It's a sickness, I know, some sort of imbalance, maybe even a slightly disproportionate rotation of the earth in my own little world. It could be age too, or maybe my endless search for an elusive inner adult. Having played out my feeble attempts, though they are many, at racing hare scrambles, grands prix and other high speed events, I have come to the realization that endurance is my niche and technical is my forte. My most recent reports have revealed to you, my reading companions, that I've turned my attention to the ancient art of enduro. Like a breath of fresh air, I've welcomed this change of pace with the utmost fervor and aplumb. The Northwest Motorcycle Association, the organizing ATV body of Washington, still has an enduro series that attracts the likes of myself and others like me. Attendance at these races is high and the hosting clubs are very, uh, enthusiastic.
I left Eugene at noon on Saturday with bright sunny skies and little traffic on I-5 northbound. While slowing for traffic in Portland I couldn't help but feel like I was being watched. I glanced to my left and noticed a two-wheeled state trooper pointing his finger at me, gesturing to pull over. Hmmmm. One SEAT-BELT violation and $77 dollars later I was back on the track toward Olympia and the Capitol State Forest, the sky had become overcast. I tried to be "freindly" and B.S. with him about his nice BMW1100 but that didn't seem to work. Punk. As soon as I turned off the Five it began to sprinkle, perhaps the weather forcast for heavy rain that evening was correct! I arrived at the pits and did the usual fiddling and diddling with my trailer and bike. The rain picked up a notch so I thought it best to put a new rear on the 520. After talking with the locals and scarfing some food I turned in for the night. A fitful evening of sleep ensued as the amplified rain on my fiberglass trailer woke me many times between nightmares, ah, the good life!
Sunday morning, yes, race day, arrived with intermittent showers accompanied by gusty winds and a forecasted high of forty degrees, PERFECT! The ground was saturated and large pools of standing water had proliferated throughout the pit area. Large amounts of "motorcycle enthusiasts" began to pour in (note the pun). Not until signup did I know my minute, which turned out to be 10. There were three riders per minute and I got paired with Chuck Bolton, a local AA rider, and Carol Williams, a local woman that HAULS A$$ and WINS in the 250 Expert class on a YZF250. Just behind me, on minute 11, was Jason Dahners, multi-time NMA Champ and really nice guy. He ended up winning the enduro. The course started out with a 16mph average that wasn't hard to keep but the effects of the rain and the completely unfamiliar terrain made it interesting. Of note were the sections of two-foot deep whoops that had two-feet of water between them and the running water that ran down the trail. After a few crashes and tip-overs I began to get my "sea legs" but still found myself laughing at the horrid conditions and miserableness of it all. I was soaking wet within the first five miles. Pinch me! The first check wasn't a problem as my minutemates and I cruised in on our minute, enduro computers are soooooo cool. After a slower speed change and the approach of a possible check a bunch of us gathered up on a singletrack side-hill. This happens in an enduro when a "timekeeping" check might be ahead but you're riding "hot" on your minute. Sometimes you just have to stop. Anyway, there are two or three minutes worth of riders gathered there and Jason says "This is going to get really ugly!". I wanted to say "Huh?" or "You mean uglier?" or "What's your definition of ugly?" but I just kept my mouth shut. We all knew that after five hours of riding/racing in the rain we would have a good idea af what ugly meant. The next check was a little harder to zero but I managed. Chuck, Carol and I had a good clip going and we would take turns leading or let others by or whatever. Good riders and very polite. Right after the second check I hit a section of water-whoops and before I knew I was sprawled in the mud ten feet in front of my bike. Chuck and Carol came up to me and asked if I was OK, I waved them on, picked up my bike and kept going. I must have landed on my butt 'cause I've got one helluva bruise! Wanna see it? Later I asked them if they saw it just because I had no idea what happened but they hadn't made the turn yet. That got my fire going and I felt alot better after that, kind of launched the attack mode, as it were. I looked at my roll chart and noticed a 24mph section coming up that had a the look of "special test" written all over it. I let Chuck go by me and tried to stay with him for as long as possible but he was too fast, I did my best and came into the emergency check 1 minute and 20 seconds late. Not bad, I thought. Heading out of that check the trail got really nasty and, since you really never know when the next check will be, I put my head down and caught back up to Mr. Bolton. The rain was pouring down now, I think we had gained quite a bit of altitude too, as the pitter-patter of sleet made it's presence known on my helmet. Every once in awhile I'd