The Desert Race Diaries

2010-02-14T08:26:00.001-08:00

I just can't let it get to a year between posts. I just can't!

But I'm cutting it close aren't I? Well there are plenty of good reasons for that, but I'm not going to get into all of them just now (probably never to be honest).

To bring you all up to speed (because I know the ENTIRE WORLD is hanging on this blog just dying to know what I'm up to) as mentioned previously I now live in Washington State, in the Seattle area. When I first got here I was able to line up a bike to race and even made it out to a race and had a great time. Got to go riding a couple times, and even met Paul in Idaho for another race.

But reality quickly set in after that. Though I make a great deal more money than I was making in Utah, life is quite expensive here. Plus as I age my priorities change and money I would have previously spent on myself and racing has been diverted to other things. My goals and desire to race haven't changed, just that now I need to earn a lot more to be able to do it.

My love of the sport hasn't diminished at all though, so I'm turning to things to keep my foot in the door while I take some time to make myself worth more money to my employer (this is a subtle, or maybe not so subtle, way of saying after a long time I have returned to college to get a degree).

This brings me to the future and the goals I have set, and the future of this blog. This is, officially, the last post here at desertrace.blogspot.com. My blog will continue however, officially located at Furiousbros.com. I will leave all these posts here though, for anyone's viewing pleasure.

While there is a lot of time and races and rides that have gone unreported, I'm going to have to just let the past be in the past and start with a clean slate.

So for my continued musings on the sport, and my involvement in it, and what the "Furious bros." is all about, I invite you to continue reading me there! Until my first post there, adieu.

Furious bros. attacks the GNCC!

2009-03-05T08:07:00.007-08:00

But not the way you're thinking! That would be pretty awesome if Paul and I were to go and go a GNCC. But the cost would be quite prohibitive since the GNCC is an east coast circuit and we're here on the western side of the country.

But Paul and I are not the only brothers in the family. We count any other brothers as Furious bros. also, and so it is that our brother Matt attended Round 1 of the GNCC a few days ago. However he wasn't there to race, but to take pictures as he's trying to explore new avenues of his craft (he's a photographer by profession).

He got a lot of great shots, here's a sampling of them. Enjoy!

The Future of the Desert Race Diaries: Part 1

2009-02-28T18:36:00.007-08:00

Well I'm pushing 3 months since a post, figured I should update or something. ;)

A great many things have changed since the last post, all of which will affect this blog. My intention is to keep the blog up and running and with new and exciting things regarding my passion for racing, but they will be...of a different flavor. No worries! I'll explain.

First though, I should explain what has changed! Two major things: The first one is we have welcomed a new baby boy to the family! Benjamin Liam Day was born on Sunday, February 22, 2009 at 8 pounds 8 ounces and 21 inches right here in our Murray home. He's perfect and he and momma are doing great. This awesome new arrival affects yon blog a bit - for example there was a race today that I didn't go to as a result of having a new baby in the house. But future races likely might not have been as drastically affected had change #2 not occurred.

The second major change was that in January I lost my job. Lucky though I had begun the internal process of applying for a new job before the layoff that affected me, which kept me in the considering for a new position, which I just recently was offered! That will affect this blog the most though, because the position I was offered (and accepted) is not in Salt Lake City, nor anywhere in the State of Utah. It's in Washington (Seattle), far away from the USRA and Utah deserts and desert racing scene.

But these are not negative changes. Benjamin is a great addition to the family and we are so excited to have him! And the new job has a great many more opportunities than my previous position had, so with any luck I'll be soon fulfilling my Husqvarna dream and racing one of their bikes in Washington. Speaking of Washington racing - there's a lot to be had up there! And from what I've found so far, a lot of pretty cool stuff (might want to mute the music on that video) too. There seems to be a great deal of single track and woods riding, which is great because it's fun riding but I also need a lot of work and practice on it as it's been a point of weakness for me so far.

The only real negative thing is that the move and new position will mean I'll have to put my racing, and riding, on hold for a while. It's a little more expensive to live up there and while I'm getting a pay increase it will only just barely cover the new expenses. It will take a promotion before I'll be able to ride and race again (at least as much as I want to, there may be random opportunities here and there), but that's not too bad as I will only be more motivated to make it happen as a result!

So what is the future of the Diaries? I should say a pretty decent one - so do not despair! For starters I have a lot of catching up to do before I can even pick up with new updates. My last post about the Sage Riders Dam Good Race was never fully done - there's a lot of links I didn't include (I think lol), and my sister Rachel was there taking pictures and I never posted any of those. There was a pretty epic ride with my brothers and dad that took place after Thanksgiving that I wanted to report on. I also raced my first ever motocross race in the Utah Wintercross which was awesome (and addicting!), so that deserves a post. And there's already been a USRA race in the 2009 season that I've attended which also needs reporting. There were more posts that I would have done had I been up to date, such as my plans for the 2009 racing season and such, but as those plans have now changed there's not a lot of point in a post like that. ;)

But that's just the beginning to get caught up. I have some pretty good plans for the blog when I get to Washington, but this post is already way longer than intended so I'll save that for when I'm caught up. Stay tuned!

-Nathan

USRA Round 10: Sage Riders Dam Good Race

2008-11-16T19:42:00.002-08:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5-yq5c2LJ-Y (be sure to click "watch in high quality")

After reading and hearing about this race from last year I had all but decided to skip it this year. Didn't sound like a good time to me at all - there were horror stories of whoops, sand, whoops, sand, more whoops, and lots more sand. But I had to chance to take 3rd in points for the year in my class by going to it so I figured I'd take that chance. I have improved significantly over the year and learned a lot so I figured I'd be able to tackle this one and do well.

I had a great start but quickly got out of control and lost a lot of places. A mile or two into the course we got next to a road where I started making up a lot of ground. I was doing great and going fast and passing guys left and right when I suddenly found myself looking at the guy behind me, and he was upside down! Actually I was one upside down, midway through going over the handle bars. I really have no idea what happened to make me do that. Seemed like I was in the air for the longest time, then I finally smashed down hard on my head.

This made me pretty delirious for a time. I sprained both wrists and hands in this crash due to my stubbornness of not letting go of the handlebars. The front part of the bike crashed down on part of me when I landed as well. The guy behind me either jumped off my bike over me or actually drove over me or something, but he did stop a moment to see if I was okay before going (kinda funny - he knew it was a bad crash which is why he asked if I was okay, but he didn't stick around long enough for me to give him an answer, not that he could have heard me since we were in the middle of the pack of Amateurs).

All those people I passed passed me up until the last Amateur went by me (excluding Carlo - he was still in the pits I think trying to start his bike). I stood up to get my bearings wondering if I could even finish at this point and kind of bummed about it. I looked over at the start and saw the dust from the Novices and thought I should at least get out of the way when they come through.

Trying to start the bike wore me out even more...I felt like I had done 100 miles already at 100% - in other words, I was spent already. However when I got going again I felt like I could ride okay. The sprains weren't that bad (haha thanks adrenaline!) so I figured I could finish. If the guy I was hoping to take 3rd place away from DNF'd, a finish should give me enough points to beat him for the year.

Surprisingly I was able to ride plenty fast and caught up and passed a lot more AM's until crash #2. The course had about 50/50 of sand (meaning deep sand dune type sand, usually accompanied by whoops) and slick rock. The slick rock was pretty cool, but also very technical. There were several spots where there was a one to two foot ledge you had to go up. Those aren't something you can climb - you just pop the front tire up and over and gas it to have your back tire come up and over with momentum.

It was one of those 1-2 foot ledges we had to climb in the slick rock that caused crash #2. It had a bit of a bottleneck on it, so in an attempt to make several passes at once and show my expertise I took a little more difficult path through it only I did not have enough speed. As I was about to go over backwards, I instead just gassed it and threw the bike forward and watched it bounce off the rocks a few times. It didn't stall though so I just picked it up real quick and kept going, obtaining my goal of making those passes, but not looking so expert.

Didn't take me long to figure out I had bent the handlebars (further inspection proves I did not in fact bend the bars, they just felt like I did I guess) by doing that, as well as the clutch lever. Took me a while to get adjusted to that.

I kept pushing and made more passes. Surprisingly I was doing really well with the technical slick rock, and not so good in the sand. While sand is tiring to ride I DO know how to ride it and have in times past been pretty good at it, but whether it was the back tire on my bike (which I have come to not like a great deal), the weight of the Blue Tank (a likely culprit!), or maybe my new bent handlebars, I was struggling in the sand a great deal to say the least.

I made a pass on two guys on a corner going into one of the slic krock areas, and these two guys figured they were faster than me so they pushed hard to get the pass back. In one of my more genius moments in life we got to a point where the course markings had fallen down and it was harder to tell where to go. I could tell they were just following me and not actually looking for the markers due to a few attempts to pass me on corners and missing the course as a result.

I took the opportunity here to deliberately get off the course a bit. I then stopped, looked around, and shook my head. They figured it out pretty quick that we were off course and turned around. I then turned toward where I knew the course had gone and got rid of those two pests. :) I didn't see them again until I had a stall that cost me a lot of places later on.

Making more and more ground on some of the more difficult climbs in the slickrock made me feel good, and my day was really made when I saw number 101 Open Amateur - he's the one I was fighting for 3rd place overall in points. I put the moves on and got by him and then forgot my wrists were hurting and my bike wasn't normal. I was now ahead of him and all I needed to do was make that distance greater.

He didn't like that though and he turned it on as well. Despite the fact my 4 stroke is a loud beast and I generally can't hear 2 strokes behind me, I could hear his 2 stroke right on me as he was staying right with me. I pushed it and started hearing a couple other bikes in the mix so I thought I might be gaining some ground. Then I came to the spot where it was a 2-3 foot drop into the wash.

It caught me off guard so when I landed in it I stalled the bike. #101 got by me here and I never saw him again sadly. I couldn't start the bike for the life of me and I lost probably 15 places.

Finally getting it going again I took off with a vengeance in hopes of catching him again but it was to no avail. All the kicking I had done between that stall and several others, in conjunction with the first crash was starting to take it's toll on me. I was exhausted.

I still passed a few people on my way back to the pits despite the fatigue. I got a nice rest getting gassed up and headed out for a second loop. I was still making some more ground when I got back into one of the slick rock areas where my fatigue worked against me and caused me to have a stupid tip over. It couldn't have happened in a worse place though, because my boot got caught on the peg on my way down trapping my leg under the bike, making the Blue Tank's heaviness essentially throw me to the ground with the bike on top.

My right thigh hit the slick rock just right - gave me a nice bruise that is super deep. Trying to start the bike after this was an exercise in self-torture. It was my right leg that I had landed on and bruised and now kicking the bike was like stabbing myself with a knife. I basically called it at this point, making it my only goal to just finish the race and hope #101 gets a DNF (terrible to hope for another racer to have problems, but when you're out for points, it's a shark tank out there!).

I rolled through the rest of the course at a leisurely pace, occasionally turning it on when my leg wasn't hurting so bad. My wrists were starting to come to life as well in terms of pain - every bump and every whoop and every variation in the slick rock was just pure pain in several places at once.

I had a couple more dumb tip overs due to washing out in corners and going to put my right leg down to keep myself from falling only to have it give out on me. Stalling it and trying to bring it back to life just more torture.

Then I saw a sight that made me oh so happy - an Expert...one of the leaders. In fact the leader had already passed me but since I didn't recognize his number I wasn't sure if he was the leader. But the guy coming up was someone I knew - #2, Jason Gomeric. I was now certain that no matter what I would only be doing 2 loops.

I through the rest of the course getting passed by several more experts. The course was drawing to a close as was the race and with it the 2008 Desert season. I had done much better than I think was realistic to hope for this race after that first crash, but not as well as I know I am capable of.

The last few miles of whoops were pretty brutal on my leg and wrists, but I rolled in and got my finishers pin. The Sage Riders put on a great race, and had I not injured myself and worn myself out so early on with many preventable stalls and the crashes including the over the handlebars crash spectacular within the first couple miles of course, I'm sure I could have finished pretty good and possibly good enough to have clinched that 3rd place overall in points for the season. But that's the nature of racing, you never know what will happen and when things go South you have make the best of it.

Race Report: Grand Junction Fall 2008 Snakebite Hare Scrambles!

2008-11-06T17:28:00.005-08:00

(Yes, I am so awesome for editing with awesomeness, and much awesometry. Props to Dalin for the mad filming skills. Sorry for lack of pics...hopefully the awesomeness of this awesome video that displays how awesome I am will make up for it.)

In the beginning, there were the Buzzards, and they had a race scheduled for November 1, 2008. But then the flood came. The flood of what, I know not, but for one reason or another, and possibly many, the Buzzards were forced by the hand of Him Who Shall Not Be Named that goeth about canceling USRA Desert Races (he's not named because I don't think anyone knows who he is, or whether or not he actually exists, or what his name is).

So with no race that weekend my wandering eyes were forced to look elsewhere, and found browner (in this hobby, that's a good thing) pastures on the other side (in this case, the CO/UT border). The Bookcliff Rattlers Motorcycle Club of Grand Junction, Colorado were there to fill in the gap by putting on their Fall 2008 Snakebite Hare Scrambles.

This intrigued me a great deal - it would be a short 15 mile loop, timed 2 hour race, and including a motocross track. Very similar to the Bull Hollow race in June this year, a race which I liked a lot. So I got everything arranged and ready to go and on Saturday night I loaded up with my good friend Dalin and we drove out to Grand Junction, a four and a half hour drive.

There would be quite a few other USRA races showing up to get their race fix like me, so there would be familiar faces to hang out with, but as an added bonus it would be fun to race against people I didn't know, and see how I fared in a foreign market.

We rolled in after dark, set up camp, and tried to fall asleep amidst the loud camp music and beer celebrations that were occurring.

Thanks to daylight savings (actually no thanks...I hate daylight savings more than anyone I know) I was able to get up a little earlier than planned to get ready. I registered for the race and did some work on the bike while I waited for Dalin to get up so we could grab breakfast.

Had I asked a few more race workers a few more questions, I would have been gearing up to go out and ride on the course. They were allowing a one-lap pre-run of the course for $10, which in my opinion would have been totally worth it. Instead I didn't know about it and woke up Dalin and went into town and got breakfast.

When we got back I saw loads of people taking their pre-run, but I was too late to get one in. I went back to work on the bike to check the bolts and fix my stuck throttle among other things. The Novices and women were scheduled to start at 9:00 a.m, Amateurs/Experts/Pros were schedule for 11:00. I had chosen to enter the Expert Under 30 class for a variety of reasons, chief among them was that I would be one of the first off the start line, so there would be a much lesser chance of slower riders in front of me and a lot less dust. I also chose that class to see how I'd fare against Experts, since I consider myself faster than a lot of the Experts in USRA.

I borrowed Carlo's video camera so Dalin could get some good footage. Since the Novices were going separate I broke out the camera and got some footage of their starts. One of our USRA buddies would be racing in the women class so we made sure to show our support.

After the Novices took off Dalin took his jeep out for some play time and I finished working on the bike. The area the race was in was really neat because there were trails everywhere, so I finished up the bike, got geared up and went out for a ride before the race to get warmed up. I had installed some new hand grips and wanted to try them out a bit, and also spend some time trying to get used to the dirt - it was kinda slippery.

11:00 am came up fast and before long I was lining up on the start. They had us start by class so instead of a big line of Experts I would only be starting against four other guys. The only line in front of mine was the pro line, which had seven or so riders. I was starting, at worst, in the 12th position overall. Not too bad!

They used a similar setup as Bull Hollow with a start light. What was different though was the time between starts. I'm used to longer times, around one to two minutes. They started us on a minute, so simply the next minute that came around after they had checked us for the start. I think my line had about 15 seconds before the light turned green. Kinda caught me off guard, but I was able to react quickly.

The Blue Tank hasn't liked starting in gear for more than six months, a fact I've just started to accept. After blowing it at the Knolls Knockdown start, I decided not to chance it this time and left it in neutral. I got a one kick start, but getting it into gear took way longer than I would have liked. As a result I was last off the line by a split second and got beat into the first turns handily.

I quickly realized I had entered a class over my ability by a long shot. A few turns into the motocross track I was being left quickly behind. I think that had I practiced that morning I might have fared slightly better, but there is no denying the riders in my class were better than me. I felt okay though - I was getting hopefully a minute or two ahead of the next line, which would get me to the desert loop and hopefully there I could make some ground.

The course was really fun. I had been warned by some of the USRA guys who had a chance to ride it in the morning that it lacked in a few locations in regards to markings, and that there were a few sketchy points. As a result I took the first loop a little easier than I might have if it had been a USRA race. In USRA, I'm racing for points so I care a little more about my finish. With this race I was there for fun and practice, and didn't want to injure myself in the process.

It was like many of the races so far this year, whoops, more whoops et al. But there was plenty of respite from the whoops in that there was some really nice single track and some really fun washes. Not to much high speed stuff which hurt me a bit, and a couple singletrack razorback hill climbs, which definitely aren't my forte.

It wasn't long before the fast riders from the next line caught up to me. I maybe got five miles into the course before I was caught. Then a few more here and there. One of the USRA racers, Jeff Boyd (might remember him from his magic bike I borrowed a couple races back), caught me about seven or eight miles in. He had started with the 40+ Experts and was two rows behind me. He's closing in on 50 years old and he passed me like I was standing still. The guy can rip (he placed eighth overall this race by the way) - I hope I can be that fast now, let alone when I'm an "old guy" (bit of a play on words here - his license plate is custom and says OLD GUY on it).

I kept track of my overall position until I started drifting past 20th or so. Losing that many places got me geared up to push a little harder so by the end of the loop I had gotten a little tuckered out. But now I knew what was ahead because it was just repeating what I just did until the time limit was up.

I pushed much harder the second loop and took advantage of everything I had learned about the course the first time through. I made a few passes as a result, but there were still a lot of fast guys behind me that were catching up. Again not wanting to hurt myself in a race I wasn't racing for points (and glory!!!!) anytime someone that came up on me that was obviously faster than me I simply let by. I think this surprised some riders as I got many enthusiastic waves from those passing me.

I had planned to pit after this loop and Dalin was ready for the pit. I came in and filled up, got new goggles, and a few shot bloks for some additional energy needs.

Out on the third loop I didn't see as many riders. I made the occasional pass on someone who was running out of stamina and then got passed by a few more guys that had been fighting through the ranks to pass me.

I was feeling pretty good at this point - still plenty of energy and best of all I hadn't crashed yet. I was careful to try and have a crash-free race, something I have never done on the Blue Tank.

There was a guy approaching me most of the third loop and when I started the fourth loop I decided the buck stops here. I pushed hard to get some distance on him and never saw him the rest of the loop. A couple times I caught a glance on one or two guys ahead of me, but other than that never saw anyone else.

I did see someone this time though, someone I've never seen before but always heard behind me. That's right, Mr. Phantom Rider made his appearance this race. On the fourth loop I glanced behind several times when I heard Mr. Phantom approaching, and what would you know, there he was! I want everyone who has ever heard him before to know that he rides a 2008 YZF 450 special edition.

It was so crazy - I heard him so many times, looked behind me, saw him coming up fast, pulled over a bit and looked back again and there wasn't anyone there. I'm getting old or delirious or both!

About five miles from the finish I was feeling really great because I had not crashed nor stalled the bike once. About twenty feet from having this thought I came up over a little hill out of a wash and a giant gust of wind blew a huge dust cloud right into me. This was a tricky spot in loops past and with this dust cloud visibility quickly went to zero. I panicked and tried to stop quickly but stalled the bike. So much for that goal.

But I didn't crash so I quickly started it back up and kept going. The wind had picked up considerably and on one of the last stretches of trail before the finish it was blowing so hard I thought it might blow me over!

I rolled in to the finish feeling good, but beat up too. My new grips had ripped my hands to pieces in ways I've never experienced. There's always something I guess.

I ended up finishing 35th overall, third in my class, the last person to complete four loops. The Bookcliff Rattlers put on a really fun race, and many thanks to them for having me and my USRA friends! One thing I really liked was the way they did their checkpoint - it was a barcode scanner. You put a sticker on your helmet with a bar code and when you come through they simply scan it and you keep going. This was great because it gave live and official race results at the end of the race - so no waiting for two or three weeks like some of the races this last season.

