OK guys: where's the reports? Here is mine from last year (couldn't make it this time); give us one for this year:
We arrived in our usual mid-afternoon lateness, & gave it a good shot, thinking to join in on the kid’s race. Hmmm: no Thumbs in sight. And oddly, we found Holeshot’s car parked yet still running, A/C & all, but he - nowhere in sight. Once finding a fine spot to park, extrashorty (hereafter: ES) took care of signup for the three of us while Jr. & I unload the pickem’up. And yes, his car was still running.
Holeshot eventually came around (he was at sign up) to get ready to join up with us. But before we departed for the starting line, I noticed ES’ 80 seemed to be lean on the main. Pulling the carb apart in haste (makes waste!) led to one mishap after an other as you will soon read. The largest main was already in! A subsequent quick reassemble proved disaterous – it wouldn’t even start. Tipping it over revealed no gas flow, yanking the gas-tank-to-carb hose proved upstream was clear, so off with the float bowl again.
Yep, the floats were tweaked in the mad rush; straightening the best I could by eye – thanks for the added angle-view provided by Holeshot - the most time-saving approach as all the kid’s race entrants were well gone. It started up well, and ran better than ever was the report from the mini-pilot ES.
The man at the kid’s start was kind enough to let him start, now 20-minutes after the last departure; heck, there were some finishing their 1st loops when he stepped up to the plate.
Holeshot, placelast Jr., and your's truly followed ES around the loop, several miles each. I’m surprised they had the kids do two wicked granite down hills. I wondered what they plan for the adults on the morrow?
Holeshot checked his mileage against mine for tomorrow’s event, and Jr. loosened up his limbs for the same. Me? I’m beginning to feel like a creaky old man - got to get out more often.
ES ended up getting 8th out of 9. Not particularly well, but who cares; he’s got a lot of growing up to do, and speed/precision will come in time. He seemed to enjoy the ride, which is the most important thing now.
As dinner was cooking, I started programming the speed changes and resets on my laptop, for later uploading into my Pacemaker enduro computer. Just think: last June we were here, and had 3x as many resets & speed changes. What a difference a few months make, let alone event bosses.
Thumbs showed up later in the afternoon; set up camp nearby; The Eel & CPTJack well into the evening after the campfire was burning hot and the stars were out – someone said something about Eel’s navigation skills well after we shared each other’s dinners – hay, a DRN potluck! And the last thing I remember hearing as I lay my head down that night was a “oowwww nooooowww” again and again coming from Team Knucklehead’s campsite: a line they picked up from some movie I suppose…then at 2am, and again (and again later) “POP! FOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooo…………as the furnace of the closest motorhome came on during the wee hours of the night. Again, and again. It really wasn’t that cold, either; we used summer sleeping bags.
5am came readily; I laid there ‘til 6, then can’t take it anymore (dig that daylight savings, eh?) First thing I did was get b’fast going, artery-clogging fried eggs & pan-fried toast. Yummy!
I fire up my enduro computer, and the dang thing doesn’t get beyond startup. Am I toast? Woe is me; it may be stopwatch, roll chart and odo backup days again.
I pull the batteries to force a reset - no good: same scenario, over & over. Jr. suggests reading the manual – uh, dad! 2nd to the last paragraph, on the back cover “simply hold the X and O buttons to bypass.” Phew!
After filling the drink system, synchronizing key time with the master clock, and the riders’ meeting, it’s off to the starting line. The start worker tells me novices go 2 loops plus; apparently in the excitement, Holeshot missed the message (sorry, dude – don’t let it get ya down). Jr. had already left since he signed up on the minute before me so I could keep an eye out for him throughout some of the race.
I don’t remember much of the loop, but I’ll do the best I can to represent it there.
Our row is signaled off, and off we went, following the first mile of the kid’s loop. We then cross a graded road perpendicular (stay tuned: more on this later), weave around/between Stonehenge-sized and upright rocks - good place for a check, but not ‘til the second loop.
After Stonehenge, across a flat desert, then down into a wash – just wide enough for a bike, with very little wiggle room to spare. Big Fun! I remember getting stopped behind a WR4XX rider there, since he stalled it & subsequently needed much kicking to fire up again. Then we came up and backtracked on the ledge, back down into it again, and zigzagged out. The real challenge here was the great traction on the lava/concrete-like surface vs. the sand washed thru from winter storms made interesting throttle control practice - an on-off situation. More than a few riders laid it over, stalled, got crossed up here. Once out and back up on the opposite ledge again was a check (on the 2nd loop), closing a fairly demanding special test section – one can only go so fast when space between the rocks is slightly wider than the handlebar. On the second loop, a photo crew was perched here.
