- Oct 13, 1999
- 2,812
- 0
Like the name suggests… ummm… there were some big stones on the trail. A 3:00 a.m. wake-up followed by a three and a half-hour ride with my friend Bob, got us to the start at the American Legion Hall in Wrentham, MA. The weather forecast, in the days leading up to the enduro, had predicted rain for Saturday night and all day Sunday. Fortunately there were only a few sprinkles that hit the windshield on the drive out and the skies held back until the end of the enduro. This meant dust, and lots of it, from the dry forest mulch surrounding the rocks. The route-sheet had plenty of resets and two 30-minute rest periods at the two gas-stops. I had programmed my odometer resets and timer speed changes from the information off the club’s, King Phillip Trail Riders, website. This left plenty of time for getting ready, stretching out and drinking water before our start minute came up.
Bob and I ended up on row 46. There were only two rows behind us. The only riders that passed me all day were those on my minute. I had a lot of trouble getting into any sort of rhythm in the first section… well pretty much all day I had trouble getting into any sort of rhythm. For some reason I couldn’t keep my butt out of the saddle. The times I did stand up and ride aggressively were when I was closing in on a slower rider. My nemesis that day was the rocky up hills. Our late minute meant all the loose soil surrounding the rocks was scrubbed away leaving square-edges just begging to pinch-flat a tire or put a “smilie” in your rims. Early on I was having trouble keeping my momentum through these parts and ended up stalling on several hills. Losing my odometer less than 12 miles into the event didn’t help much either. I only had my watch, timer and the mileage signs. Fortunately at my slow speed I wasn’t in danger of burning any checks.
These feelings of spodeliness were intermixed with a few ego-booster sections. The first one being the grass-track. A three-mile section of ribbon stretched through a field gave me a chance to really shine. Getting up on top of the gas tank, braking against the engine, weighting the outside peg and leaning the bike way over helped me keep momentum through the turns. Interestingly enough the workers were pulling up stakes and ribbon while I was going through. There were at least a half-dozen riders behind me too. I was able to smoke through this section and caught up to Bob coming out of this test section less than 30-seconds behind him.
A transfer section took us into more trail and more rocks which meant more spodely riding and more points dropped at the out check. A nice big reset got me back on time and I was able to utilize the entire 30-minutes of rest at the first gas stop. This allowed me to fill up my gas tank and Camelbak, down some orange juice (my latest weapon in trying to keep my legs from cramping up) and check out why my odometer quit working. Unfortunately the wires pulled out of the sensor and I didn’t have a spare. I had to spend the rest of the enduro riding turn to turn. Not a problem for a slow spode like me.
After the first gas stop we headed back out onto the course. This is where the first mistake in the C route sheet showed up. It told us to turn right, but the arrows, trail and the course worker were all pointing left. A short reset was placed to get riders back on time since we had to ride through town and go through a few stoplights. After the reset we blasted down the trail it was here that we encountered an arrow angled to the right. The woods road we were on angled to the right, but there was also a trail to the right. I spotted fresh tracks going down that rail so I stopped and turned around to re-read the arrow on the course. Everyone behind me turned down that trail. Like a lemming, I followed in behind. The funny thing was there were no markers going over a bridge. We did spot a person standing along the trail, but he made no effort to stop or re-direct us. We shot up a short hill and took a trail that angled off to the right. Another rider was approaching from another direction he pointed behind him and mentioned a check behind him. We turned around and headed back the direction we came. It was here that we spotted the guy we had seen on the trail again. This time he was pointing us in the correct direction, which led to the check we almost missed. When I arrived at the check, two minutes late, the workers didn’t seem to enthusiastic about marking my card. In fact I pretty much had to yell to get their attention. I also mentioned the less than adequate trail marking before the check before shooting off out of there.
Now this is my own personal point of view, but at a trail intersection it is always important to mark the wrong trails with a “W” marker to and make sure everyone knows the right way to go. Also if a worker spots riders approaching from the wrong direction he should attempt to get them to stop and get back on the correct path. Finally check workers should bust their ass to mark the scorecard when a rider enters the check. An enduro is a race against the clock and every second counts. Due to this error ~50 riders missed check 7 including three national AA riders.
