| 2004 Race Reports |
Hell's Holler Hare Scramble
MHSC Round #10
August 22, 2004
Newark, MO
5th of 9 in A Sportsman
For me, the “hell” part of Hell’s Holler began two weeks prior to the event while
helping Gary Mittleberg & Co. break in the trails for the race. Led by Gary’s son
Cameron, we were slowly making our way around what turned out to be a 15-mile
loop, most of which was new singletrack. Cameron regularly sacrificed his bike and
body for the discovery of obstacles hidden under the brush. I did my part, too. About
11 miles into the loop, I passed by what appeared to be a harmless log lying parallel
to the trail. At the exact instant I attempted to up-shift into second gear, the end of my
left boot met a broken-off branch sticking out of the log. Once this sharp branch got
hold of my boot, the foot peg was right behind it. I came to an abrupt halt, my boot
wedged between the branch and the foot peg. Yeah, it hurt.
At first I thought it was just a bruise. When the pain didn't go away and I couldn't put
much pressure on my foot, I had worse thoughts - the kind where you’re not sure if
you want to take off your boot for fear of what you might see. After a slow mile in first
gear, I took a shortcut back to my truck and called it a day. On the way there I had to
scale Joust Hill, so named for a tree branch on the way up that had once jousted a
certain rider off his bike. The alternate route I took around Joust Hill had me nearly
stuck to my axles in a muddy swamp, but somehow the rounded knobs of my KTM’s
rear tire, the same beaten rubber I’d used for all 100 miles of the Leadbelt Enduro,
pushed me through it. After a couple attempts I was able to scale the hill and return to
my truck.
The next day a foot X-ray confirmed my suspicions: a toe was broken. For being such
a small little bone, it sure did hurt. But like last year with my sprained ankle, the pain
gradually subsided and I passed the final test the night before the race: I could push
my foot into the boot and shift gears, so I was going racing. I picked up Matt in
Wentzville and we arrived to a gorgeous day at the Miller farm. While pulling in next to
#500 Marty Smith, one small problem became evident almost immediately: my left
rear tire was flatter than the hair of a Republican National Convention speaker. While
Matt bummed a Camelbak from Marty, I borrowed his floor jack and mounted the
spare (which, to my surprise, was still filled with air). Little did I know that whatever I
ran over had also punctured both right-side tires. That would become evident
following a business trip three days later, when I returned to the St. Louis airport to
find the truck sagging noticeably to the right.
Gary had shortened the course to 10.5 miles and removed a couple of hills that could
have been tough to climb for the ascensionally challenged. On the practice lap I
hooked up with #250 Adam Ashcroft and #644 Carl Dobson, each of us taking turns
leading. Even though it was well marked, the trail was challenging to follow. We had
done our best to break in the course two weeks prior, but the 100 or more riders
taking a practice run would make it much easier to follow once the race began.
The start of the course was in a pasture, and I was a little slow off the line. Normally
the board drops after it’s turned sideways and “15” (seconds) is visible. This time, the
board never turned and it was dropped while still showing “30”. I was near the back of
the pack as we entered the woods but soon found myself in a group of riders that
included #237 Elston Moore and #38 Todd Corwin. We were packed tightly for most of
the first lap, each of us looking for a little shortcut or slight bobble that could get us in
front. I finally worked my to the third or fourth position as we neared the end of the first
lap at Joust Hill. At the top of the hill, the trail veered left but I turned too soon and got
hung up on a log. Several guys passed me there and I was in 6th place at the scoring
trailer.
On the second lap I caught up to the guys who’d passed me at the top of Joust Hill
and once again we rode as a group for most of the lap. The trail flowed really well and
was a blast to ride. Even more fun was the position-swapping of Todd, Elston and I
on both the second and third laps. So much went on that I can’t remember where it all
happened, but I got around Elston once when we missed a turn that should have
dropped us down into a creek for about 200 feet. I had missed the same turn on the
first lap but luckily saw Todd popping up out of the creek and had dropped in behind
him. The same thing happened on lap 2, except Elston turned back around to find the
trail and I kept going straight until the arrows reappeared (yes, it was a sucker pass).
After getting around Elston and #503 Steve Dean, I put a hard pass on Todd coming
off a steep, slick hill with a sharp left turn at the bottom. Later he got back around me,
but I passed Todd again by taking a higher line through a trail that followed the bottom
of a ravine. After section was a high-speed, straight-line run through a pasture and
somehow the KX had enough speed to fend off Todd’s KTM thumper.
