Well I got up at 3am for a 330am Sunday departure. On the drive out to the dez I knew it was gonna be a cold one, as I ran into some sleet at higher elevations. BTW, I saw two drunks on my drive. I guess 4am it's only truckers, insane dirt bikers, and drunks on the road.
Arrived at Lucerne just before the sun came up and the desert floor was covered in frost. After some slight confusion at signup, I waited for the Crew to show up. I never saw Holeshot, think I saw PhastPhart, and of course saw the Knucklehead contingency.
I was on minute 66 with 3 other riders I had never met. A XR600,CR500,YZ250, and me. I was the only one with a computer so after the start I actually thought I was doing well passing the other guys(turns out they just wanted to follow, cause I had the computer). Anywho, I blew 2 checks, but other than that I thought the first loop was great and I was actually expecting a much tougher use of terrain, since the Knuckleheads told me a District event would be tougher than a club race. I was having a blast roosting along trails I had never seen before. I really don't mind whoops, and I enjoy long rides, so this Loop was fun.
Coming in the rest after Loop 1, I refueled, had a snack, and was ready to start Loop2.
Well, Lesson 1,,,, District events are much harder than Club races. Lesson 2 Pat myself on the back for wearing CoolMax stuff.
Loop 2 started in a fierce headwind, I needed another gear on the MXC as I had her tapped out heading toward a scary trials rockface downhill (not to bad), but herein lies my problem. I need to be prepared and in the right gear for an on coming uphill. The first rocky uphill of the race and I just stalled in probably 4th gear. I lost time, but did catch up to zero the first check. After that, things went downhill fast. I messed up on all the uphills, dogpaddled down the rocky stuff, and was pooped. I was almost 17 minutes down when I crashed in the rocks. My bars came within 1 inch of making me a unic, plus the bike pinned me down with the footpeg ramming into my heel. Screaming in pain, some saviour on an ATK406 picked up my bike, saw my minute number on the front plate, and told me to stop and rest, before I hurt myself again. I told him thanks, and as he rode away, I didn't listen and fired up my bike, to try to get back on time. Finally, 3 miles before the last check, I got back on time, caught up to the other guys on my minute who had given up on me and started following minute 65, and got my finisher's pin.
Today Tuesday, I'm still sore.