| 2002 Race Reports |
July 28, 2002
Florence, Missouri
1st of 10 in Open B
Florence was the site of last year's rainout, and since I didn't attend the race on its
make-up date, this year was my first look at the full course. Sometimes you can tell
how the race is going to be just by driving into the staging area. The gravel road
leading into the place was rough, very rocky and dusty. As it turned out, so was the
course.
But what a difference a year makes. Instead of raining the entire morning, we had
drought conditions and temperatures in the 90's. Matt and I took a quick look at the
course as the ATV's were racing, and around every corner they had scraped off the top
surface and left a small berm of fine powder. Dust was everywhere. The course
passed by the pit area in a quarter-mile straight, wide open. The ATV's were flying
through there so fast that I could feel them coming.
The first part of the course was laid out similar to last year, except where there had
been rushing streams of floodwater, only dry creeks and gullies remained. A mile or
so into the practice lap, the dusty trail left the staging area and we headed out to the
main creek. The dust subsided for a bit and the first creek crossing took us up a
short, steep bank that was slick and muddy. That 15 feet of mud was all we would
see in the 8-9 mile course. After that it was loose, gravelly terrain with some sections
surprisingly tight, considering that ATV's had been through there. I tried to go easy on
the practice lap and not wear down the tire with unnecessary wheel spin, but some of
the hills were tough to climb without getting aggressive. Near the end of the course
was a fast section down a dry creek bed, then through some standing water and back
towards the staging area. As we finished the last mile of the course, the trail led us
through an old cattle chute, then meandered back to the far end of the staging area,
and finally down the long WFO straightaway past the pits, around the old farmhouse
and to the scoring trailer (note to promoters: next year, please run us THROUGH the
old farmhouse, maybe up and down the stairs...actually dreamed about that once, it
was cool). The course was incredibly rough, thanks in part to the ATV's that
uncovered every rock on the trail. Between the heat, dust, and rocks, I was expecting
an average finish. A Newark-style course is where I usually do best, but the Florence
course wasn't anything close to that.
On the starting line, the Open B class was several rows behind the A and Double-A
riders. We watched the fast guys take off and kick up a huge cloud of dust, with the
guys in the back of the pack struggling to see much of anything. A stiff breeze cleared
out the dust quickly, but then another row would take off and bring back the dust cloud.
When our row finally took off, I got a decent start and came out of the first turn wide,
back wheel sliding out dangerously. I was in third place and Matt was just behind me
as we ate the leaders' dust for a half-mile or so. The lone Yamaha in our group of
KTM's took the lead, followed by a KTM and then me. When we came out into an open
pasture near the staging area, the KTM guy ahead of me went left and the trail went
straight. So I took over second place and set my sights on the Yamaha. I caught up
to him when he got hung up on the muddy creek bank, then followed him as he
struggled up a rocky hill and had trouble with some nasty tree roots. He finally let me
by and I took over the lead.
In a Missouri race, I can't recall ever leading my class, at least not knowingly. And
especially not at a nasty race like Florence. Now the pressure was on to maintain the
lead, which is a big advantage in the dust. I had a few miles of clean air before
catching up to riders in the other classes ahead of me. Each time, passing was a
struggle. In some of the open areas, the dust was thick enough that I had to back off
and let the dust clear before attempting a pass. I kept the lead for the first lap and
tried to maintain a decent pace over the second lap. Despite a couple of near
crashes, I kept it together but was starting to warm up from the heat. The only chance
to cool down was in the big creek that had some standing water, but even that didn't
help much. After lap two, I checked my watch and was less than an hour into the race,
so it was looking like I'd get five laps in total.
Lap three was more of the same. No major mistakes, but I had no idea how much of
a lead I still had. I kept pushing, banged my knuckles on a tree and splashed some
spectators in the creek. On lap four, I came up on a guy on a KTM who appeared to
be slower, so I tried the 'ole block pass technique in the woods and came out of the
corner literally bar-to-bar with the guy. It was a race to the next turn, dead even until I
braked late and forced my way by. Not sure where this new aggression is coming
from, but my apologies to what appeared to be the #30 bike of Adam Ashcroft in the
250B class (he got back around me quickly and finished a minute or two ahead of me
overall--justice served).
