| 2007 Race Reports |
April 29, 2007
Leadbelt National Enduro
Park Hills, Missouri
6th of 18 in Vet A
For reasons unclear to me, and probably anyone else, I like to keep track of my “firsts”.
These are the things and events which happen over the course of time that have not
occurred up to that point. First car, first house, first trophy, first under-descriptive race
report (that’ll have to wait). At the 2007 Leadbelt National Enduro, once again hosted
by the Missouri Mudders, I’d brought with me my KX250 instead of my normal enduro
ride, the KTM 300MXC. Why? Like last year, the Leadbelt would again be run in a rally
format, consisting of several special tests scattered throughout the course. All we had
to do was show up on time to each test, go as fast as we could for anywhere from 3 to
15 miles, and go home. Timekeeping equipment was mostly unnecessary.
Thus, the odometer-less KX made the trip to Park Hills for its first-ever enduro, with an
overnight stop at the Sellers estate in Wentzville. Upon arrival at St. Joe State Park, I
found a premium parking spot 30 feet downwind from a port-a-pooper and began
preparations for the following 5.5 hours. These included a couple finger squeezes to
the front and rear tires to insure adequate inflation and some extra duct tape around
my Power Bars to keep them from becoming a mashed pile of mush matching the
Cappuccino-shaded walls inside my condo (thanks to the metrosexualized former
owner of my place, I now know that Cappuccino is not just a “coffee”, it’s also a color).
The superbly organized Blackjack Enduro Circuit had, as always, posted the route
sheet on the BJEC website, and it appeared the Missouri Mudders had taken pity on
the riders who had braved 90 miles of monsoon conditions last year. This year’s
Leadbelt would be only 75 miles. And with absolutely gorgeous, sunny skies, mud
would be as common as Hillary Clinton in hot pants.
Since BJEC races require a spark arrestor and a sound test, my first order of business
was lining up at the sound meter for a decibel check. In an uncontrolled eBay buying
spree several years ago, I’d bought both an FMF Power Core spark arrestor and an
FMF “Q” silencer for the KX, both of which were in my possession at the Leadbelt.
Fortunately, the Power Core was good enough to pass the test and the “Q”, also
known as El Torpedo, was unnecessary.
At the starting line, Jon “Spud” Simons took his familiar spot near the front of the pack
on row 3. Missing this year was his usual partner, Aaron “Chili” Roberts, who’d
decided to take a break from the Leadbelt after a memorable experience at the White
Rock Enduro (a story for another time). Six rows behind Spud was me, ISDE veteran
John Yates, John Johnson and Mitch Rabe. When our minute came up, I blasted out
first, headed for the pedestrian bridge adjoining the public area of the park, and
readjusted myself to the KX.
After a few minutes, John Yates flew by on his KTM as we entered the woods inside
the public area of St. Joe State Park. We worked our way around the perimeter of the
park where I immediately smashed my chain guide against a rock, completely due to
laziness. The rock was plainly visible in an open area and I headed straight for it in the
same way the kids in my neighborhood sprint across four-lane streets to chase a
dude selling ice cream out of a 3-wheel bicycle. With plenty of time to spare, the first
group of riders was still waiting for their test to begin. Thus began a ten-minute
observation of other riders and their equipment. Mostly just their boots, actually. The
enduro guys really like expensive boots. I noticed this at last year’s ISDE qualifier in
Colorado and now I spend a good deal of time observing footwear and wondering why
I've held fast to AXO’s for over 10 years. Alpine Stars be damned, eBay is my answer.
Rule #7 of enduro racing goes like this: the A-class rider who drove all the way from
Oregon gets to go first. So began our first test, with John Yates taking off fast and
steadily pulling away. About 5 minutes later, a pair of Husabergs ridden by orange-
appareled riders screamed by. Dylan Debel and Ricard Wressel, dressed identically,
were quickly out of sight. When the test ended in sand flats 5 miles later, I saw one of
the coolest accessories ever to see time on a dirt bike: aluminum gas tanks on both of
the Husabergs. Then Ben Smith pulled up with his Christini all-wheel-drive Honda and
put to rest any debate about who had the coolest gadget. At last year’s Leadbelt, I
would have traded by left testicle for that bike.
Test #2 took us through the other side of the fence from the public area of the park.
The singletrack here was delicious, with a few short stretches of 4th gear where the
KX shined. The end of the 7.5-mile test was near the starting point about ¼-mile from
the staging area. I gassed up and attempted to straighten the chain guide by pounding
it against a rock. With moderate success, I bolted it back together, minus one stubborn
bolt that I decided I could live without, and sprinted to the starting point. From there
was a 1.5-mile ride through mostly open sand to the beginning of the third test.