Although I checked into the scoring trailer in the 3rd position at the end of lap 2, Todd
and Elston quickly passed me on the grass track to start the third lap. The position
swapping continued, though. At some point I passed Todd again, but then he passed
me in the same ravine where I had got around him on the previous lap. For some
reason I chose to take Todd’s original route, and he took the higher line. After that, I
could feel some fatigue coming on, thanks to two weeks of inactivity. My toe didn't
bother me much during the race, but I didn't have the stamina to maintain Todd and
Elston’s pace for the whole race. I stayed moderately close to them on the third lap,
but my fourth lap was noticeably slower.
I lost about a minute on the final lap when a guy got hung up on a short hill. Another
guy was ahead of me, waiting for the first guy to move out of the way. I suggested that
he go up the hill around the guy on the right, which he tried and failed. I decided to
show him how it’s done and made it about two feet further before losing traction and
falling over. By the time I picked up the bike and readied myself for another attempt,
the first guy was off the trail and out of the way.
I finished the race a couple minutes behind Elston and Todd, who were barely out of
sight of each other for over two hours. Slade Morlang continued his charge toward the
A+ class by winning our class and finishing 9th overall. Steve Leivan clinched his 12th
MHSC championship with the overall win.
September 5, 2004
Kahoka, Missouri
13th of 15 in 250A (4th of 5 in MHSC A Sportsman)
Once every five years or so, when the stars and planets align properly over Kahoka,
Missouri, the soil dries up and hare scramblers rejoice. I had raced here five times
previously under every type of condition imaginable, from frigid cold (1996), extreme
heat (1999), rain and mud (2002-03) and that single day of near perfection (2001). In
2004 impeccable weather returned for the Mulekicker National Hare Scramble at its
familiar spot at the Burkhart farm.
Matt and I parked next to Team RocketRacing.net, where I collected two trophies
before the race even began. John Yarnell had been saving my 6th place plaque from
the Leadbelt Enduro back in May, while Gary Mittleberg had been holding on to my
2nd place trophy from Florence in July. A third trophy wasn't in the cards, as I signed
up for the 250A class and had no expectations of earning any hardware. The dual-
sanctioned Mulekicker scores points for both the MHSC and the AMA National series,
but the “regular” MHSC riders have their scores tallied separately after the race.
Riders enter their classes based on AMA rules, but regardless of the class entered
for the National event, each MHSC rider gets scored in whatever class they've been
running during the year.
Matt and I took a walk around the farmstead that serves as the Mulekicker’s staging
area, admiring the high dollar rigs that always show up for these events. We admired
a KX65 entered in the mini race that probably had more money in it than my own bike.
Special admiration went out to Kiefer Rosier and his wicked crash on the motocross
track (he remounted, took the lead and the win). But in a big-picture sense, the most
admirable part of the whole experience was mostly a reflection of the obvious: near
Kahoka, Missouri is a farmhouse with a friggin’ near-national-caliber motocross track
in its back yard. No cows, no pigs, no crops, just a motocross track.
In the pasture where we gathered for the start of the race, the 250A’s were lined up
behind the Pro class on the second row. I always enjoy observing the varied routines
of the guys who make their living doing what I love. On one extreme was Andy Shea
with his umbrella girl/girlfriend who, I might add, was genuinely talented. His
Kawasaki sparkled and his body was fully shaded while we waited for Aaron Shaw to
change a fouled plug. On the opposite side of the Pro’s row, both literally and
figuratively, was Shane Watts, the gifted Australian with a recent knack for untimely
injuries. Had he been wearing anything but a chest protector with “Watts” imprinted
on its backside, he could have lined up in a middle row and drawn little attention.
My two-kick start put me well in the back of the pack, a spot in where I pretty much
expected to be anyway. The 250A’s seem to be the most competitive of the various “A”
classes, with some of the participants within shouting distance of the Pro’s. We
began in the same open field as in past races, turned left to follow the fence line of
the pit area, then made a brief pass through the motocross track before entering the
woods. All of this happened at warp speed. I caught up to #250 Adam Ashcroft and
passed him while we curved around the other side of the pits. Without the traditional
MHSC warm-up lap I was a bit out of focus on the first lap. The pack didn't spread out
much when we entered the first of the singletrack and I was concentrating more on
the bike in front of me than on what was coming up ahead. The course never stayed
inside the woods for more than a mile, so it was a constant high-speed, low-speed
ride around what had been advertised as a 10-mile course. Near the midpoint, we
entered the motocross track for a 300-yard down-and-up straightaway with a couple
of jumps on the downside. Travis Green, an appropriately named Kawasaki rider
from Ohio, caught up to me from the 200A row and launched his bike high into the air.
