USRA Round 2: Wizard's Rhino Rally!

So for the one or two of you that might have been paying close enough attention to this blog to have noticed, you may wonder what race report this will be, since in my prep post for the 2008 season, I made no mention of the Rhino Rally as being on my schedule. (At Left, the dangers of the bomb run. This poor guy ate a lot of dirt seconds after this shot was taken.)

I had no intention of making this race yet things changed and I was able to go. I'm so glad I did because this race hooked me on the racing scene in a way that none of the others could have. The reason I ended up going was because the Wendover race in March that I had planned on going to was rumored to get canceled due to snow. If I missed the Rhino Rally, I wouldn't be racing for five months or so. I opted to go to Rhino Rally instead to make up for the March race that probably wouldn't happen (good thing to, because the March race was in fact canceled, leaving March a race-less month).

Rhino Rally is in St. George, Utah every year, usually in February, which is great because while it's cold and snowy in Salt Lake City in February, St. George was just about perfect.

I was nervous of course because due to the weather in Salt Lake City there was no way for me to ride and practice, so I hadn't been on the bike since the Mesquite race. I was able to do some snowmobiling which while it isn't the same hopefully would help me a little bit. I also had been so disappointed in my stamina at Mesquite that I had been hitting the gym really hard, so I was in a lot better shape. On top of all this though, this race had a bomb run style start, my first official one.

The drive to St. George the night before was crazy, just south of Cedar City we were in the craziest snow storm I'd ever driven through. The snowflakes were the size of golf balls and coming down fast...I think we were maybe doing 20 mph on the freeway through that mess. It was a good sign though, because while it was snowing at that elevation it was raining on the course - giving us perfect race conditions.

We stayed in Hurricane, Utah and the course itself was east of St. George. I got out to the pits with plenty of time so I took the family over to the start line (pictured below) to check it out. If I was already nervous about the bomb run start, the area we had to go through didn't make me feel any better. It was littered with tons of rock, cactus, and sticks pointed at you at 45 degree angles, perfect for impalement (sadly though, the picture doesn't show it all that well)! There were a few ditches through it to, which would prove to provide some entertainment for the spectators.


I went back to the pits to take my mind off it and began work on the bike. Since Mesquite I had had a steering stabalizer installed and some other work done on the bike and this was the first time I'd seen it since that last race. As race time neared I headed over to the area we would actually be pitting to get my bearings. This proved to be a futile thing to do.

Paul, Carlo, and a guy I met for the first time here named Von headed for the start line to catch the riders meeting. I lined up on the far right side of the line because I had found what I thought was a pretty good line through the rocks there, but Paul and Carlo lined up somewhere in the middle. Oh I forgot to mention - since Mesquite Carlo had fallen in love and had an affair with Paul's new KTM, so he now had one just like it only a tad smaller (the 450 instead of the 505). I think they lined up next to each other to see which bike would do best off the start but I don't know for sure.

At the riders meeting they went over the markers used for the race, which also proved to be futile because they had ran out of a certain type of marker and had to use another type for the same purpose. Even though they told us this, it caused more than a few people to have trouble on the course...I don't blame the Wizards at all for it, they did their best, but I'm pretty sure the markings changing out there are what caused me to have a pretty major issue at one point. More on that later.

The course was a hare and hound style race, so two loops, both different, with the race total mileage somewhere around 80. If it wasn't so long after the fact that I was writing this I'd probably remember exactly. Due to the difficulty level of the second loop, only the Amateurs and Experts would be riding both loops. The Novices would be done after one loop. This made me feel both good and nervous...thinking that I would be able to tackle that second loop just fine but wondering if it might be super hard in order for them to not let the Novices on it. At that moment they had a show of hands for each division. Not very many Experts, a good amount of Amateurs, but not a whole lot...but a freakin' TON of Novices...it was as if of the 300 riders more than half were in the Novice division. It was this moment that made me feel good about being an Amateur...I'd hate to be the sea of that insanity (I hadn't been sure of that before).