I kept up the pace on my fifth and final lap and was a couple miles from the end when
I came up on some course marshals riding ATV's on the trail. They stayed clear of
me, but their dust obscured the main rut through an opening in a fence, and I dropped
the bike in a gentle slide-out. When you're in the lead and don't know where the
second place guy is, strange things start to happen when you drop the bike. I was in
near-panic mode while picking up the bike, even more so when the bike didn't fire up
on the first kick. At that point my lead was about 6 minutes, but for all I knew it could
have been 6 seconds. I began to think of what a sick feeling it was going to be to give
up the lead in the last two miles of the race, after leading every lap up to that point.
The engine came to life on the second kick.
Total time lost: about 10 highly stressful seconds. Still in second gear, I dumped the
clutch and rode like hell to the finish a few minutes later. The results confirmed that I
had, indeed, achieved my first MHSC class win, almost exactly four years after my
initiation into the Missouri hare scrambles scene (Flat River, '98 March of Dimes) and
on a course that has traditionally been unkind to me. Brandon Forrester and Steve
Leivan continued their battle for the MHSC series, with Brandon taking the overall win
and Steve close behind. Last year's top Open B racers, Tracy Bauman (MHSC #137)
and David Taylor (MHSC #17), continued to rep-uh-zent in the A class, as Bauman
took the win at Florence and Taylor won the previous round at Tebbetts (and they were
each in the top 10 overall at both races). Nice job, guys.
August 11, 2002
Polo, Missouri
1st of 8 in Open B
The last part of the MHSC series takes me to the furthest reaches of the state, and
Polo is about the longest drive of the year. The highlight of the trip is crossing the
Missouri River at Lexington on a bridge so narrow that you could high-five oncoming
drivers without even extending your arm. From my house, it's just under 4 hours if you
can hold your bowels that long without stopping (Matt never can).
We pulled into the staging area and chose our customary spot next to the
port-a-potties. Wade Hall and the Shake's Pizza group were already there, minus
PizzaMan who had a different two-wheeled off-road activity to attend to that day. Polo
is a bike-only race, and the absence of ATV noise created a quiet, relaxed
atmosphere as we signed up. The weather was warm but not unbearably hot, and
the course looked very dry. We got started on the practice lap with Matt leading me
around the course until we got to a bottleneck at a short hill climb. The route to the top
was rocky and loose, but the main problem was a two-foot rock ledge at the top. I
didn't have much patience for waiting my turn, so I cut off to the right and took an
alternate route around several guys parked on the side of the hill. After that, I had
clean air. The trail was really nice and it didn't take long to get into a fast groove. Matt
was somewhere behind me as I came to the spot where I had crashed so hard last
year. This year, a check was placed in just about the same spot as my wipeout, so
that was one less area of concern. After I finished my practice lap, maybe it was the
confidence from my class win at Florence, or the quick pace from the practice lap, but
one thought burst into my mind: If I can get a good start and ride smart, I will do well
today. As it turned out, I was correct.
As we lined up for the start, our class size seemed a bit small, with only 8 guys racing
Open B. Some of the regulars, like PizzaMan, Ray Osia, and Matt Coffman were
no-shows, but overall attendance was about what you'd expect for the middle of
August. Brandon Forrester, in the hunt to end Steve Leivan's 8-year run as MHSC
champ, caught a bad break with a fouled plug just before the start. He was still
sorting it out as our class started, 5 minutes behind the AA's. I got off to a good start,
albeit a slightly scary one as a 4-stroke KTM leaned into me as we were heading for
the woods. It was basically a straight shot to the woods and I kept the gas on the
longest to take the holeshot, something I've never done before. After many, many
races of eating other guys' dust and mud on the first lap, I was happy to have a clean
path ahead of me. A couple miles later, I couldn't hear anyone behind me and I
started catching up to the dust of the guys in the classes ahead of me. The trail was
fairly tight, so passing was a challenge, but near the end of the first lap I had caught
up to most of the guys I was going to catch, and the air was clean.
