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General Moto | Off-Topic Posts
Thief River Falls Race Adventure (June 30th)
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[QUOTE="justalonewolf007, post: 1226593, member: 77294"] Part Three: At the time, the minutes and motos seemed to drag by, but now that I look back on it, they went quite quickly. With a start I realized that all the other women were in staging, and I had to scramble for my gear. The little CR was probably a little grumpy at my lateness, and balked slightly starting up. Essentially, this means I had to kick it five times instead of the normal two. As I handed back my clothespin, picked my spot and started heading for it, the guy who helped me unload appeared to prep my gate for me. He was explaining exactly how I should start as he packed a small pile in front, and some loose dirt in behind, but I was too nervous to put it to use. Even so, I got a better start than I thought I would, and pulled into the first corner just behind the big bikes. “AIEYAH!!!” I did my best to pull around the outside of the pack using the berm, as they had piled into the middle. I noticed that one had gone down, but wasn’t sure who it was. All I really cared about was that I was in front of the two smaller bikes. 223, Shea, was close on my heels through the first set of jumps. Then she took me in the corner. I plowed into the big whoops in an attempt to pass her back, and with the help of an almighty Aieyah, it worked. I barely held on, but my goon riding was getting me places (or so it seemed)! Third gear flung me over (rather into) the ditch, and I ended up landing with my rear wheel in the bottom. The chick behind me was pretty hot on my heels, so I held the little CR pinned into the corner and nearly went off the track trying to stay ahead of her. The nasty little knife whoops had been beaten down so much now that I almost felt fast going through them! I felt so fast that I even forgot to give the almighty Aieyah. As usually happens when I clear a challenging section that I previously thought I wouldn’t, I tend to focus on it and not the rapidly approaching things in front of me. The corner tabletop caught me by surprise, and I nearly wiped out coming over it. This left me rattled trying to negotiate the s-curve, and it was a terrible fight trying to negotiate the deeper ruts left by the bigger bikes. Although we flopped around like a dying chicken, but somehow, the little CR and I stayed rubber side down. “Cmaaaaan baby let’s do this thing!!!” The next ditch was hardly a dip, and we flew over it and the low tabletop in very good style. However, the turn that followed did not suit. In fact, both Shea and I went wide and went off the track. It wasn’t really a big deal, but getting back on through all the ruts was more difficult. By the time the little CR and I made it back on, it was time to turn again. Normally I don’t take the inside line, but this was an exception because the outside looked like Frankenstein’s scarred up face. There were so many ruts that it wasn’t even close to funny. She nearly had me on the straightaway, but not quite. Yet again we both went off the track because of the tough corner. I singled the low doubles, and flung myself over the tabletop. The turn before the single and the finishline tabletops had a very tall berm, so I picked the outside line hoping to hold speed. It didn’t go too badly, but I made the mistake of peeking over the high edge. I never realized how high that corner was, but it was bad. I didn’t go far over the tabletops, and practically coasted over them because I was so nervous. I held my inside line as best as I could, then went to the outside to try make it around turn one without losing so much speed. Shea made the smarter decision of passing me by taking the inside. I stuck to her tail hoping to make it past her, but soon we were both pressured into riding above our skill levels. Through the bigger whoops she lost a little control, and started the deadly side-to-side bike flop. My hopes rose a little, thinking she would slow enough or crash so I could pass her (please note that I DIDN’T want her to hurt herself, despite my evil wishings for her to crash). However, she made the coolest and most amazing recovery that I had ever seen a rider make! The next two laps were exactly the same, us riding completely out of control in the attempt to get each other. When I saw the last corners coming, I decided to try “goon it up a notch.” When I saw my opportunity, I tried to fling myself into the corner faster than her. Coming out of the corner, the muscles in my throttle arm froze with the poor little CR in WOT position. “AIEY -- *THUD* -- OOMPH” It took me a good five seconds to figure out why the dirt had all suddenly turned a beautiful shade of sky blue. Some of the dirt had even turned into fluffy…clouds? “What the heck? Ohh now I get it….OH! CRAP I CRASHED!!!” Then it took me another three seconds to figure out that I should stand up and pick my bike and start it again. Two more bikes blew by me as I hefted the rather upset little CR back onto its feet and kicked it to life again. “C’maan C’maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan start y’lil bugger!!!” Just like the faithful race companion it is, the little CR started, and with an anxious “BRAAAAAAAAAAAAP!” we were off to finish the last two jumps, corner, and finishline tabletop. What I hadn’t noticed is that the CR had sprained a handlebar, and going over the first jump, we nearly crashed again because my wheel was crooked as I landed. With that, we were groundbound for the last few moments of