| 1999 Race Reports |
September 12, 1999
Fosterburg, Illinois
3rd of 3 in Open B
The week before this race I fell hard at St. Joe State Park and bruised my ribs, so I
almost didn't race here at all. Matt wanted to go, so we drove out in my truck and I
figured I would do a recreational ride. Again, more dust. Matt got the early holeshot at
the start and I rode cautiously. After about 10 minutes he and the only other rider in
our class were out of my sight. The ribs loosened up after awhile, but I just couldn't
ride aggressively at all. A couple of times I started to get my groove on, but then I'd
bobble and have to slow down. During the last half hour of the race, rain appeared for
the first time in months. If it had just stopped at about ¼ inch, that would have been
perfect. Instead, it continued for the rest of the race. The last lap turned into survival,
and I was doing fine until a slippery uphill that I had to push the bike up. The summer
had been so dry that the trails were packed down, and when the rains came it was
like riding on frozen ground. When it gets wet and muddy like that, goggles don't work
very well. I took mine off, and about two minutes later one of the fast guys, Lee
Lankutis, squeezed around me and a bunch of mud shot off his back tire and went
into my eye. Lee is a good guy and even though I was cursing him at the time, no
damage was done and once the mud cleared from my eye I didn't care. I just wanted
to get the race over with.
I finished up and Matt was already done. He was a little depressed because he had
led the whole race until the rain came, and the other guy passed him. It continued to
rain for the rest of the afternoon, so once again it was a real pain trying to get changed
in my truck. Matt was having an especially difficult time changing in my little truck
because he's three inches taller and 50 pounds heavier than me.
September 19, 1999
Jonesboro, Illinois
2nd of 6 in Open B (trophy)
This was probably my best all-around ride of the year. These types of Illinois races
suit my riding style much better than Missouri because the woods are always tight. I
seem to race better under those more technical conditions where precision riding is
a must. The Southern Illinois club that put on the race uses a resort that owns some
ground adjacent to the Shawnee National Forest. Matt and I rode here for fun during
the summer, so I had an idea of what to expect. He came down to race and brought
his wife and kids, including his 6-year-old son. Matt bought him a KTM mini-bike a
few months before, and the little guy was putting around on it before the race.
The course was very dry, so apparently they did not get the rain that Fosterburg had
the previous weekend. I was there early and had a chance to walk some of the
course while the ATV's were doing their race. I helped a couple of guys up a huge,
steep hill that was causing everyone problems. There is nothing scarier that
watching someone lose traction and try to slide backwards down a hill on a
4-wheeler. However, helping those guys would end up being a big advantage during
the race because I knew the best way up the hill.
I got off to a decent start, entering the first turn in third place. I quickly passed one guy
in front of me but the leader started pulling away and I never caught him. The dust
either wasn't as bad, or maybe I was just getting used to it. The ribs were still a bit
sore, but I was able to ride aggressively for the whole race. I missed a turn on the
first lap and had to backtrack, and I was afraid I lost my position, so for the rest of the
race I was trying hard and riding pretty well. The big hill never gave me problems, but
on each lap there were guys hung up on the hillside. I never did crash, which for me
is some kind of miracle, especially since I was riding pretty hard. The hills were very
steep but the course was routed down most of them. Even so, a couple were just
plain scary. On the last lap I nudged the handlebar end into my sore ribs, but the pain
was only temporary.
Matt was already done when I got back to my truck. He and the family packed up right
away, and I stuck around to check our scores. He had some trouble with the steep
hill and ended up in last place, completing one less lap than me. I finished in second
place and was about 10 minutes behind the leader. During the trophy presentation
they had a fun time with my name. Most of the time they just butcher my last name
and move on to the next guy, but this time the presenter actually made an effort to
pronounce it correctly. Then he got the crowd involved, and they all started chanting
"Stich-noth...Stich-noth." It was a good day.
Damage Report: lost a radiator guard.
October 10, 1999
Festus, Missouri
7th of 9 in Open B
Another case of the bike that refused to start. The only thing more embarrassing than
kicking your bike over and over again while the rest of your group has already left, is
crashing in the first corner (and I've done that, too). After I finally got going, I
immediately found myself being strangled by my chest protector. It kept sliding back
against the front of my neck. I finally had to stop and discovered that I had failed to
latch two of the straps, so the thing was just flopping around. By that time I was so far
behind everyone else in my class that I knew it wouldn't be a real successful day. The
lowlight had to be the minibike that passed me on the second lap. You never feel so
slow as when a 13-year-old blows by your 300cc bike on his 80cc minibike.
The course was really fun, though. They had a pasture where someone had made a
great little grass motocross track with some good jumps. Another section was about
a mile of a wide, flat trail in the woods where you could just fly in 5th gear.
Before the race, while standing in line to sign up for the race, I saw another reason
why the ATV's scare the hell out of me. The course ran through the spectator's area
and crossed a shallow gully. The fast guys were just hammering through it, and
some of the slow guys were trying the same thing with mixed results. I suddenly
heard a scream and looked over to the area of the gully. An ATV had crossed the gully
and was continuing down the trail without its driver. Actually, the guy was still with his
ATV, except he was under it and being pulled along the ground! It stunned him for
awhile, but later he walked away from it.