In a week I'm in Page, AZ for the last race of the 2008 season. I'm sad to see it coming to end...I may have to be crazy and try a motocross race or two this winter to get my fix...

USRA Round 9: Knolls Knockdown Hare Scramble

2008-10-17T15:42:00.005-07:00

This is a crazy sport. I usually have that thought while in the bomb run each race, but it occurred to me several more times than normal this time, and at many different times. (At Left: Pit Row in the morning...WHAT) The funny thing is every race I think I've learned enough from the previous races to do everything right next time, then next time comes and it's so completely different from anything I've done before what I've learned has little application. A tribute to my naivety to be sure, given that in reality this is only my ninth race ever (unless you count my half of a race from last year with Paul). Funny...I only intended on doing five this year.

Knolls is west of Salt Lake City about 80 miles, sort of a barren sand/salt waste land - perfect for an OHV play land. I wasn't terribly excited for this race because since it is so perfect as an OHV play land it's completely whooped out, and as you might be aware by now I'm no fan of whoops.

Originally we were going to have Ethan race this one as his first race, but then he did the Cow Dung impromptu so we weren't as set on that anymore. Luckily I didn't sign him up early, as the race date got closer the weather report looked more and more ominous with forecasts for rain. Not the most fun environment for a six-year-old to race in.

So we opted out of camping out for a family weekend again and at 5:30 a.m. Saturday morning I loaded up with Carlo and headed out. It wasn't raining when we left, but it was cold. I had purchased a good rain coat and pants the night before so I wouldn't get soaked at the race, and I needed such items anyways for other purposes.

As we got closer to the riding area something started falling from the sky. I had come expecting rain...what was falling wasn't rain. It was snow. And it was falling fast and hard. I had driven through snow on the way to race before, back in February, but I wasn't worried about racing in it then. When we were driving through it we were losing elevation so I knew the snow wouldn't be at the race. This time however elevation really wasn't changing...the snow was going to be present at the race.

As we pulled into the pits I was reminded that at least I wasn't the only crazy one. There were plenty of people there and more arriving all the time. We are all crazy! It was so cold when we got out of the car, and the wind was blowing hard and visibility was really poor.

We got an early start to the shenanigans. The mini's race was about to begin and Paul and Carlo being Desert Foxes had to get out to where they would be working. Due to the cold and KTM making the amazing decision to not include a kick starter on their motorcycles, it wasn't long before we drained the batteries of both Paul and Carlo's bikes, which meant we got to get out the tow rope and pull start them both.

I forgot to mention, the Blue Tank has been revived and so we had it with us. Yet even fresh from the mechanic's shop it had a hard time starting in the cold and it took Paul and I a couple attempts each to get it fired up. As for it's problems - turns out when we had done some engine work on it back in the summer to help the starting problem we dropped a tiny metal piece down into the engine, which then proceeded to tear the stator apart. Murphy's Law strikes again!

Two days before the race and a very large repair bill later the Blue Tank was back and ready to race. After Paul finally got it started we proceeded to try and pull start his bike. Where we had parked had a good 4 inches of snow so traction was terrible and I just ended up spinning out on him a lot. We tried going down pit row to no avail either...we just couldn't get up the speed. After several failed attempts we eventually broke Carlo's tow rope.

It then dawned on Paul to use the graded rode we drove in on. It was frozen hard, not made of sand, so provided the traction needed to build up speed. Using a couple of tie-downs we went back at it. After a few tries with stinging cold and windblown eyes we got it started, so Paul took his bike to help Carlo start his.

As they were headed off to work the mini race I got started setting up my pit area. With the foxes running the race, my normal pit crew would not be able to help out. I should really get a permanent crew anyways, but I certainly don't blame anyone that wouldn't want to do it. I had fun pitting for Paul his first race, but now I'd much rather race than wait around for someone to come in. I need to find a couple people that can have a good time hanging out together who don't want to race to do it. If you know of anyone let me know!

Expecting rain, I had brought my mom's easy-up canopy. This turned out to be one of the best things I did in preparation for the race. Due to the wind I had a difficult time getting it set up, but after much trial and error I was successful. (At Right: The lineup at the start) Since we arrived early I had a lot of time prior to race time with not much to do. Much thanks to Gary who is another Desert Fox we parked by. He had a trailer there and I spent a good amount of time in it out of the weather. Also thanks to Steve who I rode out to the race with since Carlo's car was a bit crowded, as well as for the set up with the canopy. I used his trailer to prop the canopy in place so the wind wouldn't blow it away.

I cruised around the pits a bit to warm the bike up and saw a few setups that inspired me. I went back to the canopy and tilted the wind side down and then put up a tarp against the wind. This gave me a place to park the bike in complete shelter, which was useful as I had to switch out the air filter and didn't want a bunch of snow getting in there. A little bit more routine maintenance and I was set.

I went out and walked the start and made sure to pick my line and get it this time after my debacle at Cow Dung. But as fate would have it, the way this start was set up it really didn't matter a whole lot where you lined up - it just was wide open snow/sand.

In truth though this was actually the best start setup I've ever seen, granted I haven't seen many. But it was the most fun, and great for the spectators too. Wide open and flat for the first little bit, the bomb run then snaked around several large sand dunes, so it took a while for everyone to filter through onto the course making it last longer than normal.

The mini race finished up and my race was about to begin. I dressed up and the bike was ready and it was cold, but I was racing anyways! Originally this was to be more of a hare and hound style race with different loops, but due to the weather they changed it to a three loop hare scramble so that it wouldn't be as hard to get lost and they'd have a smaller area to look through for finding anyone that got lost.

Carlo brought his camera to film the starts, so you get to see what an amazing sight this was. It truly speaks to the near insanity of all desert racers, the fact that we would continue out there in weather like this. But it gives stories that will last a lifetime for sure, so I guess it's all worth it in the end. I did the editing, and borrowed a few pictures from those at MotoUtah that came to watch/work/race. Enjoy:

Go here and click "watch in high quality" for a crisper picture.

I was worried about the bike not starting. Every time I turned it off and tried to start it again it took a few kicks to get it back to life. My worries proved correct - when the banner dropped I got nothing from the bike. A few kicks later it roared to life and I tore off the line. I wasn't the last Amateur, but I was near it.

Whether it was the poor visibility (quite likely) or just general timidness (even more likely) I was able to get to about 25th position by the first turn. If you listen carefully in the video above during the Amateur start you'll hear Carlo say, "There he is!" and then pan back a bit and follow a rider that's taken a wide line on the first turn. That rider is me. I tried to drown Carlo out when I edited it but he talks kinda loud and he was holding the camera so you can hear him. Keep it down next time! Haha just kidding - if you hadn't said that we never would have known for sure where I was in the mass of riders.

The bomb run wound around the dunes for four or five turns, and by the time we got out on the course I had moved up to about 14th or so. That's just a guess mind you, but I know I had made a lot of passes by then. I was sad the bomb run was over already - that was easily the best bomb run any race has had this year.

Since Knolls is such a heavily used area and it's mostly sand dunes, the course was on a wide enough trail that passing was neither difficult nor dangerous. As a result I kept moving up the ranks. I don't know what pushed me, but for some reason I was driven much more than normal to do well. I kept passing and passing, and suddenly I noticed there wasn't anyone else around. I had passed a fair number of Experts by this time as well.

I suspect that I was either first overall Amateur or second or third with the guys that were in front quite far ahead. I was feeling great and couldn't wait to come through to the home check point to see Paul and Carlo (where they were working) and the look on their faces when they saw how good of a position I was in.

While the bomb run was the best ever, I can't say that about the course. Due to the snow the traction was actually great (this wouldn't last however). Normally I would dread sand that deep but the snow made it really nice to ride on. What wasn't nice was the whoops. For two reasons - one, that they were the biggest whoops I've ever seen. Occasionally I swear there would be one four or five feet deep. The second reason the whoops were bad was they weren't spaced like the whoops in Jericho where a lot of the races are - there was absolutely no rhythm to these beasts, making them extremely hard to ride fast through and conserve strength.

Despite it all I was still riding fast and feeling good. Paul and I have this little start line ritual of giving each other pep-talks. At Firebird's last spring I gave him a strategy to win and he related later thinking was he was executing said strategy that I was right about it. Karma worked it's way around and this time he gave me a pep-talk. In essence he told me that he knew I was the fastest Amateur there racing that day and that I could win this one. As I was out in front feeling pretty sure that I was in first overall position for Amateurs I remember thinking, "He's right! Paul is right!"

As Murphy's Law would have it though, it was only a short distance after thinking this thought that I had a run-in with a large sage brush. The only consolation to all the whoops on this course was that they were broken up by sections of dry lake beds where I could open it up all the way. These provided brief respite from the whoop section, plus a chance to show my strength. As dumb as it is, I'm not afraid to open it all the way up and so far in my experience a lot of the Amateurs are. This is likely an effect of all my riding experiences growing up in places like Baja with fast jeep roads. I'm right at home opened all the way up.

On the down side, these sections would end all too quickly for me and I would usually come flying into the next whoop section going way faster than I was comfortable with in whoops. As it happened I thought I was first overall Amateur and thought that using the lake beds to put distance on my opponents was the best idea. I came in from an especially long lake bed into a section of large whoops going very fast. The course had a couple turns at this point in the whoops and I made the first one just fine but the second I turned too soon and collided with a very large sage brush.

Most of the time when that happens I can just ride through it as if it were another whoop. This bush was different and it basically catapulted me and the bike across the trail and halfway up a small hill. I am sure I looked like superman while flying through the air.

The impact wasn't bad - it was a very deep sandy area and so I landed on my chest and knocked the wind out of me a bit but otherwise was fine...except suddenly my eyes were cold and I then saw my goggles laying a few feet away completely covered in sand.

The bike was still running, so I grabbed my goggles quick and went to put them on only to dump a bunch of sand on my face. They were worthless now, so I wrapped them around my arm instead, figuring if I just kept a good pace I might lose a few positions but I could get them back second loop when I got a fresh pair of goggles.

I went to pick up the bike but for as much as I love the Blue Tank, it is one heavy beast. Being on the downhill side picking it up was difficult. Luckily I had put more distance on those I passed than I thought, but by now they were starting to trickle through. I kept track of them for the first five or six. Then a pack came through all at once and I lost track.

I simply couldn't pick up the bike. My footing kept giving way and I couldn't get any leverage on it. I noticed during this as well that my left hand had gone completely numb. As I was moving my arms a lot suddenly in an effort to get the bike up the feeling started coming back and that was ridiculously painful. The pain just energized me in anger and I found the strength needed to pick up the bike. I noticed the first Novice pass me at this point, which only further fueled my anger. I hopped back on and let loose but didn't move. Being on the hill, the sand being deep and soft, I simply dug a nice hole for my back tire to get stuck in.

I dug it so deep so fast I couldn't even tip it over to try and get it out. More Novices pass me and I'm now leaving the anger stage and getting to the depression stage. I pictured myself rolling into the home check to Paul and Carlo just shaking their heads. I was in first and I blew it.

To get the bike out I popped the clutch and forced it to do a wheelie and fall over backwards down the hill. This got it out of it's hole and stalled it, but put me in a position to go forwards. It took a great deal of effort to start it again, but I did and finally got going.

The rest of the loop was pretty uneventful, aside from my eyes stinging when I tried to go faster and the snow getting in. When I was in the whoops I could go at a pretty good speed and it didn't bother me too much but on the lake beds I had to putt through cause the snow was just too much.

Despite all this I was able to pass most of the Novices that had passed me. The official results aren't in yet, but I think I got them all back except maybe two or three (results are in now...I got them all back but five). (At left: Loop One, Check Point Four. Goofy Grin, Snot-Faced, the Happy Racer that is me.) I could be wrong, it's hard to tell, but I made a lot of passes surprisingly. I also got back a lot of Amateur positions as well.

As cold always does I started getting super runny nose syndrome. I rolled into check point four (see picture above) feeling pretty happy about all my passes. A couple of other friends were working that check point and they cheered me when they saw me come in. I gave them a big stupid goofy grin and thought later how retarded I must have looked. No goggles, red eyes, goofy grin, with snot all over my face. Maybe that's why they were laughing.

That check was at mile 20, and the loop was only 28 miles in total. The last eight miles were actually pretty fun and helped to make up for the last 20 of whoop-hell. There were a couple of tough hill climbs and some fun canyon tight stuff. I rolled into the home check at last and to my surprise Paul said I was around 18 overall Amateur.

I didn't have a pit crew this race as mentioned before and I didn't do any venturing out pre-race to find one. I could have easily enough, but there needs to be a lesson learned each race. This time, get a pit crew.

I filled myself up with gas, ate an energy candy, drank some water, wiped off my face, and swapped my goggles out. I took the pair around my arm to someone else's pit and begged them to clean them up for me for the next loop.

Coming out of the pits was pretty cool - there was another Amateur and a Novice coming out at the same time and we battled it out. From the pit it reconnected to the course on the start - so it was wide and open and weaving in and around the sand knolls. Being refreshed and back to the anger stage from my first loop shenanigans I turned it on and showed those two exactly who they were dealing with.

I don't know who that is exactly, but I beat them to the course and left them both far behind. On the second loop I made more passes but did give up a spot or two when a couple guys that must have had more trouble than me came by with a vengeance. I passed a lot of people who were pulled over cleaning off their goggles - while the snow slowed me down first loop it made recompense here.

On the second loop the course was starting to get bad in terms of wear and tear. It was still snowing and still really cold but with all the bikes going over it again and again it was getting torn up pretty good. The lake beds could no longer be classified as "dry lake beds" but were now starting to resemble "mud bogs". Each pass on another racer added a couple more layers of mud to my person and there were a few bizarre instances when just going on the lake beds were getting me muddy.

I made good time and came into the home check looking good. Paul stopped me to explain my position, saying I was in 15th or so and that the one person this race whom I needed to beat was about 10 places ahead of me and it wasn't likely I'd catch him unless he had problems. Paul was about to say that the race leader was coming in right behind me and that I could go out and do another loop or just wait for him to come in and then just finish with two loops instead of three and essentially finish in the same place.

But he wasn't able to get that out because Carlo yelled, "He's gotta go now!" The race leader was about 100 yards back and coming in fast. I just took off and went and ditched my goggles and picked up my other ones and went back out for loop three.

I was the last person out on the course for the third loop. I have no idea how far away anybody was but I didn't see anyone for 20 miles. The lake beds were a big slop mess and I was getting covered in mud. When I got to the 20 mile mark, check four, I saw three bikes and couple four-wheelers. With eight miles to go I felt I could pass them all. But for some reason I decided to stop and chat at check four - turns out the four-wheelers and bikes were two-loopers that I would be lapping. No need to pass them then, I'd just take it easy, there wasn't any three-looper in range.

But I can't be reasoned with it seems, even by my own mind. I took off from there going as fast as I could. I quickly passed three four-wheelers and had the first of the three bikes in my sights. I got to one of the hill climbs just out of the cool canyon track and started up it. On the second loop when I had gone up this section I thought to myself, "This is going to be real bad when I come around again."

Self-fulfilling prophecy? I don't know, but this hill was bad. All the bikes going over it had dug it down and exposed a ton of rocks that hadn't been there before and it was essentially a running river of slop and mud. (At Right: If you've been to Knolls, here's the GPS of the course. If you haven't...here it is anyways.) This made the rocks hard to see and suddenly I found I hit one that pointed my front tire off to the side. I figured this was just as well because off the trail would be just as easy to go up as that slop fest was.

But I was wrong. I was going pretty good until suddenly there was a rock shelf I had to get over that I wasn't going fast enough for. I was 90% of the way up the hill and the bike and I went down. But it wasn't just a nice easy go down. The spot I was on was pretty treacherous and so when the bike and I went down we gained instant momentum and started tumbling down the hill.

The course prior to this was such that you could see this hill a ways off. Somehow right as I fell over I looked back and happened to see the last four-wheeler I had passed approaching. The bike fell about halfway back down the hill - I'd say at least 100 feet.

I fell all the way down the hill thanks to the mud, and I'm certain that four-wheeler saw it. When he passed me I was so stunned still and out of breath that I hadn't moved from where I had stopped. I was amazed I wasn't injured in some way after falling that far.

But that amazment and stunnination would quickly be surpassed as the four-wheeler just drove right by me like I wasn't there. I guess not everyone is the same. I saw a crash that was similar, but not as bad, at Wendover. Only that time it was a four-wheeler that went over. After getting to the top I made sure he was okay, and made sure he didn't need any help.

This guy just kept going. The second four-wheeler came by as I was making my way back up to the bike and he just sailed on by too. I was in disbelief.

If I had a hard time getting the bike upright the first crash on the first loop, then this time was impossible. After a few tries I resorted to just dragging it down to where the hill wasn't so steep and then picked it up. Not wanting to attempt the hill climb on the hill itself I coasted down to the bottom to where I could get a run at it...and then I couldn't get the bike started.

But after a good long while I finally got everything together and got back on the trail and had a pretty uneventful finish (I was only about a mile away from it). Between the two crashes, I'm sure I lost at least 30 minutes. Really disappointing as it is, but even moreso considering how sure I was that I was in first or second overall Amateur before the first crash.

I rolled into the home check to Paul and Carlo waiting, beers in hand, saying, "This bud's for you?" It was over, and I was the last three-loop racer to come in. Still estimated at 15th overall Amateur or somewhere thereabouts (I did get 15th o/a AM, and I'll get points for 14th as one of the guys that beat me was a day passer). There had been a pretty large turnout from my class though and so I finished third in class and got a trophy as a result. This made Ethan and Matthias very happy when I got home.

Being all caught up now, be sure to subscribe to the blog! I'll probably start tracking my p90x progress again, and posting random stories from now and again. Stay tuned!

USRA Round 8: Sugarloafers Cow Dung Run

2008-10-07T11:35:00.008-07:00

In recompense for the lack of pictures and video last report, I've got tons of pics and video for this one! Hope you enjoy! (At Left: A happy me at race's finish, with the trophy in the helmet, and very dirty. Yes, I'm sitting atop the "magic bike")

After the Wendover race I had installed a few new upgrades to the Blue Tank, including a new exhaust cam that would give me auto-decompression. Essentially the reason for this was to give a little boost to the power of the bike as well as make starting it easier as well. I put on a new exhaust system as well which was also intended to boost the power (plus it looks cooler haha). And finally I added a hot start lever so when I stalled it I could start it up again quicker as well.

I took all these upgrades, installed them, and headed out to Wendover with Paul on Labor Day to ride some of that course. Since he had worked that race he wanted to ride some of it so I showed him around what I could remember. The Blue Tank had worked amazingly well - there was a noticeable increase in power and the auto-decompression, while not as easy to start as I thought it would be, was very nice all the same and an improvement.

I was then excited for the Cow Dung because the bike was in tip top shape as well as my own fitness was improving all the time, I felt this would be the race where I could really show my stuff.

A week prior to Cow Dung I went to the Jordan River OHV recreation area to get some practice in for the race. A lot of people from MotoUtah.com were there and it was fun to ride there with them. After a good amount of riding I headed out on to the motocross track for a few more laps before I would leave - but I only got passed the first jump. While in the air the Blue Tank stalled and quit in a much worse sounding way than it ever had before. I nearly crashed on the landing due to this, but managed to pull off the track without a problem.

I tried starting it but to no avail - it just sounded like it wasn't getting any life in it at all. I pushed it back to the truck and loaded up, not sure what to think. I took the bike to a Yamaha dealer - South Valley Motorsports, only to be told they wouldn't be able to look at it for a few days, which pretty much meant it wouldn't be ready come race day. I left it there anyways angry and confused and not sure what to do, hoping they could look at it earlier.

There had been a noise in the engine earlier that day, and my guess was it had something to do with the new cam I had installed. After talking with Paul about it we decided to take it back from South Valley and fix it ourselves - they were going to charge a lot for the fix and I didn't want to pay too much.

Back at Paul's house we redid the cam install and made sure the timing on the engine chain was right. Putting it back together suddenly the auto-decompression was AMAZING. Even better than I thought it would be. But it still wouldn't start - I was afraid I had damaged something so badly that we were through.