our first moto. We rode through the exit ruts, and headed for the trailer. Shea stopped by, and we congratulated each other on a good race. Really, both the little CR and I had pretty sore egos, as we had decided to crash in the LAST corner of the LAST lap. Shea said I would have still beaten two of the other riders if I had stayed up. After a short chat, they left and I began working on straightening out the tweaked handlebar. It actually untweaked without much problem, and the little CR began cheering up some (or so it appeared…). Between random talking and rummaging for foodstuffs, the heats flew, and it was again time for us to get to the gate again. With many wishes of “keep it rubber side down this time!” we went to get our place. I picked near the center, on the right side of the gate, as the first turn goes left 180 degrees. My logic was that I should point myself directly into the line I planned to take around the corner. The red light came on, and the little CR balked starting again. “C’man! This is no time to worry about your ego! We’ve gotta go soon!!” I’m a little glad no one heard the comment, as I have already been stared at enough for the day. Finally, the bike started, and I held a steady throttle to warm it up some. When the engine felt quite warm through my glove, I rapped the throttle a couple times, checking that the engine wasn’t bogging out in the mid or high rpms. I saw the last few vet riders approaching the last stretches, and shook out my neck, shoulders, and wrists in preparation for ride. The yellow light came on, and I tapped the gearshift into first, then found my clutch release point, holding it just past in preparation for the green light and gate drop. I was a little slower on the get-go, but still made it into the first corner just behind the bigger bikes. There was a small pile-up and crash on the inside, so the little CR and I kept to the outside, taking second place behind one of the bigger bikes for a short stretch. Then a 250 and 125 came up and passed me, shortly followed by Shea on her 85 catching me in the little whoops. The little CR and I tried hard to keep on her tail, but she was doing far better this time around. She pulled away until I barely saw her taking corners at the far ends of the straight sections in front of me. Two more laps went like this, and then I saw the yellow flag! She had gone down in one of the corners and was just climbing back on her bike. I pinned it, and she and I basically took off at the same time, her getting just slightly ahead of me. I rode harder and harder, staying just on her tail. Around each corner and over each jump we were all but neck in neck. Half way through the lap she pulled ahead a little, but I caught up again. Down the last straight section I held the poor little CR pinned as hard as I could. I started catching up, but failed to notice her taking the outside line around the corner just in front of the finishline tabletop. If I had seen sooner, I’d have chosen the inside line and would have gotten her, but instead I paused and rode through the middle line. I was dead on her tail, but Shea took the place ahead of me. I was a little disappointed, but still had a very good race, after a quick “good race!” to the other riders, I pushed the little CR to the trailer. Being tired and hot, I put most of my gear away, leaving the bike for last because I was too worn out to push the little CR back up on to the trailer. I considered riding it up, but my left hand was so numb that I couldn’t even pull the clutch lever in, let alone feather it to keep the bike under control going up the small ramp I had with. Just like the first race, everyone suddenly disappeared when I could’ve used them most. “Nuts.” I put the ramp in place, then went to look one last time. There were a few riders and pit crew standing looking a little busy over a mini quad, but I figured that I didn’t have much to lose. I was pretty sure that they could 1) ignore, 2) help, or 3) beat the tar out of me. Being that I’m small and cute, I figured that the chances of number 3 happening would be pretty slim. The first option wouldn’t really hurt me that much, so my odds looked okay. “Ah…(Here I put on my cutest helpless little female face)…I don’t suppose that one of you guys would be willing to help me get my bike on the trailer would you? (Here I stop and put a couple of those innocent blinks in while I wait for them to decide what they want to do)” They all basically stared at me for a solid ten seconds without saying anything. I’m thinking that I should’ve skipped the innocent blinks, and may have played the cute card too far (when the need arises, I am completely shameless when it comes to using cuteness to get something done). I was also covered with dirt, which probably spoiled the effect I was after. I was actually shocked when one of the quad riders AND one of the pit guys came to help. Then they saw the little CR and started giggling at me. “This is smaller than my kid’s bicycle!” It ends up that his kid was the mini quad rider that stared at me. They didn’t even use the ramp that I had all in place. The little CR was lifted over the side like a bicycle and tied down so tight I couldn’t even loosen the straps! I hadn’t realized how big they really were… After telling them how thankful I was for their assistance, I packed up the rest of my gear and drove off with a smile. Even though I crashed, it was still a great adventure. [/QUOTE]
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General Moto | Off-Topic Posts
Thief River Falls Race Adventure (June 30th)
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