 |  |  |
DNF
With bike maintenance, and maybe life in general, sometimes I don't see the big picture. I'll
drill down to the minutia of trying to get the clutch lever to stop flopping around the pivot bolt,
all the while failing to notice the engine has virtually no compression. Actually, I knew the bike
was kicking over a little too easily at Eugene, but it still fired up, so where's the problem with
that? When I hooked up with my buddy Jeff Smith at Flat River in late-September, the old bike
wouldn't start (I knew there was a reason to have two bikes!) and the subsequent engine
tear-down produced the culprit: ring-end gap of approximately 0.090". No, that's not a misprint
and yes, it was just a smidgen above the recommended gap of 0.020". Also, one of the hose
connections at the bottom of the right-side radiator was severely kinked, which explained the
coolant loss after Eugene. So I had ridden Eugene on a bike with virtually no compression
and a radiator leak, and somehow finished 20th overall. Any bike that can survive my harsh
riding style and 8th grade shop class mechanical ability is tougher than Brett Favre with a
handful of painkillers.
When I put the finishing touches on the top-end job at about 9:00 p.m. the night before the
White City enduro, I noticed that one of the cylinder head bolts wouldn't tighten down to
torque specs*. I thought, what the heck, it's snug enough and there's 5 other bolts to hold
down the head and I want to race tomorrow! To hell with the head bolt! With the garage doors
closed so as not to annoy the neighbors any more than usual, the bike fired up. Sunday
morning at 6:30 a.m., the bike fired up again. With mostly dry weather the past month, never
was there a better opportunity to finish the White City enduro for the first time ever.
*note to '99 KTM riders: do NOT tighten the head bolts to the KTM owner's manual specs
of 35 N-m. Wrong, wrong, wrong!! The '02 owner's manual shows 18 N-m....now that's
more like it.
Upon arrival, I was pleasantly surprised to see an 18-mph average on the route sheet. As
usual, the total miles were high enough that finishing would require 6 hours in the saddle.
That is just a long freakin' time. Naturally I didn't bother to bring an 18-mph roll chart, so I took
my 24-mph chart and modified it accordingly. The result was a 12-foot long, 3-inch wide
chicken-scratch-filled paper that looked more like a chart from a seismograph than a roll chart
for an enduro. No fancy-dancy computers for this guy. I was on minute 20, which would be far
enough back for the earlier riders to blaze a nicely defined trail. The good news this year was
that the gas stops were both at the club grounds, meaning that I wouldn't have to beg
someone to take out my gas jug to some remote location.
Three of us began on the 20th row, and I let one of the guys lead for the first 5 miles or so.
The route started in the club grounds, which, when dry, are some of the best trails I've ever
ridden. The lead guy let me pass when I started to get my groove on, and soon Jeff Fredette,
freshly back from the ISDE in the Czech Republic, caught up to me as he always does.
Watching him is ride is seeing grace in motion...he really makes it look easy. We left the club
grounds after about 8.5 miles and headed out to the remote trails on the Mount Olive side of
I-55. The 18-mph average kept speeds down on the road sections, and I had time to stop for
a snack and witness Fredette showing perfect form while on his knees, balancing his bike in a
ditch while taking a leak. All those years of experience, paying off yet again for the crafty
veteran.
The club grounds were like a 4-lane highway compared to the outlying trails in the next 20
miles, with mostly first and second gear stuff. The dirt was just perfect, slightly damp with
plenty of traction, and easy to ride smoothly in. After each reset, the tighter it got, the quicker
Fredette caught up to me. I was enjoying myself and counting down the miles to my first-ever
finish of this old-school enduro, imagining the satisfaction of riding 100 miles in a
day...WHAM...thump...what the hell??!? Is that my bike on the ground 20 feet ahead of me?
Why am I sitting on the ground with a sore ass? Oh yeah, tree. Big tree. Should have ducked
a little lower. In a daze, I walked up the trail to my bike as a couple of guys asked if I was O.K.
and I gave them the thumbs up, even though I couldn't see straight. The bike was on its side,
engine still running and back wheel spinning in second gear. I pulled in the clutch, righted the
bike and continued onward in a slight haze. A few minutes my later my head cleared and I was
back...I was sooo back. Trees be damned, I was going to finish.
During most of the race I had been detecting a slight aroma of antifreeze, and during one of
the road sections after my tree encounter, I stopped to look at the cylinder head. I didn't like
what I saw. Coolant was seeping out the head bolt that had been stripped, although it didn't
appear that I was losing much. Even so, I didn't want to risk overheating, especially when I
could be many miles from the club grounds if and when it happened. The last road section
before the gas stop led back to the club grounds, and just before checking into the woods I
took one last look at the cylinder head. A couple more miles (and another pass by Fredette)
and I was back at my truck, giving one last thought to continuing. I didn't...beaten again. But it
was a great day. For the club, the turnout was very disappointing, with only 55 guys riding.
Apparently the previous two years scared away many. But I will be back. And I will finish.
October 27, 2002
Knob Noster, Misouri
1st of 8 in Open B
Fifteen races, and it all came down to this.
Actually, only a few class winners were determined at the 16th and final round of the 2002
Missouri Hare Scrambles Championship. Most notably, the overall champion would be
crowned on this day, with the battle between Steve Leivan and Brandon Forrester culminating
with a final showdown. The highly competitive Vet class winner would also be determined, with
Kevin Ruckdeschell in the driver's seat, and the Junior class also came down to the wire.