After first gas was another section where I found myself bouncing off anything larger than a golf ball. I did manage to do some decent riding though. That meant no big crashes where my body would sustain massive abrasions and hematomas. I did manage a few minor get-offs along the way. I also was able to use a couple of the resets to catch my breath and chat with a few other riders including ISDE bound Amanda Mastin who was riding on the minute ahead of me. Those dreadlocks hanging out of a skunk helmet are pretty easy to spot. She was there with her father Randy and brother Cody, who will also be going to the ISDE in the Czech Republic this year. Good luck to the Mastin family!
The last long section of the C-course really took it’s toll on me. There were three parts where they had us riding along an old railroad grade that was completely whooped out. This made my legs burn and scream a couple of times I had some really wicked swappers. One was right in front of a group of pre-teen spectators. One kid yelled “nice save” as I rode by. Then there was the power line section with the big mud holes. This was another place where I really did good. As I came down the trail a spectator yelled “stay left” at me. I had no idea why, until I saw the huge mud holes literally crisscrossed with deep ruts. Here I picked my line looked far ahead dropped down a gear and used the low-end torque of the engine. Mud was flying everywhere and staying left was the key, but I passed three other riders floundering through this stuff which meant I had to cross some ruts at an angle to get around them. Coming through the last hole I saw a spectator point at me and thought I heard the guy say something like “that’s how you do it.” Once I got through I raised my left fist into the air and let out a big “yee-haw” which is my trademark yell anytime I pass a group of spectators, no matter how spodely I’m riding. This got a few hoots from the crowd of spectators gathered around.
The woods section after the mud holes seemed to go on forever and ever. Without an odometer I had to wait for a major turn where mileage was posted. I could barely stand on the pegs at this point. The only good part about it was that none of my muscles were cramping up. I knew I was running way behind when my timer went from mileage to a countdown mode. I finally hit the out-check and made my way to the second gas stop with 15 minutes of time left. I parked my bike, peeled my butt off the seat and staggered around until I found my gas can. There was lots of moaning and groaning along with talk of quitting, but not from my lips. I was bound and determined to finish my first National Enduro, even if I was only riding the short course. I spotted several riders laying on the ground. I knew this was a bad idea. So I sucked the last of the water from my Camelbak and waited for my minute to come up. Bob pulled into gas with five-minutes of free time left. I was able to get some extra water from him and we split an energy bar before heading back out on the trail.
The last section (of the short course) took us through quite a large variety of terrain. We even had to cross a railroad track. I was doing pretty good even though I was now in survival mode. My right leg finally started cramping up, but forcing myself to stand eased the pain somewhat. At one point I came over a sand hill and headed back into the woods when I noticed a rider from the minute ahead flagging me to slow down. Another rider on that minute was on the ground holding one of his legs. His TTR250 was laying on the ground just a few yards away. Turned out he broke his leg. Here’s wishing him a speedy recovery. I finally reached the last check on the short course and then headed back to the start. After 80 ground miles I pulled into the known control and asked the guys to return my stones when the sweep riders find them out on the trail.
I plopped down in my lawn chair until I had enough energy to take my gear off. I then drank the last of my orange juice and grabbed a cheeseburger and fries that the local scout troop was selling. About this time it finally started raining. Bob turned out to be the last rider on the course. He rode the long course. 112+ miles made longer when he took a wrong turn at the last A,B/C course split. After waiting around for scoring we finally decided to leave around 7:00 p.m. I dropped 162 points pretty pathetic considering overall winner, Fred Hoess, dropped only 30 points. I was 2nd in VetC before the club ruled on the C-class protest. Several riders tried to protest the arrow marking around check seven. Since 2/3 of the riders made check seven it remained. I’ll agree with the clubs ruling, but believe they should have placed a “W” marker on the wrong trail. The C-class did have a legitimate protest because the route sheet was incorrectly labeled. The last I heard they were giving everyone in the C-class a zero score for check seven. This would have brought me to 160 dropped points, but I would have dropped to third place. I was still unsure if they were going to re-score the C-riders that missed check seven. In that case they should have thrown out that whole section which also included check 8, which probably would have put me further back in the standings. Either way I came to finish my first National Enduro and I succeeded in doing so. I had a 6:00 a.m. flight to catch the next morning and really needed to get home an get some rest. Maybe I got some hardware and maybe I didn’t. Bob and I split driving duties on the way home while the other caught some sleep. I finally arrived home at 10:30 tired but damn proud that I finished the enduro. I want to thank the King Phillip Trail Riders for hosting this event. I’ll definitely be back next year even if it’s not a national.