Landings are soft on the Kahoka track and Travis didn't slow down for the second
jump. He was long gone by the time I made it back into the woods.
The second half of the course was more open than the first, thanks to an abundance
of grass tracks. This year I haven’t loathed the fast pasture sections as much on the
KX, with its motocross-style hit and confidence-inspiring brakes. Solely through
attrition I worked my way up to the 12th spot at the end of the first full lap. The field had
spread out by this time, which meant I had to begin focusing on the trail in front, rather
than the back tire of the guy ahead of me. After two years of muddy Mulekickers, the
dry course was full of the chop left over from endless ruts. The worst of it was in front
of the pits, just before entering the motocross track for the final time on each lap. It
was a straight line to the track, but fast and incredibly rough. Some guys were trying to
pit along the fence line that separated the course from the staging area, which added
further complications.
Since I’d been told the course was 10 miles, I planned to stop for gas after the third
lap. I assumed that would be just shy of two hours into the race. Even though my body
was ready for a rest after three laps, after checking through the scoring trailer my
watch showed I’d barely ridden an hour. My lap times were just north of 20 minutes,
but it was still hard for me to believe I could do 10 miles that quickly. I smacked the
watch that was wrapped around my handlebars to make sure it hadn't performed its
trick of switching modes to “Alarm”. No problems there, so I did some more math and
figured I could wait until I’d completed 5 laps before gassing.
Near the middle of the 5th lap, I came up behind a train of lappers that included #369
Jim Walker of RocketRacing.net. Naturally it happened just before the longest stretch
of limited passing opportunities. Other than pull over and stop, there wasn't much any
of the guys ahead of me could do except keep on riding. Eventually our pack grew to
include Shane Watts, who had taken over the lead on that lap. Even he, the master
lapper passer, couldn't find any way to get around our group. When we came to the
motocross track, Watts checked out with Chuck Woodford just a few seconds behind.
Jason Raines was also making a charge, with he and Cole Calkins right behind
Watts and Woodford.
Lurking behind me was Adam Ashcroft, who up to that point had been a couple
minutes back for most of the race. My gas stop at the beginning of the 6th lap was just
lengthy enough for him to pass me while I screwed on the gas cap. I followed him
closely for about half the lap, then decided to attempt a pass by going through a minor
mud hole that everyone else was avoiding. I didn't quite have the momentum to get
through my chosen rut, but Glen Osia, working the race, gave my forks a tug and
pulled me out. Adam was still ahead and I tried to keep him in sight. When we
entered the motocross track for the second time on that lap, at each turn he was
about a hundred yards ahead and maintained that distance when we neared the
scoring trailer. Surprisingly, the white flag was already out. I had expected to do 8
laps, but my 7th would be my last. So I made a decision: I must pass Adam.
I used to think I was only capable of riding at 100% speed 100% of the time. All this
talk from the Pro’s about pacing themselves during the race, keeping the lead guys in
sight and then making a last-lap charge to the finish, I didn't get it. And for the most
part, I still don’t. But once I decided I had to catch Adam, it was on, baby! With one lap
to go, I summoned what little energy was left in my beat up body and got aggressive.
On the previous couple of laps I had slowed to 23 minutes, about a minute longer
than what I’d done with a fresh body on the first two laps. But my final charge whittled
the last lap down to a respectable 22:19. I took a chance on the motocross track,
passing Adam near the spot and in the same style that Travis Green had launched
himself by me on the first lap (a “Bubba” pass, as Adam would later describe it). On
our second pass through the motocross track I could see Adam a few turns behind.
He got closer when I re-entered the woods and slid out around a corner. But the
engine kept running and so did I. With dehydration chills passing through my body, I
finished the race just in front of Adam.
Jason Raines took the overall win, with Shane Watts in second. Top Missouri
finishers were Chris Thiele in 6th and Steve Leivan in 7th. In the MHSC-only scoring, I
was fourth in A Sportsman and 24th overall.
