| 2001 Race Reports |
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May 20, 2001
St. Joe State Park
Park Hills, Missouri
5th of 17 in B Class
Now that I've ridden the Leadbelt Enduro three times, the best way I can describe it is
like this: hook up a jackhammer to your ass, turn it on for 4-5 hours, and there you
have it. Despite the 80-mile bum-grind, I did have fun. The Blackjack Enduro series
changed the classes around this year so that there's no Open B class like the
previous two years. I competed with all the other B riders on the long course, which
meant no B-class cutoff before the end of the second loop.
At the signup, I was pleased to see that the club had accommodated my request to be
on row 10 or higher, with a 13th row start. Just enough riders ahead of me to clear
out some of the trail, but not too many to make it choppy on the first loop. As in years
past, the first 5 miles were basically a trail ride, with a 15 mph average. No reason to
lose any points on a 15 mph average, right? Sure, if you're a normal person, but this
is me we're talking about. Somehow I underestimated my speed, didn't look closely
enough at my roll chart, and ended up dropping a point at the first check. How do you
say Stooopid?? Just after the check, the trail came out at the far corner of the sand
flats, where I promptly followed several riders who went straight past the arrows
pointing us into the center of the flats. After riding a quarter-mile with no sign of an
arrow, we all realized our mistake and backtracked. Fortunately, the next couple of
miles were open, fast sand trails and the speed average was only 18 mph. By the
time we entered the woods again, I was back on time. Just before the gas stop at
16.3 miles, the speed average went up to 24 mph and I dropped two points at the
check coming out to the gas area. We kept our 24 mph average for awhile before
dropping back to 18 mph, then back up to 24 mph for the last 8 miles of the loop. The
trails wandered through the public area of St. Joe for about half of the loop and then
went off to the normally off-limits area that only gets ridden a couple of times a year for
races. Some of the singletrack was 4th and 5th gear stuff. Totally cool going that fast
in the woods. Picture it...moist trail, just enough traction but not much mud, blazing
along in 3rd gear, trees of all shapes and sizes whizzing by, constant directional
changes, the occasional softball-sized rock adding a little excitement, the feeling of
wanting to kiss the steering damper for all the times during the last mile that it saved
my ass, the smack of barkbuster against a tree that got a little too close, a wheelie
over a shallow gully, a perfect 6-inch berm around a tight 90-degree corner, dump the
clutch and give'er hell to the next corner. Nothing does justice to the experience
except getting out and riding as fast as you dare. And the Leadbelt Enduro has a little
of everything except rocks, which are in nearly infinite supply.
Near the end of the loop, I noticed a photographer near the trail and assumed he
might be the same guy who took pictures at last year's enduro and the Columbia hare
scramble. Later in the year, a set of proofs had arrived in the mail with two pictures:
one of me standing up and looking aggressive in a fast, open section of the 2000
LeadBelt enduro, and the other of me with my butt firmly planted on the seat during
the Columbia hare scramble, looking like I was coasting back to my truck to refresh
myself with a cool beverage. Guess which picture I chose to purchase? Since I didn't
want to see another shot of me sitting on my ass, I was motivated to stand up and
look aggressive just before the flash went off (check it out).
For the first loop I dropped 15 points and had about 15 minutes to regroup and start
the second loop. Somehow those 15 minutes passed way too quickly, even though
all I did was put in some gas, clean my goggles, eat a granola bar, and add ice cubes
to my CamelBak. As I rode out to the sand flats to start the loop, I noticed that I had
not reset my odometer back to zero, as instructed by the route sheet. Should take just
a few seconds, right? Wrong. I had to turn that darned knob backwards for what
seemed like an eternity. In an enduro, two minutes can be just that long, and with a
cramped left hand I began the final 40 miles. Fortunately the first loop check at just
short of 5 miles was not there on loop #2, so I was able to make up some time in the
sand flats. One of my row-mates, fast guy Mike (or is it Jeremy?) Havens, was parked
along the flats letting some time pass, probably wondering what took me so long. I
followed him for the next few miles, but he left me out of sight when the speed
average increased to 24 mph. After the gas stop at 16.3 miles, it was a race to the
finish with a 24 mph average the rest of the way. No major events over the next 23
miles, just lots of trail in perfect condition. I began to feel a bit tired about the time I
entered the last check, but my race was over. The bike held up perfectly during the
longest race I had ever completed. The only time I rode more miles in one day might
have been in Michigan in 1994.
I felt good about my score of 40, but another guy who also scored 40 beat me on
tiebreakers. Had I not lost a point at the first check, I would have finished in 4th place
but had to settle for 5th. It was a fun day.
