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MHSC Round #10
August 22, 2004
Newark, MO
5th of 9 in A Sportsman
For me, the “hell” part of Hell’s Holler began two weeks prior to the event while helping Gary
Mittleberg & Co. break in the trails for the race. Led by Gary’s son Cameron, we were slowly
making our way around what turned out to be a 15-mile loop, most of which was new
singletrack. Cameron regularly sacrificed his bike and body for the discovery of obstacles
hidden under the brush. I did my part, too. About 11 miles into the loop, I passed by what
appeared to be a harmless log lying parallel to the trail. At the exact instant I attempted to up-
shift into second gear, the end of my left boot met a broken-off branch sticking out of the log.
Once this sharp branch got hold of my boot, the foot peg was right behind it. I came to an
abrupt halt, my boot wedged between the branch and the foot peg. Yeah, it hurt.
At first I thought it was just a bruise. When the pain didn't go away and I couldn't put much
pressure on my foot, I had worse thoughts - the kind where you’re not sure if you want to take
off your boot for fear of what you might see. After a slow mile in first gear, I took a shortcut
back to my truck and called it a day. On the way there I had to scale Joust Hill, so named for a
tree branch on the way up that had once jousted a certain rider off his bike. The alternate
route I took around Joust Hill had me nearly stuck to my axles in a muddy swamp, but
somehow the rounded knobs of my KTM’s rear tire, the same beaten rubber I’d used for all
100 miles of the Leadbelt Enduro, pushed me through it. After a couple attempts I was able to
scale the hill and return to my truck.
The next day a foot X-ray confirmed my suspicions: a toe was broken. For being such a small
little bone, it sure did hurt. But like last year with my sprained ankle, the pain gradually
subsided and I passed the final test the night before the race: I could push my foot into the
boot and shift gears, so I was going racing. I picked up Matt in Wentzville and we arrived to a
gorgeous day at the Miller farm. While pulling in next to #500 Marty Smith, one small problem
became evident almost immediately: my left rear tire was flatter than the hair of a Republican
National Convention speaker. While Matt bummed a Camelbak from Marty, I borrowed his
floor jack and mounted the spare (which, to my surprise, was still filled with air). Little did I
know that whatever I ran over had also punctured both right-side tires. That would become
evident following a business trip three days later, when I returned to the St. Louis airport to
find the truck sagging noticeably to the right.
Gary had shortened the course to 10.5 miles and removed a couple of hills that could have
been tough to climb for the ascensionally challenged. On the practice lap I hooked up with
#250 Adam Ashcroft and #644 Carl Dobson, each of us taking turns leading. Even though it
was well marked, the trail was challenging to follow. We had done our best to break in the
course two weeks prior, but the 100 or more riders taking a practice run would make it much
easier to follow once the race began.
The start of the course was in a pasture, and I was a little slow off the line. Normally the board
drops after it’s turned sideways and “15” (seconds) is visible. This time, the board never
turned and it was dropped while still showing “30”. I was near the back of the pack as we
entered the woods but soon found myself in a group of riders that included #237 Elston
Moore and #38 Todd Corwin. We were packed tightly for most of the first lap, each of us
looking for a little shortcut or slight bobble that could get us in front. I finally worked my to the
third or fourth position as we neared the end of the first lap at Joust Hill. At the top of the hill,
the trail veered left but I turned too soon and got hung up on a log. Several guys passed me
there and I was in 6th place at the scoring trailer.
On the second lap I caught up to the guys who’d passed me at the top of Joust Hill and once
again we rode as a group for most of the lap. The trail flowed really well and was a blast to
ride. Even more fun was the position-swapping of Todd, Elston and I on both the second and
third laps. So much went on that I can’t remember where it all happened, but I got around
Elston once when we missed a turn that should have dropped us down into a creek for about
200 feet. I had missed the same turn on the first lap but luckily saw Todd popping up out of
the creek and had dropped in behind him. The same thing happened on lap 2, except Elston
turned back around to find the trail and I kept going straight until the arrows reappeared (yes,
it was a sucker pass). After getting around Elston and #503 Steve Dean, I put a hard pass on
Todd coming off a steep, slick hill with a sharp left turn at the bottom. Later he got back
around me, but I passed Todd again by taking a higher line through a trail that followed the
bottom of a ravine. After section was a high-speed, straight-line run through a pasture and
somehow the KX had enough speed to fend off Todd’s KTM thumper.