As we lined up and got ready for the banner drop my adrenaline had started and my breath got fast and short. I did a test kick start when the Experts went and the bike fired right up so I got even more nervous because I knew that if the bike started first kick I'd have to jump into the fray of the bomb run. Our line got ready, and the banner went back up. They hold it there for a minute...somehow the longest and shortest minute at the same time. As I watched the banner waiting for it to drop, everything else in the world seemed to disappear. I was shaking, my breath was so fast I felt like I was suffocating. I told myself to play it safe and just kick slowly and take it easy out there - I was there to have fun and not kill myself. However I knew myself well enough that I'd get sucked right in and risk my life for no logical reason.

The banner dropped and I kicked hard and it fired right up. I hadn't been in gear so I lost a couple seconds putting it gear and taking off. There weren't too many of us on that side of the line but I ended up beating most of them off it. However within 100 yards or so my newness to the event showed and everyone I had started around had passed me. You can see me in this video of the start here (Thanks to Carlo for the camera, and Paul's wife for filming):

At about :45 right in front of the people at the bottom of the screen you'll see the first guy from my little area come by. Then four more guys go by and I'm the last one...the Blue Tank shouldn't too hard to see in that little segment.

What's funny is from my perspective it felt like I was ahead of more than half of the Amateur wave...but watching this video shows that I'm definitely in the back half, not the front half. There's a pretty good crash early on, so you can see why the bomb start was so nerve racking to do the first time.

I'm not sure entirely how long the start area stayed like that - maybe a mile or so...but it eventually funnelled everyone onto a road. I felt like I was doing pretty good, even though I was right in the thick of things. However two guys in front of me crashed into each other and I locked up the brakes to avoid running over them. I reacted so fast that I killed the bike. While the Blue Tank does a great job starting most of the time, when you kill it, starting it becomes a super pain.

It seemed like forever to start my bike again. Of the two guys that crashed, one was okay and took off again. All the rest of the Amateurs went by and on their way. The other guy from the crash was pretty shaken up. I asked if he was okay and he said he was, but he pulled off to the side of the road and just sat there watching me struggle to start my bike. It must have been five minutes at least. In a sort of bittersweet way, the crash you can see in that video is what prevented what could have been another crash. After the Amateurs went it was the Novices turn to start...at most they would have waited about five minutes before sending them off. Meaning with the trouble I was having I would have still been there when the Novices came by. There wasn't a lot of room there - with 150 bikes pouring through the funnel and me in the way it likely would have caused another wreck involving more than a couple guys.

But since the crash during the Amatuer start was still being taken care of I had some time and was able to finally start the bike - off I went, starting in pretty much last place out of the Amateurs.

The course was amazing! I will for sure be doing this race next year as this course was right up my alley (I hear the course is more or less the same each year). It was made up of two track jeep roads, washes, 4-wheeler track, and a bit of single track here and there (mostly towards the end). And it included a section of canyon that was some of the roughest riding ever (this was part of the second loop, which the Novices didn't ride).

I quickly learned how important it is to get a good start, and why the bomb run should be attacked with ferocity. After I started my bike and got going on the course I quickly caught up to a group of racers. The wash we were in was tight enough that passing was difficult and hard to come by. I spent most of my energy riding at a slower rider's pace, which is difficult and tiring to do, and then trying to pass which is also tiring and can be little dangerous. It was frustrating catching up to different groups of riders and trying to pass - I was clearly much faster than them on this terrain, but because I had not had a good start and had killed the bike early on I was forced to deal with them.

After much work and effort I managed to pass a few of these groups. I remember it seemed like I had been riding forever and wondered how far I had come when I saw a mile marker sign: Mile 15. I was blown away. I had not come very far at all and I was starting to feel exhausted. Shortly after that I got a second wind and was able to make up a lot of ground again. I came up to another wash and got stuck behind a very long group of slower riders - probably 15 of them. Getting around this crowd was tough - obviously the guy in front was the problem, and several of the 15 were faster than him, but there was literally no opportunity to pass. Coming in at the back of this group was especially bad for me because I couldn't make small passes on one or two guys - they were all so tight together it looked like an all or nothing thing. (At Right: Carlo and I apparently share the same passion of flying over the handle bars. This is him at his pit stop trying to set the handle bars straight again since he had gone over the handlebars to...the KTM may be a lighter and faster bike, but it's not as tough as the Blue Tank!) Having lost so much time already (I had had a small crash already right after passing a small group...so I had to pass them twice) I wasn't willing to wait around for a better opportunity. Looking ahead I saw a long straightaway coming and that there was a side trail I could pass with. I immediately revved up and went straight for the side trail to pass all of the riders in this group. I was going great - got past more than half of them when a five foot deep ditch appeared in front of me and caught me off guard. I didn't react fast enough, or correctly (I should have gunned it and tried to wheelie over it, instead I hit the brakes to try and ride through it), so my front tire when down in it and I went flying over the handle bars.