June 3, 2001
Florence, Missouri
Race Cancelled
I had a choice. I could have driven one hour to White City, Illinois and raced in what
surely must have been a mud bath rivaling last year's June hare scramble. Instead I
chose Florence, 180 miles from my home but located amongst the rock quarry I like to
call Missouri. Man, I'm turning into a mud wimp. The Yahoo! weather forecast
showed a chance of rain, but that didn't stop me from failing to pack any rain gear or
even a jacket. Morning temperatures don't often dip into the 50's during June in St.
Louis, so my long sleeve shirt should have been enough.
At 6:30 a.m. I left my garage and headed for Wentzville to pick up Matt, who had his
shiny new Dodge full-size truck parked in the drive. He is now a 3-automobile family,
so they are sufficiently prepared for 8 years from now, when Michael can drive himself
to the motocross track. We loaded up my truck and began the long drive. At Boonville
the rains began, moderate but steady. We arrived at the race site, 45 miles later, and
the rain had still not let up. After a half-hour of shivering under the concession stand
awning, we signed up to race and searched for Pizza Man's trailer. By now it was
10:30, the ATV's had finished their race, and the rain showed no sign of ending in the
near future. Pizza Man let us hang with him under their pop-up awning while the rain
continued. He offered us sandwiches from Shakespeare's Pizza that were
conveniently wrapped in cellophane, courtesy of the sorority girls on his payroll, who
had been reluctant to accept his offer for "a raise" until learning that all they had to do
was make a few sandwiches for the race. Come on, girls...he's a family man for
Christ's sake. Me, on the other hand....
At 11:30, the rain was still steady and had not let up for about 3 hours. We had
already decided that a practice lap was out of the question but it was time to get
dressed to ride. At 12:00 I warmed up the bike with a few short sprints around the
starting area, which was just enough time to get completely muddy and soaked.
Every low spot was covered with water, the ground completely saturated. At 12:30 a
guy came around and announced that the race was called off and we were to go back
to the signup area and get our money back. Matt and I lined up in the rain and waited
for about 15 minutes, got back our $20 and decided that as long as we were dressed
to ride, we might as well do a loop around the course. The word around the staging
area was that one of the creeks had risen to waist-level and the current was swift, so
it was a safety issue that caused a premature end to our day. We figured we would
go as far as we could, but that ended up being not much more than a mile. Where the
trail came to the edge of the staging area, a guy pointed us back to the parking lot.
End of the ride.
By this time we were cold, wet, and muddy, after riding a total of about 10 minutes.
After a change into semi-dry clothes, we packed up and drove home. The rain ended
at about 1:00, just as we pulled out of the parking lot. Should have ridden White City,
dammit.
St. Joe State Park
Park Hills, Missouri
5th of 17 in B Class
Now that I've ridden the Leadbelt Enduro three times, the best way I can describe it is
like this: hook up a jackhammer to your ass, turn it on for 4-5 hours, and there you
have it. Despite the 80-mile bum-grind, I did have fun. The Blackjack Enduro series
changed the classes around this year so that there's no Open B class like the
previous two years. I competed with all the other B riders on the long course, which
meant no B-class cutoff before the end of the second loop.
At the signup, I was pleased to see that the club had accommodated my request to be
on row 10 or higher, with a 13th row start. Just enough riders ahead of me to clear
out some of the trail, but not too many to make it choppy on the first loop. As in years
past, the first 5 miles were basically a trail ride, with a 15 mph average. No reason to
lose any points on a 15 mph average, right? Sure, if you're a normal person, but this
is me we're talking about. Somehow I underestimated my speed, didn't look closely
enough at my roll chart, and ended up dropping a point at the first check. How do you
say Stooopid?? Just after the check, the trail came out at the far corner of the sand
flats, where I promptly followed several riders who went straight past the arrows
pointing us into the center of the flats. After riding a quarter-mile with no sign of an
arrow, we all realized our mistake and backtracked. Fortunately, the next couple of
miles were open, fast sand trails and the speed average was only 18 mph. By the
time we entered the woods again, I was back on time. Just before the gas stop at
16.3 miles, the speed average went up to 24 mph and I dropped two points at the
check coming out to the gas area. We kept our 24 mph average for awhile before
dropping back to 18 mph, then back up to 24 mph for the last 8 miles of the loop. The
trails wandered through the public area of St. Joe for about half of the loop and then
went off to the normally off-limits area that only gets ridden a couple of times a year for
races. Some of the singletrack was 4th and 5th gear stuff. Totally cool going that fast
in the woods. Picture it...moist trail, just enough traction but not much mud, blazing
along in 3rd gear, trees of all shapes and sizes whizzing by, constant directional
changes, the occasional softball-sized rock adding a little excitement, the feeling of
wanting to kiss the steering damper for all the times during the last mile that it saved
my ass, the smack of barkbuster against a tree that got a little too close, a wheelie
over a shallow gully, a perfect 6-inch berm around a tight 90-degree corner, dump the
clutch and give'er hell to the next corner. Nothing does justice to the experience
except getting out and riding as fast as you dare. And the Leadbelt Enduro has a little
of everything except rocks, which are in nearly infinite supply.