We were now in one of the rockier sections of the park, outside the public area where
we would remain for most of the rest of the race. I stayed close to John Yates for a mile
or two until he showed his ISDE skills in a rutted ATV trail. His path was smooth; mine
was choppy. That was all it took for him to disappear out of sight for the rest of the 5.5-
mile test. We were very close to the infamous waterfall section that generated many
interesting photos from last year’s race, but the creek never appeared.
From there was a 5 mile cruise up and down the rolling hills under a power line. Back
inside the woods was Test #4, which at 15 miles was the longest of the day. It was
also the best test of the day, all singletrack. Club member Mike Schmidt was on hand
to check in riders while Ben Smith explained that his front tire does not actually wear
out twice as fast as everyone else’s. In this section, some form of trail junk grabbed
my left foot and gave my knee a good twist. It was a moment of pain and hope that the
hurting would end quickly. It did, five painful minutes later. The long section of creek
bed that was so difficult last year was 150% better, even the flat rock section that was
now relatively dry. I finished the test, gassed up for the last time and cruised back to
the same spot where we’d started the second loop.
The group of riders starting the third and final loop was noticeably smaller, due to the
various C classes riding only the first two loops. As the clock wound down to our
minute, we were headed in a slightly different direction than the previous loop and took
on some new trails. As the lady at the checkpoint counted down the seconds with just
her right hand, John Yates was looking elsewhere. When her hand signaled zero, I
took off first and John followed. We rode together for a mile or so until I could sense it
was time for John to go on ahead. He never uttered a single word behind me, only
waited patiently as he did at earlier points in the race when we came upon slower
riders, then made passes as opportunities were presented.
Eventually what I’d been anticipating on the previous loop appeared in all its glory: the
waterfall. As usual, spectators lined the banks of the rock bottom creek and watched
me jump off the ledges. I hit all of them cleanly except the last 2-footer, when I didn't
have enough running room to get some momentum under the front wheel. The wheel
dropped off the ledge, but I was able to make the save and continue. John Yates was
far ahead of me at this point, but he would later comment that the rock base almost
seemed more slick without rushing whitewater. If nothing else, the last year’s flowing
water may have helped the bikes track a little straighter through there.
Leadbelt National Enduro
Park Hills, Missouri
6th of 18 in Vet A
For reasons unclear to me, and probably anyone else, I like to keep track of my “firsts”.
These are the things and events which happen over the course of time that have not
occurred up to that point. First car, first house, first trophy, first under-descriptive race
report (that’ll have to wait). At the 2007 Leadbelt National Enduro, once again hosted
by the Missouri Mudders, I’d brought with me my KX250 instead of my normal enduro
ride, the KTM 300MXC. Why? Like last year, the Leadbelt would again be run in a rally
format, consisting of several special tests scattered throughout the course. All we had
to do was show up on time to each test, go as fast as we could for anywhere from 3 to
15 miles, and go home. Timekeeping equipment was mostly unnecessary.
Thus, the odometer-less KX made the trip to Park Hills for its first-ever enduro, with an
overnight stop at the Sellers estate in Wentzville. Upon arrival at St. Joe State Park, I
found a premium parking spot 30 feet downwind from a port-a-pooper and began
preparations for the following 5.5 hours. These included a couple finger squeezes to
the front and rear tires to insure adequate inflation and some extra duct tape around
my Power Bars to keep them from becoming a mashed pile of mush matching the
Cappuccino-shaded walls inside my condo (thanks to the metrosexualized former
owner of my place, I now know that Cappuccino is not just a “coffee”, it’s also a color).
The superbly organized Blackjack Enduro Circuit had, as always, posted the route
sheet on the BJEC website, and it appeared the Missouri Mudders had taken pity on
the riders who had braved 90 miles of monsoon conditions last year. This year’s
Leadbelt would be only 75 miles. And with absolutely gorgeous, sunny skies, mud
would be as common as Hillary Clinton in hot pants.
Since BJEC races require a spark arrestor and a sound test, my first order of business
was lining up at the sound meter for a decibel check. In an uncontrolled eBay buying
spree several years ago, I’d bought both an FMF Power Core spark arrestor and an
FMF “Q” silencer for the KX, both of which were in my possession at the Leadbelt.
Fortunately, the Power Core was good enough to pass the test and the “Q”, also
known as El Torpedo, was unnecessary.
