Race 5 .. Vega HS
The Vega race was one that I was looking forward to. I had seen helmet cam footage from previous years and it looked like there would be a good bit of sand. This worked for me since I had learned to ride in the sand, and as a kid often would ride my '79 Suzuki DS80 in sand pits. This would be like going back in time only now I’m older, in worse shape, on a faster bike, in a race and on trails I don’t know!
The night before the race we were treated to some truly awesome barrel racing. Not the traditional barrel racing with horses, this was Redneck Dirt Biker Barrel racing! Barrel racing with horsepower!
2 racers would line up and race across an open field of sand, 180 around a post, race back, another 180 around another post, then down one more time and back to the finish. 3 turns in all and the winner moves to the next round.
Sounds easy right! It is, except …. The ruts in the turns get to be a couple feet deep. The sand tries to yank your front wheel to full lock, has no support in a berm so the wheels blow through and you have little traction so you’re throttle is pinned the whole time and you are constantly thinking “Am I jetted rich enough for this?” (you probably aren’t).
I don’t know the secret to winning this event, I was only there to watch (and laugh) but I do know this. For the Vega sand, there are only 2 throttle positions you want to use. Wide open and really wide open while fanning the clutch.
Sign me up for next year! I’ll work on my neck tan!
Post Redneck racing was a nice BBQ prime rib, potatoes baked in butter, some green vegetable stuff and an adult beverage. Camping food is awesome!
Later Anne and I head over the Thrityseven campfire for some entertaining stories and an inside look at what makes 37 the way he is.
For those that don’t know, 37 was the main reason for me wanting to race this year. His efforts last year along with his video log were inspirational! So it’s all his fault!
As is typical for me at these events, I don’t sleep well the night before the race. You’re mind tends to wander back to past races and the mistakes you’ve made. You think of what you’ll do different if you have the same situation. A pointless thing since you can’t possibly have a similar situation, this race is 800 km away from the last one! Get to sleep already!
Morning light pops through the window just shortly after I fall asleep. *@$#% that light is loud! You can’t sleep through it! So the dog goes out and the coffee pot is fired up.
With coffee in hand, I head down to sign up. A few familiar faces and some new ones, all smiling and happy to answer questions. “Rider’s meeting at 10:15 come dressed and ready to ride”.
At the meeting I take note of the details, there is a technical section that takes about 17 seconds to get through cleanly or there is the option of a go around, it takes about 47 seconds to clear. Knowing I can’t pick up and start my bike 3 times in less than 47 seconds, I tell myself to go around.
Other details include a note about a short slippery bridge and another bridge made from a log split down the middle and the 2 halves bolted together, flat side up. The rest sounds like normal trail riding. There will be a parade lap but only the pros and top level guys should do it. The course is about 20 km long and covers a good bit of singletrack and some fast open quad trails.
Sounds fun!
While the pros go out for a parade lap I head out to the clearing where barrel racing was held. I figure I can warm up a bit there and try to work out the arm pump early.
A few rips back and forth through the sand and the 200 is warmed up (and then some). What is that smell ???
Another few rips, eww, what a stench.
Ok, arms are starting to pump up. Back to the trailer. Hmm… the bike is smoking a lot. Maybe that new oil mix is a tad too much?
At the trailer I ask my wife to grab a bottle of water for me. It’s hot and humid already and I don’t want to tap into my camelback. While she’s getting the water I notice my muffler is still smoking a bit. Hmm… now it’s smoking more …… a lot more …… uh oh…… Honey, hurry up with that water…
Something to note, since the last race I have sold my bike and am now on Anne’s bike. Which was jetted for her, a touch rich to keep the power soft. Translation, there’s some spooge in the pipe. Now at 2000 feet less elevation (leaner) and working hard, WFO, in the sand, that spooge has lit in the muffler! No problem, starting the bike and letting it idle smothers it for oxygen and it goes out after a moment. I’ll be repacking that!
The races aren’t going to start until 12:15 so I kill some time by drinking 2 more bottles of water (good and bad to that!) and trying to keep cool. The weather is 26ish and humid. The warm weather seems to be pulling the humidity up out of the sand and holding it in the air. Any activity results in sweat. Work hard and your sweat starts sweating.
It’s finally race time!
We line up as usual, in an unorganized manner. The pros know the routine but us beginners hang back and try to figure it all out. There are 10 of us at the line. Most I’ve seen before at other races and only 2 that still have that new car look. Since these are familiar faces I know who’s going to check out fast and who’ll be holding back. So I work out my strategy, don’t fall!
The pros, intermediate, 30 and 40 riders go, then the lady, (yep just one!) finally it’s down to us.