Near the end of the loop, I noticed a photographer near the trail and assumed he
might be the same guy who took pictures at last year's enduro and the Columbia hare
scramble. Later in the year, a set of proofs had arrived in the mail with two pictures:
one of me standing up and looking aggressive in a fast, open section of the 2000
LeadBelt enduro, and the other of me with my butt firmly planted on the seat during
the Columbia hare scramble, looking like I was coasting back to my truck to refresh
myself with a cool beverage. Guess which picture I chose to purchase? Since I didn't
want to see another shot of me sitting on my ass, I was motivated to stand up and
look aggressive just before the flash went off (check it out).
For the first loop I dropped 15 points and had about 15 minutes to regroup and start
the second loop. Somehow those 15 minutes passed way too quickly, even though
all I did was put in some gas, clean my goggles, eat a granola bar, and add ice cubes
to my CamelBak. As I rode out to the sand flats to start the loop, I noticed that I had
not reset my odometer back to zero, as instructed by the route sheet. Should take just
a few seconds, right? Wrong. I had to turn that darned knob backwards for what
seemed like an eternity. In an enduro, two minutes can be just that long, and with a
cramped left hand I began the final 40 miles. Fortunately the first loop check at just
short of 5 miles was not there on loop #2, so I was able to make up some time in the
sand flats. One of my row-mates, fast guy Mike (or is it Jeremy?) Havens, was parked
along the flats letting some time pass, probably wondering what took me so long. I
followed him for the next few miles, but he left me out of sight when the speed
average increased to 24 mph. After the gas stop at 16.3 miles, it was a race to the
finish with a 24 mph average the rest of the way. No major events over the next 23
miles, just lots of trail in perfect condition. I began to feel a bit tired about the time I
entered the last check, but my race was over. The bike held up perfectly during the
longest race I had ever completed. The only time I rode more miles in one day might
have been in Michigan in 1994.
I felt good about my score of 40, but another guy who also scored 40 beat me on
tiebreakers. Had I not lost a point at the first check, I would have finished in 4th place
but had to settle for 5th. It was a fun day.
June 3, 2001
Florence, Missouri
Race Cancelled
I had a choice. I could have driven one hour to White City, Illinois and raced in what
surely must have been a mud bath rivaling last year's June hare scramble. Instead I
chose Florence, 180 miles from my home but located amongst the rock quarry I like to
call Missouri. Man, I'm turning into a mud wimp. The Yahoo! weather forecast
showed a chance of rain, but that didn't stop me from failing to pack any rain gear or
even a jacket. Morning temperatures don't often dip into the 50's during June in St.
Louis, so my long sleeve shirt should have been enough.
At 6:30 a.m. I left my garage and headed for Wentzville to pick up Matt, who had his
shiny new Dodge full-size truck parked in the drive. He is now a 3-automobile family,
so they are sufficiently prepared for 8 years from now, when Michael can drive himself
to the motocross track. We loaded up my truck and began the long drive. At Boonville
the rains began, moderate but steady. We arrived at the race site, 45 miles later, and
the rain had still not let up. After a half-hour of shivering under the concession stand
awning, we signed up to race and searched for Pizza Man's trailer. By now it was
10:30, the ATV's had finished their race, and the rain showed no sign of ending in the
near future. Pizza Man let us hang with him under their pop-up awning while the rain
continued. He offered us sandwiches from Shakespeare's Pizza that were
conveniently wrapped in cellophane, courtesy of the sorority girls on his payroll, who
had been reluctant to accept his offer for "a raise" until learning that all they had to do
was make a few sandwiches for the race. Come on, girls...he's a family man for
Christ's sake. Me, on the other hand....
At 11:30, the rain was still steady and had not let up for about 3 hours. We had
already decided that a practice lap was out of the question but it was time to get
dressed to ride. At 12:00 I warmed up the bike with a few short sprints around the
starting area, which was just enough time to get completely muddy and soaked.
Every low spot was covered with water, the ground completely saturated. At 12:30 a
guy came around and announced that the race was called off and we were to go back
to the signup area and get our money back. Matt and I lined up in the rain and waited
for about 15 minutes, got back our $20 and decided that as long as we were dressed
to ride, we might as well do a loop around the course. The word around the staging
area was that one of the creeks had risen to waist-level and the current was swift, so
it was a safety issue that caused a premature end to our day. We figured we would
go as far as we could, but that ended up being not much more than a mile. Where the
trail came to the edge of the staging area, a guy pointed us back to the parking lot.
End of the ride.
By this time we were cold, wet, and muddy, after riding a total of about 10 minutes.
After a change into semi-dry clothes, we packed up and drove home. The rain ended
at about 1:00, just as we pulled out of the parking lot. Should have ridden White City,
dammit.
Park Hills, Missouri
Florence, Missouri
Florence, Missouri
