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Finger Lakes State Park
Columbia, Missouri
2nd of 14 in Open B (18th overall)
Finger Lakes in March is pretty predictable: mud, and lots of it. But after a warm, sunny
Saturday spent outside digging what my neighbors would later describe as "a moat thingie"
around the house (actually, was installing underground drainage for my gutter downspouts,
whatever...homeowner stuff), I was cautiously optimistic about trail conditions. All optimism
failed on the drive to Columbia. Over the phone, Matt wussed out on me (again) but I stopped
by his place anyway for a quick weather update. The internet meteorologist said wet and
cold. Not good.
Just north of Columbia, weather predictions came true as a steady mist followed me into the
park and stayed for the whole race. At the entrance to the staging area, I overheard the club
guys mention something about an ATV racer with a broken leg, confirmed later by Pizza Man
who greeted me while in the midst of working the race. He said the trail conditions had been
pretty good until I got there, and I should expect some slick, nasty hills. After signing up, I
walked a bit of the course and was shocked to see evidence of dirt (more like clay) that
appeared semi-dry in areas where the sun had reached the ground. But the mist continued
and within a half-hour everything was damp. By that time the ATV's were finishing their race
and I stopped to watch some tired, mud-coated 4-wheelers and riders cross a creek. One guy
on a Honda 250R blew out his entire silencer core just after the crossing, and it landed in the
mud, smoking, while the ATV continued on with a noise level approaching that of Lambert
Field at 8:00 a.m. on a weekday. Nice guy that I am, I picked it up and carried it with cold
fingers back to the staging area, where by miraculous luck I happened to walk right past the
guy and handed him his silencer core. As I would later discover during the race, I needed
every ounce of positive karma that came from that good deed.
I decided to warm up with a practice lap and found the course to be challenging but very
doable, with only a few potential bottleneck sections but no bottomless mud. Afterwards, I
discovered that the bolts to the left radiator had fallen out and it was only being held on by the
plastic shrouds. Since I had left in the morning thinking Matt would be coming along, I didn't
pack any spare parts but improvised with the old standby: safety wire and duct tape. On the
starting line, I repeated the previous week's 3-kick performance and began dead last on the
motocross track. Again, a temporary tear-off kept my vision in decent shape and I passed a
few guys on the track before heading into the woods. The first lap showed a few signs of
riders having difficulty with the course, but I rode well and moved toward the front of our class.
At the beginning of the second lap, the course was decomposing into a snot-slick rut, and I
managed to slide out just after the scoring trailer. The right handlebar dragged in the slop
just enough to jam a bunch of mud between the end of the throttle tube and the handguard,
so there was basically no return-spring action - hold it open and it stayed open. Just before
the MX track I attempted one of my classic "shortcuts" to get around a couple guys and ended
up headed straight for a tree. It was one of those instances where there was a split second to
realize there was no saving the bike and to prepare for much pain. I smacked the tree head
on but bailed ever so gracefully, tuck-and-roll scoring 9.7 out of 10 (point deductions for
artistic interpretation and use of the F-word multiple times). I got up just in time to get passed
by the guy in my class with "Davey" painted on the back of his helmet. Kind of cool, but I
prefer to avoid any distinguishing attributes so that maybe the guy drafting behind me thinks
I'm in another class and doesn't try too hard to get around. That's why I wear an all-black
helmet and apply lots of duct tape on my bike, because it really helps me blend in.
Still on lap 2, at the exit of the MX track was a short, steep uphill leading to a 30-foot-long
plateau, and then an abrupt 40-foot drop-off down to an open area. This is where I attempted
to entertain the fans, who were braving the cold wind, steady mist, and mud to watch us climb
the short hill and skate down the long hill. I flew up the hill in third gear, caught some air at
the plateau, heard a "Whoa, boy!" from one of the spectators and had just enough time left to
scrub some speed before sliding down the other side. Still in third gear at the bottom of the
hill, I kept the throttle pinned and attempted to bunny-hop a narrow gully in the middle of the
open area. The front wheel cleared easily, but the spot where I crossed the gully was a bit
deeper than I expected. The back wheel dropped down, smacked the opposite side of the
gully and the rebound catapulted my ass high into the air. So high, in fact, that I performed a
half-handstand on the handlebars and my face was almost within kissing distance of the front
fender, all while traveling at about 30mph. To the fans, this stunt may have resembled Carey
Hart's Kiss of Death, except the bike was horizontal and wheels firmly planted to the ground. I
was fully prepared for pain, but somehow the bike stayed under me and I continued riding.