The next section was flat, and then an uplifted, small hill presented a fine place for another possible check. The check was there, but one had to descend quickly, thru a strewing of small rocks to the bottom for scoring. A following flat area was another Stonehenge-like rock cropping, where a check was to be on the second loop. And yes, I did stop a mile or so beforehand to water the desert via unraveling the lily – sorry not to wave as you all passed by. It was near here where a KTM rider not only passed me, but pi$$ed me off well when he cut back in barely inches ahead of my front tire; I though we would kiss knobs. Man, where has courtesy gone? Looked like a new guy; sure acted that way.
Then the second check of the 1st loop – where the score-er was hiding behind the upright rock - before a hairpin RH turn up a sand wash, up a loose climb, then back down and through a rocky, trials-like section. Dang it: that KTM rider did it again, and just as close as last time – jerk – I’m gonna have a talk with him.
Now I don’t know why I ended up getting carrying the rear, becoming the caboose on a 6-member train; couldn’t pass if I wanted – not enough space, and too many left, right turns up & over, then down Rubicon-like solid rock. I was concerned about being late to yet another check, but was glad when we didn’t have one here. We rejoined the kid’s loop, obviously getting close to camp and ripe for another check as my computer was tooting away; WARNING, WARNING – possible check, 2/10ths…1/10th…and finally, the workers were at the bottom of this huge rock we had to go down, black rear tire marks on it’s entire face.
The next reset was at the end of the first loop/start of the second, but only 0.8 mi. – hardly worth a breath. Where’s Holeshot? Crossing the graded road again (pay attention reader: excitement comes next time ‘round!) yep! a check there @ Stonehenge. A 3 (miles, that is) for free wick-it-up thru the tight, rocky sand wash. This time thru it got a little snug: skinny me almost got wedged in. I caught up to Jr. here, but folled him off course. Dang. This pass revealed the well-stationed camera crew, but when I laid it over (yes, on it’s side) just beyond them, they were more concerned about the following rider to get my mishap on film. Oh well; I was the only one who saw it happen…
Having to pick up my bike took some strength, but not like the former layover (do ya think I’m about to tell ya of every crash?), before the aforementioned desert watering area. Before that there were these two kids, manning a check in the wide open. They are doing an admirable job, but the placement seemed off; 4 riders stopped 100 yards after, and were discussing amongst themselves my same thoughts.
OK, now for the third layover. Possibly where brett r met his fate of a broken clutch cover. One had to climb a large, flat but inclined rock, make a left, then right thru tank-high boulders on both sides. One spot required delicate balance, and I lost it there. Two others got by me as I picked it up. Now I’m getting tired. And I think I pulled a groin muscle here.
Fast forward to the old freight train area of the 1st loop, and I’m on my own. Strange. Except for a lone rider or two who let me by, one was on a CRF450 - nice: 1st one I’ve seen.
Again down the long, rubber-marked rock-faced downhill, but no check this time – one more before camp, though. In this area, there was a crowd gathered, cheering us on as we came thru. Hey, that’s how they do it at the ISDE.
Now at the end of the 2nd/start of the 3rd loop, for a 5.8-mi. reset/15 min. break. Well needed! Jr. pulls in, saying, “I’m spent, dad”. “You can pull out now, but the finish is up ahead”. “How much further?” he says, with reservation. “I don’t know. Not far, tho.” No holeshot in sight; I’m a little concerned at this point.
My time comes up, so I leave, and the one remaining fellow on my minute follows. His bellowing WR is irritating, therefore I make a move to get away. Now that turned out to be the wrong way to go about it.
OK: here’s that graded road crossing you’ve been waiting for. Remember I want to get away from this loud WR – so I wick it up in 4th, only ht the road in such a manner as to do a flying W, then a seat bounce, followed by a knee stand on the seat. I don’t know how I survived it, but now my groin muscle was really hurting. Several hundred yards later as we were wasting a few seconds before the next possible, my WR friend signaled me as if saying, “that was some save ya did there”. And it was, tho not by skill whatsoever.
The final check was thru the far end of the bar-wide rock and sand wash, which became increasingly difficult to navigate as I did not want to damage strain my groin further. That (the road-crossing goof up), plus the two layovers cost me 1st place. Ah, so close this time.