The starter asks “are you ready?” as his finger points down the line and back. Mentally I go through my check list;
Water, check
Gas, check
sitting on bike, check
fully dressed, check
butterflies in stomach, check
full bladder, check
Ok I’m ready let’s do this thing.
There’s the horn!
The bikes fire up, the clutch drops and before I can react the front wheel reaches up and I scramble to stick to my strategy, don’t fall! In the confusion of dealing with the wheelie I find myself 4th going into the first turn. Up ahead #8 falls over and I’m in 3rd, holy fecal matter! #8 is Travis Sydor and I know he’ll catch up soon. Still I enjoy the position for a few minutes.
Just ahead is #826 (Grimlock) and he’s tuned in to the sandy quad trails. With this being my first ride on the beach material in 20 years I’m not yet feeling comfortable.
20 years ago, it was common for me to be out in the sand of northern Ontario. There were miles of sand pits to play in and sand dunes to ride. But you forget over time. It’s like driving your first car again, yes it feels familiar and you know where everything is but you don’t quite remember all its little quirks.
The bike is running great, suspension is dialed perfect, the weather on the warm side and manageable for now, but I’m not ready for the sand. I should have been out play riding more. The course is laid out on some fast open sandy quad trail. It’s awesome! The corners are highly banked and you can carry a butt load of speed, if you sack up and do it.
Apparently I was just carrying a small coin purse ‘cause I was stuck in 3rd and it wasn’t being rung out. 4th or 5th wide open would have been easy, (that will come in lap 2).
For now I just watch 826 slowly pull away. Then, Travis works past me and I see him get past 826 as well. A few more turns and a four stroke is heard closing in. It’s #5 and I let him slip past dropping me down to 5th place.
Fighting the steering at slow speeds in the sand has made my arms pump up so I glance behind me and not seeing anyone else there, role the throttle back to let my hands relax.
Just then the trail opens up and tracks left but the course is flagged straight in to the trees and I can see a couple riders gunning it back towards me. It’s 826 and another beginner! I’m first into the trees ahead of Grimlock but let him past just a few yards later. I think that moved me back into 4th place.
In the trees now I chase Grant for a while. He’s pushing it and easily able to stay ahead but then gets hung up on a root and I slip past with 2 others in tow. No time to relax the hands yet!
We charge through the trees and roots for a while until we come to a small mud covered bridge, slowly I waddle across and up a small rooty hill. #5 is stuck in the roots and I Billy goat around on his right. Have I mentioned how good this little 200 is! The 2 bikes behind me are breathing down my neck and the effort of holding them off is just making me tense up my hands more so I pull over and let them pass. Back in 5th (I think).
Still in the trees and roots for a few Km. I’m glancing back to see where 826 is. I can hear him but can’t spot him …. yet.
Finally, after a short root covered downhill, there he is. Glancing back a second time causes me to get crossed up on a log and stuck for a moment and I expect to see him roll past but he’s not there. So I scramble to get moving again.
We’re now at the first log bridge, which is made up of 5 small diameter logs bolted together. Luckily they are solid and slope down to a round rock bottom. Despite being wet and a bit slick, the 200 stays up and keeps me off my head. Where is Grimlock? He should be passing me here? I steal a glance back but don’t see him.
Through a short grassy section and then back into the trees, here I meet two juniors. One has his helmet off and is looking a bit overheated. I get a thumbs up so I carry on. Another glance back.
A mud hole is around the corner and a KTM with signal lights is stopped and thinking about a line choice. While he’s thinking, I slide back on the seat, close my eyes and open the throttle. This is going to be ugly on the next lap.
I can hear that GasGas 300 but I can’t see him.
The humidity is starting to climb, so much so that I’m getting soaked. Really soaked. No you don’t understand, I’m standing in a shower soaked……. Wait, it’s not that humid. Sheet, the bit valve on my camelback has been ripped off and all my water is running out the hose, down my chest protector and spraying all over me. I grab a sip and try to fold the hose into the chest protector, knowing it won’t stay there. This will be a long race without water. At least it’s starting to rain. Onward!
Another mud hole. This one looks really bad so I pause for a moment then cautiously try the line just left of center. I’m surprised to find that the mud has a firm bottom with good grip. That was easy, this time.
No sign of 826.
It’s raining hard now and I’m enjoying it. The pace, heat and lack of water had me questioning my ability to finish the race. Now, in the rain, I’m feeling better. The rain will make the roots even more slick but that’s fine with me. Bring it on I can handle this. My goggles are getting smeared up pretty bad though. I’ll keep them on for as long as I can but it may slow me down.