come around a mountainside and get an unpleasant blast of 30mph wind in the face too. The trail itself was also quite challenging. Roots, rocks, sippy holes, g-outs, slippery clay, darkness, drop-offs, sidehills and, of course, more rain! It was deliciously brutal, a true test of stubborness mixed with skill and survival. Another special test came up toward the end of the first loop, I took three minutes on that one but still felt like I had ripped it pretty good, even passed a guy on the minute in front of me, cool! After 38 miles the course returned to the pits for an all-to-brief gas stop. It's funny, for that ten minutes the sun came out as if to say "Ha Ha!". Apperantly quite a few of the "motorcycle enthusiasts" had decided to call it a day at the half-way point, their diapers having been filled to the waist and their pacifiers fallen on the ground, out of reach from the high-chair. I choked down a banana and a king-sized Hershey bar, gassed the 520, cleaned the gogs and went back out, still soaking wet. The first check of the second loop was a close one, it's placement was very hidden and it occurred right before a faster section, where running hot would have been a good idea. Luckily, I'm stupid and the faster section didn't register until after I had zeroed the check, phew! The rain had abated to hard showers by now but there was still standing water everywhere and keeping the bike on all twos wasn't always happening. I crashed a lot. After the second check of the loop I began to hear a louder-than-normal chain slapping sound. I looked down to the drive side and, to my horror, saw that my chain adjuster had loosened and the axle had slidden forward. I rolled up the chart and saw a 10mph section coming up. I decided to gamble and ride hot during that section, gain some time and try to fix the problem. There was no way I was going to DNF after all of this effort. I rode ahead to the next possible, parked the mud-covered bike, took off the mud-covered fanny pack, applied the correct mud-covered wrenches to the mud-covered components (that had loosened because of the mud and water) with my mud-covered hands, waved "OK" to Mr. Dahners who politely asked if I was ok, put on the mud-covered fanny pack and proceded to catch back up to my minute on the mud-covered trail. PHEW! Didn't lose a minute and fixed the bike enough to finish. The last part of the loop was strange. The club ran us through some really tough sections and all kinds of possible checks that would have taken a lot of minutes, but didn't. I guess the idea was to keep us on our toes but not on the cards. Chuck had lost his odometer sensor halfway through the loop so gave me the "honor" of keying off of me. "Great", I said to myself, not only can I screw this up for myself but I can also take out a local AA rider with me! And he can rightfully say it was my fault! Carol was also keying off of me so I felt a bit a of a burden. At the same time, however, it made me really focus on the matters at hand and I/we managed to zero the seventh check, after a very long and cold 12mph section on a mountaintop. After riding for four and a half hours with Chuck and Carol, I wanted to finish the race on a good note. Guys, watch out, there are women in this sport that can kick your a$$. Carol is every bit an expert-level rider, she stands up all the time, pins it in the corners, has no problem finishing a five hour race and can keep time very well. On this day, I beat her by a few points, but a month ago she beat me fair and square and I have no problems admitting it. Very impressive. Going into the last check of the race Carol decide to ride hot into the minute, we didn't know where it would be but I assumed it would be right at the finish. Looking for a check is important, obviously. If you can see through the trees or over the next hill, you have the option of riding a little hotter, which gives you the option of slowing down and entering the check(especially and emergency check) on time. The final check ended up being right at the finish but there was a catch. Right before the last check, which was lined with spectators, was a HUGE water hole. It was an inundated road with ruts hidden under the murky depths. I, being a perfect gentleman, let Carol go in first, as the "peanut gallery" licked their lips and rubbed their hands with glee and anticipation. I watched as Carol's bike went deeper and deeper and got quieter and quieter. I followed her line, and couldn't help but get that sinking feeling as the 520 burbled it's way through the two-foot water. "Please don't stop" I said to the bike. We all got through and made it to the final check, on time, I might add. I had zeroed the 2nd loop! I was thrilled. Just as the checker was marking my card the bike died, it took me at least twenty seconds of hard-core thumbwork to get it fired up again! For some strange reason, the sun appeared again, laughing at us in all it's glory. I ended up 2nd Vet Expert for all of my effort, dropping 4 points for the day, Mr. Dahners dropped 1, good enough for me! The River City M/C hosted an excellent event and deserve credit for holding a "real" enduro. Not many clubs can support this kind of race anymore.