We arrived in our usual mid-afternoon lateness, & gave it a good shot, thinking to join in on the kid’s race. Hmmm: no Thumbs in sight. And oddly, we found Holeshot’s car parked yet still running, A/C & all, but he - nowhere in sight. Once finding a fine spot to park, extrashorty (hereafter: ES) took care of signup for the three of us while Jr. & I unload the pickem’up. And yes, his car was still running.
Holeshot eventually came around (he was at sign up) to get ready to join up with us. But before we departed for the starting line, I noticed ES’ 80 seemed to be lean on the main. Pulling the carb apart in haste (makes waste!) led to one mishap after an other as you will soon read. The largest main was already in! A subsequent quick reassemble proved disaterous – it wouldn’t even start. Tipping it over revealed no gas flow, yanking the gas-tank-to-carb hose proved upstream was clear, so off with the float bowl again.
Yep, the floats were tweaked in the mad rush; straightening the best I could by eye – thanks for the added angle-view provided by Holeshot - the most time-saving approach as all the kid’s race entrants were well gone. It started up well, and ran better than ever was the report from the mini-pilot ES.
The man at the kid’s start was kind enough to let him start, now 20-minutes after the last departure; heck, there were some finishing their 1st loops when he stepped up to the plate.
Holeshot, placelast Jr., and your's truly followed ES around the loop, several miles each. I’m surprised they had the kids do two wicked granite down hills. I wondered what they plan for the adults on the morrow?
Holeshot checked his mileage against mine for tomorrow’s event, and Jr. loosened up his limbs for the same. Me? I’m beginning to feel like a creaky old man - got to get out more often.
ES ended up getting 8th out of 9. Not particularly well, but who cares; he’s got a lot of growing up to do, and speed/precision will come in time. He seemed to enjoy the ride, which is the most important thing now.
As dinner was cooking, I started programming the speed changes and resets on my laptop, for later uploading into my Pacemaker enduro computer. Just think: last June we were here, and had 3x as many resets & speed changes. What a difference a few months make, let alone event bosses.
Thumbs showed up later in the afternoon; set up camp nearby; The Eel & CPTJack well into the evening after the campfire was burning hot and the stars were out – someone said something about Eel’s navigation skills well after we shared each other’s dinners – hay, a DRN potluck! And the last thing I remember hearing as I lay my head down that night was a “oowwww nooooowww” again and again coming from Team Knucklehead’s campsite: a line they picked up from some movie I suppose…then at 2am, and again (and again later) “POP! FOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooo…………as the furnace of the closest motorhome came on during the wee hours of the night. Again, and again. It really wasn’t that cold, either; we used summer sleeping bags.
5am came readily; I laid there ‘til 6, then can’t take it anymore (dig that daylight savings, eh?) First thing I did was get b’fast going, artery-clogging fried eggs & pan-fried toast. Yummy!
I fire up my enduro computer, and the dang thing doesn’t get beyond startup. Am I toast? Woe is me; it may be stopwatch, roll chart and odo backup days again.
I pull the batteries to force a reset - no good: same scenario, over & over. Jr. suggests reading the manual – uh, dad! 2nd to the last paragraph, on the back cover “simply hold the X and O buttons to bypass.” Phew!
After filling the drink system, synchronizing key time with the master clock, and the riders’ meeting, it’s off to the starting line. The start worker tells me novices go 2 loops plus; apparently in the excitement, Holeshot missed the message (sorry, dude – don’t let it get ya down). Jr. had already left since he signed up on the minute before me so I could keep an eye out for him throughout some of the race.
I don’t remember much of the loop, but I’ll do the best I can to represent it there.
Our row is signaled off, and off we went, following the first mile of the kid’s loop. We then cross a graded road perpendicular (stay tuned: more on this later), weave around/between Stonehenge-sized and upright rocks - good place for a check, but not ‘til the second loop.
After Stonehenge, across a flat desert, then down into a wash – just wide enough for a bike, with very little wiggle room to spare. Big Fun! I remember getting stopped behind a WR4XX rider there, since he stalled it & subsequently needed much kicking to fire up again. Then we came up and backtracked on the ledge, back down into it again, and zigzagged out. The real challenge here was the great traction on the lava/concrete-like surface vs. the sand washed thru from winter storms made interesting throttle control practice - an on-off situation. More than a few riders laid it over, stalled, got crossed up here. Once out and back up on the opposite ledge again was a check (on the 2nd loop), closing a fairly demanding special test section – one can only go so fast when space between the rocks is slightly wider than the handlebar. On the second loop, a photo crew was perched here.