But lo and behold Paul had the good idea of checking the spark plug - sure enough, no spark. No wonder it wouldn't start. I got a new plug, but the same thing - no spark. I replaced a couple of electrical parts in that area, but same thing, still no spark.

I had no bike to race Cow Dung with, which made me a sad panda. On a whim I made a post on MotoUtah.com and asked if anyone had a bike they wanted to let me race. (At Right: Paul on the start - he's on a green Kawasaki this race) To my great surprise I was offered to race Jeff Boyd's new YZ450 (really a 478cc). He was working the race so he didn't need it and I guess he likes showing it off (because well it's pretty much one of the most awesome amazing bikes I've ever ridden) so he offered to me.

So I was set and we decided to go down to the race and camp, since we had intended to camp at Wendover but were unable to do so. Ethan and Matthias were so excited to camp they couldn't fall asleep once we got there, even though we got there really late!

In the morning I got up and got signed up and everything, and looked for Jeff. He hadn't arrived yet, so I took Ethan to look at the Pee Wee race course, to see if he would have any interest in racing it. My dad had recently purchased a little Honda CRF50 for his grand kids to ride and Paul had brought it with him so Ethan could ride around. I wasn't sure he would want to, but after checking out the course and seeing that it was pretty mild, he wanted to race it. I had him out by our tent practicing for a good hour before the race so he would be used to riding in that type of terrain.

He was so cute. But instead of telling you about it - just watch it!

If you search for any of these videos in this post on YouTube , there should be a "watch in high quality" link that makes the picture much more clear.

Jeff came and found me and showed me the bike and I took it out behind camp to get a feel for it. All I can say is that Jeff is completely awesome and his bike is amazing. He has installed a lot of upgrades and mods to it that make it incredibly nice to ride and easy to handle. There's a saying that goes, "It's not the bike, it's the rider." However after this race I would challenge that wisdom! I couldn't stop talking about the bike so much that it came to get the nickname "the magic bike".

Once the Pee Wee race finished my race was about to start so I got geared up and ready to go. Paul was having troubles with his bike and ended up borrowing someone else's as well. So the Furious bros. headed off to the race on borrowed bikes - how would this affect our respective finishes?

I had taken a moment to walk the start earlier that day and found a line I liked a lot. However I made the mistake of not leaving the bike there to save a spot. Paul and I got to the line a bit late, and as such my spot was filled up with other racers. Paul went off to the far right but I decided to try and force my way in there instead. Funny how each race I learn something that doesn't necessarily transfer over to the next race. At Wendover I learned how important it was at the start to be in a spot that was a shorter or more straight shot to the course itself. So because of that I was stubborn and tried to crowd the spot I had picked out because it was a more straight shot to the course. This would prove to be a very poor decision.

Jeff's YZ starts first kick every time. It also has an automatic clutch - the reklus pro - so you can start it in gear. In essence I was guaranteed a perfect start, and I got it. However I would learn another lesson this race on starts - even with a perfect start, if you don't have a good line it won't help much. My thought was that I could crowd in that area, and beat everyone to my line even though I wasn't lined up right on it. Paul went to the far right of the start, which I had considered similar to my bad spot at Wendover. Funny how that works - he didn't even get a first kick start and still beat me to the banners.

When the banner dropped and the race started I got my perfect start, but I was pointed away from my line. I had to get around a sage brush and then try and get on the trail I wanted before anyone else. (At Left: I'm in the thick of it now...the dust starts to build) The sage brush slowed me down more than I thought it would, so I was beat to the trail. I'm also still somewhat skiddish at the starts and so wasn't aggressive and it wasn't long before four or five guys were in front of me and the dust started to build. Here's a video of my start line - notice that in the middle of it all is super dusty - I'm in the thick of that with pretty much zero visibility. At the bottom of the screen would be the right side of the start line - where Paul was. You can't see him in the video, but because he was there, even though he had further to travel than I did, he didn't have any dust, so was able to get to the front of the pack despite not starting on his first kick.

So another lesson learned - walk the start, find your spot, leave something there to save your place (your bike is the best bet), and then be real aggressive or it will all be for nothing and you'll end up eating dust.

Being at the front of pack early on can do wonders for your stamina - you're not having to fight poor visibility so you can pick your lines and save strength, you don't have to ride at the guy's pace who is in front of you (a very tiring exercise), and it separates you from other riders faster which allows you to go at your own pace.

The start is critical for sure.

So even though I had a perfect start, I got on to the course in the back half of the pack. Early on in the course there was a long bridge only four feet wide that we had to cross. This backed everyone up because you could only cross one at a time. On the plus side, it served to sort of spread everyone out a bit too which would help with the dust and visibility.

After crossing the bridge I pretty much held my position towards the back of the pack until some extremely technical riding down in a river bottom. This is where the "bike, not the rider" play on that old wisdom will come in. Had I been on the Blue Tank I am certain I would have stalled it many times, not to mention gotten considerably more tired since it's much heavier than Jeff's YZ. Thanks to Jeff's bike I went through these sections with ease, and in fact never stalled his bike once the whole race.

The tight and technical stuff really separates the skill levels. However it also makes passing much more difficult. I got into it at the end of a wagon train of riders all behind a slower rider, but there was no where to pass so we just had to wait for a chance.

I got really lucky here. And I mean extremely lucky. While going through this tight singletrack trail we came to a spot where it was uncertain where the course actually went. (At Right: More dust, though with picture editing I made it look like I'm closer to the front!) The Expert Wave had knocked down many of the markers and there were two ways to go that looked equally worn. When we got to this point I noticed someone coming back the opposite direction we were all headed, shaking his head as if to say, "This way ain't it." As he rode past me going back on the trail looking for the right way I happened to turn my head and see an opening in the trees and course markers across a little grass meadow. I quickly punched through and gunned it that direction with all I had and probably made around thirty passes there - I was now at the front of the pack and best yet, there wasn't any more dust or wagon trains!

From here it was simply a matter of keeping energy up and riding hard. The course had a great variety of terrain. There were seven or so river crossings which served as a great method of attrition, and also ensured that I got plenty muddy - something Sarah would be happy about. Not sure why, but for some reason she gets great satisfaction if I come into the pits or in from a race with a lot of mud on me and the bike.

There were a few high speed sections where you could really open it up and then of course some whoops and a few hill climbs and fun two track sections. The Sugarloafers really put together a great course.

As I was getting close to completing the first loop (the race was more of a hare scramble, a 20 mile loop that we did three times) I saw a familiar person stalled: Carlo. The joy's I get from passing him simply cannot be described! However I wouldn't get to live this joy long - I pass him and then five feet later got myself in a bit of a jam between two trees. So he got by me again but I knew he was close so I would push a little harder to pass him later on.

The last stretch of the loop included a few miles of whoops. While I'm much better at these than I used to be, I still struggle with them. While fighting a set going up a hill and losing strength and stamina a guy passed me up with a vengeance. I didn't know it at the time, but I found out later it was Paul! He had been lost back at the part where I had gotten lucky and he was one of the many I had passed there. Carlo should have been one too, but when he got lost he didn't turn around and go back to find the right way - instead he just kept going till he came to the course at another point, and ended up missing the first check point and getting docked a lap.

The very end of the loop had an interesting skill test - something you would see in an endurocross track. Luckily enough someone posted a video of it on Youtube:

Jeff's bike had a sweet suspension set up, and with the rekluse pro that section was a breeze. Add the rekluse pro to the setup of my Husqvarna please.

When I got in to the pits I was greeted with surprise. It's actually a great feeling to me - they don't expect me in that soon but there I am! Carlo was still there when I rolled in, so I knew I was really close to him. I gassed up (this is the only instance in which the Blue Tank had an advantage over Jeff's bike - the bigger gas tank...but hardly enough to warrant it in this race over the YZ) and headed out determined to get Carlo - after all, it was only matter of time before he crashed right?

At the pits they had told me that Paul was just in front of Carlo, which surprised me - either I was doing really good or he was doing really bad...keeping in mind I still wasn't aware that I had passed him when he was lost and that he had only just barely passed me back.

It wasn't long before Carlo was fixed in my sights. I followed him for a good few miles getting closer and closer. When we got to the spot where people had been getting lost a course worker had tied off the wrong way so nobody got lost anymore. Another example of the Sugarloafers really putting their work into the race.

About a third of the way into the loop I got right behind Carlo. Now just to find a good place to pass or for him to crash. (At Left: That's me...no the other guy, the one you can barely see in blue in all the dust) It wouldn't be either this time though - we got to a hill climb that was getting pretty rutted out and he took an alternate route, only to stall his bike at the hill top. I went by him with a big smile on my face, because right after this a high speed section was coming up which was advantage: me. I never saw Carlo again the rest of the race.

Not far after this though I saw another familiar face. I had gotten stuck behind a slower rider again and was waiting for a chance to pass when I got to another hill climb and saw a Novice and an Amateur fighting to get up the hill. The Amateur was stuck in a super deep rut and looked really mad. He looked familiarly mad - like a madman, or maddeh. Wait that was Paul! He looked at me and just shook his head in anger. I felt compelled to stop and help him - for some reason it didn't feel right for me to be in front of him.

But then I remember it was a race and that I wanted nothing more than to beat him! When we had ridden together out at Wendover on Labor Day I had noticed that with him behind me I was much faster than I normally was. Perhaps to impress him, or just stay in front, I don't know, but it definitely has an effect. It's like a light switch, and as soon as I passed him it was turned on and I kicked it into gear. The guy I had been following was suddenly not an issue as I blasted past him. I caught a few more guys and passed them as well.

Back to the end of the loop with the whoops they were tiring me again, and I happened to look behind me on a corner and saw Paul. He had caught up and was flying. I tried to stay in front as long as I could - when we got to the whoops though he made his pass as I couldn't keep with him there. But instead of going back to my normal speed I was able to keep it up, and tried much harder to stay with him.

By the time we got to the Rock Garden at the end of the loop I had caught him and we hit the pits at the same time. One more loop to go, and we starting it at the same time. Well, almost. We had the same person gassing us up, and he gassed Paul first, then me. So Paul had a bit of a head start. But I was determined to catch him this time.

I caught him on a high speed section - the YZ really benefited me through the technical stuff and I was able to make a lot of ground on him there. When we got to the high speed stuff - both of our forte's, I became extremely aggressive in an attempt to take him down there. Meaning, pass him. What happened though wasn't what I would have wanted.

I noticed that this road had become really chopped up - lots of silt and deep ruts and the YZ was getting out of control. I could see Paul fairly clearly up ahead and it looked like he was having the same issues, but without any warning he suddenly went down in a huge cloud of dust.

I slammed on the brakes to avoid running over him, and had to lay the bike out in order to prevent that. I asked if he was okay and he was super mad but said he was fine. I took off and never saw him again. With him behind me, I pushed the rest of the race like I had not pushed before.

I sort of expected him to catch me in the same place that he had previously, but I was going much faster this time. When I got passed the whoops I looked behind me and couldn't see anyone, and knew I had done it - I had beaten both Carlo and Paul - and I would have been happy to just have beaten Carlo!

The funny part about this is what I had said to Paul out at Wendover on Labor Day. I had told him that he was definitely faster than me, but that I could beat him. (At Right: Me and my trophy - I put this picture up for your pleasure to make fun of me. This is how much I love my wife.) I would have to race a perfect race - no wrecks, no stalls, smooth and steady at my best speeds. He would have to have problems - stalls, wrecks, etc. I guess I'm a bit of a prophet? It happened the very next race after I said that to him.

As excited as I am about it, it still feels kinda wrong for me to be in front of him and beat him. He's most assuredly the fastest of the Furious bros., but I'll take my brief moment of glory and live it up while I can!

I ended up finishing 2nd in our class, so I got a trophy! Ethan inspired me - they give all the Pee Wee's trohpies, but he was so excited about it he carried it everywhere, so when I rolled back into camp with a trophy he knew he had been the one to get me there. I ended up getting ninth overall Amateur - my first top ten! I got points for eigth since one of the guys that beat me was a day pass rider. I ended up being 31st overall, which feels pretty cool for sure.

Next race is knolls, and we had to take the Blue Tank into a mechanic's shop after all. Turns out the problem is the stator (electrical generator). It's broken and so can't provide the electricity to the spark plug needed to make a spark to fire the engine up. The race is on Saturday - they say it will be done in time. However that's cutting it pretty close, so I'm nervous. Jeff will be racing this one, so borrowing his bike again won't be an option, and though Paul is working this one again he needs his bike (which btw, blew up, and he had to buy another just like and swap some parts in order to even have a bike...but that's another story) so I can't borrow his if the Blue Tank isn't fixed. Hopefully the Blue Tank will be ready to roll, cause I'm feeling energized, and am ready to take first overall Amateur.

For your viewing pleasure, here are the start videos from Cow Dung of the Novices and Experts, respectively (ps, I did the video editing of all the videos here, except for the Rock Garden one, so you should tell me how aweseome I am, of which there is no charge):

USRA Round 7: Wendover 100 AMA National H&H

2008-09-07T16:06:00.009-07:00

(To start, I must apologize for the lack of pictures for this race. Click here for a great photo gallery of the Pro's at the race and here for a video of them. Props to Promoto.tv)

So far things really hadn't gone according to schedule. The Wendover 100 took place August 16, originally scheduled to be a race in Bryce put on by the Desert Foxes. Originally scheduled for March, a late winter pushed it back.

Paul and Carlo are both members of the Foxes, so this would be their first race that they would be working instead of racing. I looked forward to coming through the area where they were working and making them jealous of my mad skills.

I had high expectations for the Wendover 100. This was the race last season that gave Paul his first overall division win (Novice). He attributed the win to the style of the race which included a much heavier dose of high speed jeep roads like we are used to and less whoops and technical stuff. It also probably helped that it was held in November last year and pretty frickin' cold so a lot of people didn't come. Opposite of that weather pattern this year, mid August, the race would be hot. Hopefully it would deter more than a few competitors making a better finish more plausible for me.

A common theme and story for this year I went into race day under-prepared. I had talked my dad into racing this one with me and so brought the load of two bikes to prep for race day. Paul helped a great deal with his bike with some of the more major problems, but the basic prep I took on. I put his above mine and so he was all set to go and I had to elect to not replace my tires for the race. I simply ran out of time and so wasn't able to do a complete and thorough pre-race check on the bike. Like at Sage Riders I promised the Blue Tank a full go through if it would make through this race. Since I failed on my promise last time, I think the bike decided to not be so forgiving.

As all the racers were heading to the line I was filling up with oil and gas. I quickly put on my gear and headed down there and getting stuck in the worst spot on the line due to not having time to get a better spot. The Foxes seem to want to break a lot of "status quo" in desert racing - most marked by the increase in long fast stretches of course on jeep roads, but also in starting the race on time. I got to the start right as the riders meeting was ending and then it was only a minute or two it seemed before the banner dropped and the Experts were off. I was up and having not had a chance to walk the start line was hoping for a stroke of dumb luck. Even though I hadn't had enough time to work on the bike, a few weeks prior we had fixed the starting issues that had become a problem, so I was confident and hopeful.

There's a little trick to starting the Blue Tank so in order to have a perfect start at a race you have to prep it. I prepped it but messed it up a little bit. In any other situation I would just re-prep, but for fear of being in the middle of the prep when the banner dropped I just held it where it was and hoped I'd get a first kick start anyways. This logic would prove to be backwards. If it started anyways, that's great, but what were the odds? Pretty bad I'd guess...so I should have just re-prepped and took the chance, because that would have given me a higher chance of a perfect start. Live and learn, AGAIN.

The banner dropped and I kicked but there was nothing, so I quickly re-prepped and fired it right up but had lost a lot of ground on everyone else. To make matters worse as I got going down the bomb run I could tell that the spot I was in was much worse than I had originally suspected - I had to cover a lot more ground than anyone to the right of me.

Here's a video of the start from someone that was there. I first show up at about 1:19 as we're waiting on the start line. Then for the start it zooms out and I'm on the far right. The guy they're watching starts right up and takes off (you can see me kicking furiously for just a second) so I fall out of the frame for a while, but at 1:40 I come back in with a vengeance! I don't know if it will embed in high quality or not, so if you can't see too well click here and then click on the "watch in high quality" link just under the video.

Paul had told me that for the first few miles I could ride off the road and make passes pretty easily, so as you can see in the video I stayed off the main line and attempted to get around as many as I could. The dust was pretty bad as you can also see so anything to keep me out of it was worth it.

But it didn't seem like it lasted more than a mile or two before there started to be huge rocks outside of the course which made riding out there pretty hazardous. A couple times I nearly wrecked so I decided to jump on the course and just try and get through the dust. Yet the course itself was pretty perilous too - these were some rocky jeep roads! Luckily the suspension on the Blue Tank is about as good as you could ever hope for so I was able to absorb a lot of what I couldn't see without it spooking me and slowing me down.

I was about three or four miles in when I hit a big rock that popped me and the bike up in the air pretty good, and then I heard a sound that nearly made my heart stop: a loud WHIIRRRRRRRRRRR!!! Like something spinning super fast that isn't supposed to. The bike instantly stalled and then I noticed I had no gears - I kicked up and down on the shifter but it made no difference, I just coasted to a stop.

My first thought was that I had somehow destroyed the transmission. I was mad that I would probably have to DNF the race, sad that I wouldn't get to see the course, and worried that Paul would be really mad too (the bike is after all, still his). I stopped it off the course so I wouldn't get hit, waited for the dust to settle a bit so I could see where I was, then got off and took a look at the bike. To my pleasant surprise the problem was easily visible: the chain had fallen off. It wasn't broken either, which meant I could just put it back on real quick and keep going.

I did so but noticed after it was on that it was crazy loose and that it would probably fall off again. I decided to test it by getting back on the course, but riding easier. I figured it would be worth it if it lasted 20 miles or so before falling off again and I could just keep putting it back on. I wouldn't finish great, but I would finish, and after not finishing at Firebirds I knew that any finish would be worth it.

Unfortunately it fell off again within a mile or two. I decided at this point it wouldn't be worth it to try and continue, so I put it back on and headed back to the pits. Oddly enough at pretty much all the other races I had packed tools that could have fixed this issue. But at every other race I had felt the weight of those tools and never used them. So this race I decided to go light and not bother with the tools. Murphy's Law strikes again!

On the way back I just paralleled the course. As the Novices came by I suddenly thought that my dad would be coming by soon (he raced the Sportsman class, which goes with the Novice division) and that he would probably have the tools I needed. I watched for him and as he came by I waved at him hoping he would stop. He didn't recognize me - he just waved back and kept on going.

I kept it in first gear and just putted back to the pits, and the chain fell off two more times. As I got closer to the pits I noticed they were already starting to pull the course markers down, and now I was worried that they wouldn't let me go back out and that I really would get a DNF.

A lot of the race workers saw me, but none came to ask me what I was doing. I chalk this up to the fact that since I hang out with Paul and Carlo a lot and ride with them a lot and they are both Foxes so by association I hang out with the Foxes a lot that anyone that saw me just assumed I was working the race too.

But there was one Fox out there that knew I was racing and he saw me and caught up to me as I got back to the pits. (At Left: Shane got this pic of me working for some passes shortly after the start. Notice I'm off the course avoiding that guy's dust! This was before the first chain falling off) He has taken a few of the pictures I have posted on here from time to time and is a cool guy that is very helpful. He stopped to help me get my chain on right and tighter - thanks Shane!

Since he was working I asked him if I could go back out since I saw someone pulling course and he said sure, and that I should and just have a good ride and a good time. That made me feel better, so I set off. Paul or Carlo or someone apparently got a call from the race chairman who saw me go back out, "What's up with your brother? He's DEAD LAST."

As always being that far back has it's benefits. I rode the first 20 miles with no dust and no one to battle with. As a result I ended up riding pretty fast and was having a blast. The course was great and I was loving it. The first person I caught up to was my dad, so I rode by him for a while just to keep him a little company. He didn't recognize me at first and when he did he was very startled. I thought about stopping him and chatting for a bit but he seemed like he was having a good time so I passed by and went on my way.