From now on, I'll leave these tricks to Pastrana.
I caught back up to Davey and passed him for good, but on the third lap the hills were in really
bad shape. The toughest climb, by virtue of length alone, began with a deteriorating creek
crossing and a well-greased, rocky hill that the ATV's had completely destroyed. The hot line
from the first lap was getting slicker with every bike, but I was able to use enough momentum
to scale the hill each time. Alternate routes were developing around many of the hills, and
they all got harder as the race wore on. The worst was a climb that was spaced between a
couple of lakes, with only about three lines to choose from. By the time I made my fourth and
final pass through this section, a stuck rider was blocking the line I had used three times
before, so I took the most-used line that had just opened up, but strayed about a foot to the
edge of the well traveled rut down the center, and the less-used dirt gave just enough traction
to barely get me up the hill. By this time fatigue was a big factor, and I limped to the finish,
quickly changed clothes and sat in my warm truck for about an hour.
Double-A Ron took the overall, after busting out a huge lead and riding safely to the win. The
fast guys didn't even seem affected by the mud. Shaw lapped me about 3/4ths of the way into
my 3rd lap and was just flying. The next guys didn't catch me until I was almost to the scoring
trailer. I finished second, behind Keith Kibort who finished strong in the Open B series last
year and has continued to ride very well this year. Another year, another Columbia mud
debacle.
April 14, 2002
Steelville, Missouri
6th of 22 in Open B
Ever stopped for gas on the way to a race, looked in the back of your truck or trailer and saw
a noticeable void that should have been occupied by a crucial piece of equipment or gear? If
it's happened to you, then you know the sick feeling. I pulled into the Mobil gas station in
Steelville at about 9:00 a.m., stretched my stiff legs with a stroll around the backside of the
truck, and the unthinkable question hit me like a bad episode of MacGyver: why is there so
much empty space in the back of my truck? The answer was pretty simple: I didn't pack the
Rubbermaid container that holds my helmet, gloves, goggles, and Camelbak. I'm sure
MacGyver could have built me everything I needed out of plywood, Bazooka gum and the shirt
off my back, but I certainly didn't have the skills. So I checked my watch, did some math and
figured that if I turned around and drove like hell, I could make it home, grab the box, and get
back to the race site just before signup ended. Which is exactly what I did.
Steve Weible was about 2 minutes from pulling the plug on the scanner when I showed up at
the signup table. At that point I was sort of in a semi-haze, just trying to get the bike and gear
unloaded, get dressed, warm up the bike and get to the starting line in time. With beautiful
weather, all the fair-weather racers came out of the woodwork to ride what was billed as the
last race to be held at this location. After 20 consecutive years of holding hare scrambles
here, the MHSC will give other clubs the opportunity to be on the schedule in 2003.
In the four years I've been racing at Steelville, the course has changed very little. The only
deviation that stood out this year was routing the trail around the manure pile, instead of
straight through it. You would think that after 4 years of racing the same course, I would at
some point figure out how to ride it. But once again, I would only be able to muster a top-third
finish in my class. With so much racing on the same path, the trails get choppier every year.
My legs were not in shape to stand up 90% of the time, which seems to be the only way to ride
fast there. On the first lap I got behind Dave Gerbes ("Davey") and Keith Kibort and followed
them for awhile. On a long uphill, I tried an aggressive pass on Dave and found myself
heading for a rock about the size of a truck tire. I cut to the inside of the rock and basically
shoved Dave out of the way (sorry). He passed me back later on (and much more
courteously), after I stalled out in a tight, rocky section. At some point I got back around him,
but then at the end of the second lap, Dave caught his second wind as he flew by me in the
pit area like I was standing still. After that I never saw him again. So I went from 3rd near the
end of lap 2, to 6th at the end of my third and final lap. With riders in our class spaced so
closely, the fall I took on the last lap probably cost me a couple places. On one of the many
off-camber climbs, I got a bit sideways and hit a tree, and the bike end up pointed down the
hill. It took some time to get started and get back on the trail. A small mistake, but costly.
Even though my results were disappointing, I had fun and rode safely. I'll miss Steelville...sort
of.