MHSC Round #10
August 22, 2004
Newark, MO
5th of 9 in A Sportsman
For me, the “hell” part of Hell’s Holler began two weeks prior to the event while
helping Gary Mittleberg & Co. break in the trails for the race. Led by Gary’s son
Cameron, we were slowly making our way around what turned out to be a 15-mile
loop, most of which was new singletrack. Cameron regularly sacrificed his bike and
body for the discovery of obstacles hidden under the brush. I did my part, too. About
11 miles into the loop, I passed by what appeared to be a harmless log lying parallel
to the trail. At the exact instant I attempted to up-shift into second gear, the end of my
left boot met a broken-off branch sticking out of the log. Once this sharp branch got
hold of my boot, the foot peg was right behind it. I came to an abrupt halt, my boot
wedged between the branch and the foot peg. Yeah, it hurt.
At first I thought it was just a bruise. When the pain didn't go away and I couldn't put
much pressure on my foot, I had worse thoughts - the kind where you’re not sure if
you want to take off your boot for fear of what you might see. After a slow mile in first
gear, I took a shortcut back to my truck and called it a day. On the way there I had to
scale Joust Hill, so named for a tree branch on the way up that had once jousted a
certain rider off his bike. The alternate route I took around Joust Hill had me nearly
stuck to my axles in a muddy swamp, but somehow the rounded knobs of my KTM’s
rear tire, the same beaten rubber I’d used for all 100 miles of the Leadbelt Enduro,
pushed me through it. After a couple attempts I was able to scale the hill and return to
my truck.
The next day a foot X-ray confirmed my suspicions: a toe was broken. For being such
a small little bone, it sure did hurt. But like last year with my sprained ankle, the pain
gradually subsided and I passed the final test the night before the race: I could push
my foot into the boot and shift gears, so I was going racing. I picked up Matt in
Wentzville and we arrived to a gorgeous day at the Miller farm. While pulling in next to
#500 Marty Smith, one small problem became evident almost immediately: my left
rear tire was flatter than the hair of a Republican National Convention speaker. While
Matt bummed a Camelbak from Marty, I borrowed his floor jack and mounted the
spare (which, to my surprise, was still filled with air). Little did I know that whatever I
ran over had also punctured both right-side tires. That would become evident
following a business trip three days later, when I returned to the St. Louis airport to
find the truck sagging noticeably to the right.
Gary had shortened the course to 10.5 miles and removed a couple of hills that could
have been tough to climb for the ascensionally challenged. On the practice lap I
hooked up with #250 Adam Ashcroft and #644 Carl Dobson, each of us taking turns
leading. Even though it was well marked, the trail was challenging to follow. We had
done our best to break in the course two weeks prior, but the 100 or more riders
taking a practice run would make it much easier to follow once the race began.
The start of the course was in a pasture, and I was a little slow off the line. Normally
the board drops after it’s turned sideways and “15” (seconds) is visible. This time, the
board never turned and it was dropped while still showing “30”. I was near the back of
the pack as we entered the woods but soon found myself in a group of riders that
included #237 Elston Moore and #38 Todd Corwin. We were packed tightly for most of
the first lap, each of us looking for a little shortcut or slight bobble that could get us in
front. I finally worked my to the third or fourth position as we neared the end of the first
lap at Joust Hill. At the top of the hill, the trail veered left but I turned too soon and got
hung up on a log. Several guys passed me there and I was in 6th place at the scoring
trailer.
On the second lap I caught up to the guys who’d passed me at the top of Joust Hill
and once again we rode as a group for most of the lap. The trail flowed really well and
was a blast to ride. Even more fun was the position-swapping of Todd, Elston and I
on both the second and third laps. So much went on that I can’t remember where it all
happened, but I got around Elston once when we missed a turn that should have
dropped us down into a creek for about 200 feet. I had missed the same turn on the
first lap but luckily saw Todd popping up out of the creek and had dropped in behind
him. The same thing happened on lap 2, except Elston turned back around to find the
trail and I kept going straight until the arrows reappeared (yes, it was a sucker pass).
After getting around Elston and #503 Steve Dean, I put a hard pass on Todd coming
off a steep, slick hill with a sharp left turn at the bottom. Later he got back around me,
but I passed Todd again by taking a higher line through a trail that followed the bottom
of a ravine. After section was a high-speed, straight-line run through a pasture and
somehow the KX had enough speed to fend off Todd’s KTM thumper.