Not far from him I caught up to some other riders and witnessed a pretty spectacular crash. There was a really steep uphill that had been totally trashed and had hardly any traction. As I got to it a four wheeler was going up and just about to the top when his front end got off the ground and he went over backwards.

He was able to jump off and so wasn't hurt, and his four wheeler tumbled down a bit but settled on its wheels and rolled most of the way down. It looked pretty crazy for sure as it got a little airborne right when he went over.

I stopped quickly to ask him if he was okay and needed any help but he said he was fine and waved me on. At this point I started catching riders pretty regularly, all of them either Novices or four wheelers. The four wheelers had started about 10 minutes after the Novices, but there weren't very many of them in total. Shortly after passing a few more (and wow they kick up a lot of dust) riders the course split and the four wheelers went a different way.

I got to the first checkpoint and immediately after that hit the best part of the whole course. It was a wash that just had the perfect consistency of sand depth and it was plenty curvy but not so much that you couldn't just blast through it. I must have passed more than 10 riders here. It was simply the best part of the course and I wish it would have lasted 30 miles!

Sadly it was over so very quickly and the course took a turn up into the hills and into some technical single track. This portion was actually pretty good to, but it was riddled with deep ruts. I was able to get through fine and have a good time, but when my dad got to this area he had trouble with them and ended up crashing bad enough that he had to stop the race and go back to the pits. He hurt his left shoulder pretty good and I feel pretty bad about putting him up to the race.

Paul was working check point #3 which was located at mile 57 or so. There was an alternate pit stop at mile 50 and when I got there my pit crew was relieved. They had expected me an hour or so previous and were worried something happened. While filling up and getting a drink I let them know I was fine and just had mechanical problems. I took off feeling fresh from the break and was excited to come through Paul and Carlo's check point.

On the way I passed a couple more guys, and I noticed that there was an Amateur or two, so I had finally started catching up to my division. There were still plenty of Novices ahead, but the tail end of my group had been reached which felt good.

The trail from the alt pit to Paul's check was great. Lots of washes and some tight stuff with a good mix of fast track. I rounded a corner and saw the check and tried to pop a little wheelie but didn't have good enough balance to get it all that high. Paul just looked exasperated at me and threw his arms like as if to say, "WHAT THE H*** MAN???!" haha. Well that's what it looked like anyways.

I tried to tell him I lost the chain early on but he couldn't really hear me. I had been marked off so I took off right away instead of staying to chat. Having passed that Amateur previously gave me a lot of energy and hope that I could still have a decent finish.

The War of Attrition started about this time. I began catching up to several riders and making passes and the look of all of them was the same - they were exhausted. I was feeling great actually and was very happy about that. P90x is working well!

I passed a few more Amateurs and was getting excited. There was a bit of dust up ahead which made me think I was coming up on several riders. After Paul's check point the course went out and turned back and would come through the alt pit again. It was a great section of course, easily the second best of the whole thing. Nice wide washes and plenty of fast track.

As the course turned over toward the alt pit it got on a jeep road and I let loose. I quickly caught up to about five or six guys on that road and started passing them. One of them wasn't too happy about that and gave me some battle on that road. It was fun inching ahead of him, then him edging in front of me and back and forth. We got close to a couple other guys and I backed off a bit so as not to create a dangerous situation.

But as luck would have it all of the guys I rode with on that road stopped at the alt pit. Since I didn't need to, I blew right past them and was able to put a ton of distance on them because the fast track just kept going and there was nobody to battle with this time so I was wide open. Had I known what had happened there only a few hours earlier I probably would have been a little more conservative. Josh Morros, one of the professional riders, and Tracon Kirk, one of the fastest Experts in our series, both had really bad crashes on this section due to sections of the road that had washed out. Josh suffered major head trauma and was in a coma for a while. He's doing better now and is in physical therapy. Tracon broke his femur, but I haven't heard about him since then. It's too bad as they're both amazing riders.

The course turned back toward the main pit and I saw a mile marker for mile 80 or so. The first loop totaled 93 miles, and the second loop was around 40. I was cruising along at as fast as I dared to go through a pretty technical wash. All of the sudden out of nowhere an Expert rider went flying by me like I was standing still. I didn't hear him coming at all. One second I was all alone and the next he was flying by me. He left me behind so fast I didn't even have to eat his dust for any length of time. I've never seen speed like that. I didn't even get his number it happened so fast.

I didn't realize it at the time but the second loop came back around and used the end of the first loop. I had thought for a while there that I must have passed the guy broken down or something, but realized later on that he was just coming in off the second loop, and likely was one of the leaders.

I estimate it was at about mile 91 that the fatigue set in. I had lasted all this time at full strength and energy and was so happy about it, but it wasn't to last. I was closing in on the main pit where I'd get a break and a chance to drink my P90x Recovery Drink, which I had planned to take there to give me the boost needed to complete the second loop at full strength.

The last mile of the loop was a stretch of nice big whoops. A cruelty to be sure. I didn't have the strength to ride them correctly so I simply rolled them and just held on till I got to the pit.

When I arrived to my pit location the crew that was going to pit me wasn't there. I was actually glad of this because I was so tired I couldn't bear the thought of hurrying through just to punish myself some more. I had to go to the bathroom real bad too.

I took my time and pitted myself, first downing my Recovery Drink, and then two bottles of water. My sister had come to watch the race and she turned up while I was there so I had her drain my camelback and fill it up with fresh cold water. I went to the bathroom and then came back and filled up. I was still completely spent, but I had been there long enough that it was time to go. A couple of the guys I had passed back on the way through the alt pit had passed me up back here - just goes to show how far ahead I was. I must have had been there five or six minutes before they passed me again (one of them was the guy who came in on that video above, John Williams).

I got back on and headed out on the second loop still tired but feeling better than when I had come in. The second loop started out pretty fun but it didn't take long before there was some difficult whoops that just drained me all the more. As the course turned up to some more technical washes I passed John Williams again. It was kind of funny because I was riding right behind him at his pace for a while because there was no where to pass, and I didn't have the energy to just go around him off the course and be aggressive. I figured he'd let me by sooner or later because he was looking pretty tired too.

I got kind of in a trance behind him though. I started looking at his back tire (big no no) and using it for my direction. He finally got to a spot where he could stop and let me by but I wasn't paying attention and just drove right into him. It woke me up out of the trance and I struggled a bit but got around him. The trail then turned up and into the hills on some fun and technical single track.

I was still dog tired though, and I got to a corner where it was on a side hill and I wasn't going fast enough and just lost my balance and went down. First crash of the day, around mile 105 or so. I was pretty happy about that actually - normally I have crashed much sooner. I was pretty tired, and I couldn't hear John behind me so I decided to rest a bit. One of my bolts from the hand guard came off as well so I spent some time putting it away so I could fix it later.

John showed up soon after and I let him go by me. He did stop to check on me since I was off my bike. I tried to set up my hand guard so it wouldn't flop all over the place and got ready to go again. When I got back on the bike I suddenly found that I was feeling really good and had a lot of energy. The Recovery Drink had finally kicked in!

I took off with renewed visions of passing up several more riders and really enjoyed the part of the course I was on. It was still single track and going up in the hills more. I crested the top of a ridge and noticed it was time to down - pretty much straight down. I figured it was a part of the trail I had heard about - Foxes Revenge.

I don't think I've ever seen such a steep down hill before. I basically rode both brakes down the hill and still felt out of control. I looked ahead and noticed John was about halfway down it. I quickly caught up to him and made sure he was okay - this downhill was really rough. We both got to the bottom okay and I went off ahead of him again, looking forward to the last leg of the course.

I didn't see anyone else the rest of the race. It went down a wash, onto a fast jeep road, up a wash, back in the hills a bit, back down a wash, around to the east of the pits, then looped back around for what I consider a cruel joke - it went back through whoopsville USA or whoop alley or cruel way to end the race-ville or whatever it was called.

Upon seeing the sign again and realizing where I was I was suddenly really angry about it and turned on the gas and went flying into the whoops with complete reckless abandon. I quickly discovered that I had just made the whoops much easier to tackle! I kept the gas on and really tore there feeling great and having a good time, but unfortunately the course wasn't a perfect straight shot so after a couple of turns through there I lost my speed and the whoops became very tiresome. I rolled through the last several hundred yards of them and then picked it back up for the final stretch.

Coming into the finish like that (full speed) is always nice, but somewhat depressing. The workers at this point are more concerned with how you are feeling and if you are delirious or in physical danger of some sort. There's nobody there waiting for you, and half the people on pit row have already packed up and headed out. But I still got my finishers pin and that's what I had set out to do after my chain problems.

All in all this was one of my more favorite courses and it was great. I liked it so much that two weeks later I went back out and rode 50 miles or so of it again with Paul, and frankly I'd like to go back out there and ride some more of it.

When I had thought of desert racing in the past, this race was more what I had in mind. The Foxes really know how to put on a race!

And with that, I'm finally caught up! I have a race this Saturday, so expect a new report up shortly!

USRA Round 6: Monticello Hare Scrambles at Bull Hollow

2008-09-02T20:10:00.007-07:00

Originally intended to be my third race for the season, the AMA National Hare Scrambles West at Bull Hollow in Monticello, Utah ended up being my fifth. Paul said I would get hooked...he was right! (At Right: Carlo with some hang time)

The race took place on June 15, 2008. If you don't have a calendar then I'll point out that it was on a Sunday. I wasn't too happy about this for what should be obvious reasons, but added to that is the fact that it was a good five hour drive away. So after the race I would have to hurry home in order to get a decent bed time and then go to work the next day. Not very appealing to say the least.

I had never been to Monticello before though, so I was glad to go there. It's a pretty neat place - a little higher in elevation and really green for Utah (as in the color...you know, from trees and the like). Bull Hollow Raceway is a motocross track just south of town (and town it is...it's a very small place) and it's a lot of fun. An old school track that follows the terrain and uses it in various creative ways. Though Mesquite was called a Grand Prix, this was a similar style of race - motocross track plus a desert loop. The loop this race was around 15 miles long and the race time would be two and a half hours.

There was a practice session on the track on Saturday night, so we got there early enough to get some warm up time on the track in. Practice was great, the track is definitely one of the most fun I've ever ridden. Most of the jumps I was able to clear just fine save one or two pretty large ones that were just too intimidating.

Come race day I was feeling good. Because of the style of the race the divisions raced separately. It was cool to watch the Experts as the way the course was set up allowed you to watch various parts of the race and see how they handled the terrain. There were some incredibly fast Expert riders out there and it was great watching them.

When the Amateurs were up Paul and I lined up next to each other on the start line. Since it was just Amateurs they lined us up by our classes. My class was combined with the 250 class, and then there were about four other lines behind ours.

Ever since Firebirds the Blue Tank had been having problems starting and I was a little worried about the start. We only had about 50 yards before the first turn on to the track so getting a good position before that was critical.

Instead of dropping a flag they used a sort of stop light thing. As all was quiet and we were waiting for the green light I made a fool of myself by trying to crack a joke, "What if you're color blind?" Nobody laughed. Yeah.

When the light changed I kicked with a vengeance and to my surprise the Blue Tank fired right up. I opened the clutch and gunned it right away but ended up being too fast with the clutch and stalled it. As everyone on my line took off I kicked away while the next line got ready to go. So much for a good starting position. (At Right: There I am, having just stalled. Paul got a good start though; he's just to the left of me.)

Just like Firebirds I finally had to stop kicking and just sit there to let it cool off. After a minute I kicked again and it came to life and I took off, practically starting with the second line instead of my line.

Again like Firebirds the nice thing was going for the first little while dust free. However it didn't take long to catch up the tail end of the guys I was lined up with. And yet again the dust was like a wall and breathing it was the most dangerous part. It was impossible to see through, so making passes on the people I had caught was dangerous and difficult as well. However there must be a trick to it because when the second line caught up to where I was the fast guys got by us without a problem.

I had some troubles on the first loop. First was the dust problem, then the mass of bikes (a lot of the trail was tighter and more technical which made navigating with a lot of other bike a problem too), then I had a couple crashes and a few blown corners. All of this took a lot of energy which slowed me down as well. When I came back to the track after the first loop I felt like I was in near to last place.

However the second loop went much better. The riders had thinned out on the course which made the dust more manageable and since I wasn't fighting as many guys I spent less energy so I wasn't tired. Going over the same terrain also helped because I knew what was coming and was ready for it. I gained several spots as a result of this and was feeling good.

I decided to stop at the pits after the second loop to switch out my goggles and get a drink. The course was demanding enough that there wasn't any opportunity to drink while on the course. Upon putting on a fresh pair of goggles it was like seeing the world anew - the layer of dust on my first set was thick!

I did even better on the third loop. I think I probably had my best lap on this one, passing several more riders and feeling like I had moved up to the middle-front of the pack. The War of Attrition had begun here too - I could see many of the other riders were very tired and slowing down because of it. I was doing great energy-wise, and riding at 100%.

I came in to the pits after this loop without the intention of stopping, but when I rounded the corner I saw two familiar bikes at our pit stop. (At Right: I'm sure this picture looks familiar. I need to update the picture of the week I guess.) Carlo for sure was one of them, and I thought the other might be Paul. I couldn't resist pulling up to taunt them somewhat. As I pulled up the other bike wasn't Paul, just someone with a bike just like his. But I stopped next to Carlo and revved up so he'd hear me then took off. He didn't know I had been behind him, because he had passed me on the first loop after I had blown a corner so bad I was behind some trees and you couldn't see me from the course.

This loop would prove to be the most fun of the race. Knowing Carlo was behind me and that he wouldn't be happy about that made me push pretty hard and I was riding good and fast. As I rolled up to the first check point I quickly looked behind me to see how close he was and he was right there. After getting marked I popped the clutch to spit some roost at him but instead just stalled the bike again. As he passed me I could hear him laughing.

I started it pretty quick again and got behind him, and was able to pace him just right to avoid his dust. Then the weirdest thing happened - I started passing a lot of other riders, all of whom were just pulled off the course and standing there. It was as if Carlo was a wrecking ball and clearing the path ahead! I figured I'd stay here until near the end and make a quick pass on him and if he kept it up till then we'd finish 1st and 2nd!

However with Carlo you can always bet that he'll crash. It wasn't long before he did so I got around him again. He tried pretty hard to catch up but I was able to keep the distance on him. As we got back to the track though I was feeling the burn and the energy crisis would soon become a problem again.

Getting to the track there was a white flag - one more lap. I had to get gas this lap because I wasn't sure if I could make the last 14 miles and didn't want to DNF for that. I was far enough ahead of Carlo I thought I could gas and go before he caught me but it took longer than expected and he passed me in the pits. I didn't see him on the course again.

When I took off for the last lap I at first attempted to catch him. It only took a mile before I was completely spent. I felt more tired here than I had at Sage Riders and I pretty much went into survival mode, just trying to finish. I got passed by a few guys as a result, but was able to make it back, feeling like I had placed well.

I did too - best finish yet. I got points for 20th, which was really great. And I had lasted at full energy much longer than normal - and this was a really tough and challenging course. A fun one for sure - probably my 2nd or 3rd favorite up to that point actually. It had a bit of everything on it and was just laid out really well.

I learned a lot this race though - having a pit strategy for one. Before this race I had never really thought about it and only figured on just riding well and having enough energy. (At Right: Paul hanging it out for the camera.) But my choices in stopping at the pits this race proved to slow me down, and smarter planning could have improved my placing a few spots I think. I learned a lot about over-doing it too. I spent more energy the first loop than needed, again because I was angry at not getting a good start. Had I just played it cool I probably wouldn't have crashed and blew those corners, which both slowed me down and spent precious energy.

But all in all I was happy with my finish and happy with the course and the race in general. It was one of the more fun races, and battling with Carlo was great too. Paul had a good finish - getting points for 2nd place. Carlo was around 15th or so. I definitely want to make this one next year! And with this, I'm nearly caught up! One more race report to go and I'm on the mark. The next race is on Sept 13, so hopefully I can post the last race report before then so I'm completely caught up.

USRA Round 5: Cherry Creek National H&H

2008-08-22T09:06:00.006-07:00

When I was but a lad of five years old I remember my aunt coming to baby sit me while my family went out to race motorcycles. I guess my older brothers Mike and Matt had been bugging my dad to race and he finally let in and so they went off to race the legendary race called Cherry Creek, which was a National race that all the big shots came to.

My dad, mom, and three brothers all raced in it. I'm not sure how everyone did but I know my dad hurt himself real good and I think Paul got lost, don't know for sure though.

Last year after my first race attempt, teamed with Paul, I was going to race by myself at the Cherry Creek race for that year. Paul couldn't make it for some reason and said I could use the Blue Tank. I was all ready to go when at the last minute family commitments kept me from going.

So with that when it came around this year I really wanted to make this race. Paul wouldn't make it as he would be in Arizona racing, so this would be a chance for me to gain on him in points (not that it would help much - he was more than triple my points).

I was ready to go but a few weeks prior to the race my wife got an invite to do a horse show in which she would pretty much have all expenses paid. This would likely be her last chance to do something like that for several years as we have been thinking about growing our family a little more, so I, being the amazing good husband that I am, and a perfectly charming man to whit, decided to miss Cherry Creek yet one more time so my wife could compete in her horse show.

She did really well, sadly the judge at the event didn't know much about her style of riding and so she didn't get the 1st place finish she deserved, but she had a good time and still did well.

So no race report for this one - but I do have a video. There's a really cool group of guys that follow the National Hare and Hounds around and film them. They're called Promoto.tv. They missed the Sage Riders National, but they were there for Cherry Creek. Click Here to see the video of the pro's on the Cherry Creek course.

Browse through their videos, they're all top notch. When I say cool group of guys I mean it - I emailed them once about how I liked their videos and suggested a song for them to use in one. Thinking they probably wouldn't use it because they likely had a whole list of songs already in waiting to use, I offered it in hopes that maybe next year or something I'd hear the song in one of their videos. To my surprised their next video after I emailed them had it in it. So check them out and support them if you can - cause they're awesome!

Almost caught up! Only two more race reports and we're on schedule!

USRA Round 4: Firebirds Hare Scrambles

2008-08-10T15:45:00.005-07:00

I learned a valuable valuable lesson this race. A couple actually. Never go between races without a ride, (At Right: The first two experts...in a league of their own) and never do major upgrades or mechanical work right before a race either...specifically suspension upgrades.

A bit of a debacle occurred after Rhino Rally - I sent the Blue Tank to a shop in St. George Utah to get the suspension done, which included the installation of a new rear shock spring. We picked up the bike a few weeks later on a family trip to Mesquite and discovered the rear shock spring had not been installed. Sage Riders was coming up soon and so we had the spring sent to us (and when I say "we" or "us" I'm referring to my brother Paul and myself), but it came with about a week before the race. It's interesting to me how I was able to be smart about this once, but then stupid about it later.

I opted not to install it before Sage Riders - I didn't want to have a new setup and no time to tune it before a race. So I waited until after Sage Riders. I started taking the bike apart shortly after that race and working on the new spring. If you don't know me very well, let me let you in on a bit of my personality. I am not mechanically minded, nor very apt for that kind of thing either. However as part of this racing gig I decided to become such, and it's been a treat to be sure...a pretty sour one, but a treat nonetheless.

There was three weeks between Sage Riders and Firebirds so I figured I had plenty of time to do the job. The riding between races had become a bit of a trial for my family as well, so it worked out well in that I wouldn't be riding between these races due to the upgrade. The plan was for me to replace the shock spring, and then Paul who had recently had some education on tuning suspension would take it out one weekend and "dial it in" so it was a better ride.

However the plan didn't quite work out - it took me a lot longer to swap out the springs than intended, and Paul was never able to take it out and tune it.

Come race day, Paul went out a day early to camp and was going to tune it then. While doing so he discovered that I had done something incorrect and so took the bike apart again. (At Left: Paul not far off the start) Upon closer inspection he also discovered that I hadn't tightened the bolts up that keep the suspension in place either. There were other problems including a leak in the oil on the shock mechanism. While I was driving down the to the race I got a call from him on his way to the nearby town of Delta, Utah where there was a pro shop that could look at the suspension and hopefully fix what he had found wrong with it.