The course was filled with flat chunks of rock, the kind we used as stepping stones
back home on the farm. On some of the hills, all I could hear besides my screaming
engine was the clinking of rocks, like clay pots bumping together. I saw a guy in the
Junior class launching his bike up one of those hills, just letting it fly on its own, but all
it did was flip backwards and fall back down the hill. The trail also had some rock
ledge drop-offs, which I was too tame to jump over. I just let the front wheel fall down,
carefully, figuring it was better to be safe than risk relinquishing my lead. Even when
the HammerDown video crew was filming at one of the drop-offs and I was tempted to
show off, I still played it safe.
On my second lap, I came out of the woods into the first open pasture section and
saw Matt standing beside his bike. I figured he broke something on his bike, shook
my head as if to say "What'd you do this time?" and kept on riding. When he was still
there on my third lap, I knew something must be wrong, but he was being helped by
200B rider Jeff Neathery, who had suffered a flat tire on his Gas Gas. By this time I
was gradually catching up to lapped riders, who were easy to spot from the dust left
behind.
Later in lap 3, my engine bogged a couple times on small jumps, which from past
experience suggested that I was running low on gas. On a tight course like Polo, I
shouldn't have been close to empty after only 90 minutes. On the fourth lap I backed
off a bit, trying to conserve fuel. I finally had to switch to reserve with about 10 minutes
left, but I finished without incident and took the victory.
The celebration was short-lived, as Matt was in pain back at the truck. In the open
field, he had drifted right and found some nasty ruts while braking before re-entering
the woods. The bike bucked him off and Matt took a nasty impact on his right side.
The EMT's were attending to him while I packed up our stuff and loaded the bikes.
We drove straight back to the emergency room at Lake Saint Louis, where X-rays
showed three broken ribs and a broken collarbone. Polo strikes again.
Florence, Missouri
1st of 10 in Open B
Florence was the site of last year's rainout, and since I didn't attend the race on its
make-up date, this year was my first look at the full course. Sometimes you can tell
how the race is going to be just by driving into the staging area. The gravel road
leading into the place was rough, very rocky and dusty. As it turned out, so was the
course.
But what a difference a year makes. Instead of raining the entire morning, we had
drought conditions and temperatures in the 90's. Matt and I took a quick look at the
course as the ATV's were racing, and around every corner they had scraped off the top
surface and left a small berm of fine powder. Dust was everywhere. The course
passed by the pit area in a quarter-mile straight, wide open. The ATV's were flying
through there so fast that I could feel them coming.
The first part of the course was laid out similar to last year, except where there had
been rushing streams of floodwater, only dry creeks and gullies remained. A mile or
so into the practice lap, the dusty trail left the staging area and we headed out to the
main creek. The dust subsided for a bit and the first creek crossing took us up a
short, steep bank that was slick and muddy. That 15 feet of mud was all we would
see in the 8-9 mile course. After that it was loose, gravelly terrain with some sections
surprisingly tight, considering that ATV's had been through there. I tried to go easy on
the practice lap and not wear down the tire with unnecessary wheel spin, but some of
the hills were tough to climb without getting aggressive. Near the end of the course
was a fast section down a dry creek bed, then through some standing water and back
towards the staging area. As we finished the last mile of the course, the trail led us
through an old cattle chute, then meandered back to the far end of the staging area,
and finally down the long WFO straightaway past the pits, around the old farmhouse
and to the scoring trailer (note to promoters: next year, please run us THROUGH the
old farmhouse, maybe up and down the stairs...actually dreamed about that once, it
was cool). The course was incredibly rough, thanks in part to the ATV's that
uncovered every rock on the trail. Between the heat, dust, and rocks, I was expecting
an average finish. A Newark-style course is where I usually do best, but the Florence
course wasn't anything close to that.