Although I checked into the scoring trailer in the 3rd position at the end of lap 2, Todd
and Elston quickly passed me on the grass track to start the third lap. The position
swapping continued, though. At some point I passed Todd again, but then he passed
me in the same ravine where I had got around him on the previous lap. For some
reason I chose to take Todd’s original route, and he took the higher line. After that, I
could feel some fatigue coming on, thanks to two weeks of inactivity. My toe didn't
bother me much during the race, but I didn't have the stamina to maintain Todd and
Elston’s pace for the whole race. I stayed moderately close to them on the third lap,
but my fourth lap was noticeably slower.
I lost about a minute on the final lap when a guy got hung up on a short hill. Another
guy was ahead of me, waiting for the first guy to move out of the way. I suggested that
he go up the hill around the guy on the right, which he tried and failed. I decided to
show him how it’s done and made it about two feet further before losing traction and
falling over. By the time I picked up the bike and readied myself for another attempt,
the first guy was off the trail and out of the way.
I finished the race a couple minutes behind Elston and Todd, who were barely out of
sight of each other for over two hours. Slade Morlang continued his charge toward the
A+ class by winning our class and finishing 9th overall. Steve Leivan clinched his 12th
MHSC championship with the overall win.
September 5, 2004
Kahoka, Missouri
13th of 15 in 250A (4th of 5 in MHSC A Sportsman)
Once every five years or so, when the stars and planets align properly over Kahoka,
Missouri, the soil dries up and hare scramblers rejoice. I had raced here five times
previously under every type of condition imaginable, from frigid cold (1996), extreme
heat (1999), rain and mud (2002-03) and that single day of near perfection (2001). In
2004 impeccable weather returned for the Mulekicker National Hare Scramble at its
familiar spot at the Burkhart farm.
Matt and I parked next to Team RocketRacing.net, where I collected two trophies
before the race even began. John Yarnell had been saving my 6th place plaque from
the Leadbelt Enduro back in May, while Gary Mittleberg had been holding on to my
2nd place trophy from Florence in July. A third trophy wasn't in the cards, as I signed
up for the 250A class and had no expectations of earning any hardware. The dual-
sanctioned Mulekicker scores points for both the MHSC and the AMA National series,
but the “regular” MHSC riders have their scores tallied separately after the race.
Riders enter their classes based on AMA rules, but regardless of the class entered
for the National event, each MHSC rider gets scored in whatever class they've been
running during the year.
Matt and I took a walk around the farmstead that serves as the Mulekicker’s staging
area, admiring the high dollar rigs that always show up for these events. We admired
a KX65 entered in the mini race that probably had more money in it than my own bike.
Special admiration went out to Kiefer Rosier and his wicked crash on the motocross
track (he remounted, took the lead and the win). But in a big-picture sense, the most
admirable part of the whole experience was mostly a reflection of the obvious: near
Kahoka, Missouri is a farmhouse with a friggin’ near-national-caliber motocross track
in its back yard. No cows, no pigs, no crops, just a motocross track.
In the pasture where we gathered for the start of the race, the 250A’s were lined up
behind the Pro class on the second row. I always enjoy observing the varied routines
of the guys who make their living doing what I love. On one extreme was Andy Shea
with his umbrella girl/girlfriend who, I might add, was genuinely talented. His
Kawasaki sparkled and his body was fully shaded while we waited for Aaron Shaw to
change a fouled plug. On the opposite side of the Pro’s row, both literally and
figuratively, was Shane Watts, the gifted Australian with a recent knack for untimely
injuries. Had he been wearing anything but a chest protector with “Watts” imprinted
on its backside, he could have lined up in a middle row and drawn little attention.
My two-kick start put me well in the back of the pack, a spot in where I pretty much
expected to be anyway. The 250A’s seem to be the most competitive of the various “A”
classes, with some of the participants within shouting distance of the Pro’s. We
began in the same open field as in past races, turned left to follow the fence line of
the pit area, then made a brief pass through the motocross track before entering the
woods. All of this happened at warp speed. I caught up to #250 Adam Ashcroft and
passed him while we curved around the other side of the pits. Without the traditional
MHSC warm-up lap I was a bit out of focus on the first lap. The pack didn't spread out
much when we entered the first of the singletrack and I was concentrating more on
the bike in front of me than on what was coming up ahead. The course never stayed
inside the woods for more than a mile, so it was a constant high-speed, low-speed
ride around what had been advertised as a 10-mile course. Near the midpoint, we
entered the motocross track for a 300-yard down-and-up straightaway with a couple
of jumps on the downside. Travis Green, an appropriately named Kawasaki rider
from Ohio, caught up to me from the 200A row and launched his bike high into the air.