The next section was flat, and then an uplifted, small hill presented a fine place for another possible check. The check was there, but one had to descend quickly, thru a strewing of small rocks to the bottom for scoring. A following flat area was another Stonehenge-like rock cropping, where a check was to be on the second loop. And yes, I did stop a mile or so beforehand to water the desert via unraveling the lily – sorry not to wave as you all passed by. It was near here where a KTM rider not only passed me, but pi$$ed me off well when he cut back in barely inches ahead of my front tire; I though we would kiss knobs. Man, where has courtesy gone? Looked like a new guy; sure acted that way.
Then the second check of the 1st loop – where the score-er was hiding behind the upright rock - before a hairpin RH turn up a sand wash, up a loose climb, then back down and through a rocky, trials-like section. Dang it: that KTM rider did it again, and just as close as last time – jerk – I’m gonna have a talk with him.
Now I don’t know why I ended up getting carrying the rear, becoming the caboose on a 6-member train; couldn’t pass if I wanted – not enough space, and too many left, right turns up & over, then down Rubicon-like solid rock. I was concerned about being late to yet another check, but was glad when we didn’t have one here. We rejoined the kid’s loop, obviously getting close to camp and ripe for another check as my computer was tooting away; WARNING, WARNING – possible check, 2/10ths…1/10th…and finally, the workers were at the bottom of this huge rock we had to go down, black rear tire marks on it’s entire face.
The next reset was at the end of the first loop/start of the second, but only 0.8 mi. – hardly worth a breath. Where’s Holeshot? Crossing the graded road again (pay attention reader: excitement comes next time ‘round!) yep! a check there @ Stonehenge. A 3 (miles, that is) for free wick-it-up thru the tight, rocky sand wash. This time thru it got a little snug: skinny me almost got wedged in. I caught up to Jr. here, but folled him off course. Dang. This pass revealed the well-stationed camera crew, but when I laid it over (yes, on it’s side) just beyond them, they were more concerned about the following rider to get my mishap on film. Oh well; I was the only one who saw it happen…
Having to pick up my bike took some strength, but not like the former layover (do ya think I’m about to tell ya of every crash?), before the aforementioned desert watering area. Before that there were these two kids, manning a check in the wide open. They are doing an admirable job, but the placement seemed off; 4 riders stopped 100 yards after, and were discussing amongst themselves my same thoughts.
OK, now for the third layover. Possibly where brett r met his fate of a broken clutch cover. One had to climb a large, flat but inclined rock, make a left, then right thru tank-high boulders on both sides. One spot required delicate balance, and I lost it there. Two others got by me as I picked it up. Now I’m getting tired. And I think I pulled a groin muscle here.
Fast forward to the old freight train area of the 1st loop, and I’m on my own. Strange. Except for a lone rider or two who let me by, one was on a CRF450 - nice: 1st one I’ve seen.
Again down the long, rubber-marked rock-faced downhill, but no check this time – one more before camp, though. In this area, there was a crowd gathered, cheering us on as we came thru. Hey, that’s how they do it at the ISDE.
Now at the end of the 2nd/start of the 3rd loop, for a 5.8-mi. reset/15 min. break. Well needed! Jr. pulls in, saying, “I’m spent, dad”. “You can pull out now, but the finish is up ahead”. “How much further?” he says, with reservation. “I don’t know. Not far, tho.” No holeshot in sight; I’m a little concerned at this point.
My time comes up, so I leave, and the one remaining fellow on my minute follows. His bellowing WR is irritating, therefore I make a move to get away. Now that turned out to be the wrong way to go about it.
OK: here’s that graded road crossing you’ve been waiting for. Remember I want to get away from this loud WR – so I wick it up in 4th, only ht the road in such a manner as to do a flying W, then a seat bounce, followed by a knee stand on the seat. I don’t know how I survived it, but now my groin muscle was really hurting. Several hundred yards later as we were wasting a few seconds before the next possible, my WR friend signaled me as if saying, “that was some save ya did there”. And it was, tho not by skill whatsoever.
The final check was thru the far end of the bar-wide rock and sand wash, which became increasingly difficult to navigate as I did not want to damage strain my groin further. That (the road-crossing goof up), plus the two layovers cost me 1st place. Ah, so close this time.