Although I checked into the scoring trailer in the 3rd position at the end of lap 2, Todd and
Elston quickly passed me on the grass track to start the third lap. The position swapping
continued, though. At some point I passed Todd again, but then he passed me in the same
ravine where I had got around him on the previous lap. For some reason I chose to take Todd’
s original route, and he took the higher line. After that, I could feel some fatigue coming on,
thanks to two weeks of inactivity. My toe didn't bother me much during the race, but I didn't
have the stamina to maintain Todd and Elston’s pace for the whole race. I stayed moderately
close to them on the third lap, but my fourth lap was noticeably slower.
I lost about a minute on the final lap when a guy got hung up on a short hill. Another guy was
ahead of me, waiting for the first guy to move out of the way. I suggested that he go up the hill
around the guy on the right, which he tried and failed. I decided to show him how it’s done and
made it about two feet further before losing traction and falling over. By the time I picked up
the bike and readied myself for another attempt, the first guy was off the trail and out of the
way.
I finished the race a couple minutes behind Elston and Todd, who were barely out of sight of
each other for over two hours. Slade Morlang continued his charge toward the A+ class by
winning our class and finishing 9th overall. Steve Leivan clinched his 12th MHSC
championship with the overall win.
September 5, 2004
Kahoka, Missouri
13th of 15 in 250A (4th of 5 in MHSC A Sportsman)
Once every five years or so, when the stars and planets align properly over Kahoka, Missouri,
the soil dries up and hare scramblers rejoice. I had raced here five times previously under
every type of condition imaginable, from frigid cold (1996), extreme heat (1999), rain and mud
(2002-03) and that single day of near perfection (2001). In 2004 impeccable weather returned
for the Mulekicker National Hare Scramble at its familiar spot at the Burkhart farm.
Matt and I parked next to Team RocketRacing.net, where I collected two trophies before the
race even began. John Yarnell had been saving my 6th place plaque from the Leadbelt
Enduro back in May, while Gary Mittleberg had been holding on to my 2nd place trophy from
Florence in July. A third trophy wasn't in the cards, as I signed up for the 250A class and had
no expectations of earning any hardware. The dual-sanctioned Mulekicker scores points for
both the MHSC and the AMA National series, but the “regular” MHSC riders have their scores
tallied separately after the race. Riders enter their classes based on AMA rules, but
regardless of the class entered for the National event, each MHSC rider gets scored in
whatever class they've been running during the year.
Matt and I took a walk around the farmstead that serves as the Mulekicker’s staging area,
admiring the high dollar rigs that always show up for these events. We admired a KX65
entered in the mini race that probably had more money in it than my own bike. Special
admiration went out to Kiefer Rosier and his wicked crash on the motocross track (he
remounted, took the lead and the win). But in a big-picture sense, the most admirable part of
the whole experience was mostly a reflection of the obvious: near Kahoka, Missouri is a
farmhouse with a friggin’ near-national-caliber motocross track in its back yard. No cows, no
pigs, no crops, just a motocross track.
In the pasture where we gathered for the start of the race, the 250A’s were lined up behind
the Pro class on the second row. I always enjoy observing the varied routines of the guys who
make their living doing what I love. On one extreme was Andy Shea with his umbrella
girl/girlfriend who, I might add, was genuinely talented. His Kawasaki sparkled and his body
was fully shaded while we waited for Aaron Shaw to change a fouled plug. On the opposite
side of the Pro’s row, both literally and figuratively, was Shane Watts, the gifted Australian with
a recent knack for untimely injuries. Had he been wearing anything but a chest protector with
“Watts” imprinted on its backside, he could have lined up in a middle row and drawn little
attention.
My two-kick start put me well in the back of the pack, a spot in where I pretty much expected to
be anyway. The 250A’s seem to be the most competitive of the various “A” classes, with some
of the participants within shouting distance of the Pro’s. We began in the same open field as
in past races, turned left to follow the fence line of the pit area, then made a brief pass
through the motocross track before entering the woods. All of this happened at warp speed. I
caught up to #250 Adam Ashcroft and passed him while we curved around the other side of
the pits. Without the traditional MHSC warm-up lap I was a bit out of focus on the first lap. The
pack didn't spread out much when we entered the first of the singletrack and I was
concentrating more on the bike in front of me than on what was coming up ahead. The course
never stayed inside the woods for more than a mile, so it was a constant high-speed, low-
speed ride around what had been advertised as a 10-mile course. Near the midpoint, we
entered the motocross track for a 300-yard down-and-up straightaway with a couple of jumps
on the downside. Travis Green, an appropriately named Kawasaki rider from Ohio, caught up
to me from the 200A row and launched his bike high into the air. Landings are soft on the
Kahoka track and Travis didn't slow down for the second jump. He was long gone by the time I
made it back into the woods.