At the starting line, Jon “Spud” Simons took his familiar spot near the front of the pack
on row 3. Missing this year was his usual partner, Aaron “Chili” Roberts, who’d
decided to take a break from the Leadbelt after a memorable experience at the White
Rock Enduro (a story for another time). Six rows behind Spud was me, ISDE veteran
John Yates, John Johnson and Mitch Rabe. When our minute came up, I blasted out
first, headed for the pedestrian bridge adjoining the public area of the park, and
readjusted myself to the KX.
After a few minutes, John Yates flew by on his KTM as we entered the woods inside
the public area of St. Joe State Park. We worked our way around the perimeter of the
park where I immediately smashed my chain guide against a rock, completely due to
laziness. The rock was plainly visible in an open area and I headed straight for it in the
same way the kids in my neighborhood sprint across four-lane streets to chase a
dude selling ice cream out of a 3-wheel bicycle. With plenty of time to spare, the first
group of riders was still waiting for their test to begin. Thus began a ten-minute
observation of other riders and their equipment. Mostly just their boots, actually. The
enduro guys really like expensive boots. I noticed this at last year’s ISDE qualifier in
Colorado and now I spend a good deal of time observing footwear and wondering why
I've held fast to AXO’s for over 10 years. Alpine Stars be damned, eBay is my answer.
Rule #7 of enduro racing goes like this: the A-class rider who drove all the way from
Oregon gets to go first. So began our first test, with John Yates taking off fast and
steadily pulling away. About 5 minutes later, a pair of Husabergs ridden by orange-
appareled riders screamed by. Dylan Debel and Ricard Wressel, dressed identically,
were quickly out of sight. When the test ended in sand flats 5 miles later, I saw one of
the coolest accessories ever to see time on a dirt bike: aluminum gas tanks on both of
the Husabergs. Then Ben Smith pulled up with his Christini all-wheel-drive Honda and
put to rest any debate about who had the coolest gadget. At last year’s Leadbelt, I
would have traded by left testicle for that bike.
Test #2 took us through the other side of the fence from the public area of the park.
The singletrack here was delicious, with a few short stretches of 4th gear where the
KX shined. The end of the 7.5-mile test was near the starting point about ¼-mile from
the staging area. I gassed up and attempted to straighten the chain guide by pounding
it against a rock. With moderate success, I bolted it back together, minus one stubborn
bolt that I decided I could live without, and sprinted to the starting point. From there
was a 1.5-mile ride through mostly open sand to the beginning of the third test.
We were now in one of the rockier sections of the park, outside the public area where
we would remain for most of the rest of the race. I stayed close to John Yates for a mile
or two until he showed his ISDE skills in a rutted ATV trail. His path was smooth; mine
was choppy. That was all it took for him to disappear out of sight for the rest of the 5.5-
mile test. We were very close to the infamous waterfall section that generated many
interesting photos from last year’s race, but the creek never appeared.
From there was a 5 mile cruise up and down the rolling hills under a power line. Back
inside the woods was Test #4, which at 15 miles was the longest of the day. It was
also the best test of the day, all singletrack. Club member Mike Schmidt was on hand
to check in riders while Ben Smith explained that his front tire does not actually wear
out twice as fast as everyone else’s. In this section, some form of trail junk grabbed
my left foot and gave my knee a good twist. It was a moment of pain and hope that the
hurting would end quickly. It did, five painful minutes later. The long section of creek
bed that was so difficult last year was 150% better, even the flat rock section that was
now relatively dry. I finished the test, gassed up for the last time and cruised back to
the same spot where we’d started the second loop.
The group of riders starting the third and final loop was noticeably smaller, due to the
various C classes riding only the first two loops. As the clock wound down to our
minute, we were headed in a slightly different direction than the previous loop and took
on some new trails. As the lady at the checkpoint counted down the seconds with just
her right hand, John Yates was looking elsewhere. When her hand signaled zero, I
took off first and John followed. We rode together for a mile or so until I could sense it
was time for John to go on ahead. He never uttered a single word behind me, only
waited patiently as he did at earlier points in the race when we came upon slower
riders, then made passes as opportunities were presented.
Eventually what I’d been anticipating on the previous loop appeared in all its glory: the
waterfall. As usual, spectators lined the banks of the rock bottom creek and watched
me jump off the ledges. I hit all of them cleanly except the last 2-footer, when I didn't
have enough running room to get some momentum under the front wheel. The wheel
dropped off the ledge, but I was able to make the save and continue. John Yates was
far ahead of me at this point, but he would later comment that the rock base almost
seemed more slick without rushing whitewater. If nothing else, the last year’s flowing
water may have helped the bikes track a little straighter through there.
