing components wear on this engine, even though the automatic tensioner has travel remaining, I believe it can no longer retain proper chain tension.  This would explain why others could not resolve the issue for long by replacing the tensioner.  In order to utilize the factory automatic tensioner, the timing chain and guides would need to be replaced. 

When modifications are done to a motorcycle engine, such as stiffer valve springs, the automatic timing chain tensioner is often tossed in favor of a manual adjuster.  A manual adjuster allows for more precise adjustment and cannot suddenly back off tension, causing a potentially catastrophic failure.  I’ve installed several of these to various motorcycles over the years, none of which exhibited this type of noise when the chain was loose, though none of these engines used decompression mechanisms either. 

In the relatively young ATV world, manual adjusters are practically unheard of.  The bulk of these tensioners are built by American Performance Engineering, more commonly known as A.P.E. (www.aperaceparts.com).   The ATV forums I read indicate that most ATVers are not familiar or comfortable with the concept of manual tensioners-with fear of over tightening the chain being a major factor. 

As it turns out, numerous Honda motorcycles use the same automatic tensioner and APE has a replacement to fit these applications, though it is not listed on their website as a replacement for Rincon ATVs.  A company called CRU (Cycles R Us) does produce a replacement that appears to be an A.P.E. clone; even the part numbers are similar.  Naturally, I ordered and installed one and the noise is gone.  Rather than start on the topic of how to install and adjust one properly, I suggest having someone with previous experience do the install.  They can easily be improperly installed and/or adjusted, causing all sorts of trouble you don’t want.  The included instructions are very generic and do not provide enough information for a first time installer.   

So why do some Rincon ATVs have this issue while others don’t?  And why did the exhaust cam lobe exhibit unusual wear? 

I believe both questions have the same answer.

Engines that utilize the engine oil as automatic transmission fluid will place more demand on the oil and cause the oil to breakdown more rapidly-this is a simple fact of engineering.  There’s also the longitudinal engine design that dictates a unique valve train configuration, a design that I believe requires more operating friction than convention designs, especially on cylinder heads utilizing four valves.  Keeping that in mind, consider the following:

·       This is a unique engine that places additional stress on the engine oil.  High quality oil that meets Honda’s specifications should be used.  I recommend the Honda recommended synthetic.  This does not extend the oil change interval and the oil should be changed more frequently than “normal” ATV engines. 

·       As the oil breaks down more rapidly, it will also be consumed more rapidly.  Running any engine low on oil is not good; running this engine low on oil is much worse. 

·       Idling and low speed operation causes accelerated wear to the timing chain and related components.  This is why engine manufacturers recommend more frequent timing belt replacement when used in this manner.  Starters are cheaper to replace than timing components. 

The owner of this Honda Rincon rarely goes trail riding and the bulk of its use is around the homestead; excess idling, low speed operation, oversized tires, and heavy pulling.  Valvoline 10w40 oil was used-a decent oil, but wrong for this application.  Judging by the color of the oil, it needed to be changed more often too.  This certainly explains the “why”. 

How long-term of a fix this is has yet to be determined.  Because the factory tensioner was not maxed out, I believe this is a viable solution that will provide many years of trouble-free service.  This Rincon has approximately 3,000 miles on it now; I believe it will go another 3,000 miles as is, especially with high quality oil and more frequent service.

CRUT900 is the CRU part number; HT900 is the APE part number.  Both are sold at various retailers for $50 to $70.00.