The shop there ended up rebuilding it as it was in bad shape. Back at the pits I had arrived and saw the Blue Tank there torn apart waiting for Paul to get back. All I could do was wait.

Paul got back and we put it back together in a hurry and then "tuned" the suspension. Though Paul knew what he was doing we didn't have the proper time to actually test it, and make sure we were doing it right. This was exactly what I had wanted to avoid at Sage Riders.

While waiting for Paul to return with the suspension I had ample opportunity to walk the start line and area a great deal. (At Right: The Blue Tank under the knife for the rear suspension operation) I found a great line and was able to walk the entirety of it. This turned out to serve Paul pretty well but not me so much.

We were still a little late getting out to the start line (not that this would matter either) as we finished last minute stuff on the bikes, so the lineup I had picked was taken, but we were able to get a spot near there. I fully intended on another perfect start since I felt I had discovered the "trick" to it at Sage Riders, and I was excited to be racing my brother off the start since we hadn't started next to each other yet.

The year before at this race there had been some pretty major crashes that ended in some serious injuires. I think it was something like two broken femurs, among other things. They were running the exact same course as the prior year so they were taking precautions and having an extra ambulance come to the race. That second ambulance was late. Very very late. We sat on the start line for what seemed forever. So long that all the pre-race jitters usually associated with lining up had long faded.

After 30 minutes or an hour or so it finally arrived and the race could begin. (At Left: I couldn't start the bike, but I looked cool when I finally got going! Right?) When the experts took off I did a practice kick and the Blue Tank fired right up. It was all but guaranteed that I would get a perfect start again.

Our line came up and the banner was hoisted. The minute wait time seemed more like 10 minutes as my focus was solely on the banner and everything else in my vision disappeared. The banner dropped and I kicked and let out the clutch and gassed it all at the same time...just like at Sage Riders the race before. Only this time everyone around me took off and I wasn't moving. The shock of the bike not starting took a second to realize. I started kicking frantically to start it - and oh what a familiar feeling. It was just like at Rhino Rally when I stalled it and couldn't start it again. There were a couple other guys around me who hadn't started first kick either. Now it was more of a race to see who could start their bike first!

I lost that contest too. The next line was getting ready to go and the race workers were looking at me wondering if it had already ended for me. I took a break from trying and just sat there, feeling pretty angry. After a minute or so I kicked with a vengeance and it fired up and I let loose and took off.

This had a positive side - going through the start area with all those bikes was a giant wall of dust (see pictures posted throughout this post). Since it had taken me so long to start there wasn't much dust left over and I could see fine...until I caught up to everyone, which only took me a mile or so.

When I did I couldn't see anything. I've never seen dust that thick. Seeing through it was bad enough, breathing it was something else altogether. I was angry, in a hurry and fury, and I could hardly see...this was a bad combination. I made a lot of passes and worked to get ahead of the giant wall of dust as best I could. I went down a couple times when the dust would clear ahead of me for a brief moment and a tree stump or large rock would be waiting for me.

But my perseverance paid off and I finally passed what felt like the bulk of slower riders. (At Right: 3 words, WALL OF DUST) The course started turning up some hills and gaining elevation, and was looking familiar too - this was some of the same stuff I rode three weeks before at Sage Riders. I was doing really well until I caught up to another amateur rider who was much larger/wider than I was. I wish I would have remembered his number but I wasn't in a normal mental state at the time. He was much slower than me and less skilled, but one area he beat me in was taking up all the trail so I couldn't pass. Me and another rider much younger (and better) than me were both stuck behind him and this guy used all his mass to his advantage to keep us there.

The younger rider finally couldn't take it anymore and took off into the trees. I was amazed as I saw him go way out and very fast to pass this large amateur. I wasn't quite that daring, but stayed back waiting for my chance to take him.

I was looking ahead of him and saw a corner coming in the course, I also saw some tracks of riders who had taken the corner tight, probably in an effort to pass. This was my chance. The sign used to mark the corner for some reason made me think it was an immediate and hard 90 degree left, so I cut it even sharper than the other tracks had in order to not give this guy a chance to keep me back.

The corner went up a hill, but when I got up there I couldn't see the course anymore. For whatever reason I just assumed it went even harder left, to almost 180 degrees. As I cut cross country through the trees to find it again I got in a tight spot and actually got my handlebars stuck between two trees. I couldn't go forward, and now I had to use precious energy to try and turn around. To make matters even better the bike stalled again.

After much effort I finally got it loose and turned around back the way I came, got back and the course and went on my not-so-merry way. (At Left: Paul is not far off the leaders on the bomb run...thanks to my pep talk on the line moments earlier) I had lost all that ground I had made, and noticed I was now in the middle in the Novice pack. It was Rhino Rally all over again, though thankfully without the T-Bone crash...yet.

I didn't get T-Boned again thankfully, but instead I had much more terrifying experience. The trail continued up and up and up, and was on the ridge of a hill. I had gotten into a niche, was going fast, there was no one else around. I rounded a small corner and all of the sudden noticed my front tire was up in the air right in front of me. Somehow I had pulled up a huge wheelie and I was clearly out of control. This startling discovery gave my hand a reaction similar to when I had landed wrong on the jump at Mesquite - I simply gave it more gas, making the wheelie bigger and making me go faster, and losing more control.

I went through the first tree pretty easy - the small cedar scrubs aren't the thickest of trees. The second one jostled me pretty good and brought the bike to a much slower speed and the front tire back on the ground. The third one wasn't about to back down to me now, and I had the sensation of being impaled only luckily it wasn't for real - I was just hung up in the tree with a bunch of wood and leaves and the like in my mouth. The bike had flipped up and had caught my left wrist and pinned it to the trunk, and the position my body was in didn't really give me any ability or leverage to move it.

I can't imagine what I looked like to the first guy that came passed me. Had that been me I don't know if I would have been able to repress the desire to laugh as I'm sure it was a very comical looking scenario. However I guess he was a Novice racer who had a chance of doing good, because he didn't stop. The next guy did though - I think he was an Amateur but I'm not sure as I wasn't seeing too clearly at the time either.

He asked if I was okay, came over and moved the bike and then I sent him on. I just sat there, in pain, and bewildered. I couldn't figure out how it had happened. I couldn't remember what made the tire come up in the first place. I was also pretty shaken up - even though this wasn't as hard hitting as getting T-Boned was, I didn't have anyone else or anything else to blame in this wreck. I had completely gone out of control and had plowed through the trees and ate tree in the end.

My face was throbbing, my wrist was throbbing, I touched my face and looked at my fingers and saw a good deal of blood. My teeth were really sore. (At Right: This isn't so much a wall of dust as it is a total fog of war) I was shaking.

A few more people stopped and asked if I was okay and true to form I just waved them on and said I was fine. I didn't know what I was going to do or what to do. I thought about just sitting there and waiting for the sweepers, but I figured that would be a long time since the Experts would be doing the loop three times before the sweepers came on the course. I also didn't want Paul to come by on his second loop through and see me there and stop to see if I was okay, which would cause him to lose time.

I had an interesting thought while sitting there. Paul called it my conscious, and you can think what you will, but I shouldn't say it wasn't so much an interesting thought as it was an answer. I was asking myself why had this happened, how had this happened etc. The thought came into my mind as a voice that I had never heard before, and it was clear and concise, "You crashed so that you would have an opportunity to stop this race and walk away with minor injuries, instead of major ones."

If you know me well you'll know that I'm an active Mormon. Each race I pray for safety and so far I've walked away from every race, more or less safe (as in not in an ambulance or in a wheelchair). I felt that this crash was an answer to that race's prayer.

The underlying cause was soon discovered a few weeks later when Paul had a race in Arizona and had two really bad wrecks that seemed inexplicable. Turns out his suspension was all whacked up and as a result he couldn't control the bike in certain situations - just like I couldn't that day. A closer look at the Blue Tank's suspension after this race proved that indeed we hadn't adjusted it correctly at all, we had adjusted it to make it worse (funny too - when Paul had his two wrecks at that later race he said he listened to his "inner Nathan voice" that told him to call that race quits as well so he didn't get hurt worse).

After a good 20 minutes or so I finally decided to try and move myself out of there. I got up and tried starting the bike, which of course wouldn't. It took me a long time to make that happen, but it finally did (this would be the beginning of a problem that I only just recently fixed). Luckily for me the first checkpoint was just down the hill from where I crashed - the 10 mile mark. Getting to the check was excruciating - every bump my wrist felt was like a knife stabbing into it. I got to it after some effort and pulled off to the side. I guess I looked okay because the guys there marked my fender and then went back to the trail to mark off other riders.

It wasn't until I had been there a minute and was having obvious trouble standing there holding my bike that someone asked if I was okay. I asked for directions to go straight back to the pits and one of the guys offered to lead me there. It wasn't as bad getting back thanks to most of it being on graded roads but I struggled nonetheless. I was feeling light headed and weak.

I rolled into the pits and went straight to the ambulance to have everything looked over. (At Left: My DNF Trophy proudly on display as I watch others finish) As I entered the ambulance I happened to notice Paul coming in to Pit Row but he was doing really good so didn't notice my bike sitting there.

The medical staff on site there was really nice and helped out a great deal. Through a great deal of wincing they managed to clean up my face - I had a good long cut the top of my throat up to my chin. My gums were bleeding or something, and they checked out my wrist really closely and put a splint on it - my DNF trophy.

And that's really it - I walked back to the pits and sat down watching the rest of the racers come through. My first (and only if I can help it) DNF, Did Not Finish. I even got a trophy for it - a wrist splint.

When Paul finally finished he came in and saw me and just shook his head. He had a good race but met some stiff competition in a few places. He did manage to beat the leader of our class though which was a good thing for his points. Carlo wasn't far behind him which gave him a first place finish in his class. Getting loaded up and leaving the race was difficult with only one good hand, but we managed okay. (At Right: I'd be as happy as Carlo is here too if I had won my class that day like he did)

It was pretty disappointing in the end, but at the same time I'm glad I got the opportunity to see the consequences of my decisions so I can learn from them. And of course I'm thankful I didn't have a worse crash with more serious injuries.

USRA Round 3: Sage Riders AMA National H&H

2008-07-29T19:54:00.005-07:00

A year after Paul's first race I had been thoroughly hooked on racing and the Sage Riders had returned with their National Hare and Hound. (At Left: Josh Morros, 16 years old, and a Professional riding for Kawaski led the pack off the start and put on a show) I had originally decided not to enter this race, mostly due to what it had done to Paul the year before. But now that I had two races under my belt and was more confident (even though I hadn't done very well yet), I felt I was ready for it.

I had boosted my confidence significantly due to several rides between Rhino Rally and this race as well, which I think helped greatly.

This race didn't start so great for me though, in terms of pre-race preparation. The race was held at pretty much the same location as it had been the year before, which is only about two to three hours away from where I live. So unlike the first two races, I didn't stay in a hotel or anything the night before. Just got up early and headed out on race day. Thing is, I didn't get an early enough start - I showed up with just under an hour before the banner dropped.

I had to step lively over to the registration table (unlike the first two races I wasn't pre-registered) and got there just as they were closing up. I then had a little bit of last minute bike maintenance to do. Paul and Carlo were already geared up and headed over to the rider's meeting, and I was starting to wonder if I was going to make it.

I got my gear on, filled up with gas, did a super quick (and likely terrible job of) bolt and chain check. The chain was actually a little skewy, and I didn't feel all that confident in the condition of the bike. But I knew that time had run out on me - I quickly had a little heart to heart with the Blue Tank. In short I said, "Make it through this race and before the next one I'll do a real good maintenance check." With that I fired it up and headed to the start line.

I've since decided that this method of showing up late and rushing to the start line is a good idea. You'll see why in just a moment.

I got to the start line and couldn't find Paul, but was able to locate Carlo. I had no chance to check out the start area before going, so I had no idea what to expect. I lined up next to Carlo and right away everyone was shutting off their bikes and getting ready to go - Experts were up.

Here's a good angle on the start - While Rhino Rally had a ton of Novices, this race was dominated by the sheer number of Experts. (The music put to the video isn't my thing, and if it's not yours either, it's just as good to watch while muted):

The Experts took off and we were up. I found that I never really had the time to be nervous or get worked up. I was in such a rush to get to the start on time that I had to forget about worrying about it. Then the banner dropped. I don't know what got into me, but I somehow knew when they were about to drop it. I started to kick as it came down, and having learned from Rhino Rally, I was already in gear. What happened - well I had a textbook perfect start:

The guy who filmed that was there to film his buddy, who was on his left, because his buddy typically gets a perfect start. Unfortunately it didn't happen this time - he couldn't start his bike. I'm on the right side of the camera, and though it's only brief, I got a perfect start and you can see how I quickly took off in front of everyone nearby. As a bonus, there's a moment early on where you see a guy sprawled out on the ground having just crashed pretty badly. That's Carlo. His start didn't go so well.

The first loop went really well. I had lots of energy, I was confident, I was riding well. I had a couple little wrecks but I was able to quickly get going again. I had made it off the start and onto the course I'd say in about 20th or so out of the Amateur wave and I held that for a while, making some passes but getting passed by a few people as well.

I rolled into the pits feeling great - I don't know for sure but I think I had kept in the top 20 or so. Carlo hadn't caught up to me yet, which felt good, and neither had any Novices. The first loop was 35 miles and I had done it well. Coming to the pit stop everyone was surprised to see me, which was good too - more evidence I was doing well. They almost didn't know what to do or expect! Here was the guy who got dead last at Mesquite, was way behind at the Rhino Rally, suddenly doing good/decent.

Turns out I was only eight or so minutes behind Paul, which made me feel really good as well, and they had figured he was in about 9th place or so. I left the pits with a ferocity to try and catch some of those between Paul and me, and hoped that I could do well enough to maybe come in right behind him to surprise him at the finish.

Sadly, it wasn't to be. At about mile 60 or 65 (out of 80 or so) all energy left me. I felt as if I literally had nothing more to give. This was bad for several reasons, but the most immediate one was that this part of the course was very technical. That kind of riding requires more strength, endurance, and skill than any other. As a result, I crashed more. A lot more. The first couple of Novices passed me. Several other Amateurs passed me. I started losing all the gains I had made on the first loop.

I kept trying to psyche myself out and push myself, but then I would get so tired I would crash. I finally resigned myself to a slow pace and tried to conserve energy and make it all the way home. Such a bummer, I was doing so good.

This put me in a right fowl mood I must say. The exhilaration of the perfect start and doing so well on the first loop was all gone, and now just anger at being in poor shape. (At Right: Oh the hazards of the Bomb Run. Another benefit of getting a great start is you're ahead of this kind of thing and don't have to navigate through it) Carlo finally caught up to me. He's in his 40's, and has 10x the endurance I do - he zipped by with ease, not looking tired at all. Apparently he had had quite a few bad crashes that had slowed him down. Too bad - if he could go a race without crashing he could finish really good fairly easily, if on nothing but endurance alone (that is not to say he isn't skilled - he's a great rider).

I kept looking ahead on the course, just hoping it would be coming to an end. Finally it started turning back toward the pits and I was getting happy, knowing it would soon be over...but just before I got close enough to be really excited, the course turned south and went into the Little Sahara sand dunes. I really don't like sand dune riding, or super deep sand in general. It's tiring riding too, and if I had been spent before, I was all but gone now. So of all the moments to be heading into sand dunes, I'm pretty sure this was the worst timing ever.

Somehow I made it through though. I'm not sure, but I came to the end of the race and finished. Though I didn't do as good as I could have had I not run out of steam, I did improve more than 10 places (within Amateurs) from Rhino.

Paul and Carlo were impressed with my finish, but I was pretty upset about running out of energy. Once again the energy crisis prevented me from a finish I'm capable of. The next race was only a few weeks away and the bike needed some work - it kept it's part of the deal so now it was my turn to fix it up some. Too bad that ended up biting me in the back! More on that next post.

USRA Round 2: Wizard's Rhino Rally!

2008-07-22T20:22:00.007-07:00

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!

New Header

2008-06-24T19:05:00.001-07:00

Big thanks to my friend Cedric who made this awesome new header for my blog! Be sure to check him out at his website: http://www.cellseven.com/

Thanks man!

USRA Round 1: Buzzards Mesquite GP

2008-06-17T10:34:00.015-07:00

Finished: Yes
Class Finish: 8 of 8
Overall Finish: 55 of 55
USRA 2008 Season Points Earned: 535
USRA 2008 Season Points Total: 535
Season Points Position: 8 of 19

I'm thinking I might use this little header for each race report. I'll try it out and see if I like it anyways. So as a little explanation with it - Finished: Yes or No (in case I get the dreaded DNF! Being my first season, finishing every race is the #1 goal). (At right: Paul with the big air for the spectators) Class Finish: My place out of the number of racers in my class in that race. Overall Finish: My placing out of the Sea of the total number of Amateurs for that particular race. USRA 2008 Season Points Earned: Points received for that race. USRA 2008 Season Points Total: My running tally of points for the season. Season Points Position: My position out of the total number of racers who signed up for the USRA 2008 Season in the Desert Race Series for Open Amateur.

So as you can see I was dead last in my class and out of all the Amateurs who raced the Buzzard's Mesquite GP. 11 of those who signed up for the season in my class weren't there, so I wasn't dead last for points for the season after this race at least...but that's a small consolation.

But for some people the header may be self explanatory, yet I figure for others new to it that little explanation will help. On to the race report!

About a week prior to the race Paul had brought over his new KTM to my house so he could prep it in my garage. It being January and frickin' cold and he not having a garage...you get the idea. I was prepping the Blue Tank as well and getting all the information I could from him about the race. He having raced the rest of the prior season and my first race having been so long before I was a little nervous and excited at the same time, and talking about it helped.

Paul knew that the race would have a motorcross track in it and then an eight to ten mile loop out in the desert - it would be a timed race so you'd keep doing the track/loop until time ran out. Since both of us had ridden a lot in the area around Mesquite, we figured the terrain would be similar to what we knew out there, so we expected fast jeep roads where the fastest bike (coupled with the rider with the most nerve) wins. Paul would be well off on his new bike which was more than fast enough and of course he having more nerve than the average ten racers combined.

I commented off hand to Paul in a jokingly way, but secretly being totally serious, about how he might react if I beat him this race. (At left: Paul in the rhythm) He joked back but put it plenty bluntly that he would be pretty upset. The reason I was serious was due to my gym workouts. While I hadn't been as regular as I would have liked, I was going somewhat often, and I don't think Paul was doing much at all in that regard at the time. I still remembered how tired I had been in my first race and knew that physical fitness was key. I figured if I could have more strength and endurance than anyone that might be faster than me, I could still beat them because they would get tired before I would.

Ahh the sweet innocence of youth! Watching Paul's first race wasn't enough to open my eyes and be realistic...why should my first race have been any different?!? That is the great mystery...or something. Of course Paul would be upset, because he had a whole lot of experience with these races compared to me, rode a lot more, and, well, knew what he was doing. Yes if I pulled off and somehow beat him...ha, well it didn't happen and it's not going to for a while unless he hurts himself or something!

Anyways the race day came. Cruising around the pits/camping area before the race I sized up the competition. I had come down to the race feeling pretty confident, but as I noticed all the other Amateurs my confidence started to wane (this would become a recurring theme each race). Then the Experts went out on the course. Watching them fly around the motorcross track I suddenly felt very underskilled and in over my head. The motorcross track was the part that worried me the most. I'm perfectly comfortable flying through the desert at 90 mph not knowing what's ahead by going off those big jumps is completely unnerving.

However I was glad I chose this race as my first real race where I was on my own and not part of a team because since it involved the motorcross track there wouldn't be a dead engine start bomb run. I was still completely leery of those and wasn't excited to experience one. This race would start motorcross style - engine's already started, waiting for the gate to drop. On top of that, they ran the race only by division - so Experts had the course all to themselves and after they were done the Amateurs went and then Novices and so on. Due to the limited space on the starting line they started us a few classes at a time instead of all the Amateurs at once. I thought that this was a good way to get eased in to the racing scene instead of just taking the plunge with a dead engine bomb run next to 75 other guys. The Open class was in the first wave...which is one of the benefits of being in that class...so I figured I had a head start on the rest of the Amateurs. All I had to do was stay ahead of them and I'd place pretty good!