Coming up to a log crossing, I spot a KTM shifter sitting on the trail. Glancing ahead I see a helmet bobbing through the trees. Someone up ahead might be looking for this so I pick it up and ride up.
To my surprise I see Porschev there. I ask if he’s lost his shifter. No is the reply. “You ok?” I ask, not sure why he’s stopped. “yeah, just too hot, have you seen Quintin?” “He’s not too far behind me, I think he got hung up on a log back there.” “You sure you’re ok?” I ask again. “yeah, I’m fine. You go on” he says as he packs the shifter into my pack. I may find its owner further down the trail. I pull away with a final look back just to be sure everything is indeed fine and quickly hit a button on the gps to log the location, just in case. I know there are others coming up behind but still, you worry when you see your friends on stopped on the trail.
Stopping has given Grimlock time to catch up and a few yards after leaving Porschev, I get a glimpse of him coming out of the trees. Doing a double take has caused me to get off my line at a couple logs and I’m snagged. He’ll be on my rear fender in a second.
Just as I get to the river crossing with the split log bridge, he’s there. A rider is in the water with a drowned out bike. He’s ok and says he doesn’t need help. A glance at the bridge is all that’s needed to confirm that its slick and will put you down if you aren’t careful. I line up my bike to walk/push it across the bridge. Grant says he’ll be right there behind me. Together we get across without any drama.
The trail off the bridge leads to the left then up a short rooted out slope with a rider off his bike to the right. As I get on the gas to make the climb the bike steps out on a root and I go down. A glance back and I see Grant coming and try to get out of his way but can’t get my bike up off the trail quick enough and he gets snagged also.
After a quick shove up the hill, I slowly roll on expecting Grant to slide past. A couple hundred yards later, he still isn’t there. Now I’m pulled up to a short slick hill with 2 riders at the base, the only lady racer for the day and a Suzuki, #111 who I thought was a junior but was in fact in my class also. They both wave me through and the Billy goat climbs up.
It’s still raining and my goggles are useless so they’ve been flipped off. Now ridding without eye protection, I slow down, a lot! Back in my days as a welder, I’d had a lot of stuff get in my eyes and it always hurt, so I’m careful here now. Despite being able to see better, going slow is the what I’ll be doing from here out, that and riding with my mouth open to catch as much rain as I can, I’m getting dehydrated and cramping.
For the past few KM I had been wondering when the pros would be coming around to lap me, now I have my answer as I glance back and see Jason Schrage coming up fast. I’m in a turn and try to push left but there isn’t enough room for him to get past on the trail but that doesn’t slow him down. He blasts through some brush and is gone, but not without saying “thank you”. So polite!
Being passed by Jason, I noticed how much he steers his bike with the throttle, either to slide it around a turn or to stand it up coming out. Interesting to watch and a great learning opportunity, if only he wasn’t so darn fast I’d watch longer. Still, not wanting to waste an opportunity, I try to follow his tire tracks as best as I can to learn the “pro line” and work on my wheel placement. It doesn’t take me long to realize that speed is a factor for using the same line. Still, the effort is made.
Ahead the trail opens up and gets fast, being that I don’t have goggles I don’t push hard but the wider trail means there are less branches sticking out so I nudge the throttle a bit. Still following Jason’s line, the pace picks up. Another item I notice when approaching an 8” log that is across the trail at an angle is that his tire tracks leave the ground before the log. Hmmm ….
Rolling on down the course the track opens wide and it’s easy to click up through the gears. Knowing that everyone behind me will be doing the same, I can’t be too cheap with the throttle. Just as I think it and roll on the gas, a glob of sand is tossed up by the front tire and I get an eye full. Now I’m dead slow and can hear a bike coming. Pulling over and almost at a stop, #111 goes past. I follow the burry image but have to slow down more as the wind irritates my eye.
After a minute or 2 of furious blinking, the sand is clear and I can see again but another bike is closing. I can’t make out who it is but he’s fast! Screw it, I throw a dinosaur on the fire and try to catch him. The trail is wide and flowing, I last about 17 seconds and he’s way out of sight. At least it helps to set a faster rhythm.
Now in the home stretch coming into the checks, the trail is very wide and fast. I do my best to tuck my visor down and move along but the grit is still flying.
The special test section is just ahead or the go around to the left. I look right and can see 2 riders going in and a third at the mouth, I go left. The go around is easy but longer. Since I’m tired now and everything is wet, the logs in the test section could easily hold me up.
Into the check stop and looking out, I see my wife there with dry gloves and goggles waiting. She’s awesome!
A quick check over the bike, it’s all there, swap gloves and goggles. Drop the GPS in Anne’s hands since I broke one of its mount straps and I’m gone.
