craig_enid
Member
- Mar 23, 2000
- 872
- 0
Pulled into the new campground around 10 PM, Saturday night. Coughed up the $5 parking fee and found Justql's truck and tent. Pitched my tent and crawled into the bag for the usual pre-race all night toss and turn.
Palm Sunday morning was cloudy and cool. Justql and I went with a shirt under the jersey. Gassed the bikes, got the computers set and made it to the riders meeting. At one point, as we were being told about the remote location of the main gas stop, it was said- 'once you leave camp, you're never coming back...'. That brought more than a few chuckles and comments.
The start this year was across a newly installed flatbed bridge. Would have been real ugly about row 2, without it. Wound up the hill/mountain and on to the rest of the course of rocks, mud, roots, uphills, downhills, and very little time to enjoy the area. Some races are memorable due to the great traction and fast trail. Not this one. If this was your first enduro, sorry...
This was a survival mode race, start to finish. Keeping in mind I'm a middle of the pack 'C' rider. The enjoyment for me was after the race, the sense of finishing a difficult task.
The bulk of the trail was rock infested muddy trail. All the puddles had bottoms, and I found the quickest route was following the main trail, splashing throught the mud holes. The alternate lines around the mud holes pretty much all involved extra turns over muddy rocks and roots that the main trail didn't have.
Fairly early on, we came upon a downed rider. He was in pain and three riders had stopped and were helping him out. Overheard after the race about someone with a broken shoulder, figured that was him. That does weigh upon your mind when you see that.
Had one creek crossing that imediatly took a steep uphill. As I pulled up to the creek, three bikes were struggling up the other side. Screaming motors slipping clutches and no clear lines gave us a pause. A couple of riders pulled in front of us. When a clear line was made, they were off. One made it, the other became an obstacle. The next clearing of the uphill, the rider ahead of me takes off. He makes it up the first steep section, then gets kicked right and has to shut it down. As he pulles his bike to set up his next try, he openes up a line up the left side. Not giving myself time to chicken out, I made a run at the left line. Make it just past the stalled bike, and get kicked right like he did. Luckily it was onto a less steep, but still rocky section. As the bike kickes, I hop off to the left and do the push-sprint next to the bike the rest of the way up the hill. Takes about a mile of trail to get my breath back, and lose the puke in the helmet feeling. Then it's back on the pegs, and bump the speed up.
At the main gas, had a near death experience. The club had given us alot of time to rest, gas, and get everyone back on time. I was still 10 minutes hot as I started putting up the forrest service road, looking for the start of the next section. I see a couple of bikes and a couple of vehicles around the next bend in the road. I pull over to the right to double check the group and about get run over by a guy going WFO down the road. He clips my right bar, and ends up fighting to keep it upright crashing through the brush and rocks on the side of the road. He was probably going 30-35 when he went by me. He makes it around the corner and I lose sight of him. I reached for the front brake, the lever is gone. I'm a little dazed, and vasilating between wanting to appologize to the guy, or kick his a$$. I end up feeling lucky to escape a season or career ending accident, and send a prayer of thanks to all my guardian angels. I end the race without a front brake, a constant reminder that I could be 'enjoying' a ride to some emergency medical facility. Added a few minutes to my score, but it's a trade I'll make, anyday.
I wouldn't say it was a 'fun' race, but it was a satisfying one.
Palm Sunday morning was cloudy and cool. Justql and I went with a shirt under the jersey. Gassed the bikes, got the computers set and made it to the riders meeting. At one point, as we were being told about the remote location of the main gas stop, it was said- 'once you leave camp, you're never coming back...'. That brought more than a few chuckles and comments.
The start this year was across a newly installed flatbed bridge. Would have been real ugly about row 2, without it. Wound up the hill/mountain and on to the rest of the course of rocks, mud, roots, uphills, downhills, and very little time to enjoy the area. Some races are memorable due to the great traction and fast trail. Not this one. If this was your first enduro, sorry...
This was a survival mode race, start to finish. Keeping in mind I'm a middle of the pack 'C' rider. The enjoyment for me was after the race, the sense of finishing a difficult task.
The bulk of the trail was rock infested muddy trail. All the puddles had bottoms, and I found the quickest route was following the main trail, splashing throught the mud holes. The alternate lines around the mud holes pretty much all involved extra turns over muddy rocks and roots that the main trail didn't have.
Fairly early on, we came upon a downed rider. He was in pain and three riders had stopped and were helping him out. Overheard after the race about someone with a broken shoulder, figured that was him. That does weigh upon your mind when you see that.
Had one creek crossing that imediatly took a steep uphill. As I pulled up to the creek, three bikes were struggling up the other side. Screaming motors slipping clutches and no clear lines gave us a pause. A couple of riders pulled in front of us. When a clear line was made, they were off. One made it, the other became an obstacle. The next clearing of the uphill, the rider ahead of me takes off. He makes it up the first steep section, then gets kicked right and has to shut it down. As he pulles his bike to set up his next try, he openes up a line up the left side. Not giving myself time to chicken out, I made a run at the left line. Make it just past the stalled bike, and get kicked right like he did. Luckily it was onto a less steep, but still rocky section. As the bike kickes, I hop off to the left and do the push-sprint next to the bike the rest of the way up the hill. Takes about a mile of trail to get my breath back, and lose the puke in the helmet feeling. Then it's back on the pegs, and bump the speed up.
At the main gas, had a near death experience. The club had given us alot of time to rest, gas, and get everyone back on time. I was still 10 minutes hot as I started putting up the forrest service road, looking for the start of the next section. I see a couple of bikes and a couple of vehicles around the next bend in the road. I pull over to the right to double check the group and about get run over by a guy going WFO down the road. He clips my right bar, and ends up fighting to keep it upright crashing through the brush and rocks on the side of the road. He was probably going 30-35 when he went by me. He makes it around the corner and I lose sight of him. I reached for the front brake, the lever is gone. I'm a little dazed, and vasilating between wanting to appologize to the guy, or kick his a$$. I end up feeling lucky to escape a season or career ending accident, and send a prayer of thanks to all my guardian angels. I end the race without a front brake, a constant reminder that I could be 'enjoying' a ride to some emergency medical facility. Added a few minutes to my score, but it's a trade I'll make, anyday.
I wouldn't say it was a 'fun' race, but it was a satisfying one.