Lining up at the start opened the flood gates of the growing anxiety that had been building all morning. My breath was already short and my heart rate was going way too fast. I could feel the sweat already. There was a short riders meeting before we went, and it was there I received the worst news I could have received: the desert course was deep sand and deep whoops. In other words no fast jeep roads. Yes, I was definitely in over my head.

We saddled up and fired up the bikes ready to go...the countdown began...5...4...3...2...1 and the gates dropped! Well, they didn't drop so much as they just gently came down - I remember thinking how long it was taking the gates to go down. (At right: Paul off the start with the front of the pack. The new KTM gave him the Holeshot!) I had no idea when to go because of the gate, but as soon as everyone else around me took off I did to. Within 10 feet of the start I ate probably 30 pounds of roost (kicked up dirt from the back tire of the guy in front of you) from the two guys on either side of me.

I quickly decided that this was crazy, and backed off and let everyone else go so I could putt around the track undisturbed. I figured I'd let things thin out a bit and then make some passes one on one after the track - being all clustered together like it was off the start seemed a sure way to hurt yourself. I also had a minute or so before the next line started so I knew I had some time to get into a groove.

Surprisingly the track wasn't as scary as I thought it would be. After going over a couple jumps I found myself excited for the next one, revving it up and launching into the air with a big grin on my face. I found a rhythm and was able to clear some of the bigger jumps with gaps and was quite happy about it - until the whoops section came. Giant mounds of hard dirt closely spaced together with sharp peaks at the top. I still have yet to figure out how the good motocrossers can just fly over those things...however as bad as they were, I would soon come to look forward to them. I only had to experience the desert loop of the course to gain an appreciation for the motocross whoops.

Completing the first part of the track I got up on some straight fast stuff and proceeded to show everyone how I did on my kind of turf. Flying through that section I passed a few people and felt pretty good about the race now...somehow having forgot what I was told at the riders meeting already (or probably not wanting to believe it). This section was short lived, and the road took a dive into the Virgin River area, and it was there I saw the horror of what was to be the next seven miles.

The motocross whoops are intimidating because they're tall and sharp, really close together, and hard (so if you wreck on them it will hurt). However for those same reasons they're also extremely predictable, so it's just a matter of learning how to ride them. The whoops that were the majority of the desert loop were another story. They were tall and large and deep, but round tops (which is nice...but not nice enough to outweigh all that was horrid about them), not super close together, but not spaced far apart either. If they were just that it would have been tolerable - I can navigate those (or I could have at the time at a decent pace...I still would have suffered the same issues I did as it was, just not as severely). However the icing on the cake of these whoops was not actual, real icing...it was sand/silt about four to six inches deep. You could see the tracks from those racers who were in front of me going all over the place, evidence that I was not the only one who had a hard time in the sand.

(Front and center: By the look of those shadows you'd think they were going to land on each other...not so in this case (it's just a cool picture), but that's definitely a possibility and one of the reasons riding with the pack on the track is so frightening (as if wasn't enough with those big jumps!))

This stuff was next to impossible to control your front tire through. It felt like I riding over a sea of hands that would suddenly and quickly (don't forget extremely often!) grab my front tire and yank it to one side. While battling this I was also having to deal with the up and down of the whoops (a very tiring exercise). The key to tackling whoops like that (supposing there was no deep sand involved...well and even if there's deep sand involved, but without control of the front tire faster just means more crashing - or at least it did for me that day) is to go faster so you can get into a rhythm - this way you conserve energy and can get through them quicker because at the higher speed the bike is doing more of the work. Due to the sand keeping my tire out of my control for the most part I was not able to go as fast as I would have liked or needed to. Going over whoops slow will tax your legs like you're doing jump training for several hours in a row. As a result of this deadly combination, I was getting a double workout attack - my arms were getting extremely fatigued due to fighting the sand, and my legs and back were begging for a respite from the whoops.

I learned from this about one of the most necessary pieces of equipment a racer will get to modify his bike with: a steering damper or stabilizer. I'm still not entirely sure how they work, but since this horrific experience I have added one to the Blue Tank and can speak with surety that they do in fact work...they work wonders to be precise. There are a few hardcore guys out there who still do really well at the races and don't run stabilizers, and my hat goes off to them for such an amazing feat.

This little eight mile desert loop has since earned a place in history for me, as easily the longest eight miles in the world. Battling these elements wore me down in a hurry. Before I got to the one and only checkpoint in the desert loop I had crashed five times - two of which were so bad I went over the front of the handle bars. After the checkpoint I went down at least five more times (to be honest I lost track around ten crashes), with at least three of them being over the handle bars. Oh what a fool I was to even have thought that I might beat Paul this race!

I got back to the track where I was so happy and relieved to see hard pack dirt and jumps (remember the track was what had previously worried me the most!). (At left: After 30 agonizing minutes I finally came back to the track!) Sarah and the boys were right next to one of the jumps I had to go over, and with my new found confidence on the track I was eager to put on a show for the boys. I got to the jump and gassed it so I could clear the gap. However with my new enthusiasm for jumping I was still very new at it and unskilled. Motocrossers have incredible control over their bikes while in the air - something I still haven't figured out how they do. One of the most essential controls they have is keeping the bike level with the ground, so that the back tire doesn't hit first. If it does hit first and if you're vertical enough you could fall off the back and hurt yourself pretty good.

I failed to take into consideration this lack of skill when hitting this jump to show off for my family...as well I failed to remember how exhausted I already was - I had been out for maybe 20-30 minutes (so painfully slow), only done 8 miles, and I was ready to throw in the towel and sleep for the next ten hours. As mentioned in my post about my riding history, showing off seems to take precedent over any sort of common sense, so I proceeded to hit this jump and impress my family.

Oh I impressed them alright (see Figures 1, 2, 3, and 4 at right). (At right: Fig 1)

Immediately upon launching the jump I could tell something had gone wrong - the back tire was dipping down and the front tire was coming up...I was going vertical. To make matters worse I also realized pretty quickly that I hadn't been going fast enough to clear the gap. (At right: Fig.2 ) These two problems put together spelled certain doom for me, because I was now likely to have my back tire hit the top of the jump and then the force of my landing coupled with the downhill part of the jump would only make the bike go more vertical, essentially throwing me off the back. It was all but guaranteed.

I held on tight and braced for the worst, trying to lean forward to prevent this terrible crash. As luck would have it, I managed to land forward enough that the bike didn't throw me off, but the force of the landing caused a great jolt which in turn made my right hand turn up the throttle. (At right: Fig. 3) I was in a low enough gear that doing so brought the front tire right back into my face and again a spectacular crash was certain. So certain in fact I was already hearing all the gasps and "OOOH!"'s from the crowd that was there watching. I can't take credit for thinking this clearly since I was so tired, but this unfortunate turn of events warranted a knee-jerk reaction from my right foot, which applied itself to the rear brake making the front tire come back to the ground where it belonged. (At right: Fig. 4)

Disaster had been averted! Or had it? After this incredibly tense and stressful situation there was a 90 degree right corner directly in front me of. Adding more pressure to the back brake and now grabbing the front brake I slowed to where I could turn and went on my merry way. Indeed I had shown off for the people watching that area of the track, though not in the way I had intended! A near crash like that is always entertaining to watch, and I definitely didn't disappoint.

I rolled into the pits an exhausted mess. I was so tired I even turned the bike off, drank a whole bottle of water, cleaned my goggles off, and then just sat there for a minute (or two or three). I finally decided that I didn't come down all that way (Mesquite, NV is about seven hours from home) to quit after one lap, and that I would finish. I fired it back up and went back out on the course.

I played it a lot safer on the second loop - when I could tell I was getting so tired as to make me crash I simple pulled over, stopped, and rested. I figured I wasn't losing anymore time doing this than I was by actually crashing (which cost more energy to do anyways). I was able to finish the race without any more crashes. Speaking of the crashes of my first loop - there were a couple where I was literally pitched off the bike and sailed through the air. While the sand was the cause of my dreadful racing that day, I was thankful for it all the same for those few crashes. I hardly felt them since it was so soft of a landing!

When I got to the checkpoint on the second loop I bummed some water off the guys there who were nice enough to help me out. (At left: Carlo gets some hang time) I made a big mistake not taking the camelback on that course (I figured if I got thirsty I could make it to the pits and drink...too bad I didn't realize it would take me forever to do that!) but lesson learned! I made my way back to the track and was able to win over my show off desire and just play it safe and roll the jumps. I felt ok going through the pits and went out for another lap without stopping. Immediately upon returning to the dreaded sand whoops I wondered what my problem was and why I didn't stop! Time went by and I finished the loop and thankfully the race was over for me. I did three loops - all the other amateurs did four or five.

On the course I had been lapped a few times by the leaders, one of which was Paul, who placed 10th overall. The first time he lapped me he saw me off to the side stopped and figured something was wrong. I was trying to indicate what place he was in based on what I had seen in people passing me but stupid me (I blame it on the exhaustion...seriously) it looked to Paul like I was telling him to stop. As soon as I realized he was slowing down for me I waved him on and he flew by me. He passed me one other time. Carlo did as well. It sure is humbling getting shown up by a guy in his 40's!

To this day I can vividly remember the exhaustion I felt. My gym workouts had availed me nothing it seemed (granted, I really hadn't been that consistent with them back then), but the race at least motivated me to become regular with the workouts. (At right: Just look at those tired eyes...they're saying "Make it stop oh please make it stop!") I promised myself I would never get so tired as that again in a race. I was right about how much the physical fitness aspect played into racing - I was dead last because I simply did not have the energy to push as hard as I needed to in order to go at a good pace. A stabilizer would have helped a ton, but even without one had I been in tip top shape I could have done better and probably completed four or five laps.

After I saw what this race did to me and where I placed I wondered if I had been mistaken to join the Amateurs. I wouldn't feel good about that decision again until the next race...which hopefully you will be hearing about shortly! Until then...

P90X update

2008-06-17T07:32:00.002-07:00

So I've got five different race reports I want to post now (just had a race last weekend), but I keep putting them off. Therefore I'm going to stop posting weekly updates on P90X so I don't have any more excuses! Instead of weekly, I'll post reports at the end of the phases (that means pics for you to laugh at...er admire). So you should see at least two or so race report posts before the next P90X update, which I'm sure are more interesting anyways. At least I hope so. ;)

P90X Week 5...err 4? Wait...

2008-06-06T19:48:00.003-07:00

So I missed the real Week Four of my P90X, but I'm doing it before moving on to Phase Two...so am I on Week Four (the P90X part) or Week Five (how long since I started the workout)????

Who knows!

This I do know, the recovery week is over and it's on to Phase Two. It was a good week...except...well, I didn't stick to the schedule exactly. I still had a little trouble getting back into the established routine. As a result I missed one day, and so I just took out the mid-week X Stretch routine. And then to add with my confusion, I looked at the calendar wrong! As a result I did the wrong workout one day, and so I ended up just switching things up a bit instead.

Here's what I was supposed to do:
1. Yoga X
2. Core Synergistics
3. Kenpo X
4. X Stretch
5. Cardio X
6. Yoga X
7. Rest or X Stretch

As I mentioned I missed one day, so I removed the mid-week X Stretch. I did Yoga X and Core and for some reason thought that Cardio X was next so I did that one. Then I looked at the calendar and realized that I was supposed to do Kenpo.

So to make it easy I could have just done Kenpo the next day right? Well I like to make things hard so did Plyometrics actually. Or I didn't...or...yeah. At the beginning of Plyo the instructor (his name is Tony...has a sort of Michael Scott from NBC's The Office personality which helps the workouts move along actually) talked about how Plyo was the "X" of P90X - meaning it was the crowning workout, it was the toughest, it was the most hardcore etc. I didn't think anything of that - he sort of says that in every workout though he stressed it a great deal more in this one. Plus the Cardio X routine has some Plyo exercises in it and while they aren't easy they aren't anything terribly hard either.

I pushed play and went to work on Plyo. The warm up was about 10 minutes - much longer than most workout's warm up. I was feeling ready to go when the real workout actually started. The first few were some of the same exercises that are in the Cardio X routine. No big deal I thought, I've done these a bunch now. Five minutes goes by and I'm feeling it in my legs. No big deal I figure - that's pretty standard in any new workout...I feel it in the area we're working pretty quick. Five minutes more though and I could barely stand!

I only did the first 20 minutes of the Plyo disc before I had to stop...and 10 minutes of that was warm up! I cannot believe how extremely tough that workout was within that first 20 minutes and I still had 40 minutes to go. I will have to try it again toward the end of the 90 days, but I think I believe Tony when he says it's the crowning workout of P90X. I've only experienced that kind of fatigue a few times that I can remember...the most recent being around mile 60-65 of the Sage Riders National this year. It was like all my strength just left me.

So the week got a little messed up and I ended up missing one day entirely, and only making 20 minutes another day. The Sixth Day I did Kenpo X which I was supposed to have done the day I did Cardio X. It's one of my favorites, and it's hard in its own right and after Plyo it seemed like a good workout to get me moving forward again.

This put me to Day Seven in the week with a choice of Yoga X or X Stretch. I'll be honest, I'm not a very big fan of the Yoga routine. For starters it's an hour and a half, and secondly, it's mind numbingly repetitive. I understand that that is a lot of what Yoga is about, but it's a hard workout to put up with when all the rest are changing it up often and are exciting. However the benefits of the Yoga routine are felt while doing it (if you don't feel them then you're doing it wrong...seriously), so I decided to do Yoga, and then just before bed the last day, X Stretch because that feels so nice at the end of a week. However time got away from me that day I ended up doing neither. So my recovery period was two weeks instead of one and not very much working out either...but what it didn't do for my body it did for my resolve. I'm heading into Phase Two with renewed commitment and dedication.

Things are moving along! Phase Two confusingly (as I have already mentioned) doesn't change a whole lot from Phase One, but I'm excited for the new workout - Chest, Shoulders and Triceps. Two areas that I think need the most work.

More pictures after Phase Two is complete. Stay tuned!

New Motorcycle!

2008-05-31T20:12:00.009-07:00

Ha! I wish I was posting about a new motorcycle I had just purchased! No I'm still on the trusty old Tank, Paul's Yamaha WR426. But I think I've found the bike that I would purchase for myself were I in a position to do so!

Behold! I give you the 2008 Husqvarna TXC 510:

Yes, a thing of beauty, power, mystique, and chainsaw...err yeah. Anyways, this lovely beast of a bike was introduced to me while one day browsing bike reviews on the ThumperTalk website (great site by the way...any motorcycle enthusiast should bookmark it).

It actually can be tied back to Paul getting his new KTM. One day while talking with him about it he went over several factors that led him to the decision of that particular bike. I agreed with the factors that he placed importance on: weight, power, and height among others.

After reading the review of the Husky on ThumperTalk I decided to dig a little deeper on it...the more research I did the more it seemed that the Husky trumped Paul's KTM in every area that played a part in his decision on the KTM, but there was one thing that put the icing on the cake: Husqvarna's Race Contingency.

Most manufacturer's offer some sort of race contingency - a program where you race their bike, and they reward you for winning on it. It's really quite a detailed arrangement, but that's the gist of it...it's sort of preliminary to sponsorship. KTM has a race contingency program, but it's pretty limited, as are most of the programs from other manufacturers. This is where Husky flat out blew me away. Their contingency was extremely comprehensive, covering all the major race circuits but nearly all the smaller more local ones too. Their rewards are "Husky bucks", which while not real cash can be used to purchase things from Husky (such as maybe a new bike???)...but Husky rewards cash as well on certain race circuits for the upper level of skill classes, and of course placing high.

So after my initial musings I had to test ride or see a Husky and learn as much as I could about them. The Husky forum on ThumperTalk has been a tremendous help in this regard, but something that's been a big damper on the idea is that there are no Husky dealerships in Utah. There's three in Idaho, one in Colorado, one in Nevada, one in Arizona...we're completely surrounded but nothing local. Bummer.

The closest one is just north of Idaho Falls, which fortunately isn't that far away, but even more fortunate is that it's owned by a friend, Chris Rogers. Chris is a friend through his brother Clint, who races in the same class as Paul and I in the USRA desert circuit. We first met Clint at the Rhino Rally race in St. George back in February. Paul met Chris in March, but I just met him for the first time, at his dealership a couple weekends ago, when I went up there with my dad to try the Husky's out. I rode three of them: the TXC 450, TC 450, and TE 250. I have some thoughts on each. (Check out Husqvarna's website in case you want to read more them.)

First the TE 250:
Pros - lightweight, street legal, fuel injected
Cons - weak power, weird kickstand
The TE is Husky's enduro line and the 250 has a lot going for it. While I listed the weak power and the weird kickstand as cons, they're really not that big of issues. The power can be fixed with modding and tweaking, and the kickstand, while weird, wouldn't take long to get used to (it's spring loaded so its normal position is up...as a result when it's down and the bike is resting on it it pushes the back up higher making getting on or off with the kickstand down much more difficult). The pros outweigh the cons easily...the lightweight bike would be fantastic with more power, street legal would be great in getting to and from local trail rides, and the fuel injection is nice since it eliminates carburetor issues (probably #1 sore spot in maintenance on a motorcycle). This is a great bike with a little work attached to it to make it great. My dad was quite impressed with it and even talked liked he was considering getting one.

The TC 450:
Pros - very lightweight, great suspension, plenty of power
Cons - power delivery too smooth
The TC line is Husky's motorcross line, and the 450 is no slouch. It feels so easy to handle and maneuver and the suspension is fantastic for a stock bike. While there is plenty of power, the delivery of it left me wanting. It's all a matter of choice and preference - there are lots of professional riders who like this type of delivery due to it's predictability and throttle control. I grew up on this kind of power delivery, but since I started racing I have started to like the opposite of smooth delivery - that being a harder and more pronounced hit in the power. The kind where you crank the throttle and the front tire comes off the ground no matter what gear you are in. The TC didn't have it as hard as I like, but it was certainly harder than the TE. But I also don't know if I would like the hard hit if I raced motorcross...I'm not sure if it's a good thing there or not. I putt around on the track occasionally but I am not a motocrosser at all so maybe the TC has a really good delivery for that type of racing. Either way it was enjoyable to ride!

The TXC 450:
Pros - lightweight, easy to handle, great suspension, electric AND kick start, six gears, hard hit/great power delivery, and LOTS of power
Cons - no kickstand, small gas tank
The TXC line is a new line for Husky - meant for Cross Country racing and desert racing. It is also built off of the TC line initially, so it started as a motorcross bike. I wonder if KTM has it similar, in that the SX is the motorcross bike and the XC is their desert racer, and they're both extremely similar.

The TXC 450 was a pure joy to ride. Unlike its motorcross counterpart it had the hit where I wanted it. It felt plenty light and the handling was nothing short of amazing for a stock bike. It felt small underneath me compared to the WR and Paul's KTM even, making it extremely easy to handle and maneuver. The hit wasn't as hard as Paul's KTM, but I don't think that is a bad thing actually...Paul's KTM has unlimited hit and torque it seems, which could get you into trouble more easily. However if I decided I could handle that I've been told that the TXC 450 feels like a smooth delivery system when compared to its big brother the TXC 510, which is the bike I was initially interested in.

No kickstand is a bit of a bummer - even Paul's KTM has one, but I'm sure it wouldn't be a big deal to get used to or to even add one to it. Electric AND kick start is great also, and the electric start works great when in gear (a problem with Paul's bike...he has to be in neutral or it won't start up right away), so I would be sure to get great starts at the races if I used electric there. And the six gears is a huge plus as with any bike I've ridden with only five gears I've found that when I've topped it out I always want more. With six that's much less likely to happen. That's one of the areas that the Husky trumped the KTM. The others were it's dry weight (it being lighter) and stock suspension, as well as the 510 having a bigger engine as well (Paul's is a 505 - not much smaller, but still), and then have electric and kick start options (the KTM is only electric...would be a bummer if you were 100 miles out on the trail and your battery died).