After this 10.5-mile test was over, I didn't slow down. The route sheet showed the
speed average for the transfer section as 24 mph, rather than the 18 mph average in
the previous transfer sections. Although it wasn't terribly difficult to maintain that
average through the power line section, I wasn't taking any chances. Still, I arrived
plenty early to the 6th and final test of the day, with more of the singletrack we’d
enjoyed in the 15-mile test on the earlier loop. The woods simply flowed up and
down moderately rocky, rolling hills, all the way to the sand flats where the test, and
the race, ended. I thanked the club members at the end, packed up my rock-beaten
KX250 and began the long drive home with a stop in Festus for a Hardees
Thickburger. It was my first.
May 6, 2007
Wedron, Illinois
DNF
Gerhard “Wardy” Ward’s 2007 Fox Valley Off-Road series began with an excellent
turnout for the 2007 opening round. So good, in fact, that I nearly couldn’t find a place
to park. After settling for the middle of a dirt path intended for vehicular traffic, I ran into
the Kankakee Crew, Jeff Snedcor and Troy Weber, on the way to the signup line, then
met Warrenville's very own +40B rider Tony Smith. By the time I returned to my truck, a
few ATV riders attending the morning race had packed up and opened up a sweet
spot next to the Ryan Moss clan.
Course conditions were relatively dry, even dusty in some spots, so I prepared
myself by remembering that I should have thought about taking some slack out of the
chain. The beating I gave the chain guide at the Leadbelt Enduro caused the chain to
grind down the plastic wear block a bit more than was usual, leaving some extra
slack. But there was no time. Once we all completed Wardy’s customary March of the
Testing Transponders, where each rider purposefully walks through the apparatus
responsible for electronic scoring, transponder in hand (or zip-tied to chest
protectors), our next task was to make a beeline for the starting area and claim a
good position in our respective rows. There would be no time for mechanical
modifications.
Wardy's “hat trick” method of starting the race often catches even the most
experienced riders off guard. Jeff Snedcor, racing this year in the Open A class and
positioned one row ahead of me, was one of those riders. I was ready for Wardy’s
trickery, however, and shortly after his hat hit the ground I made the first corner in the
4th spot. Through a series of off-camber ATV trails, I stayed with the lead pack and
passed two riders who missed turns. The trails were fast, and soon enough we
arrived at the most interesting part of the course: the rocky creek. A staple of any
Wardy hare scramble, the creek is Missouri-like in its collection of baseball-sized
rocks. We dropped down into the channel and raced upstream through mud, water
and rounded stones.
As the creek turned to the left, the established line appeared to take us to the right,
straight up a well-traveled bank and onto the dirt road separating the creek from
more woods. The course had been laid out similarly at one of Wardy’s 2006 hare
scrambles, and from there it had been a straight shot across the road and up a
moderately steep wooded trail. The lead rider climbed up out of the bank and I
followed, then picked up the arrows that led to an off-camber trail on the other side of
the road. When the lead rider hesitated on the road, I saw that as a chance to take
over first place and never looked back. If I had, I would have seen more arrows ahead
of me in the creek.
My first hint I’d done something wrong was when I found myself all alone in the
woods. Guys like #401 Will Heitman should have been right behind me. Then Ryan
Moss passed me. Bad sign. Ryan started a row ahead of me in the AA class. High
winds had made a mess of the taped-off area of the motocross track, and at first I
thought maybe I’d cut the course there. Then more A riders from the first row passed
by, including Jeff Snedcor, who probably wondered as Ryan Moss did how I could
have been ahead of him. Crap.
On the second lap, I quickly discovered my error in the creek. When I tried to climb out
of the creek like I’d done previously, a guy was there to point me in the right direction.
After finishing the creek section and working my way back to the point I’d picked up
the off-camber trails the lap before, I estimated that I’d cut about 2 minutes off the
course. As the electronic scoring would later show, that’s almost exactly how much I’
d cut. Lap 1 would have to be thrown out.
At that point it became clear that I was riding for fun. I worked on turning more
aggressively, building momentum on approaches to steep hills, and flying through
the rocky creek as fast as I dared. As lapped riders appeared and a few deep ruts
developed, I did almost as much passing in that creek as I did in the rest of the
course combined.
