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Tolle's Finley Race Adventure (June 16th)

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#1
http://www.steeleracingphotos.com/bikes/Finley/index.html

Pics ending with 27, 28, and 29 are me...

Race report will come sometime soonishly...I'll edit it into this post or something..

Brief summary:

I showed up. I walked the track. I got scared. I rolled every jump in practice. I rode above my skill level and cased a (they told me it was 30 feet) pretty big gap. I didn't fall off. I got a 2nd degree sunburn while waiting. I raced better the second time. I cleared the gap perfectly. I got second out of three. I got a SWEET trophy! :D the end (For now).
 

WomanRider

Mi. Trail Riders
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#2
congrads on the trophy

Nice pics
 
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#3
Congrats on the HARDWARE. Woo-Hoo. :yeehaw: :yeehaw:
Great pics, too.

Just one question: umm... Do you now have staff writing your race reports? Because if so... "staff" didn't cough up a story to meet our expectations! ;)

When's the next race? How's the bike running?

And has anyone seen Blndebomber lately? Come on gals... Race/Ride reports!!
 
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#4
I wish I had staff!!! Alas I had some cruddy luck this week...

My car and I went deer hunting late one night when I got off from work...and we got a four point buck.

Parents and boyfriend are LONG out of reach...so I wasn't too happy...which left me with the only option of...well, I had to call my boss to come rescue me.

Ends up he had to escort me home because it took out my driver's side turnsignal, and the headlight on that side also stopped working too. For which I was nearly driving blind because my headlights were junk to begin with...

Damage wasn't toooo bad at all actually...just a crumpled fender, hood looked almost untouched, but my driver's side door wouldn't open. I was relatively untouched except for being really rattled. According to the shiner on my cheek, my shoulderbelt didn't engage and I'm pretty sure I cracked my head on the window (or steering wheel?) pretty hard.

My boss showed up ten minutes later and checked the car over, then checked me over (apparantly I was saying stuff that didn't make sense).

He made me pose with the deer like I'd just gotten a prize buck in hunting season...Still can't believe that he made me touch it. At least there was some humor in that it's tongue was hanging out sideways much like it would have in the cartoons...I'll see if I can't get a pic up sometime somewhere...

It's lunch and the boyfriend is ordering that I stop writing to eat..so I'll edit the worst part of the day in later...Looking back now It's extremely funny.

The rest:

Once we'd taken a few pics and I crawled back into my poor little car through the passenger door, and we began the hour long journey back to my apartment. His huge pickup literally dwarfs my little car, so I felt quite a bit safer with the glowing eyes staring at me from the ditch. I have never seen so many deer out in my entire life!

We cruised through the first town with no trouble, but as we had laughed about only minutes before we left, I had a sneeking suspicion that I was going to get nailed by the cops when we reached our town. The police there, well, have some issues with being good law enforcment officers. There's only a few that will treat you nicely.

After the longest drive in my life, we reached town. Just as we predicted. I only made it 50 feet before I saw the shape pull out behind me, only to be blinded by the red and blue lights a split-second later. I pulled over, and rolled down my window, taking a moment to beat my forehead against the steering wheel a couple of times:

*thunk* "You" *thunk* "have" *thunk* "got" *thunk* "to be" *thunk* "kidding" *thunk* "me!"

*thunk* *thunk* *thunk*

*thunk* This *thunk* can NOT *thunk* be *thunk* happening!!!!

It was 1 am, and the guy walks up and shines the huge flashlight right in my eyes, which was frustrating because I was trying to read his name badge in case he tried anything funny. In addition to all the scareyness. I have NEVER been pulled over before, so I had no idea what to expect.

Cop: "Hi there how's it going for you tonight?"

"Ah...not very well sir."

Cop: "Well why's that?"

I was all but whimpering miserably at this point, as I wasn't happy about the day's events, and with a 15 hour workday stuck on top of that, I might as well have been a kicked puppy.

"Well sir, I hit a deer just a little while ago."

Cop: "Well did you report it?

"Ah, no sir, no one was hurt sir except for the deer which was killed sir. I didn't know you were supposed to report those things sir."

At this point I really began to hate my martial arts training, because it kinda trains us to dish out more "sirs" than a boot camp graduate. Being so nervous and miserable made me stutter too.