On the starting line, the Open B class was several rows behind the A and Double-A
riders. We watched the fast guys take off and kick up a huge cloud of dust, with the
guys in the back of the pack struggling to see much of anything. A stiff breeze cleared
out the dust quickly, but then another row would take off and bring back the dust cloud.
When our row finally took off, I got a decent start and came out of the first turn wide,
back wheel sliding out dangerously. I was in third place and Matt was just behind me
as we ate the leaders' dust for a half-mile or so. The lone Yamaha in our group of
KTM's took the lead, followed by a KTM and then me. When we came out into an open
pasture near the staging area, the KTM guy ahead of me went left and the trail went
straight. So I took over second place and set my sights on the Yamaha. I caught up
to him when he got hung up on the muddy creek bank, then followed him as he
struggled up a rocky hill and had trouble with some nasty tree roots. He finally let me
by and I took over the lead.
In a Missouri race, I can't recall ever leading my class, at least not knowingly. And
especially not at a nasty race like Florence. Now the pressure was on to maintain the
lead, which is a big advantage in the dust. I had a few miles of clean air before
catching up to riders in the other classes ahead of me. Each time, passing was a
struggle. In some of the open areas, the dust was thick enough that I had to back off
and let the dust clear before attempting a pass. I kept the lead for the first lap and
tried to maintain a decent pace over the second lap. Despite a couple of near
crashes, I kept it together but was starting to warm up from the heat. The only chance
to cool down was in the big creek that had some standing water, but even that didn't
help much. After lap two, I checked my watch and was less than an hour into the race,
so it was looking like I'd get five laps in total.
Lap three was more of the same. No major mistakes, but I had no idea how much of
a lead I still had. I kept pushing, banged my knuckles on a tree and splashed some
spectators in the creek. On lap four, I came up on a guy on a KTM who appeared to
be slower, so I tried the 'ole block pass technique in the woods and came out of the
corner literally bar-to-bar with the guy. It was a race to the next turn, dead even until I
braked late and forced my way by. Not sure where this new aggression is coming
from, but my apologies to what appeared to be the #30 bike of Adam Ashcroft in the
250B class (he got back around me quickly and finished a minute or two ahead of me
overall--justice served).
I kept up the pace on my fifth and final lap and was a couple miles from the end when
I came up on some course marshals riding ATV's on the trail. They stayed clear of
me, but their dust obscured the main rut through an opening in a fence, and I dropped
the bike in a gentle slide-out. When you're in the lead and don't know where the
second place guy is, strange things start to happen when you drop the bike. I was in
near-panic mode while picking up the bike, even more so when the bike didn't fire up
on the first kick. At that point my lead was about 6 minutes, but for all I knew it could
have been 6 seconds. I began to think of what a sick feeling it was going to be to give
up the lead in the last two miles of the race, after leading every lap up to that point.
The engine came to life on the second kick.
Total time lost: about 10 highly stressful seconds. Still in second gear, I dumped the
clutch and rode like hell to the finish a few minutes later. The results confirmed that I
had, indeed, achieved my first MHSC class win, almost exactly four years after my
initiation into the Missouri hare scrambles scene (Flat River, '98 March of Dimes) and
on a course that has traditionally been unkind to me. Brandon Forrester and Steve
Leivan continued their battle for the MHSC series, with Brandon taking the overall win
and Steve close behind. Last year's top Open B racers, Tracy Bauman (MHSC #137)
and David Taylor (MHSC #17), continued to rep-uh-zent in the A class, as Bauman
took the win at Florence and Taylor won the previous round at Tebbetts (and they were
each in the top 10 overall at both races). Nice job, guys.
August 11, 2002
Polo, Missouri
1st of 8 in Open B
The last part of the MHSC series takes me to the furthest reaches of the state, and
Polo is about the longest drive of the year. The highlight of the trip is crossing the
Missouri River at Lexington on a bridge so narrow that you could high-five oncoming
drivers without even extending your arm. From my house, it's just under 4 hours if you
can hold your bowels that long without stopping (Matt never can).