This was a pretty spectacular crash I'm sure for anyone that saw it, and the pain was immediate. I had compressed against the handlebars on my chest with such force it took all the breath out of me. It took me a while to get up and get going again, and the time this cost me proved that I would never catch up to those riders I was stuck behind again. Shortly after this the wash opened up and the course changed to a much faster pace.

There was an alternate gas stop at 25 miles in on the first loop. I didn't need any gas there, but it would be a marker for how far I'd come. When I got there I was a little depressed at how long it had taken me to do so. Still, the fastest Novice riders hadn't caught up with me yet which made me feel pretty good (considering how much time I lost at the start)...that didn't last for much longer though.

Shortly after the alt gas the first Novice caught me and went flying past with ease. I figure it was around 30 miles in, and I was starting to feel the drain of energy. However having that happen was somewhat embarassing so I was able to find a little more and push a little harder. The course was on some more jeep roads which was my forte, so I showed my stuff and let loose. A couple more Novices caught up to me which only spurred me on more. We hit a straight jeep road that the course appeared to follow for as far as I could see so I passed up a couple of the Novices who had passed me.

One guy in particular didn't seem too happy that I passed him on that road. He was a Novice, but I don't recall his number...he looked like a day pass racer because his number was just on green construction paper and taped to his bike. He also was wearing a wind breaker which was unzipped so it flew out behind him like a cape. After passing him on that road he came back with a vengeance. The course markers had been mixed with the different ones they had told us about in the riders meeting for a bit now, and I still wasn't used to the new ones. Suddenly without warning the course left the jeep road; literally, there was no warning. Since this race, other races have marked upcoming corners like that pretty far in advance so you can be ready for it. This one caught me and the guy I had just passed completely off guard. I slowed down and started turning wide past the course to get back on, but if I had missed the course markers or seen them a little late, the other guy hadn't seen them at all; he must have just been watching me. He was gaining on me and working to pass me again, but since I had started turning I was now directly in front of him and nearly perpendicular to his direction of travel. I didn't see him coming, and suddenly I was T-boned and flying in the air.

The sensation was different enough that I actually noticed it while in the air. His bike had hit my leg and lifted it up off my bike, giving the feeling of being thrown into the air feet first. I don't know how far or high I actually went, but he hit with such force it felt like I had flown 10 feet up and 20 feet far. He had to be doing more than 60 mph when he hit me.

I landed hard and bad. Somehow landed really hard on my left elbow and my elbow pad has slipped off from the force of the hit so nothing protected it. I was reeling in pain. He had gone down as well, but nothing like how I had. He picked up his bike and mine, and asked how I was...even though I wasn't well I told him I was fine and to not let me keep him from finishing well (since I knew he was contending for the front of the Novice pack). Another Amateur had been behind us and seen the whole thing and stopped to check on me so the guy that hit me took off. I never found out his number or who he was.

The Amateur hung out with me for a bit and when he could tell I was coherent he went off too. I sat there and watched the majority of Novices pass me, trying to decide what to do. I was in a lot of pain, and knew I was hurt pretty bad. But I wanted to finish the race. I had finished the last race, and this course was so much fun I couldn't throw in the towell. I got back on and headed out again at a slower pace taking it easy.

At first I didn't think I would make it - every bump on the course jostled my arm and elbow about mercilessly and caused considerable pain. But after a few miles of just enduring it I finally either went numb or got used to it. Having had a nice rest and taking it easy for a while gave me a new source of energy, so I started pushing myself again, hoping to pass most of the Novices back up.

I was able to make a lot of passes actually, but the wound started hurting again and my energy started depleting. I had somewhat lost my bearings but I had a feeling I was nearing the pits. Sure enough I came up over a rise and saw them straight ahead.