Cop: "Where'd you hit the deer?"

I mentioned the name of the town, and he had no clue where it was, so he shrugged his shoulders and asked for my license and proof of insurance. I handed over the driver's license and then realized that I had no idea what the proof of insurance looked like. I started digging through my glovebox (it was there, the dad said it was, I had never had to use it before though so I didn't know where it was in the stack of papers).

I handed him my best guess...and he laughed at me and said It was a little card, not the piece of paper I handed him. Finally, I noticed that my boss had swung back around, and parked a ways in front of me.

I thought he was going to sit there and wait for me. Except he got out and was going to talk to the officers and show them the proof that I'd just hit the deer, as he'd taken the pics with his cellphone.

I hadn't even seen him open his door until I heard the cop talking to me say: "HE DOESN"T NEED TO BE HERE!!!" To which they started pulling their guns on my boss, and the second cop chased him back into his pickup.

In that time I had managed to blink all of two times and goggle at my poor boss. He's not a big burly guy by any means, but I supposed he looked rather threatening as he was fairly upset with my being pulled over.

I explained that I lived in town, and only a couple blocks from where we were stopped, but the officer didn't seem to get it. He also wouldn't believe that the guy in the pickup was my boss. I had to repeat myself about four times before he finally relented. Then he started asking about the deer again, insinuating that I had gotten into a mild car accident and failing to report it.

It was then that he smelled the deer excrement that was all over my door.

Cop: "ohhhhh yuck..that's still kinda wet."

"Yes sir, it is."

He gave me a warning for the headlight that wasn't working. Then told me I didn't have to send it in, and that it also wouldn't go on my record.

"Thank you sir."

With all that worry about protecting their streets, they never even asked where I lived in town, nor escorted me to my apartment to make sure that I wouldn't get picked up again by the other cops in town or get in some sort of accident because of the headlight and turning signal.

I'm just glad my boss was there. He even fixed my car the day after, and bought me a hot fudge sunday from Dairy Queen.

I owe him an arm and a leg by now, as he even offered his garage and tools to my little CR.
 
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#5
geez Tolle, I'm glad you are okay!!

Last summer when I was talking to my motorcycle license instructor I said something about being afraid of other drivers or something as my worst fear... He said his was "deer at night". He meant hitting one on his cycle. Something that until that particular point in time I had never thought of, anticipated or otherwise.

Kind of gives me the jeebies just thinking of it. :yikes: I am glad you had that car around you to protect you!

Looking forward the rest of the story. Sure wish I had your gift for telling a tale. :cool:

Please be careful with that head for another week or so. Milk it for extra attention from your cabana boy, too. ;)
 
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#6
Here's the rest of the story

:) Now I've gotta go make Cabana boy some chocolate chip cookies.
 
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#7
Tolle, Wake up! I realize you've had a bump to the head, but you forgot to put the story in!!

Now, tell Cabana boy to take a break from hand-dipping your cookies and wiping your chin and fill us in! ;)

oh, hell with it. Who am I kidding. Make that boy work. Kick back. Enjoy.

The story will keep. :laugh:
 
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#8
oh, wait... now I see it. It's up above. Must have lost my concentration thinking about Cabana boy... I know, I know.. He's yours. LOL! Now tell him you need your pillow fluffed and some ice for your temples...
 
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#9
Deer Excrement. Just one of life's little instant karma moments, eh?

Good tell, Tolle. Get well. Cheers and a big hug to your boss. Nice people are really cool. :cool:
 
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#10
Okay, now that cabana boy’s had his cookies made, I’ll try get this report done while he’s happily engaged in NASCAR races…

This race occurred near Finley ND, aptly titled “The Race at the Base,” as it was held at the old air base…

I finally got serious about my front forks, and was able to pay the rather hefty price of having them professionally redone after receiving my paycheck. I also ordered a new front tire, because having cased the doubles at Greenbush so badly I put a four inch split in the sidewall that was pretty deep. The rest of the tire was pretty weather checked too, so I figured that it was for the best that the little CR got some new front rubber.

The dad stepped in and said that he would let me bring the little CR to the shop where he works in order to save me the $150. He’d done the front fork seals on my older brother’s ’97 XR 250 a few years ago, so he figured that the little CR couldn’t be too much different or that much more difficult.

He was wrong.