We pulled into the staging area and chose our customary spot next to the
port-a-potties. Wade Hall and the Shake's Pizza group were already there, minus
PizzaMan who had a different two-wheeled off-road activity to attend to that day. Polo
is a bike-only race, and the absence of ATV noise created a quiet, relaxed
atmosphere as we signed up. The weather was warm but not unbearably hot, and
the course looked very dry. We got started on the practice lap with Matt leading me
around the course until we got to a bottleneck at a short hill climb. The route to the top
was rocky and loose, but the main problem was a two-foot rock ledge at the top. I
didn't have much patience for waiting my turn, so I cut off to the right and took an
alternate route around several guys parked on the side of the hill. After that, I had
clean air. The trail was really nice and it didn't take long to get into a fast groove. Matt
was somewhere behind me as I came to the spot where I had crashed so hard last
year. This year, a check was placed in just about the same spot as my wipeout, so
that was one less area of concern. After I finished my practice lap, maybe it was the
confidence from my class win at Florence, or the quick pace from the practice lap, but
one thought burst into my mind: If I can get a good start and ride smart, I will do well
today. As it turned out, I was correct.
As we lined up for the start, our class size seemed a bit small, with only 8 guys racing
Open B. Some of the regulars, like PizzaMan, Ray Osia, and Matt Coffman were
no-shows, but overall attendance was about what you'd expect for the middle of
August. Brandon Forrester, in the hunt to end Steve Leivan's 8-year run as MHSC
champ, caught a bad break with a fouled plug just before the start. He was still
sorting it out as our class started, 5 minutes behind the AA's. I got off to a good start,
albeit a slightly scary one as a 4-stroke KTM leaned into me as we were heading for
the woods. It was basically a straight shot to the woods and I kept the gas on the
longest to take the holeshot, something I've never done before. After many, many
races of eating other guys' dust and mud on the first lap, I was happy to have a clean
path ahead of me. A couple miles later, I couldn't hear anyone behind me and I
started catching up to the dust of the guys in the classes ahead of me. The trail was
fairly tight, so passing was a challenge, but near the end of the first lap I had caught
up to most of the guys I was going to catch, and the air was clean.
The course was filled with flat chunks of rock, the kind we used as stepping stones
back home on the farm. On some of the hills, all I could hear besides my screaming
engine was the clinking of rocks, like clay pots bumping together. I saw a guy in the
Junior class launching his bike up one of those hills, just letting it fly on its own, but all
it did was flip backwards and fall back down the hill. The trail also had some rock
ledge drop-offs, which I was too tame to jump over. I just let the front wheel fall down,
carefully, figuring it was better to be safe than risk relinquishing my lead. Even when
the HammerDown video crew was filming at one of the drop-offs and I was tempted to
show off, I still played it safe.
On my second lap, I came out of the woods into the first open pasture section and
saw Matt standing beside his bike. I figured he broke something on his bike, shook
my head as if to say "What'd you do this time?" and kept on riding. When he was still
there on my third lap, I knew something must be wrong, but he was being helped by
200B rider Jeff Neathery, who had suffered a flat tire on his Gas Gas. By this time I
was gradually catching up to lapped riders, who were easy to spot from the dust left
behind.
Later in lap 3, my engine bogged a couple times on small jumps, which from past
experience suggested that I was running low on gas. On a tight course like Polo, I
shouldn't have been close to empty after only 90 minutes. On the fourth lap I backed
off a bit, trying to conserve fuel. I finally had to switch to reserve with about 10 minutes
left, but I finished without incident and took the victory.
The celebration was short-lived, as Matt was in pain back at the truck. In the open
field, he had drifted right and found some nasty ruts while braking before re-entering
the woods. The bike bucked him off and Matt took a nasty impact on his right side.
The EMT's were attending to him while I packed up our stuff and loaded the bikes.
We drove straight back to the emergency room at Lake Saint Louis, where X-rays
showed three broken ribs and a broken collarbone. Polo strikes again.
Florence, Missouri
Polo, Missouri
Polo, Missouri
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