USRA Round 7: Wendover 100 AMA National H&H

(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

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

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

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

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!