We started at about 6pm Thursday night, using a truck lift to raise the front wheel off the ground. We found out the hard way that the frame is tilted, and we had to strap the poor little CR down to the lift. I tried to give the bike some comfort and patted the seat, telling that the tiedown strap was for its own good and that the new fork seals would make it a much happier motorcycle.

At this point, the dad caught me talking to the bike and promptly said that I’d have to use my psychology education on myself. Thanks dad.

After an hour’s work, mainly reading things over and checking pieces out, I left for an hour for my martial arts class. I love it to death, but some days aren’t as productive as others when it comes to learning new patterns, punches, and movements. This time around, the instructor (a 3rd degree black belt, and only a year older than I am) decided to make it a “fun day.” This essentially included playing a slightly modified version of “king of the hill.” Instead of a hill, we had a mat that was roughly 12’x12’. Instead of choosing one person to push off, it was everyone against everyone.

I am the second smallest person there, and although I usually ended up being one of the last four on the mat (out of about 12 or 13), the blackbelts found an easy way to rid themselves of my presence via a “belt slam” as they so descriptively dubbed it. This included being literally seized by my belt, and literally being picked off the ground, and literally being flung in the air to land seven feet off the mat. Everyone excluding myself though this was pretty good sport, and began a “Tolle’ flinging contest” for the rest of the hour.

Dazed, tired, sore, and with a torn uniform, I made it back to check on the dad’s progress. We ended up having to fabricate tools in order to get certain pieces apart, which caused several delays. Four hours later, we’d finished the first fork. The fork fluid was incredibly low, and very very dirty, but luckily there was no scoring or scratches inside any of the tubes. We figured that after spending 6 hours on the first fork, that we could have the second done in an hour. As things generally tend to run, we ended up spending three hours on it. At this point, it was 3am, and we had successfully finished despite the fact that we were both completely clueless as chickens without heads (kinda – we did have the owner’s manual for guidance, it was not so terribly guiding).

The tire arrived late, so Friday evening I scampered out to the farm with the little CR in tow. The tire went on far too easily with the help of the dad. My little CR was almost a new bike! As it was getting late, I left the bike at the farm and went to catch up on some much needed rest.

I woke up early, hoping to get to the track by about 8am. It was supposed to be an hour’s drive from the farm, which made it roughly 1.5 hours from my apartment. I was 30 minutes late starting out, and became even later as I was defeated by the manual overhead door to the shed that was babysitting my little CR. Even the Aieyahs didn’t work this time, and I managed to give myself a muscle cramp in my back.

Luckily, my older brother was home, and with the aide of the beloved family dachshund (loves to jump around on sleeping bodies and will do anything for a treat), I roused him from his state of unconsciousness. Well, at least he was somewhat roused. His speech patterns told me otherwise, but as long as I kept him pointed towards the shed, we made pretty good progress for it being that early in the morning.

Finally I was on my way, and the trip ended up being blessedly uneventful.

I showed up:

By the time I arrived, it was a gorgeous day, and I picked a parking spot that seemed to be pretty close to where the starting gates were. I registered and got in a few laughs with the ladies that work as counters. Somehow they have some sort of joke going about who can remember my name the most times. I am called everything from Brittney to Betty, yet, anything but Bethany, which is my first name.

For simplicity’s sake, I’m going to have “Tolle’” put on my bike, jersey, and chest protector. It’s my nickname, and more commonly used by everyone because no one seems to remember my first name. I unloaded the bike to find two familiar quads parked on either side of me. One was the rider who helped me get over the doubles at Greenbush, while the other was the quad dad who kept talking about his kid’s good equipment and machinery. Again, I had to explain my lack of fans and pit crew, then went to check out the rather discombobulating lay of the land.

I walked the track:

I finally found the starting gates, which felt like they were a half mile away, then began my journey around. First off after the gates came a wide sweeping turn, which led into a tighter, nicely bermed corner. Coming out of this was another corner that led directly into the whoops. At first these seemed pretty intimidating, but they were rather spread out, so I felt that I’d be able to navigate them without too much trouble. I was nervous because of the new rubber and front fork adjustments. I had no idea what the little CR had in mind for me that day, but I was determined to make it around.