The biggest con in the Husky lineup for all models though is the gas tank size. I'm not sure who's decision that was, but it was a poor one. It would be a big factor right now because I've got a race coming up with 127 mile loop in it...that means I'd need to stop for gas at least twice in that loop to make it to the pits. That would be a killer on my time, making it so I'd end up having to battle the same people for positions more than once. There is a company that is reportedly making bigger tanks (IMS) but they're not out yet and supposedly there won't be many of them due to IMS not wanting to over supply. The issue is surrounding the fact that the 2008 bikes are different frames and setups than their previous ones, so making after market tanks would mean they can only be sold to 2008 owners. I guess that's a big risk for them.

However I'm still very, very impressed, and to put it bluntly, I WANT ONE! Feel free to donate to the cause! Haha! Wouldn't that be great - I can see the headline now in the local newspaper, "Man gets new motorcycle thanks to generous donations from his blog readers"! Well I can dream right? Anyways, Husky has a new fan, and I have a new dream bike.

P97(?)X Week 4: Recovery Week

2008-05-29T10:37:00.006-07:00

So Week Four has been a little rough...not in the traditional sense of the word though. Rough in that having just come from a four day vacation, I've struggled a great deal in getting back into a routine. The schedule for the recovery week is a little easier - no hardcore weight training days. Mostly yoga, stretching, and some cardio.

What I also mean by rough is that I missed even more days this week than I missed last week. And by that I mean that I missed them all. Week Four is the recovery week...a slower pace, take it a little easier. Well I took it MUCH easier, as in I didn't do a single workout!

So what to do? Pick up with Week Five, which starts Phase Two, or just do Week Four having taken a whole week off? I still haven't quite made up my mind, but I definitely seem to be leaning toward picking up with Week Four's workouts.

A plus of doing this is then I have another week to decide something else concerning the program. I'm a little confused because the idea behind this program is to switch it up a lot so you don't ever plateau and slow or stop your progression...well Phase Two is exactly like Phase One with only one workout different. Instead of Shoulders and Arms on Day Three of the week I do Chest, Shoulders, and Triceps. I like the sound of that workout - it having two areas I think could use a great deal of enhancing...but I'm confused about that being the only difference...doesn't seem like a very big switch from Phase one and thus seeming like it would cause me to plateau.

So my decision I am considering is switching out another one...or two. I'm going to watch through Plyometrics and maybe Back and Biceps or Chest and Back and see what they're like. I may switch out Core Synergistics for Plyometrics and one of those other two for Legs and Back...hard to say though - the leg routine in Legs and Back is pretty good and I need it for the races for sure. So another week to decide...probably a good thing. Oh! In other news, I got a chin up bar...should be getting here in a bit, but I'm excited for that as whenever chin ups are required in the workouts I've just been doing push ups.

But another reason, and this one probably trumps all - taking a full week off seems to have undone a lot of the progress I've made. Not too happy with that! So with this, I've now extended P90X to P97X...adding another seven days. Hopefully that's all that gets added...let it be known that of a surety P90X is better than P97X...adding those seven days of doing nothing just sets you back!

So next P90X report will likely be about the week this report was supposed to be about. Yeah, the story of my life it seems! Anywho, I'm going to try and get some of my race reports in here to mix it up...been a lot of P90X posts in a row now. Stay tuned! Because I know just how exciting I am to read about! (I really do, my wife is SURE to let me know, EXACTLY how exciting my posts are...she holds nothing back!)

P90X Weeks 2 and 3

2008-05-28T06:32:00.007-07:00

Got behind a bit with the posts - my apologies if you were checking it now and again and didn't see any updates.

I've completed three weeks of P90X now and am happy with the progress. Workouts that were extremely difficult at first have become doable, and instead of dread I look forward to each workout with anticipation.

I ran into some trouble in Week Three - I had a crazy 24 hour flu one night which made me miss a day. I picked up where I left off the next day, but then a vacation weekend came up and I missed another day due to getting ready to go. On the vacation I attempted to catch up by doing two workouts in one day...which caught me up, and kicked my butt at the same time. Coming home from that vacation brought me into Week Four, where I'm now three days into the week, but haven't done a single workout. It is supposed to be a "recovery week" - so the program isn't the same and it's mostly easier routines and stretching or cardio. Next week begins the second phase which will be tougher than the first, and different of course - part of keeping one step ahead of my body so I don't plateau.

What to do? Try and make up the three missed workouts, doing two a day until I'm caught up? Or just pretend I didn't miss those three days and pick up where I would be? I can't decide...I'm leaning toward the latter, especially since doing two in a day last week took so much of my energy. Week Four's report should say what I ended up doing (if I can get on top of the blog and make one on time!).

Anyways the program is going well despite the couple mishaps along the way. Here are some pictures (scattered throughout the post) to show my progress (if any) - these were taken at the official end of Week Three. It's hard to see it sometimes - I feel way better, but these pictures don't look a whole lot better than the "before" pictures. I know it's only been three weeks so I probably shouldn't be expecting any huge change yet, but anyways have a look.

P90X: Week 1

2008-05-12T20:12:00.002-07:00

So I thought at first I would take a new set of pictures each week to track my P90X progress but it's actually been nine days since I started and I'm already a couple days late with this report as it is. Adding pictures - well it probably wouldn't happen until the end of two weeks. So with that, I'll attempt to post pictures of the progress at the end of Week Two. Hopefully I can deliver, because I know my fans need their entertainment! And I need their encouragement (teasing?)!

Anyways, a few words about my first week with P90X. I did 7 different workouts, one each day of the week:
1. Core Synergistics
2. Cardio X
3. Shoulders and Arms
4. Yoga X
5. Legs and Back
6. Kenpo X
7. X Stretch

If you are familiar with the program at all you may recognize that as the Lean Routine - a little more cardio than the Classic Routine and less muscle work. As mentioned in the original P90X post I chose this routine to get warmed up and used to P90X in general. And I'm glad I did! Looking at what the Classic would have been, I may not have been able to finish one week!

This is serious stuff and very intense, but it's great too - I already feel much better even if the results aren't completely visible. By the seventh day I was very sore, but the X Stretch workout was great to loosen me back up and get me ready for the next week, which is a repeat of the first. I do that same sequence three weeks in a row, then it changes up for Week Four, then a new sequence for the next three weeks after that.

By far the hardest particular workout I've done is the Yoga workout. Last summer when visiting my older brother Matt I made fun of him for doing Yoga occasionally...had I had any idea what Yoga could be like I wouldn't have (sorry Matt)! I have only ever felt that level of exhaustion after 60+ miles in a desert race.

I'm already into Week Two a couple days, but I'm feeling good. Entertainment...err pictures coming at the end of the week with the report. Teasing...err encouragement in the form of comments is appreciated as always!

P90X

2008-05-06T22:25:00.008-07:00

It's been a dream of mine for as long as I have been an adult to be a model for Abercrombie and Fitch and see my rogue figure on one of their giant posters hanging in the front display of their stores across America. This is a true statement.

And what I mean by that is, false. It is a blatant lie, but it is an entertaining lie for it is laced with sarcasm (which on the Internet you are sure to not detect). And in the end, isn't that the real truth? The answer, is no.

However if I were to pursue such a course in life I have found the means to do so: Beach Body's P90X program. But my goal is not so lofty as to have women gaze at my amazing body in malls all over the country. My goal is to be able to complete these races without running out of energy halfway through; my goal is to have the endurance necessary to push and give it my all for the full length of the race. While I'm sure my skill isn't good enough to win the races, my skill is at least at a higher level than my endurance. Therefore my endurance is holding me back the most (a fact you will see as more race reports are posted) at this time and if I can fix that, I can focus on my skill more. I think I could improve several placements if I could just give it my all the whole race...placing 1st Overall Amateur? I'll need to improve my skill first, but I think I can be top 20 to top 15 with my current skill if I can just last the whole race.

Now before you look at their site and think, "Okay you're doing it wrong - that's just going to get you looking better." I have to let you know that a lot of dirtbike racers use this program, both motorcrossers and desert racers. And after learning more about it I can see why - this program is intense and really elevates your whole physique to a higher level of fitness. A higher level of fitness will translate into the endurance needed for the races.

So luckily I have a friend who had just done the P90X program and offered to let me give it a test run. It is a pretty comprehensive program involving 12 different workouts each on their own DVD, it also includes a diet program and supplement program. Since I'm just borrowing it I only be doing the workouts first, but I figure if I like it I will make the purchase and do the entire system.

Watching the first DVD that explains the program there are basically 3 different P90X routines: Lean, Classic, and Doubles. Even though I've been racing at this point and consider myself in decent shape, this program is intense and so I'm starting with the Lean routine first. After 90 days of this, if I'm happy with it the workouts (which I fully expect to be), I'm going to buy the full program and then proceed to do the Classic, and then Doubles. Based on what the first DVD went over, the Doubles routine sounds like the one that will be the most useful for desert racing as it essentially is the same as the Classic routine only more of it (2 hours on select days of the week instead of 1).

I'm excited for this! The program calls for before and after pictures, so here are my before pictures! Don't laugh too hard if you can help it! I'll post a weekly update with my progress so check back for laughs...err inspiration! (I apologize for the poor layout...blogger leaves a lot to be desire in terms of layout. If you are familiar with blogger and know some tricks to better layouts, let me know please!)

2008 Season: USRA Desert Series

2008-05-05T13:21:00.007-07:00

Between the 2007 and 2008 season Paul became even more committed to racing; he bought a new motorcycle: a 2008 KTM 505XC-F. During the 2007 season the trusty Yamaha had done well, but occasionally Paul was left wanting for more power or speed. The KTM delivers in this area extraordinarily well. It's pretty much the most amazing bike I've ever ridden, and I'm sure he'd agree (that's why he bought it, right?). (Picture: Behold the glory that is KTM's 505XC-F)

This turned out to be a great deal for me as well because Paul decided he would keep the Yamaha, and as a very generous act he allowed me to use the Yamaha for the 2008 season. I was then and am still very happy and grateful that Paul decided to do this as I am now pursuing the race dream and loving every minute of it (even the roost!).

So when this all transpired I took a look at the upcoming season and decided to pick out what races I would do. Though it was more than 6 months earlier the memory of my race at Buzzards in 2007 was still fresh in my memory, so I decided that I wouldn't seek an early death and only participate in a handful of races. I had been working out at the gym off and on without super dedicated regularity since the Buzzard's race in 2007, but I still knew I was in no shape to tackle a full season.

The first race this year would be January 26, the Buzzard's Mesquite GP in Mesquite, Nevada. I figured I would go to this one for several reasons: I really liked the Buzzard's race I did in 2007 with Paul, I have ridden around Mesquite for several years and knew the area pretty well, and the winter had been pretty harsh and some sun would be nice.

After that I planned on doing the AMA National Hare and Hound put on by the Desert Foxes in Wendover, Nevada on March 15. This same group put on a race in the same area in 2007 and Paul had placed 1st place Overall Novice. He mentioned that the terrain was more what we were used to, and the Foxes also had a reputation for fun courses, so this seemed like one not to miss.

Third I would go to Monticello, Utah to race in the Rough Riders AMA National Hare Scrambles on June 15. Paul had done this one in 2007 as well and had had a lot of fun there. It also was in a cool area and good for a camping weekend with the family.

In August there was a race planned that sounded very intriguing - Desert Foxes were putting one on in Bryce, Utah, which sounded like a great area to ride in. It would be on August 16, my oldest child's birthday, so we could make a camping weekend out of it too...and as an added bonus I could place really well hopefully since it would be my 4th race and I will have gotten more into the swing of things.

To finish the season, the Buzzards had a race planned for November 1 which they hadn't announced the location yet, but given my experience with them in 2007 I figured it would be good.

You'll notice that I did not plan to do the Sage Riders races in 2008. This is because I figured I wasn't up to par yet and able to handle their races, nor would I be when their races came up (first one by them was on April 5). I could still remember vividly Paul's first race at Sage Riders, and the last race of 2007 for him had also been a Sage Riders race and he had said it was even more brutal than his first race. No, I needed more time before I could tackle one of their brutal endurance and skill tests.

After I got my schedule all planned out I was ready to go. I signed up for the USRA membership and picked my division, class, and number: Amateur, Open Class, #65. I had been #65 during my ice hockey days as a teenager so it has a bit of nostalgic value for me. I chose the Open class for a couple reasons: Paul was in it, so it would be cool to be "competing" with him (I use that loosely...I knew I was in no shape to really compete with him), and the Open class is the only one that doesn't have a letter identifier next to your number. Call me shallow...I didn't want my nostalgic number being tainted by the presence of an unwanted letter to designate my class!

I chose the Amateur division after a lot of discussion with Paul. He had done Novice his first year, and I was inclined to do the same. However he explained that if he could go back he would have probably started in Amateur, knowing what he knows now. And that is, the Novices are typically the most numerous at the races and the skill range in the Novice class is much more varied than in any other. This adds up some chaotic times during a race that can hinder you a great deal despite your own ability. Paul assessed that both of us were at least of Amateur ability, and that we'd have more fun there since we'd be starting out ahead of the Novices and thus avoiding the crowds associate with that division. At the time I trusted his direction but was somewhat apprehensive.

It's pretty fun typing this up and reading it knowing full well that I'm telling it just as it was...and looking back and noticing how blissfully ignorant I was. I talked to Paul a great deal during all this and he humored me with my talking's and ideas about it...I have to wonder now if he just had a big smile on his face the whole time knowing that I truly had no idea what was coming my way. As a teaser for posts to come, know that at this point in the season so far (today's date is May 6 and as noted in another post I've already participated in four races) it has played out pretty much nothing like what I had planned.

The Hill of Doom

2008-04-28T19:20:00.021-07:00

Soon after Paul's first race he bought himself a motorcycle. At the Sage Riders he had borrowed our cousin's Yamaha WR250. The bike seemed to do great in a lot of terrain, especially single track, (Picture: Flowers on the Bomb Run) but Paul has always been a fan of endless power, and the 250 had left him wanting. So he picked up a 2002 Yamaha WR426 hoping it would have such power.

We had always ridden our dad's bikes, and they were always stock with maybe a larger gas tank to help with the long rides in Baja. With this new (to him anyways) bike Paul dug in to find his inner mechanic and open up the bike to release the power within. Riding this bike reminds me of the XR650 I rode in Baja...and it came to pass that I was pleased.

Right after Paul purchased his bike there was another race coming up. Knowing that we shared the dream of racing, and that this upcoming race had a Team Class, he invited me to come race it with him. So my first race had finally come: Buzzards Hare Scrambles in Spring of 2007.

The course consisted of two loops of the same 25 miles. Paul would race the first half (because honestly I was still jittery about the start line) and then when he came into the pits I would take over and repeat the loop. 25 miles was nothing for us...on the terrain we were used to...but with the type of terrain these desert races had who knew what to expect? However we had heard this wouldn't be quite as different for us as what Sage Riders had been so we were optimistic. With each of us taking a loop we should have plenty of energy to push hard on our loop in order to place well.

I'm still quite glad I didn't start the race - the sage brush was tall and thick and more than a few guys went down when they didn't avoid it. Still it was exciting to watch, as all these starts are, and I was getting psyched as the race began.

Waiting at the pits was excruciating. Even more so than at his first race, (Picture: The WR426 in all it's glory with its commanders for the day. Paul on the left, me on the right. No I am not photogenic.) largely due to the fact that when he came back, it was my turn. It didn't seem to take long for the first Experts to start coming back to the pits. We were at the end of Pit Row and a part of the course came by pretty near to us and it was fun to watch them flying through. The first place overall rider was impressively fast, and I suddenly felt very unskilled and unsure about my own riding ability.

Paul came in and the course layout disoriented him a bit - he stopped right on the course near the pits and yelled to ask if that was where he turned in. Sadly no - he had another 5 miles to go before coming into the pits. But now I knew my time had come - I had no idea what to expect and I was incredibly nervous. He rolled in and we put a little gas in the bike and I hopped on ready to go. He let me know that about 12 miles in there was a gnarly hill climb that gave him a lot of trouble and told me to try and find an alternate route because it would slow me down. In my head I thought that if I could beat the hill first try it would not only stroke my ego but give me a one-up in the competition between brothers department. A hard lesson was to be learned this day.

Since we were at the end of pit row I took off and went up the hill behind us on the course - knowing full well I was being watched by many I turned it on and nearly crashed on the way up...providing at the very least some comical entertainment for those watching which included Paul, his family, and my family. I didn't make it far before the first problems occurred; within a mile I turned a corner and stalled the (Picture: In the Team Class, you line up with the Amateur's. This was our line up) bike, and the two guys I had just passed prior to that passed me right by again while I struggled to start it up again. I got it going again and headed off on the course.

I was amazed at how quickly I became winded and tired. Adding the stress of the race, the physical demands of pushing my ability to the limit, and the concentration level I was operating at totaled up to a massive stitch in my side which persisted for the next 12 miles. I had a difficult time breathing and found myself wanting to stop and rest - which I didn't do until I was "forced" to. I had always thought myself in decent shape, with my endurance a strong point for my physique. But this race showed me that I was nothing and before I had gone 5 miles exhaustion was showing signs.

Stalling the bike continued to be a problem for me. Even though I had had a chance to take the bike for a practice ride the week before (where the stalls were an issue for me as well) I had not been able to overcome this challenge yet. This was a "hot bike" as my dad would say and I wasn't used to how they worked yet so I kept stalling on corners that I would come into too fast.

Despite being winded and getting a workout that was more draining to me than anything ever before, as well as the stalling problem, I was faring pretty decently. The course was nothing so brutal as what Paul described from his first race with the Sage Riders. In fact I don't recall any deep whoops at all, though there were long sections of incessant little bumps that grew a little tiresome (funny though - I can remember thinking that then, and now that I've raced a lot more I would love for a course to have those again!). There were some pretty tight single track that took getting used to, as well as a super sketchy hill descent. The course also included a few places with some fast jeep road that I used to my full advantage.

It seems it was only a few miles in when my camelback broke...I didn't notice it right away, but the mouthpiece had come off and was leaking all over me. I suddenly noticed my legs were wet and was wondering if I had inadvertently peed my pants due to the nervousness...to my (somewhat) relief that was not the case as the hose from my camelback was still shooting water everywhere. My only choice at this point was to keep it in my mouth, which would prove to cause me some problems later on.

Despite all this I was able to make several passes which made me feel great, though thinking back on it, as tired as I might have been (Picture: A great shot from the Expert Wave. Be sure to compliment my wife Sarah on her great photography if you see her) I'm sure I was a lot more energized than those who were going through this for a second time. But still I was making passes on Novices, Amateurs, and even a few Experts - it was a great ego boost!

After several hill climbs, which were moderately difficult but nothing most riders couldn't handle I began to wonder where this hill climb was that gave Paul so much trouble. I hadn't seen anyone in a while and wondered if I was past it. I had lost track of the mileage but I thought I might have been past the 12 mile mark. There was one hill descent that scared me quite badly, and I wondered if maybe he had had to go up that but then they changed the course or something. Kind of a stupid thing to think looking back, but I couldn't shake the thought of the hill he warned me about. Where was it?

I came through a mud bog and saw a bunch of riders off the course a ways, and then noticed a bunch more up ahead. The trail turned into some trees and then began a gentle incline. Quite suddenly there were racers everywhere; some heading off the trail in different directions, some just hanging out chatting with others, a couple guys laying down looking like they were taking a nap. I didn't have time to really take it all in and wonder what was going on before the trail took a sharp turn and then went up.

It caught me off guard but I quickly turned on the gas and headed up the hill. I quickly realized this was the hill that gave Paul problems, because it was very steep, sandy and washed out with big rocks strewn about either side (also strewn about were riders and bikes as well). I was handling it great and was about 3/4's of the way up when my front tire hit the steepest part of the trail and came off the ground. I was about to go over backwards but I quickly got off and caught the bike as if I had done it on purpose (you know what I mean? Like when you ride a bmx bike and pop a wheelie and then put your feet down and hold it standing up). I turned to the right and brought the front wheel down and moved off the trail to make sure I wouldn't be an obstacle for someone else.

My ego got the better of me here - had I just gotten back on the (Picture: Paul at the start, waiting for the banner to drop. The Bomb Run starts are dead engine, so when the banner drops you fire it up and hit the gas.) bike, gone off the trail a couple feet or so and finished the last 1/4 of the hill I would have made about 30 passes in that super short distance and helped our finishing place a great deal. Instead I turned the front wheel down the hill so I could make another attempt.

