USRA Round 3: Sage Riders AMA National H&H

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!

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

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

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

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...

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!

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.