The second half of the course was more open than the first, thanks to an abundance of grass
tracks. This year I haven’t loathed the fast pasture sections as much on the KX, with its
motocross-style hit and confidence-inspiring brakes. Solely through attrition I worked my way
up to the 12th spot at the end of the first full lap. The field had spread out by this time, which
meant I had to begin focusing on the trail in front, rather than the back tire of the guy ahead
of me. After two years of muddy Mulekickers, the dry course was full of the chop left over from
endless ruts. The worst of it was in front of the pits, just before entering the motocross track
for the final time on each lap. It was a straight line to the track, but fast and incredibly rough.
Some guys were trying to pit along the fence line that separated the course from the staging
area, which added further complications.
Since I’d been told the course was 10 miles, I planned to stop for gas after the third lap. I
assumed that would be just shy of two hours into the race. Even though my body was ready
for a rest after three laps, after checking through the scoring trailer my watch showed I’d
barely ridden an hour. My lap times were just north of 20 minutes, but it was still hard for me
to believe I could do 10 miles that quickly. I smacked the watch that was wrapped around my
handlebars to make sure it hadn't performed its trick of switching modes to “Alarm”. No
problems there, so I did some more math and figured I could wait until I’d completed 5 laps
before gassing.
Near the middle of the 5th lap, I came up behind a train of lappers that included #369 Jim
Walker of RocketRacing.net. Naturally it happened just before the longest stretch of limited
passing opportunities. Other than pull over and stop, there wasn't much any of the guys
ahead of me could do except keep on riding. Eventually our pack grew to include Shane
Watts, who had taken over the lead on that lap. Even he, the master lapper passer, couldn't
find any way to get around our group. When we came to the motocross track, Watts checked
out with Chuck Woodford just a few seconds behind. Jason Raines was also making a charge,
with he and Cole Calkins right behind Watts and Woodford.
Lurking behind me was Adam Ashcroft, who up to that point had been a couple minutes back
for most of the race. My gas stop at the beginning of the 6th lap was just lengthy enough for
him to pass me while I screwed on the gas cap. I followed him closely for about half the lap,
then decided to attempt a pass by going through a minor mud hole that everyone else was
avoiding. I didn't quite have the momentum to get through my chosen rut, but Glen Osia,
working the race, gave my forks a tug and pulled me out. Adam was still ahead and I tried to
keep him in sight. When we entered the motocross track for the second time on that lap, at
each turn he was about a hundred yards ahead and maintained that distance when we
neared the scoring trailer. Surprisingly, the white flag was already out. I had expected to do 8
laps, but my 7th would be my last. So I made a decision: I must pass Adam.
I used to think I was only capable of riding at 100% speed 100% of the time. All this talk from
the Pro’s about pacing themselves during the race, keeping the lead guys in sight and then
making a last-lap charge to the finish, I didn't get it. And for the most part, I still don’t. But once
I decided I had to catch Adam, it was on, baby! With one lap to go, I summoned what little
energy was left in my beat up body and got aggressive. On the previous couple of laps I had
slowed to 23 minutes, about a minute longer than what I’d done with a fresh body on the first
two laps. But my final charge whittled the last lap down to a respectable 22:19. I took a chance
on the motocross track, passing Adam near the spot and in the same style that Travis Green
had launched himself by me on the first lap (a “Bubba” pass, as Adam would later describe it).
On our second pass through the motocross track I could see Adam a few turns behind. He got
closer when I re-entered the woods and slid out around a corner. But the engine kept running
and so did I. With dehydration chills passing through my body, I finished the race just in front
of Adam.
Jason Raines took the overall win, with Shane Watts in second. Top Missouri finishers were
Chris Thiele in 6th and Steve Leivan in 7th. In the MHSC-only scoring, I was fourth in A
Sportsman and 24th overall.