Now that I have enlightened you, my fellow reader, with my idle words of wit and fancy, I should like to implore upon you to unbridle your motorscooter of favour and go, forthwith, to thine nearest OHV accomodations and RIDE!
I left Eugene at noon on Saturday with bright sunny skies and little traffic on I-5 northbound. While slowing for traffic in Portland I couldn't help but feel like I was being watched. I glanced to my left and noticed a two-wheeled state trooper pointing his finger at me, gesturing to pull over. Hmmmm. One SEAT-BELT violation and $77 dollars later I was back on the track toward Olympia and the Capitol State Forest, the sky had become overcast. I tried to be "freindly" and B.S. with him about his nice BMW1100 but that didn't seem to work. Punk. As soon as I turned off the Five it began to sprinkle, perhaps the weather forcast for heavy rain that evening was correct! I arrived at the pits and did the usual fiddling and diddling with my trailer and bike. The rain picked up a notch so I thought it best to put a new rear on the 520. After talking with the locals and scarfing some food I turned in for the night. A fitful evening of sleep ensued as the amplified rain on my fiberglass trailer woke me many times between nightmares, ah, the good life!
Sunday morning, yes, race day, arrived with intermittent showers accompanied by gusty winds and a forecasted high of forty degrees, PERFECT! The ground was saturated and large pools of standing water had proliferated throughout the pit area. Large amounts of "motorcycle enthusiasts" began to pour in (note the pun). Not until signup did I know my minute, which turned out to be 10. There were three riders per minute and I got paired with Chuck Bolton, a local AA rider, and Carol Williams, a local woman that HAULS A$$ and WINS in the 250 Expert class on a YZF250. Just behind me, on minute 11, was Jason Dahners, multi-time NMA Champ and really nice guy. He ended up winning the enduro. The course started out with a 16mph average that wasn't hard to keep but the effects of the rain and the completely unfamiliar terrain made it interesting. Of note were the sections of two-foot deep whoops that had two-feet of water between them and the running water that ran down the trail. After a few crashes and tip-overs I began to get my "sea legs" but still found myself laughing at the horrid conditions and miserableness of it all. I was soaking wet within the first five miles. Pinch me! The first check wasn't a problem as my minutemates and I cruised in on our minute, enduro computers are soooooo cool. After a slower speed change and the approach of a possible check a bunch of us gathered up on a singletrack side-hill. This happens in an enduro when a "timekeeping" check might be ahead but you're riding "hot" on your minute. Sometimes you just have to stop. Anyway, there are two or three minutes worth of riders gathered there and Jason says "This is going to get really ugly!". I wanted to say "Huh?" or "You mean uglier?" or "What's your definition of ugly?" but I just kept my mouth shut. We all knew that after five hours of riding/racing in the rain we would have a good idea af what ugly meant. The next check was a little harder to zero but I managed. Chuck, Carol and I had a good clip going and we would take turns leading or let others by or whatever. Good riders and very polite. Right after the second check I hit a section of water-whoops and before I knew I was sprawled in the mud ten feet in front of my bike. Chuck and Carol came up to me and asked if I was OK, I waved them on, picked up my bike and kept going. I must have landed on my butt 'cause I've got one helluva bruise! Wanna see it? Later I asked them if they saw it just because I had no idea what happened but they hadn't made the turn yet. That got my fire going and I felt alot better after that, kind of launched the attack mode, as it were. I looked at my roll chart and noticed a 24mph section coming up that had a the look of "special test" written all over it. I let Chuck go by me and tried to stay with him for as long as possible but he was too fast, I did my best and came into the emergency check 1 minute and 20 seconds late. Not bad, I thought. Heading out of that check the trail got really nasty and, since you really never know when the next check will be, I put my head down and caught back up to Mr. Bolton. The rain was pouring down now, I think we had gained quite a bit of altitude too, as the pitter-patter of sleet made it's presence known on my helmet. Every once in awhile I'd come around a mountainside and get an unpleasant blast of 30mph wind in the face too. The trail itself was also quite challenging. Roots, rocks, sippy holes, g-outs, slippery clay, darkness, drop-offs, sidehills and, of course, more rain! It was deliciously brutal, a true test of stubborness mixed with skill and survival. Another special test came up toward the end of the first loop, I took three minutes on that one but still felt like I had ripped it pretty good, even