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White City, Illinois
9th of 11 in Big B
Seems like whenever I take Matt with me to race, conditions are just horrible. There had been some rain
during the week and the course was total slop. Plus, it was hotter than a blowtorch and after a mere 10
minutes of racing I was dead tired. Near the beginning of the race I got hung up on a steep hill and lost
some time and energy getting back up the hill on the second try. My front tire (the crappy Bridgestone...jeez,
why didn't I change it!?!?) was working just as horribly as it was in the Cuba mudfest. Absolutely no control,
just slip-sliding in whatever direction. Matt and I had scouted one of the steeper hills before the race, so it
didn't give me any problems. Somehow I got ahead of him, but then my throttle decided to stick wide open
and I rammed into a tree. He was behind me just as I got going again, but then he passed me when I
missed a turn and went off the course for awhile. The throttle stuck a couple more times and would cause
more problems in future races.
At one point I crashed, got back up, and then felt my 'nads on fire. Well, I didn't actually feel them (I'm not like
that, during a race anyway), it was just the sensation. I stopped to see what the problem was (O.K., I didn't
actually look at them right then; that came later) and found the gas cap breather line had come off, and when
I crashed some gas had spilled onto my pants. The burning finally subsided after riding another 10
minutes in hellish pain. I seriously thought about dumping the bike and jumping into the creek.
The loop was 12 miles long and took over an hour to complete the first time around. On the second loop I
caught up to Matt, who had stopped along the trail with fouled spark plug, so he was basically done for the
day. After a 5-minute rest talking to Matt, I felt much better and actually rode pretty well for awhile. The
course dried out some as the race went on. But the last couple of miles were torture. I had no energy left as
I crossed the finish line and as expected, my results were less than impressive, but I did beat Matt (he was
in last place).
June 27, 1999
St. Joe State Park
Park Hills, Missouri
10th of 12 in Open B
This was the annual March of Dimes charity race at St. Joe State Park. KTM brought their factory truck out,
along with Guy Cooper (their paid National rider) and his hot wife. The throttle problems reared their ugly
head right at the start. The bike absolutely refused to start when the flag dropped. It had run fine before that.
I had to pull off to the side while row after row took off and I sat there and kicked like hell. Looking back on it,
I think the carburetor was sticking open, which meant the more I kicked the more I flooded the engine. I
finally got going just before the ladies started, and then about 300 yards into the race the throttle stuck open
in a section of whoops. I crashed hard and bruised my thigh while the ladies all passed me, but I caught up
to them later. They are much faster than most people think. Later on in the race the bike was running bad,
like I fouled a plug or something. I finished the lap and then went back to my truck and wasted a lot of time
changing the plug, and it ran just as bad with the new one. The throttle stuck open a few more times, but I
was more prepared for it and didn't crash. I started fearing the motorcycle, as if I was riding a horse with a
mind of its own...very scary. No control whatsoever, just hang on for your life. A nasty storm blew in during
the last lap and the St. Joe sand flats turned into a reincarnation of the Dust Bowl. Then the rain came down
hard, just in time for me to have to load up the bike and change out of dirty clothes. I didn't stick around to
see how bad I did (found out later on the internet).
July 11, 1999
Tebbetts, Missouri
8th of 11 in Open B
After some rain, I assumed this course would be in bad shape, but trail conditions turned out nearly perfect.
It was a typical rocky course, 10 or 11 miles long, except the trail was much faster than normal. Nothing
tight, all 3rd, 4th, and 5th gear stuff. There was one section about a mile long that was a rocky creek bed.
Very tough. I just couldn't figure out how people could be going so fast. There was one place where you
could go WFO (wide f***ing open) for almost a mile, if you had the balls (I didn't). My finish was
disappointing because I didn't really make any mistakes, did my usual 4 laps, and still ended up in the
bottom of my class. I was beginning to wonder if I really belonged in the B class.