Throughout the year, the MHSC has been testing a new scoring method in which plastic
cards, about the size of a credit card, are placed under helmet visors. A PVC pipe contraption
rigged up to the scoring trailer detects the cards as riders pass through. The cards take the
place of bar code stickers, so there's no manual scanning involved. As I found out while
attempting to run the scanner at Smithville Lake, there is a certain technique to its operation,
which can lead to scoring errors. With the cards, it's all automatic. A sampling of riders had
been using the cards in past races, but today everyone would get a plastic card duct-taped to
the underside of their helmet visors. What happens if your visor gets ripped off your helmet,
you ask? "Better go back and find it," said Tom Eidam.
After I signed up and received my card, I walked down to the big creek to check out the water
level. The Knob Noster area had apparently been dry for some time, as the creek was fairly
low and easily passable, unlike last year when it was just high enough to make for an
uncomfortable crossing. I suited up with an extra jersey and shivered in the 45-degree air,
hoping my bike would start after its second engine tear-down in two weeks. It came to life after
a few good kicks and I began my practice lap.
What I found on the trails was pure joy. The course was nearly identical to White City the
previous week, with twisty trails on loamy ground with very few rocks. Most of the woods could
be ridden at a very fast pace in second and third gear, except for two drop-downs into small,
narrow creek beds that were first gear and a lot of clutch. The first creek bed run was
relatively short, but the second run was longer and tougher and ended with a rock garden,
just to remind everyone that we were still in Missouri. Anyone caught behind a slower rider
would have no choice but to follow. The 9-mile course had a few wide-open areas and a small
track laid out in an open field, but no major obstacles. Today, everyone could ride at an
aggressive pace.
Back at the truck, once again I smelled antifreeze on the bike, but this time it was just the
radiator bleed bolt that I forgot to tighten. The heli-coil was doing its job in the cylinder and the
bike was running perfectly. My fingertips were cold, so I switched to winter gloves and headed
to the starting area to wait in the cold for our row to start. The Open B class was about 7 rows
back, which meant a total of around 15 minutes on the line trying to shake off the chill and get
a good view of the other classes starting their races. On my left was Dwayne Parrish, riding a
KTM 300MXC, and Pat Welch was on my right with his big 520SX. When the board dropped, I
had to two-kick the bike and went into the first corner in the back of the pack. The trail
wandered in and around the pit area before crossing the big creek. I charged through the
creek and passed Pat, sending a nice cool splash of water his way, but he immediately
passed me back in the open area on the opposite side. My 300 was no match for his big
4-stroke and with watered-up goggles I followed him in a train of riders that included Dwayne
and Marty Smith. Pat eventually let me by, but Dwayne and Marty were riding strong. I had a
chance to get by Marty on a tricky hill that had two lines to the top, but I foolishly followed him
while he spun out on some rocks at the top. We both lost momentum but Marty recovered as I
continued to spin, so I had to play catch-up. Pat passed me in the long stretch of narrow
creek bed after I got hung up on a nasty tree root. The bike fell over upside-down and I had to
drag it out of the way. At the end of the first lap, Dwayne checked in first, followed by Marty
and then me. Pat and Wayne Hatfield were another 30 seconds back.
I was finally able to get around Marty near the end of lap two, where we crossed the big creek
for the second time. I learned from my previous mistake and took a different line up the creek
bank, which was just enough of an advantage to get around him and focus on Dwayne. I took
the lead just before the scoring trailer, but lurking behind me was Wayne, who passed me
somewhere in the third lap. By then, I was starting to encounter traffic as we began lapping
riders. Other than a few deep ruts in creek banks, the trail held up very well for the entire
race, so the fast guys kept going fast. Just after the first woods check on the fourth lap, the
AA's were already lapping me. Steve Levian and Doug Stone had set a blistering pace, with
Brandon Forrester close behind. I got around Wayne somewhere in that fourth lap, but he
was on my back tire when we passed through the scoring trailer to start our fifth and final lap. I
put just a small amount of distance on him, but then got caught behind a slow rider in the long
stretch of narrow creek. After the long creek run, passing was still a challenge. I rode hard for
the last lap and could see Wayne behind me when I came through the last section of grass
track around the pits. Once again, I took the win, but the margin was only 15 seconds. As the
lap times showed, everyone was riding fast at Knob Noster. The top 25 overall finishers
included exactly one person who wasn't an A or AA rider. Funny how perfect conditions can
bring out the best in bikes and riders.
The overall winner was Steve Leivan, who also took home the series with his victory. Doug
Stone placed second while Brandon Forrester, poised to de-throne Leivan as King of the
MHSC, suffered a mechanical problem and finished as runner-up for the series. The final
standings will be permanently marked with controversy, as Forrester was denied his request
to work the Knob Noster race and earn work average points that would have given him the
overall championship. But congratulations are well-deserved for Leivan, who came back from
nasty off-season injuries to win the series against some very tough odds. Congrats are also in
order for K-Ruck, who secured the Vet class series with his 4th place finish.
For me, the 2002 season brought the most success I've ever had, with 5 MHSC class wins
and the Open B series win. A milestone this year was three top-20 overall finishes in the
MHSC, which left me tied for 49th overall in the series. The only real disappointment was not
finishing that friggin' White City enduro for the 4th year in a row. People ask me where the
speed came from this year, but there's no magic to it. I kept the mistakes to a minimum, added
some new aggression to my riding style (as Adam Ashcroft can attest to), and built up a pretty
good resistance to the summer heat. But the real success this year was no visits to my
friendly doctor, who probably wonders why I don't come around anymore.
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See you next year....