passed a guy on the minute in front of me, cool! After 38 miles the course returned to the pits for an all-to-brief gas stop. It's funny, for that ten minutes the sun came out as if to say "Ha Ha!". Apperantly quite a few of the "motorcycle enthusiasts" had decided to call it a day at the half-way point, their diapers having been filled to the waist and their pacifiers fallen on the ground, out of reach from the high-chair. I choked down a banana and a king-sized Hershey bar, gassed the 520, cleaned the gogs and went back out, still soaking wet. The first check of the second loop was a close one, it's placement was very hidden and it occurred right before a faster section, where running hot would have been a good idea. Luckily, I'm stupid and the faster section didn't register until after I had zeroed the check, phew! The rain had abated to hard showers by now but there was still standing water everywhere and keeping the bike on all twos wasn't always happening. I crashed a lot. After the second check of the loop I began to hear a louder-than-normal chain slapping sound. I looked down to the drive side and, to my horror, saw that my chain adjuster had loosened and the axle had slidden forward. I rolled up the chart and saw a 10mph section coming up. I decided to gamble and ride hot during that section, gain some time and try to fix the problem. There was no way I was going to DNF after all of this effort. I rode ahead to the next possible, parked the mud-covered bike, took off the mud-covered fanny pack, applied the correct mud-covered wrenches to the mud-covered components (that had loosened because of the mud and water) with my mud-covered hands, waved "OK" to Mr. Dahners who politely asked if I was ok, put on the mud-covered fanny pack and proceded to catch back up to my minute on the mud-covered trail. PHEW! Didn't lose a minute and fixed the bike enough to finish. The last part of the loop was strange. The club ran us through some really tough sections and all kinds of possible checks that would have taken a lot of minutes, but didn't. I guess the idea was to keep us on our toes but not on the cards. Chuck had lost his odometer sensor halfway through the loop so gave me the "honor" of keying off of me. "Great", I said to myself, not only can I screw this up for myself but I can also take out a local AA rider with me! And he can rightfully say it was my fault! Carol was also keying off of me so I felt a bit a of a burden. At the same time, however, it made me really focus on the matters at hand and I/we managed to zero the seventh check, after a very long and cold 12mph section on a mountaintop. After riding for four and a half hours with Chuck and Carol, I wanted to finish the race on a good note. Guys, watch out, there are women in this sport that can kick your a$$. Carol is every bit an expert-level rider, she stands up all the time, pins it in the corners, has no problem finishing a five hour race and can keep time very well. On this day, I beat her by a few points, but a month ago she beat me fair and square and I have no problems admitting it. Very impressive. Going into the last check of the race Carol decide to ride hot into the minute, we didn't know where it would be but I assumed it would be right at the finish. Looking for a check is important, obviously. If you can see through the trees or over the next hill, you have the option of riding a little hotter, which gives you the option of slowing down and entering the check(especially and emergency check) on time. The final check ended up being right at the finish but there was a catch. Right before the last check, which was lined with spectators, was a HUGE water hole. It was an inundated road with ruts hidden under the murky depths. I, being a perfect gentleman, let Carol go in first, as the "peanut gallery" licked their lips and rubbed their hands with glee and anticipation. I watched as Carol's bike went deeper and deeper and got quieter and quieter. I followed her line, and couldn't help but get that sinking feeling as the 520 burbled it's way through the two-foot water. "Please don't stop" I said to the bike. We all got through and made it to the final check, on time, I might add. I had zeroed the 2nd loop! I was thrilled. Just as the checker was marking my card the bike died, it took me at least twenty seconds of hard-core thumbwork to get it fired up again! For some strange reason, the sun appeared again, laughing at us in all it's glory. I ended up 2nd Vet Expert for all of my effort, dropping 4 points for the day, Mr. Dahners dropped 1, good enough for me! The River City M/C hosted an excellent event and deserve credit for holding a "real" enduro. Not many clubs can support this kind of race anymore.
Now that I have enlightened you, my fellow reader, with my idle words of wit and fancy, I should like to implore upon you to unbridle your motorscooter of favour and go, forthwith, to thine nearest OHV accomodations and RIDE!
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