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Home of Friendly Trails
White City, Illinois
3rd in +30A
Looking back at the 86 events I've entered and reported on during my time here in St. Louis,
White City is the only venue that I've attended at least once every year. At each race, I either
love it or hate it, but more often than not I have a great time. Sunday's race had the makings
of a tough challenge after steady rains on Saturday, but the showers fell sparingly over the
Cahokia Creek club grounds and the course was in good shape.
Like most of our trips across the river in Illinois, Matt was less than enthusiastic about racing
in what we expected would be mud. Don't get me wrong, anyone who is kind enough to e-mail
me photos of panty-less Hilton sisters has got to be flowing with testosterone, but sometimes
Matt sounds like a girl when it comes to riding wet Illinois trails. When we arrived at the club
grounds, the sun was shining and the course looked to be in better condition than we had
expected. The light rains from the day before left the exposed surfaces slick, but we guessed
that after one lap the course would tack up and offer plenty of traction. In some places the
club had been thoughtful enough to remove crab apples from the main line of the trail.
Anyone who's ever had a surprise encounter with those green, soft-ball-sized bastards can
appreciate their removal.
To the east of the staging area was a little 5-turn dirt track that served as a warm-up area for
the bikes. The KX really does love to be thrown into a berm wide open, but a motocross bike
rarely gets ridden to its full potential by a to-the-core woods rider like me. To put it mildly, I'd
suck at a Six Days enduro. That brief ride would be the only warm-up for the bike and my
already pumped-up arms, since there are no practice laps at Cahokia Creek. At the rider's
meeting, it was announced that the course would be 10.7 miles long and we should "stay on
the grass track." As I would find out later, there was a good reason for that warning.
At the starting line I took a position on the right side of the first row, which included all the
various A classes. To my right, I saw fast guy John Yarnell riding a '03 KX250, just like me.
Yarnell picked up his new ride at about the same time I did during the summer and naturally,
his looked prettier than mine. I'm fairly certain it had seen less time on its side or upside down
against a tree, like my poor KX during its inaugural ride at St. Joe State Park after a crash that
had left Matt particularly impressed (I believe in complete break-in rides that should include
the destruction of at least one major bike component). My KX fired up easily as the flag
dropped, and I sprinted straight ahead to a narrow opening in the woods, about 100 yards
ahead. Of the 15 or so guys in the front row, I entered the woods somewhere in the middle.
Just inside the woods, a couple riders passed me by cutting off a slick corner. Matt and I had
seen the shortcut while walking the course beforehand, but thinking like the smart racer I am
not, I didn't want to give away this great secret. After all, I would surely need that shortcut later
in the race, after dicing with the fast guys for several laps, so why reveal my superior
knowledge of the course any sooner than I needed to?
Reality set in when at least 5 guys took the shortcut. So much for secrets. The group of riders
ahead of me quickly distanced themselves while I tried to stay ahead of a screaming Zach
Bryant-like small-bore 2-stroke behind me. I soon gave up and let the guy around. After that, I
was pretty much on my own.
Roughly one-third of the course was on the opposite side of the highway that paralleled the
club grounds. We had passed under the road bridge over Cahokia Creek and crossed the
creek a mile or so later. The toughest hill on the course was just after the creek crossing, but
it wasn't much of a problem in dry dirt (I've scaled that hill when the course was muddy, and
it's a bear of a climb). By this time my arms were severely pumped up, and the stiff pull of the
KX's clutch lever was wearing on me. But by the time we passed back under the highway
bridge, I had relaxed enough that I didn't notice my arms very much for the rest of the race.
The White City course is mostly smooth dirt when dry or sloppy mud when wet, but it does
have very brief sand whoops along the creek and some Missouri-style rocks around the road
bridge. But these sections were just a tiny fraction of the beautiful trails that had been laid out
for this race. After crossing the creek a second time, a couple guys caught up and passed
me. A few minutes later I overshot a turn, had some trouble getting turned around, and two
more guys passed me. I was able to catch up to this second pair of riders and re-passed one
of them by taking an inside line down a steep hill, but I followed the other guy closely for the
rest of the lap.
Somewhere in the middle of the club grounds is a large grassy area that has been used
minimally for past races, usually just the perimeter. This time, a long grass track had been laid
out. When I say long, I mean really, really long....probably two continuous miles. Due to its
length, it was not staked out with yellow ribbon, which is why we were warned to stay on the
established path (spotters were on hand to keep riders reasonably on course). Back inside
the woods, the course ended after another mile or so. The guy I had been following the
second half of the lap checked in through the "A" barrels and continued moving along at an
aggressive pace. I couldn't get close enough to make a pass in the trails north of the highway
and as usual, I followed his lines in places where I should have known there were shortcuts.
About half of the second lap was spent trying to find a way around, but then he appeared to
tire out a bit. After planting my front tire next to his leg a couple times, he let me around just
before a muddy section that cut through a field of 6-foot-tall reeds. I was able to make it
through this section without incident, unlike my first time through when I slid out around a
corner. Soon enough, I was all by myself in the woods.
On the third lap I encountered the first group of lappers who were kind enough to clear out of
the way. I felt like I was making good time but pushing a bit beyond my comfort zone. This was
confirmed just after the second creek crossing, on a well-traveled line up a hill that was
chopped up from previous mud races. Both of my feet slipped off the pegs and I rode most of
the way up the hill superman-style with my only my arms attached to the bike and the "twins"
smacking against the rear fender. With that, I backed off a little and finished the lap without
incident.
The fourth and final lap was more of the same. Fun trails, at this point plenty tacky, and the
bike continued running perfectly. I had upped the rebound damping on both ends after feeling
a little too much bounce at Warrensburg, and apparently it did the trick. I didn't notice the
suspension at all during the race, other than the fact that it was there and it was doing exactly
what I paid W.E.R. to make it do. At the grass track I slowly reeled in a guy on a Gas Gas and
passed him just before we entered the last mile of woods. Somewhere in the KX literature I
read that it has some sort of two-stage power valve, and on the grass track I could feel the
second stage kick in. Each time the engine reached this point, it would try to make the back
tire spin on the grass in 5th gear. Very cool. And I continued to be impressed with the KX's
stability at speed. I've got it geared with a 14/50 sprocket combo, which gives me nearly the
same final gear ratios as my 300MXC, but somehow it seems a bit faster on top. Or maybe the
lack of headshake just makes me feel like I'm riding faster. Either way, it felt good.
I ended the race in 3rd place in the +30A class and had money coming if I'd stuck around. But
my ride was leaving. Even so, it was nice to be home by 4:00 and have time to wash the bike
and gear and reflect on another fun race at White City.