On my 7th lap, Troy Weber snapped a digital photo of me just after I’d re-twisted the
same knee I’d injured at the Leadbelt Enduro the week before. It hurt just as much
the second time. Seeing as I’d be forfeiting the first lap anyway, I saw it as a sign to
make that lap my last and head for home. The rest of the Vet A riders got in one more
lap, with #445 Clint Pherigo taking a close win over Will Heitman. I brought up the
rear, one lap down. All is fair in love and racing.
speed average for the transfer section as 24 mph, rather than the 18 mph average in
the previous transfer sections. Although it wasn't terribly difficult to maintain that
average through the power line section, I wasn't taking any chances. Still, I arrived
plenty early to the 6th and final test of the day, with more of the singletrack we’d
enjoyed in the 15-mile test on the earlier loop. The woods simply flowed up and
down moderately rocky, rolling hills, all the way to the sand flats where the test, and
the race, ended. I thanked the club members at the end, packed up my rock-beaten
KX250 and began the long drive home with a stop in Festus for a Hardees
Thickburger. It was my first.
May 6, 2007
Wedron, Illinois
DNF
Gerhard “Wardy” Ward’s 2007 Fox Valley Off-Road series began with an excellent
turnout for the 2007 opening round. So good, in fact, that I nearly couldn’t find a place
to park. After settling for the middle of a dirt path intended for vehicular traffic, I ran into
the Kankakee Crew, Jeff Snedcor and Troy Weber, on the way to the signup line, then
met Warrenville's very own +40B rider Tony Smith. By the time I returned to my truck, a
few ATV riders attending the morning race had packed up and opened up a sweet
spot next to the Ryan Moss clan.
Course conditions were relatively dry, even dusty in some spots, so I prepared
myself by remembering that I should have thought about taking some slack out of the
chain. The beating I gave the chain guide at the Leadbelt Enduro caused the chain to
grind down the plastic wear block a bit more than was usual, leaving some extra
slack. But there was no time. Once we all completed Wardy’s customary March of the
Testing Transponders, where each rider purposefully walks through the apparatus
responsible for electronic scoring, transponder in hand (or zip-tied to chest
protectors), our next task was to make a beeline for the starting area and claim a
good position in our respective rows. There would be no time for mechanical
modifications.
Wardy's “hat trick” method of starting the race often catches even the most
experienced riders off guard. Jeff Snedcor, racing this year in the Open A class and
positioned one row ahead of me, was one of those riders. I was ready for Wardy’s
trickery, however, and shortly after his hat hit the ground I made the first corner in the
4th spot. Through a series of off-camber ATV trails, I stayed with the lead pack and
passed two riders who missed turns. The trails were fast, and soon enough we
arrived at the most interesting part of the course: the rocky creek. A staple of any
Wardy hare scramble, the creek is Missouri-like in its collection of baseball-sized
rocks. We dropped down into the channel and raced upstream through mud, water
and rounded stones.
As the creek turned to the left, the established line appeared to take us to the right,
straight up a well-traveled bank and onto the dirt road separating the creek from
more woods. The course had been laid out similarly at one of Wardy’s 2006 hare
scrambles, and from there it had been a straight shot across the road and up a
moderately steep wooded trail. The lead rider climbed up out of the bank and I
followed, then picked up the arrows that led to an off-camber trail on the other side of
the road. When the lead rider hesitated on the road, I saw that as a chance to take
over first place and never looked back. If I had, I would have seen more arrows ahead
of me in the creek.
My first hint I’d done something wrong was when I found myself all alone in the
woods. Guys like #401 Will Heitman should have been right behind me. Then Ryan
Moss passed me. Bad sign. Ryan started a row ahead of me in the AA class. High
winds had made a mess of the taped-off area of the motocross track, and at first I
thought maybe I’d cut the course there. Then more A riders from the first row passed
by, including Jeff Snedcor, who probably wondered as Ryan Moss did how I could
have been ahead of him. Crap.
On the second lap, I quickly discovered my error in the creek. When I tried to climb out
of the creek like I’d done previously, a guy was there to point me in the right direction.
After finishing the creek section and working my way back to the point I’d picked up
the off-camber trails the lap before, I estimated that I’d cut about 2 minutes off the
course. As the electronic scoring would later show, that’s almost exactly how much I’
d cut. Lap 1 would have to be thrown out.
At that point it became clear that I was riding for fun. I worked on turning more
aggressively, building momentum on approaches to steep hills, and flying through
the rocky creek as fast as I dared. As lapped riders appeared and a few deep ruts
developed, I did almost as much passing in that creek as I did in the rest of the
course combined.
On my 7th lap, Troy Weber snapped a digital photo of me just after I’d re-twisted the
same knee I’d injured at the Leadbelt Enduro the week before. It hurt just as much
the second time. Seeing as I’d be forfeiting the first lap anyway, I saw it as a sign to
make that lap my last and head for home. The rest of the Vet A riders got in one more
lap, with #445 Clint Pherigo taking a close win over Will Heitman. I brought up the
rear, one lap down. All is fair in love and racing.
| Check out how the fast guys ride the waterfall. |
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