Landings are soft on the Kahoka track and Travis didn't slow down for the second
jump. He was long gone by the time I made it back into the woods.
The second half of the course was more open than the first, thanks to an abundance
of grass tracks. This year I haven’t loathed the fast pasture sections as much on the
KX, with its motocross-style hit and confidence-inspiring brakes. Solely through
attrition I worked my way up to the 12th spot at the end of the first full lap. The field had
spread out by this time, which meant I had to begin focusing on the trail in front, rather
than the back tire of the guy ahead of me. After two years of muddy Mulekickers, the
dry course was full of the chop left over from endless ruts. The worst of it was in front
of the pits, just before entering the motocross track for the final time on each lap. It
was a straight line to the track, but fast and incredibly rough. Some guys were trying to
pit along the fence line that separated the course from the staging area, which added
further complications.
Since I’d been told the course was 10 miles, I planned to stop for gas after the third
lap. I assumed that would be just shy of two hours into the race. Even though my body
was ready for a rest after three laps, after checking through the scoring trailer my
watch showed I’d barely ridden an hour. My lap times were just north of 20 minutes,
but it was still hard for me to believe I could do 10 miles that quickly. I smacked the
watch that was wrapped around my handlebars to make sure it hadn't performed its
trick of switching modes to “Alarm”. No problems there, so I did some more math and
figured I could wait until I’d completed 5 laps before gassing.
Near the middle of the 5th lap, I came up behind a train of lappers that included #369
Jim Walker of RocketRacing.net. Naturally it happened just before the longest stretch
of limited passing opportunities. Other than pull over and stop, there wasn't much any
of the guys ahead of me could do except keep on riding. Eventually our pack grew to
include Shane Watts, who had taken over the lead on that lap. Even he, the master
lapper passer, couldn't find any way to get around our group. When we came to the
motocross track, Watts checked out with Chuck Woodford just a few seconds behind.
Jason Raines was also making a charge, with he and Cole Calkins right behind
Watts and Woodford.
Lurking behind me was Adam Ashcroft, who up to that point had been a couple
minutes back for most of the race. My gas stop at the beginning of the 6th lap was just
lengthy enough for him to pass me while I screwed on the gas cap. I followed him
closely for about half the lap, then decided to attempt a pass by going through a minor
mud hole that everyone else was avoiding. I didn't quite have the momentum to get
through my chosen rut, but Glen Osia, working the race, gave my forks a tug and
pulled me out. Adam was still ahead and I tried to keep him in sight. When we
entered the motocross track for the second time on that lap, at each turn he was
about a hundred yards ahead and maintained that distance when we neared the
scoring trailer. Surprisingly, the white flag was already out. I had expected to do 8
laps, but my 7th would be my last. So I made a decision: I must pass Adam.
I used to think I was only capable of riding at 100% speed 100% of the time. All this
talk from the Pro’s about pacing themselves during the race, keeping the lead guys in
sight and then making a last-lap charge to the finish, I didn't get it. And for the most
part, I still don’t. But once I decided I had to catch Adam, it was on, baby! With one lap
to go, I summoned what little energy was left in my beat up body and got aggressive.
On the previous couple of laps I had slowed to 23 minutes, about a minute longer
than what I’d done with a fresh body on the first two laps. But my final charge whittled
the last lap down to a respectable 22:19. I took a chance on the motocross track,
passing Adam near the spot and in the same style that Travis Green had launched
himself by me on the first lap (a “Bubba” pass, as Adam would later describe it). On
our second pass through the motocross track I could see Adam a few turns behind.
He got closer when I re-entered the woods and slid out around a corner. But the
engine kept running and so did I. With dehydration chills passing through my body, I
finished the race just in front of Adam.
Jason Raines took the overall win, with Shane Watts in second. Top Missouri
finishers were Chris Thiele in 6th and Steve Leivan in 7th. In the MHSC-only scoring, I
was fourth in A Sportsman and 24th overall.
Newark, Missouri
Kahoka, Missouri
Kahoka, Missouri
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