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Newark, Missouri
2nd of 13 in Open B
The ninth installment of the MHSC series officially brought in the Dog Days of Summer, with a
spankin' new location near Newark. The northwest corner of Missouri is a kinder, gentler
place than the lower half of the state, and with this new venue came brand new trails and
temperatures in the mid-90's. Gary Mittelberg & Co. laid out a 9.5-mile course that was just
about perfect, with a good combination of fast woods, tight, technical stuff, and some open
fields.
Matt and I drove up early (for us) and baked in the sun most of the morning. Like my
homeboy Nelly, it was gettin' hot in therre, so I took off all my clothes. Actually it was just the
shirt, but unaware spectators were given no warning. The painful glare was too much for
some who inadvertently caught a glimpse of the effulgence (it's a word, really) that is my pale,
white chest. As I'm writing this nearly two weeks later, I'm still peeling large, thin sheets of
dead skin off my shoulders (note to self: next time pack the sunblock, the thick stuff that
spreads on like mayonnaise. Or maybe just pack mayonnaise.).
The heat kept attendance down a bit, as evidenced by a relatively short line for signup. We
ran across fast-guy Lars Valin, who had recently qualified for the International Six Days
Enduro to be held in the Czech Republic later this year. He's such a modest guy that his
buddy had to encourage him to tell us about this awesome news. While in line, we had a
clear view of the ATV's coming through the scoring trailer. Despite the hot and dusty
conditions, we saw many ATV's pass by plastered in mud, further proof that in these parts
you can be blinded by dust and swamp mud, both in the same race.
The practice lap began with a quarter-mile of wet, sandy creek bed that was already
deteriorating from the few bikes that had passed through ahead of us. Next up was an
off-camber singletrack section that ended with a short, steep climb that two guys were hung
up on. The potential bottlenecks were adding up, and we had barely gone a mile down the
trail. Since the course was completely new, we followed the arrows as best we could but still
got off the course many times. We saw a surprising amount of sand and a couple more
potential problem areas before completing the course about 40 minutes after we started.
The race organizers recognized the nasty spots and did an excellent job of re-routing and
re-marking some of the trails. On the starting line, the Open B class was placed several rows
back, which gave me just enough time to notice a hole in my fuel line. Not a big one, but just
enough to wet the line. The few minutes in which I contemplated my alternatives reminded me
of a comment from my buddy Bill Steele, after my clutch perch bolt fell out approximately 30
seconds into the Jonesboro, Illinois hare scramble in 2000: "Maybe you should come up with
some sort of pre-race maintenance routine." Note to self: add "Replace fuel line more
frequently than once every 5 years" to the pre-race maintenance routine.
I took my usual mid-pack position at the first turn and saw Matt jump out a few places ahead
of me. We immediately crossed a creek and did a high-speed run through the pasture on the
other side, and then dropped back down in the creek. The worst of the creek section that we
had ridden on the practice lap had been removed, but enough remained I was completely
covered with sand by the time we exited that section. The downside to wearing fully vented
jerseys is that the sand goes right through the mesh and slides down into my pants. That
combined with a gripper seat cover and my aversion to standing while I ride, sitting down
bare-assed on a belt sander is probably the best comparison I can offer.
I moved up a couple spots in the first half of the course and passed Matt somewhere in there.
The trail was now much better defined, and I had little trouble navigating the course. Most of
the terrain was a dry, light loam that offered great traction throughout the woods. That
traction was very helpful on one hill that was the steepest I've seen in the MHSC series this
year. The hill was made even more challenging because of a tree root lying across the trail
just before the summit, which meant that any lack of momentum would leave riders with rear
tires spinning helplessly on the root, followed by a lengthy slide back down the hill. I made it
each time, but others were less fortunate. The course contained exactly one rock, about the
size of a football, placed directly in the center of an off-camber trail. Needless to say, I hit the
darned thing every single time.
As usual, I had no idea what position I was in after the first lap, but I felt good about my riding.
Lap two was more of the same, with no major mistakes but I began to feel the heat. About
halfway into that lap I could hear what sounded like an 80cc bike screaming behind me, which
was motivation enough to ignore the heat and keep riding hard. (the Junior class winner, had
he continued at his blistering pace for 4 laps, would have beaten about half of guys in all of
the B classes). I was surprisingly consistent on the second and third laps and remained in
2nd place (barely). On my fourth and final lap, I kept up the pace and finished strong. Matt
finished just a few minutes behind me in 4th place with his strongest ride of the year.
Brandon Forrester was leading Steve Leivan by less than a bike length when they lapped me
near the end, and that's how they finished overall. A pair of fast guys named Chris - Thiele
and Nesbitt - were a couple minutes off the pace and finished 3rd and 4th, respectively. Matt
Coffman, our soon-should-be A class guy, had no trouble spanking the Open B class, with lap
times 2 minutes quicker than mine. Overall, this new location was fantastic and I hope to see
it on the schedule next year.
July 14, 2002
Tebbetts, Missouri
3rd of 16 in Open B
So I was standing in the signup line at the Missouri speedway also known as the Tebbetts
race course, when I glanced down at what appeared to be flat, white rocks. Except they
weren't rocks, they were tombstones, many from the 1850's. Scattered around the
tombstones were bones...seriously. Leg bones, vertebrae, and a nearly complete skull.
Animal bones, no doubt, but still Blair-Witch-creepy, man. How's a guy supposed to focus on
racing when you're stepping on dead people, huh?
Superstitions aside, the Tebbetts course is always fast, but last year was slowed down a little
with a couple miles of tight new singletrack. This year, the singletrack was gone and the
course was its old, insanely fast self. The practice lap revealed many of the same trails as
past years, including a long, rocky creek bed and some wide open pasture sections, along
with some natural jumps that would make RC happy.
On the start, I was in the middle of the 16-rider pack going into the dusty first turn. The first
obstacle was a small ravine, where PizzaMan took an inside line and got around me. That
line seemed pretty rough on the practice lap, and apparently the distraction of PizzaMan's
skills through that section caused me to stall the engine at the bottom of the ravine. Hello,
back of the pack. Last place, to be exact. I caught up quickly, fought through some dust, and
finally found PizzaMan in a section of woods that had recently been logged. I managed to get
around him and kept working my way through the pack. For some reason the long, rocky
creek bed didn't give me any problems this year, and I was actually passing people through
that section (thank you, Scotts steering damper).
Near the end of the second lap, I pulled my roll-offs to clear my vision, felt some resistance,
pulled a little harder, and was left with the string hanging in my hand. So much for clear
vision. When we crossed the gravel road next to the property entrance, I yanked off my
goggles, threw them in the grass, and fought the dust for the rest of the race. It wasn't so
bad in the woods, but the open areas were horrible with dust in my eyes. On the third lap, I
was following a couple of slower riders and looking for a way to pass. I took a shortcut
through some standing water that was a bit deeper than I thought, and the huge splash
completely drenched me. Not sure if it was the shortcut or the distraction of a whale-sized
belly flop in the creek that got me around the guys I was trying to pass, but the dust cleared
from my eyes and I felt a whole lot cooler.
One of the highlights of the course has always been the terraces in the pasture around the
staging area, which double as motocross-sized jumps. One set of terraces parallel to the
gravel road had a drop-down, then a quick jump that kicked the bike sideways in midair. Lots
of fun in 4th gear and dust in my eyes. I did four 11-mile laps, each one in about 32-33
minutes. As always, third place at a course as fast as Tebbetts was as good as a victory for
me. Steve Leivan took the overall win with a blistering pace, followed by Brandon Forrester.