The whoops led into a nice mid-width turn that gave a decent run-up on a very user friendly double. In fact, it was much like a tabletop…only…it was a double. That led directly into a bermless turn which only had a short run-up on a rather strange looking obstacle. It looked like result of someone trying to breed the almighty Cooperland step-up with a….single whoop. It was a mini step-up, and rather befuddling to my senses. I had no idea how to approach it, let alone clear it. Thus, I put it on my list of jumps to roll.

Following that was a slight curve that led into a very small rhythm section that I felt confident in clearing. That led into a tight turn with a pretty tall and steep ramp. Essentially it was a 6’ drop-off. It was another jump added to my list of jumps to roll. Coming down from the drop off was a short straight section with one very low table top, a speed bump, then the finish-line table top that looked very user friendly as well.

Then I saw *IT.*

I got scared:

The sight instantly put that ominous “DUN DUN DUN DUN” sound effect in my head. When I tried to say “holy crap” it came out “holy gap!” in a terrified squeak.

I tried walking up the face of *IT,* only to have my boots slide completely out from under me. I leapt to my feet hoping none of the hot guys standing around had seen me go down, but they had, so I grinned and took a quick bow just for the sake of being a goon. Although the act served to slightly lessen my fear of *IT,* I was still in amazement as I counted steps. Thirty. *IT* was thirty feet! EEH! Thirty feet of straight downness! EEEHH!! “I counted wrong!! EEH it CAN’T be that big!”

One of the quad riders saw me standing there, still blinking at *IT.*

“Must be your first gap. Thirty feet is pretty scary the first time over it”

By the look that accompanied it I was pretty sure that he knew that I was a rather new rider AND that I was a girl (okay, so that last bit was pretty obvious because I was wearing a nice little tank). I was going to come up with a smart reply, but I could only nod. He only stood there until I finally managed to squeak out “I should’ve hired a pit crew or at least fans to pick up the pieces of my body and bike when I case this thing.”

“You’re alone eh?”

“Ah, yea. I am. First season racing, so no sponsors, fans, or pit crew yet.” It was still too early in the morning for my cuteness to work anything witty out. I was almost sure I’d have found someone to help push the bike around, but it ends up that he was parked across the track and was of no real help at all despite the offer he tossed out. The next time I turned around, he was walking away, but was kind enough to throw a friendly smile over his shoulder.

I gave the table top landing a good, but very quiet, “Aieyah!” just for good measure, then left *IT* behind to continue my walk of the track.

Directly after the tabletop landing was a ninety-degree turn that lead to another 6’ drop-off. However, it was more sloped as the entire ground level dropped off as well. A short distance after that landing was a small kicker that led into another drop-off. However, as I walked the turn that followed, I sank ankle deep into the mud hole that the turn was completely made up of. The turn had basically been made in the bottom of a ditch. I added this too, to my list of “trouble-areas-that-are-not-good-for-the-new-goon’s-skill-level.”

Having finished my walk of the track, I headed back to the trailer to check on the little CR and find some sunscreen for my obscenely white shoulders before they burnt. I nervously sat around for all of five minutes before getting up to pace back and forth. Five minutes after that, they called the driver’s meeting, so I scampered back up to the registration trailer. The meeting was short and to the point. People were going to be there, and we were supposed to put on a good show. I can handle the show part, but the people intimidated me quite a bit…

I was going to have many witnesses at my death! *IT* was going to kill me!

The thoughts were rather hard on my confidence, and I was having a very hard time getting myself ready for the race because I was getting extremely nervous.

…Then some hot guys walked by without shirts and I was fine again! :)

The photographer lady came and talked to me again, and promised to get some good shots of me this time (She did! Check them out at the top of this thread!)

I rolled every jump in practice. Almost…:

Practice went well, and I rolled every last jump except for the table top. Feeling cocky because it looked easy, I figured that I’d show off a little. Somehow I ended up in a nosedive, and honestly don’t know how I didn’t go over the handlebars. Thank goodness for the almighty panic rev! It probably saved my neck, and just barely at that! The photographer lady, and a few others even said they could hear my jaws rattle from the hard landing.

After the hard landing, I was too rattled to pin the throttle to try clearing *IT.* Everything else went beautifully though. With the new fork seals and correct fluid level, my suspension was stiffer, and steering handled so much better that I was much faster in the turns. The little CR was no longer diving around on me either, which was a wonderful feeling. I complimented my bike as we walked back down the “no riding zone,” holding the throttle open a little to both cool the little CR down and hide my words from anyone who may have noticed my muttering.