When I had gone to check out our pit before the race, I saw that we were near one of the ends. For some reason I just assumed that it was the far end of the pits, and that we would be coming in on the opposite side. I have no idea why I thought this, but this is why it was futile for me to have even bothered checking it out in the first place. I had it completely wrong and backwards.

So I rolled into the pits, trying to decide if I was going to stop or gas up and do the second loop. Thinking that we were at the end, I just putted through oblivious until I could see the end - then I started looking for our pit crew. I couldn't see them anywhere and in fact nobody near the end of the pits looked even vaguely familiar. When I got to the end of pit row, I briefly considered just going out on the second loop anyways...wow I can't imagine how lame it would have been to run out of gas on that loop looking back. I'm really glad I decided to turn around.

So now I was going the wrong direction, and the pain in my arm was pretty fierce, I was exhausted, and thinking back, I must have looked delerious. Well, here's a picture of it anyways, though you can't see my face due to the helmet:I filled up, drank some gatorade, tried to tell my crash story to those around but I just got a lot of rolled eyes and comments like, "Oh we knew that Nathan would come in with a story about why he's so far behind!"

In a way I have to thank comments like that...I was seriously about to quit that race, but hearing that gave me something to prove. After resting there a while I got back in the saddle and headed off for loop two.

This loop included a place called Dutchman's Draw. It was apparently pretty well known for being extremely difficult. I have been over some pretty rough stuff in my time, so I didn't think it would be that bad, but then again nothing I have ever been over was in a race environment like this was.

The pit had renewed my energy pretty good and I set off on the second loop with a good pace. The course now was mostly jeep road, so that helped a lot too - less bumps was kinder on my elbow. A couple of stalls really slowed me up, where I had trouble starting the bike again. I really haven't gone into detail on the many times I stalled or tipped over - suffice to say I'm sure adding them all together would come to at least 30 to 45 minutes of wasted time.

As the course went on for this loop the trip through Dutchman's got nearer. It was a wash, with really large rocks. I'd go over a tough section and think I was done with the hard stuff only to have a more difficult section present itself. The rocks kept getting bigger. Much bigger. The canyon got really tight too in a couple of places, and then stranded riders started appearing. I must have passed 20 people in the canyon because it seemed like there were riders with broken motorcycles, or out of gas/oil, or just plain too beat up to keep going, all over the place.

It made me feel pretty good actually, like I was finally gaining some ground, and that I was still making it.

Dutchman's was extremely difficult. More difficult than anything I can think of having gone through prior to this, and it was extremely tiring too. This loop was shorter than the first in terms of mileage, but it felt much longer. The going through there was slow and rough. But somehow I made it through. I got my front tire stuck at one point and received help from a fellow rider, a girl, which was a humbling experience. She obviously had been faster than me up to that point, but she was stopping and checking on all the riders and helping out everyone she came to. She deserved to finish in front of me, and my ego took a nice blow that it needed that day.

In the Canyon I met a guy in my class named Clint Rogers. We swapped places going through a couple times, but he ended up in front finishing just before me. I chalked it up to him being more experienced and having more energy, but found out later he had a separated shoulder going through there. Another slice of ego removed!

But I did finish the race. It was at the same time one of the most fun courses I would ride this year and also one of the hardest. I can't wait to do it again! But due to the fun of this race I would now be hooked more than before, and happy with my choice of Amateur, and suddenly caring more about placing well than finishing. The next race wasn't on my original schedule either, but it was in early April, and I wanted to do it...the Sage Riders, the race Paul did for the first time the year before. I had to race it. I had to race every race that came my way.

I apologize for the lack of pictures. Sarah was at this race, but for some reason the camera was malfunctioning or something so she wasn't able to get any pictures. I snagged what few I could from other people (public site postings etc). (At Left: The google earth image with the course overlayed from a GPS.) I also realize I write too much too - I'm trying to be more brief, I really am. I think it would help a lot more if I were writing directly after the event. So with that I'll just plug along and get caught up, and work at it as I go. If you read all this, you're awesome!

Oh and as for the little place tracker I had put in the first race report...I still think I'll use that, but I'm not going to spend the time figuring out how this one went. I'm going to get caught up first and then I'll do it with each new race report. Next up, Sage Riders!