Fosterburg, Illinois
3rd of 3 in Open B
The week before this race I fell hard at St. Joe State Park and bruised my ribs, so I
almost didn't race here at all. Matt wanted to go, so we drove out in my truck and I
figured I would do a recreational ride. Again, more dust. Matt got the early holeshot at
the start and I rode cautiously. After about 10 minutes he and the only other rider in
our class were out of my sight. The ribs loosened up after awhile, but I just couldn't
ride aggressively at all. A couple of times I started to get my groove on, but then I'd
bobble and have to slow down. During the last half hour of the race, rain appeared for
the first time in months. If it had just stopped at about ¼ inch, that would have been
perfect. Instead, it continued for the rest of the race. The last lap turned into survival,
and I was doing fine until a slippery uphill that I had to push the bike up. The summer
had been so dry that the trails were packed down, and when the rains came it was
like riding on frozen ground. When it gets wet and muddy like that, goggles don't work
very well. I took mine off, and about two minutes later one of the fast guys, Lee
Lankutis, squeezed around me and a bunch of mud shot off his back tire and went
into my eye. Lee is a good guy and even though I was cursing him at the time, no
damage was done and once the mud cleared from my eye I didn't care. I just wanted
to get the race over with.
I finished up and Matt was already done. He was a little depressed because he had
led the whole race until the rain came, and the other guy passed him. It continued to
rain for the rest of the afternoon, so once again it was a real pain trying to get changed
in my truck. Matt was having an especially difficult time changing in my little truck
because he's three inches taller and 50 pounds heavier than me.
September 19, 1999
Jonesboro, Illinois
2nd of 6 in Open B (trophy)
This was probably my best all-around ride of the year. These types of Illinois races
suit my riding style much better than Missouri because the woods are always tight. I
seem to race better under those more technical conditions where precision riding is
a must. The Southern Illinois club that put on the race uses a resort that owns some
ground adjacent to the Shawnee National Forest. Matt and I rode here for fun during
the summer, so I had an idea of what to expect. He came down to race and brought
his wife and kids, including his 6-year-old son. Matt bought him a KTM mini-bike a
few months before, and the little guy was putting around on it before the race.
The course was very dry, so apparently they did not get the rain that Fosterburg had
the previous weekend. I was there early and had a chance to walk some of the
course while the ATV's were doing their race. I helped a couple of guys up a huge,
steep hill that was causing everyone problems. There is nothing scarier that
watching someone lose traction and try to slide backwards down a hill on a
4-wheeler. However, helping those guys would end up being a big advantage during
the race because I knew the best way up the hill.
I got off to a decent start, entering the first turn in third place. I quickly passed one guy
in front of me but the leader started pulling away and I never caught him. The dust
either wasn't as bad, or maybe I was just getting used to it. The ribs were still a bit
sore, but I was able to ride aggressively for the whole race. I missed a turn on the
first lap and had to backtrack, and I was afraid I lost my position, so for the rest of the
race I was trying hard and riding pretty well. The big hill never gave me problems, but
on each lap there were guys hung up on the hillside. I never did crash, which for me
is some kind of miracle, especially since I was riding pretty hard. The hills were very
steep but the course was routed down most of them. Even so, a couple were just
plain scary. On the last lap I nudged the handlebar end into my sore ribs, but the pain
was only temporary.
Matt was already done when I got back to my truck. He and the family packed up right
away, and I stuck around to check our scores. He had some trouble with the steep
hill and ended up in last place, completing one less lap than me. I finished in second
place and was about 10 minutes behind the leader. During the trophy presentation
they had a fun time with my name. Most of the time they just butcher my last name
and move on to the next guy, but this time the presenter actually made an effort to
pronounce it correctly. Then he got the crowd involved, and they all started chanting
"Stich-noth...Stich-noth." It was a good day.
Damage Report: lost a radiator guard.
October 10, 1999
Festus, Missouri
7th of 9 in Open B
Another case of the bike that refused to start. The only thing more embarrassing than
kicking your bike over and over again while the rest of your group has already left, is
crashing in the first corner (and I've done that, too). After I finally got going, I
immediately found myself being strangled by my chest protector. It kept sliding back
against the front of my neck. I finally had to stop and discovered that I had failed to
latch two of the straps, so the thing was just flopping around. By that time I was so far
behind everyone else in my class that I knew it wouldn't be a real successful day. The
lowlight had to be the minibike that passed me on the second lap. You never feel so
slow as when a 13-year-old blows by your 300cc bike on his 80cc minibike.
The course was really fun, though. They had a pasture where someone had made a
great little grass motocross track with some good jumps. Another section was about
a mile of a wide, flat trail in the woods where you could just fly in 5th gear.
Before the race, while standing in line to sign up for the race, I saw another reason
why the ATV's scare the hell out of me. The course ran through the spectator's area
and crossed a shallow gully. The fast guys were just hammering through it, and
some of the slow guys were trying the same thing with mixed results. I suddenly
heard a scream and looked over to the area of the gully. An ATV had crossed the gully
and was continuing down the trail without its driver. Actually, the guy was still with his
ATV, except he was under it and being pulled along the ground! It stunned him for
awhile, but later he walked away from it.
Fosterburg, Illinois
Jonesboro, Illinois
Festus, Missouri
Jonesboro, Illinois
Festus, Missouri
 |  |  |