---Woods
Bob and I ended up on row 46. There were only two rows behind us. The only riders that passed me all day were those on my minute. I had a lot of trouble getting into any sort of rhythm in the first section… well pretty much all day I had trouble getting into any sort of rhythm. For some reason I couldn’t keep my butt out of the saddle. The times I did stand up and ride aggressively were when I was closing in on a slower rider. My nemesis that day was the rocky up hills. Our late minute meant all the loose soil surrounding the rocks was scrubbed away leaving square-edges just begging to pinch-flat a tire or put a “smilie” in your rims. Early on I was having trouble keeping my momentum through these parts and ended up stalling on several hills. Losing my odometer less than 12 miles into the event didn’t help much either. I only had my watch, timer and the mileage signs. Fortunately at my slow speed I wasn’t in danger of burning any checks.
These feelings of spodeliness were intermixed with a few ego-booster sections. The first one being the grass-track. A three-mile section of ribbon stretched through a field gave me a chance to really shine. Getting up on top of the gas tank, braking against the engine, weighting the outside peg and leaning the bike way over helped me keep momentum through the turns. Interestingly enough the workers were pulling up stakes and ribbon while I was going through. There were at least a half-dozen riders behind me too. I was able to smoke through this section and caught up to Bob coming out of this test section less than 30-seconds behind him.
A transfer section took us into more trail and more rocks which meant more spodely riding and more points dropped at the out check. A nice big reset got me back on time and I was able to utilize the entire 30-minutes of rest at the first gas stop. This allowed me to fill up my gas tank and Camelbak, down some orange juice (my latest weapon in trying to keep my legs from cramping up) and check out why my odometer quit working. Unfortunately the wires pulled out of the sensor and I didn’t have a spare. I had to spend the rest of the enduro riding turn to turn. Not a problem for a slow spode like me.
After the first gas stop we headed back out onto the course. This is where the first mistake in the C route sheet showed up. It told us to turn right, but the arrows, trail and the course worker were all pointing left. A short reset was placed to get riders back on time since we had to ride through town and go through a few stoplights. After the reset we blasted down the trail it was here that we encountered an arrow angled to the right. The woods road we were on angled to the right, but there was also a trail to the right. I spotted fresh tracks going down that rail so I stopped and turned around to re-read the arrow on the course. Everyone behind me turned down that trail. Like a lemming, I followed in behind. The funny thing was there were no markers going over a bridge. We did spot a person standing along the trail, but he made no effort to stop or re-direct us. We shot up a short hill and took a trail that angled off to the right. Another rider was approaching from another direction he pointed behind him and mentioned a check behind him. We turned around and headed back the direction we came. It was here that we spotted the guy we had seen on the trail again. This time he was pointing us in the correct direction, which led to the check we almost missed. When I arrived at the check, two minutes late, the workers didn’t seem to enthusiastic about marking my card. In fact I pretty much had to yell to get their attention. I also mentioned the less than adequate trail marking before the check before shooting off out of there.
Now this is my own personal point of view, but at a trail intersection it is always important to mark the wrong trails with a “W” marker to and make sure everyone knows the right way to go. Also if a worker spots riders approaching from the wrong direction he should attempt to get them to stop and get back on the correct path. Finally check workers should bust their ass to mark the scorecard when a rider enters the check. An enduro is a race against the clock and every second counts. Due to this error ~50 riders missed check 7 including three national AA riders.
After first gas was another section where I found myself bouncing off anything larger than a golf ball. I did manage to do some decent riding though. That meant no big crashes where my body would sustain massive abrasions and hematomas. I did manage a few minor get-offs along the way. I also was able to use a couple of the resets to catch my breath and chat with a few other riders including ISDE bound Amanda Mastin who was riding on the minute ahead of me. Those dreadlocks hanging out of a skunk helmet are pretty easy to spot. She was there with her father Randy and brother Cody, who will also be going to the ISDE in the Czech Republic this year. Good luck to the Mastin family!