I tried to stay cool, and mainly relaxed in my car whilst waiting. There were three entries in the women’s class this time around, and I knew that the YZF 250 rider was there. However, I had no idea who the third rider was, nor did I know what she was riding. She never showed up for the practice laps. One of the quad riders who had parked beside me broke his arm in practice, and had been taken to the hospital. The other, who had helped me over the Greenbush doubles, asked how I liked the track and if I was nervous.

I answered that it was a fast track compared to what I’d ridden before, and mentioned the *IT.* He shook his head and laughed, he hadn’t cleared it in practice either. I was definitely in for a tough time getting around the track, especially with the audience. Even though practice went well, I noticed that I had no idea what the little CR was doing when we came off jumps. This only served to make me even more nervous.

The first set of motos went by quickly, and the crowd gathered and grew. I could hear them cheering in the background...I was shaking in my boots as I warmed the little CR up...

Race is coming next. I’ll edit it in when I get it written!
 
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#11
Brenda, that's a hoot!

I thought for a second you said the photog had posted pics of the "self-confidence" guys! ha ha ha ha.

We also have one of those bouncing enthusiastic daschunds (Roger)... Makes a good contrast to the lazy, always hungry, sleepy one. I do remember swearing I would never have one of these creatures as a pet. And still... Those cute brown eyes will melt your heart, won't they?

Excellent description of the track. I really wish I could crew for you. It would be a great introduction to the sport for me. Dang state of Minnesota...If we could just squish out the useless middle section....

Hey, I encountered some wildlife on my nightfall bike ride and thought of you. Gangs of baby bunnies constantly breaking counterclockwise to what appeared to be their intended path... One inch newborn frogs....stunned and dazed by the beam of my halogen NR light system...

I was kept alive by the mantra I was given just prior to my one and only time on an MX track: "Hold your line"!

(Totally kidding about holding your line with these critters. It was really much more a dodge and break situation.... But it did come in handy last summer as I ran over a 40 pound hedgehog on my LOOK bicycle. Heck, if I ever learn to ride my motorcycles like my bikes I'll be giving myself an atta girl.)

Anyway, I was chuckling thinking of you as I dodged all those little babies.

Looking forward to the rest of the report. How's your head feeling?
 
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#13
I wish they paid me...but it's a good time even if I'm the little one that gets thrown everywhere.

As for little bunnies...well, my cat just adopted one and is feeding it along with her litter of kittens. I'm thinking that she's fattening it up for later. The dad was making comments several days ago that he would probably end up running over it or something...

The dachshund (Peanut...okay "Peanut Butter Cooky" when the mom is very upset with her) my parents have is one of those sleeps all day and begs for food at all times...but when she gets excited, it lasts for an hour. Yes, those evil brown irresistable little eyes...they just about kill me.

Head's feeling great as long as I don't touch the side of my face...the shiner's fading into the yucky yellow green. When it was darker, no one noticed it at all...when I had my cabanaboy take me for a harley ride and supper, we got dirty looks everywhere.

Took us a while to figure out what people were frowning at. When he wears the sleeveless shirts, well some of the "manfuzz" sticks out around the edges, and he looks downright burly and almost mean. With my being small and cute in pretty much every condition, well...one lady went and asked if "everything was okay around the house"...


Uffta.
 
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#14
uffta. Indeed.

:(

I give them credit for caring about their fellow humans, Tolle. Very hard to walk that walk none the less. :(

Perhaps while you are on the mend you could redirect those glares by taking advantage of Cabana boy's natural attention grabbing style?

Have Cabana Boy don brightly colored clothing. Might I suggest a nice pink shirt, lime green chaps and matching vest? Compliment that with a nice yellow silk scarf to cover his burly neck whilst riding his Harley. Perhaps top it off with a sporty sombrero when off the bike?

Nobody will give you a glance with him rigged out properly. :laugh:

If he loves you, he'll do it for you. Tell him I said so. I'm old, so I know about these things. ;)
 
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#15
No words for how hard I am STILL laughing!

:rotfl: :rotfl: :rotfl: :rotfl: :)