Thus, The Hill of Doom.

It's frustrating to look back and think about this, but at least I learned a valuable lesson from doing so - as in, never make that mistake again! Just watching people attempt the hill should have given me reason not to retry - it had become so washed out that pretty much nobody else was making it up. They were taking alternate lines to either side of the trail or going for anything else they could find where ever it may be.

I got to the bottom and instead of using the trail for my approach I went off to the side a bit to get a straight shot at the climb. My mistake on this attempt was impatience. A couple people attempted to make it before I went and crashed and were still on the trail. I picked a line to go around them, but I should have waited for them to clear out instead. As a result I only made it up halfway before crashing. The cons of the WR426 showed at this point. It is one very heavy bike when it's tipped over, especially when it's tipped over on a hill. It's a great deal lighter than my dad's XR400's, but still, the WR is a heavy bike. It was apparent that weight lifting would also be in my future as my skinny little arms struggled with picking the bike up again.

Between these two tries I was spent - I came back down to the bottom of the hill and parked the bike and sat down to rest. I was nearly out of water at this point in my camelback and all the exertion spent on the hill had made me a little nauseous (water logged!). While I sat there the huge group of racers that had been there began to thin out - new comers to the hill didn't even attempt it and found ways around. Before long there were only a handful of us left - stubborn people who wouldn't let the hill win.

I probably waited 20 minutes or more before my third try and with that one I got to the original 3/4's high location I made it to on my first try. This time the bike did go over backwards and I didn't have the strength to catch it. I lost 1/4 of the hill as a result, moved the bike over to the side and rested some more. After this whole Hill experience I decided that I wasn't strong enough to be a desert racer and have since tried to improve my strength endurance. That means going to the gym, which I'm back and forth on with consistency. But it is a positive side effect of racing - I'm much more careful about my health and fitness than I have been my whole life.

Not wanting to repeat the mistake that I made on the first try, I got the bike going again and tried to head up to the right of the trail. It was difficult going from a dead stop like that in the middle of a steep hill climb - the front tire kept wanting to come up and the back tire wasn't gripping on much. I regained that 1/4 of the hill I had lost in the last attempt but ran out of steam. I stopped to rest again.

The other stragglers that were still there had banded together to help each other out and were walking one bike up the hill at a time. The first bike was a little Honda CRF150R. It shouldn't have been too big a deal since it's fairly lightweight, but even for 4 of them it was proving a challenge. Feeling bad just watching them I helped out and after much struggling we got the bike up.

Looking at some of the other bikes left to go up was disheartening. That little Honda was a tough job, and the others guys were riding much bigger, heavier bikes. Luckily though the challenge to get those up never came.

I say that a little mockingly - it wasn't all that lucky because a major ego-killing moment had arrived...the first sweeper showed up. I'm not (Picture: The banner is down and they're off! Paul off the start on the right side of the picture just above the girl's hands.) sure how much time had passed since I first got there, but apparently a lot of time had gone by. Sweepers come through at the end of the race to make sure everyone gets home safe. I was under the impression that if you get caught by a sweeper then you DNF the race. Thankfully that wasn't the case this time, but I was worried that it would be.

Since I was closest to the top the sweeper came to help me first - he fired the bike right up and finished the last 1/4 of the hill like it was nothing. I was humbled for sure, and mad at myself as well. But I didn't get a DNF - he said to hop on and finish the race...he was going to help everyone else. With that, the Hill of Doom was now behind me...a lesson well learned.

Still not sure how the whole "sweeping" thing worked, I got back on the trail with renewed energy to finish the race so I wouldn't get caught by the sweeper again. Thankfully the rest of the course was pretty tame and I completed it with relative ease and very quickly. With about 6 miles left my stitch came back (thanks to all the rest at The Hill it had abated for a while) so I had to slow down a bit. As I came on to the part of the course that was near the pits I could see someone standing next to the trail. I got closer and could see it was Paul - it looked like I had the same effect on him for my part in this race as he had had on me for his entire first race. I stopped to let him know I was fine and that I had spent all my time at the Hill instead of racing, handed him my broken camelback and then proceeded to finish the last 5 miles of the course.

(Picture: We didn't know him yet, but the guy at the head of the pack in this picture is a good friend now. Here he is getting the "holeshot" in the Novice Wave; the infamous Carlo Sanchez)

We got the finisher's pin, so the sweeper that helped me out didn't cause us to DNF thankfully; finished 171 out of 215 finishers overall...4th out of 6 Teams. It was a fantastic course looking back - I would love the opportunity to ride it again, and it was a great first race and experience for me.

I was pretty hooked after this and wanted to do more. Unfortunately I did not have my own motorcycle, and not every race of the season had a Team class. Paul wasn't going to race the next one and was going to let me race it instead with his bike, but just a few days before that race I realized my schedule wouldn't allow it. After that Paul made every race of the season (I think). There were only a couple more that I could have raced Team with him, but there was always some commitment that I had already made that got in the way. So that would be my only race for 2007, but it was enough to get me to plan for 2008. I needed a bike, and I wasn't sure how I would get one to race, but I was going to race in 2008 for sure.

The Sage Riders

2008-04-23T17:27:00.016-07:00

(Or How it All Started Part 2)

After the trip to Baja in 2002 I knew racing was in my future, but I had no idea how it would happen. At the time I lived in Bellingham, Washington, and had no possible way of affording racing...not to mention I didn't know if there was any desert-style riding up there. I had another hobby at the time as well which took most of my free time, though I like to think that if I could have afforded to race I would have dropped that hobby in favor of racing.

<--Starting line at Sage Riders National Hare and Hound April 2007

Fast forward to 2005 when I moved my family back to Utah. Though I still couldn't afford to race, and my other hobby was taking even more time, the opportunity to at least ride again came with this move. I would be able to ride my dad's motorcycles and go on trips with the family again. We went on a few trips and had a great time and the desire to race was starting to surface again...but I wouldn't be the one to take the plunge and finally get the ball rolling.

In Spring of 2007 seemingly out of nowhere my brother Paul (who had always shared the dream of racing with me) announced that he had signed up for a desert race in Jericho, Utah, that a motorcycle club called the Sage Riders was putting on. It was going to be a "National" so that meant there would be good riders and we were excited to see how well he would do.

Paul at the start line (he's the one on a blue Yamaha WR250 in red gear and gray helmet):

I don't know how well he thought he'd do, but as I mentioned before I thought I was pretty hot stuff and I knew that Paul was better than me. He told me he was entering the Novice division which surprised me because he seemed like an Expert to me. But I figured it would be fine because he would just dominate and would show everyone how awesome he was by passing up Amateurs and Experts who would have a head start on him.

The start was crazy...I had seen maybe one or two videos of starts like that when I was a kid, but seeing it in person was something else. Called the "Bomb Run" by a lot of people, just watching it stressed me out. I got a good spot to watch from; the start line was in the sage brush and then ended up in some sand dunes and I was right next to one of the banners that started the marked course on the sand dunes.

(<- Paul in the thick of things)

When Paul's line came through he was right in the middle of all the action...it looked so crazy and insane! He was going for it though, and I felt good that when the course got narrower he'd turn it on and start passing people left and right.

Video of the start from that very race, but it's only of the Expert wave so you won't see Paul in it (the camera is shooting from the same area that I was watching from):

Back at the pits we waited for what seemed like forever. The Pro and Expert divisions didn't seem to take long on the first loop and so I waited out on pit row with anticipation - I was sure I'd see Paul coming somewhere in the middle of the Experts. He didn't show up with the Experts as I noticed the first several Amateurs start filtering through. It must have been a little tougher than I thought but no big deal - he'd show up with the Amateurs.

But then the first few Novices started filtering through the Amatuers. I was getting pretty worried now, thinking since he hadn't shown up yet he must have had a really bad crash or something and gotten hurt. He was far too fast and too good to be this far back in the pack.

For a while it seemed like everyone had come through, giving further weight to my thought that he crashed hard. But then looking down pit row I saw what looked like Paul...but it wasn't the Paul I knew - this guy looked tired. Really tired.

Well he rolled in to the pits looking kinda battered. I asked if he had crashed but he said nothing bad - he just was really tired from battling the other Novices (lots of them sprawled out on hill climbs) on the course. He related some of the crazy things he'd seen - terrain he hadn't spent a lot of time on before that didn't suit our style of riding: large deep whoops,

(Gassing up at the pits and telling us about the obstacles on the course - mostly other Novices that had crashed...I'm filling him up and Dad is in the orange shirt. Paul's wife and baby are in the foreground-->)
technical single track, crazy hill climbs - all this coupled with a whole bunch of riders of every skill level. We filled him up with gas and he took off looking re-energized.

Despite the fact that he had come in much further behind to the pits than I thought he would, and obviously exhausted, for some reason I still thought he'd take command of the second loop and come in ahead of all the other Novices. We didn't really give him that much time to complete the loop before heading over to the finish to watch him come in.

We probably waited there an hour or so and again I was getting really worried - this was my brother who was an amazing rider when we'd go to Baja and other places. I just couldn't fathom what this race course was like that would be so hard on him. What I've come to learn since then is that this terrain is not what we were used to. On the fast Baja-style jeep roads I'll still hold that we're quite skilled and fast...but that type of terrain isn't as tiring - you can sit down more to rest, it's not so technical etc. It's more just, how fast do you dare to go? These races like this Sage Riders AMA National Hare and Hound he did has a little fast terrain, but it has some difficult hill climbs, large deep whoops that suck the strength and energy out of your body, technical single track that you can't go fast on but requires more strength and agility. We've both come to enjoy this terrain as much as the stuff we grew up on, but if you're not used to it, it will drain you, and fast.

We waited for a long time and he finally came in - we didn't know it yet but he had had a really bad wreck on this loop and was hurt pretty bad, but he still gave us all a show when he came into the finish with a long wheelie.
(<-- He might have been hurt, but he could still show off!)
It was a totally new experience for him, but he finished his first race. He was in the Over 30 class in the Novice division in which he finished 7th, the 43rd overall Novice out of 55 that actually finished. Keep in mind at least a dozen Novices or so didn't finish the race (DNF'd for future reference - Did Not Finish).

Watching this whole thing made me a little more skeptical about racing instead of making me want to do it more. The bomb run start looked pretty insane and dangerous to me; the type of terrain he told me about on the course wasn't the kind we were used to and had ridden all our lives and it really didn't sound that fun. I really liked our Baja-style fast jeep roads.

Paul on the other hand, was hooked. He would race in almost all of the remaining Utah races that year and even eventually showing how good he was by get a 1st Overall Novice finish before the end of the season. My chance to race still hadn't come, but it would soon, even though at this point I wasn't as sure anymore that I even wanted to do it...at least not what he had just done...

Tomorrow is my 4th race this year: USRA Round 4, Firebirds Hare Scrambles. Race Reports are on the way, but I'm trying to keep this somewhat chronological. Next in the story is my first race, since I will only have done 5, I'm almost caught up!

The Disappearing Text Act

2008-04-22T16:40:00.002-07:00

When I view this blog at work the text doesn't always appear. If I scroll down it suddenly shows up, but when the page is loaded it's not always there. This always happens to me while viewing at work (Internet browser here = IE6), but it does not happen to me at home (I use FireFox 2.0 at home). I've heard from at least one other person that it happens to them, and it doesn't seem to matter for them if they are at home or school.

Does it happen to anyone else? Please comment and let me know. If it does I'd like to know what browser you're using as well. I'll see if I can find any info on this and correct it hopefully.

Thanks!

P.S. New posts coming soon, so stay tuned!

How it all started

2008-04-20T19:28:00.014-07:00

This weekend I will participate in my fourth desert race for this year, my fifth ever. I'm still surprised at times how into it I am now considering where I was just two years ago with my life...though at the same time I'm quite depressed at the idea of where I might be right now with my racing had I started two years ago. Or where I'd be right now if I had started when I first wanted to race...

Oh well! Coulda, shoulda, woulda...anyways, so for a little history on my riding and how I got into racing, read on!

I first started riding motorcycles at five years old. Details are a little sketchy with my memory these days, but prior to that age I would sit on the front of my dad's Honda XR500 when the family would go on riding trips. Whether or not I wanted to ride by myself or was gently persuaded to do so I don't remember...but I can remember the first time I did ride on my own. We had a little Suzuki JR50 and we took a trip out to a place called Manning - an old school motocross track that had long been abandoned in an area called 5 Mile Pass southwest of Salt Lake City, Utah and there I learned how to ride.

I was the youngest of four boys in the family (there are three girls in the family too, but two of them are younger than me and the older one wasn't around much when I was growing up) and by quite a bit too; the next oldest brother is six years older than me. So when I was five years old he was eleven and to me he was amazing on a motorcycle. I would watch my brothers fly around that old track and want nothing more than to ride as well as they did.

My dad encouraged us all at riding since it was a favorite hobby of his. He would take us out around two or three times a year at least, and he bought new bikes now and again too which was always nice. I rode that little JR50 until I was eight years old and had a blast on it. Around that time he bought a new bike; a Suzuki DS80. Man what a hot bike! I thought I was so cool on that thing and on the first trip we took with it (at least the first I remember) I showed everyone just how cool I was.

We went to Moab, Utah and were riding through a pretty windy wash. I can't remember the exact area, but I do seem to remember it was nearby another old school abandoned motocross track there as well. Being on the small bike I was behind the main group, but everyone was nice and wasn't going so fast I couldn't keep up. I rounded a corner and was surprised to see everyone stopped. Very slowly and one by one everyone moved forward, carefully going around a big rock in the middle of the wash. Since everyone was there I saw the perfect opportunity to show everyone how awesome I was, and how stylin' I was on the new bike. The rock in the middle seemed to have the perfect trajectory to jump off of, and I couldn't really see the other side but it had to be just sand or something - after that's all the wash was!

As everyone cleared out and moved forward they all stopped to make sure I got through okay. With all eyes on me I put it in gear and gunned it heading straight for the rock. My moment of glory was approaching! I turned it on and at full throttle hit the rock and pulled back on the handle bars to jump and waited for that great rush of wind and feeling of awesomeness to come. It never came...instead of pulling my front tire up and launching off the rock, the bike plummeted straight down into what I hadn't been able to see before which was the reason everyone was carefully going around the rock: a big 2-3 feet deep water hole. Before I knew what was going on my head was under water and the new DS80's rear tire sticking up in the air spinning mud at everyone.

It's a moment that will surely live on in family history for anyone that was there (though there have been more memorable moments since then...not always involving me but usually they did). There is a cause for this funny mishap that seems to be a common theme in incidents where I either crash or nearly crash. You might be able to guess it - it has to do with the fact that everyone was there and watching...the spotlight was on me...it was my moment of glory.

Yeah.

For whatever reason I have a hard time keeping my cool when I'm being watched. The first race of this year nearly had a pretty major wreck for me due to this same issue. Luckily it didn't, and truly, it was luck that saved me in that case. But I'll report on that when I get to that race report which will hopefully be soon. But for whatever reason when I see people I get all excited and turn it up a notch. Need to work on that. The good news for anyone else out there though is that if they're at a race watching me and they see me coming around the corner they can bet they'll get some entertainment in some form...whether it's me actually pulling off something cool or getting in a near crash or actually crashing super hard. It should be fun to watch anyways.

After a few years on the DS80 my dad got a Honda XR100. I rode this in a lot of places including my first several Baja trips. I moved from this to an old Honda XR200 we had had for along time, and from there I borrowed my older brother Matt's Yamaha TT350. I used a Honda XR400 after that, and one trip was able to ride a Honda XR650, which was the first "hot bike," as my dad calls them, I ever rode...more on that later. I was improving from year to year and with the bigger bikes was able to keep up with my brothers better and better.

The year the competitive spirit really hit me though was 1994. I was fourteen years old that year and we took a trip to Baja. This was different than anything I had been on - we weren't taking a motor home or a trailer for base camp like we had in the past...just the guys, their motorcycles, and backpacks with supplies. Perhaps after reading this my dad will volunteer the map or route and I can add it to this post, but I can't remember where we went at all. I was on the XR200 for this trip and it was the first time I really felt like I could keep up. But being able to keep up is what ignited the competitiveness in me - it was there all along, just hadn't been awoken yet in terms of riding.

It happened sometime during the middle of the trip, my brother Paul and I were riding through a wash that was a lot of fun and had excessively deep sand. We were riding side by side through it and it became quite challenging to remain like that and still go fast...but the rush of doing so only made me want to go faster. Since he was a much faster rider it was not a problem for him to keep my pace, so I pretty much set the speed and he just stayed next to me. It was such a rush - I was pushing it as hard as I could and staying on my side of the trail as he was right next me. We probably weren't actually going that fast through there when I look back and think about it, but at the time it sure felt like we were. The sand was deep and you had to have the throttle pinned all the way or you'd lose all momentum.

Riding side by side like this and going as fast as I was able is what gave me the rush of competition. I wasn't really trying to beat Paul at the time - just trying to stay with him since he could go much faster than I. But I was at my limit of my skill and ability and that limit was awesome. This was the first time I had felt that I was good at riding and that's when the idea of desert racing first came to my mind.

Naturally for me having ridden so much in Baja the Baja SCORE races were what I associated with desert racing. I didn't know what else was out there at the time but assumed that all desert racing would be like riding in Baja. Over the years we've been on several of the trails used in the Baja 500 and Baja 1000 races so I figured I knew what to expect. The dream to race in one of those races was born at this time and has remained ever since.

As the years progressed there were lots more trips and my riding ability increased. To be honest I thought I was pretty hot stuff...my ignorance of the desert racing world would serve to humble me in the future. However it was a good thing too, thinking that I was hot stuff - if I hadn't I probably wouldn't have given racing a try for fear of not being competitive enough or something. Though that sort of fear isn't a trait that's very common in my family so...

The last piece of the puzzle to how it all got started was only six years ago in 2002 with another Baja trip. I hadn't been to Baja since 1996 and I was excited at the idea of going again. I was newly married and in no way could afford to go, but luckily my dad wanted me to go bad enough he helped me get there and enjoy the trip. This trip introduced a whole new kind of bike to me - a really fast bike with seemingly limitless power: Honda's XR650R. Every bike I had ridden in the past had some sort of weakness I was always dealing with, whether it wasn't enough top speed or not enough hit or "oomph" in the low gears. The XR650 though...it had it all. There was always more speed to be had if I had the nerve to use it, and there was always more than enough power in the low gears and mid gears. What's great about it too is it didn't feel clunky like a lot of the other bikes I had ridden (of course, those bikes hadn't felt clunky at the time...they only did after I rode this one). It was large and heavy but balanced so well that it felt light weight and easy to handle. I felt invincible on this bike.

My competitive spirit coupled with a desire to show off and prove how good I was, added to the new found world of really fast motorcycles, conspired together to ensure that racing was in my future. Sadly at that time in my life being a new husband, soon to be a new father, and pretty much no money to my name it wouldn't occur until later. I've been extremely fortunate in my life though and the opportunity to race has presented itself - and it's much different than I thought it would be.

Next post will be a report of the first race I went to and got my first taste of what it would be like. I've got some pictures from that event so it shouldn't be just a read but have nice pretty visual aides to help you readers along. Also more good news - my dad is going to get me a bunch of his old slides and pictures for me to scan, so I'll be editing some of these older posts in the future to add pictures from these past events I referenced.

Welcome to The Desert Race Diaries

2008-02-28T19:09:00.003-08:00

The name of this blog is somewhat inspired by a movie that came out a few years back called The Motorcycle Diaries. However that movie had little to do with motorcycles and much more to do with a man's personal journey toward a paradigm. Unlike the movie from which I got the name, this blog will focus entirely on motorcycles - specifically desert racing.

I intend to detail each and every race, every practice ride, every simple joy ride, and anything I do to help with the racing such as diet, exercise, or mechanic work. I'm not great at doing pictures, but I will do my best to document these things with pictures as well.

So welcome to my desert race diaries. While you won't find any new political ideals or a tale of traveling a continent on an old street bike, you hopefully will find an entertaining and enjoyable story of a midlife crisis long before my midlife actually begins.