The last long section of the C-course really took it’s toll on me. There were three parts where they had us riding along an old railroad grade that was completely whooped out. This made my legs burn and scream a couple of times I had some really wicked swappers. One was right in front of a group of pre-teen spectators. One kid yelled “nice save” as I rode by. Then there was the power line section with the big mud holes. This was another place where I really did good. As I came down the trail a spectator yelled “stay left” at me. I had no idea why, until I saw the huge mud holes literally crisscrossed with deep ruts. Here I picked my line looked far ahead dropped down a gear and used the low-end torque of the engine. Mud was flying everywhere and staying left was the key, but I passed three other riders floundering through this stuff which meant I had to cross some ruts at an angle to get around them. Coming through the last hole I saw a spectator point at me and thought I heard the guy say something like “that’s how you do it.” Once I got through I raised my left fist into the air and let out a big “yee-haw” which is my trademark yell anytime I pass a group of spectators, no matter how spodely I’m riding. This got a few hoots from the crowd of spectators gathered around.
The woods section after the mud holes seemed to go on forever and ever. Without an odometer I had to wait for a major turn where mileage was posted. I could barely stand on the pegs at this point. The only good part about it was that none of my muscles were cramping up. I knew I was running way behind when my timer went from mileage to a countdown mode. I finally hit the out-check and made my way to the second gas stop with 15 minutes of time left. I parked my bike, peeled my butt off the seat and staggered around until I found my gas can. There was lots of moaning and groaning along with talk of quitting, but not from my lips. I was bound and determined to finish my first National Enduro, even if I was only riding the short course. I spotted several riders laying on the ground. I knew this was a bad idea. So I sucked the last of the water from my Camelbak and waited for my minute to come up. Bob pulled into gas with five-minutes of free time left. I was able to get some extra water from him and we split an energy bar before heading back out on the trail.
The last section (of the short course) took us through quite a large variety of terrain. We even had to cross a railroad track. I was doing pretty good even though I was now in survival mode. My right leg finally started cramping up, but forcing myself to stand eased the pain somewhat. At one point I came over a sand hill and headed back into the woods when I noticed a rider from the minute ahead flagging me to slow down. Another rider on that minute was on the ground holding one of his legs. His TTR250 was laying on the ground just a few yards away. Turned out he broke his leg. Here’s wishing him a speedy recovery. I finally reached the last check on the short course and then headed back to the start. After 80 ground miles I pulled into the known control and asked the guys to return my stones when the sweep riders find them out on the trail.
I plopped down in my lawn chair until I had enough energy to take my gear off. I then drank the last of my orange juice and grabbed a cheeseburger and fries that the local scout troop was selling. About this time it finally started raining. Bob turned out to be the last rider on the course. He rode the long course. 112+ miles made longer when he took a wrong turn at the last A,B/C course split. After waiting around for scoring we finally decided to leave around 7:00 p.m. I dropped 162 points pretty pathetic considering overall winner, Fred Hoess, dropped only 30 points. I was 2nd in VetC before the club ruled on the C-class protest. Several riders tried to protest the arrow marking around check seven. Since 2/3 of the riders made check seven it remained. I’ll agree with the clubs ruling, but believe they should have placed a “W” marker on the wrong trail. The C-class did have a legitimate protest because the route sheet was incorrectly labeled. The last I heard they were giving everyone in the C-class a zero score for check seven. This would have brought me to 160 dropped points, but I would have dropped to third place. I was still unsure if they were going to re-score the C-riders that missed check seven. In that case they should have thrown out that whole section which also included check 8, which probably would have put me further back in the standings. Either way I came to finish my first National Enduro and I succeeded in doing so. I had a 6:00 a.m. flight to catch the next morning and really needed to get home an get some rest. Maybe I got some hardware and maybe I didn’t. Bob and I split driving duties on the way home while the other caught some sleep. I finally arrived home at 10:30 tired but damn proud that I finished the enduro. I want to thank the King Phillip Trail Riders for hosting this event. I’ll definitely be back next year even if it’s not a national.
---Woods