I pull out at a modest pace to avoid blasting everyone with sand but once out of the first corner, I sack up, open the tap and start to row through the gears. 5th is too high for the little 200 to carry in the heavy wet sand with my gearing so I keep it to 4th and pinned. These trails are awesome and make you feel like a hero because they are banked so high and you can carry a ton of speed into them.
At this pace it’s only a short time before the open trail ends and leads back into the trees. Someone has dropped a log across the trail that leads left to help people navigate onto the proper track. Not sure why that got my attention, it’s off to the left and I know the course. Funny what you notice even when you should be focused on other things.
The tree roots are now very slick after the rain and racers coming through and giving them a good polish with spinning wheels. To stay up on the bike, I’m shifting from the front to back the back of the bike pretty steady in an effort to get weight either on or off the front wheel when going over wet roots. It’s tiring and I’m sure there must be a better way to ride this stuff (feel free to share your secret if you have one!). Legs are tired and I’m getting cramps from the lack of water. Still I feel comfortable on the trail and push on at a steady pace. Certainly not blistering but steady.
The first small bridge is ahead and off to the side is #111. He’s looking pretty tired but still willing to push on. I pass as he struggles on some roots. As I write this I have to wonder if he knew we were in the same class? I certainly didn’t.
Further up the course riders are scattered here and there. I pass 3 stopped on the top of a small slope, all have their helmets off. Victims to the heat and humidity. I have no water to offer them and can’t be of any further help so I carry on, noting their position on the GPS.
A bit further, a nasty tree root snags me and tries to push the Billy Goat into a tree, just ahead a sweeper is also stuck but he waves me on as I pass. Across the next bridge 2 more sweepers ask about their partner’s location. He’s just 20 yards back I reply.
The Suzuki rider is behind me as I get sideways on a log. Looking back I can see he’s very red and looks tired. I ask if he’s ok and get a wave so I continue for another 10 yards into a mud hole. Here a rider is stuck to the left and every possible line as tracks through it. None look good. I try the middle and stuff the front wheel into a hole. The bike lurches left and I discover my leg needs to be 3 feet longer to be able to reach the bottom. Somehow despite behind up to my waist in the murk, I keep the bike’s airbox up and dry. Fueled by fear of having to dry out a drowned bike I drag the Goat out onto solid ground. A glance back and the Suzuki is still on the other side looking for a clear path. It’s the last time I would see him.
The sun is out in force now and the temperature and humidity are both well above a comfortable level. I’m getting desperate for water so I ride just off the course for a bit, purposely hitting branches as I pass with my mouth open to get even a small bit of water. It works but only just a little.
Arriving at the split log bridge, 2 juniors are pulled off. Both trying to dry out their drowned bikes. A look at the mud covered bridge is enough to convince me to walk across again. This isn’t the time to dunk a bike!
Past the bridge and heading up the rooty slope beyond, there are a couple more riders, they have their helmets off and look like their race is done, 30 yards further and another is off to the side with the same look of defeat. How much longer can I last?
Ahead is a log across the trail at head level, it only takes a moment to duck under and carry on. Just as I stand again for the next corner, a branch hits my eye. The pain is intense and I know there’s still something in there. Carefully I feel around my eye and find the small remains of the tip of the branch. Touching it is painful but it has to come out.
Instinctively the eye is clamped shut but it has to open for the branch to come out. With my right hand I force the eye open and pull the stick out with the left. It’s not much, only about half an inch long and only part of that was in the eye but it hurts, a lot!
With a watery eye, I head on. The first obstacle in my way is a small off camber downhill with some roots mixed in. Normally not a big deal since the elevation change is only about 10 feet but my eye is clamped shut and depth perception isn’t great. The slick roots look a bit further away than they are and I drop the front wheel. An easy recovery but you get the idea of what the rest of the ride will be like, slow!
Cautiously, the Billy goat and I coast along. Sometime stopping to hit a tree, other times just getting a bit wobbly on a root or bit of mud. Finally though the trail opens up again and I know the end isn’t far.
Blinking a bit, I can see through a watery haze. It’s better than riding with an eye closed. The pace isn’t great but I’m moving at least.
A bike is coming in fast, so I pull off and let him by. He must think I’m stopped. Another is shortly behind as I’m coming up to two small logs on the quad trail. Neither has any bark on them and it’s hard to judge their angle. I cleared them on the last lap but this time, the pace is slow and the front just glances off the slick surface. Naturally the bike lands on the pipe side, the log finding a way to tweak the pipe and break the lower portion of the rad guard. The 40b rider slows and I give a thumbs up before he’s gone.
Moving again, the bike rattles and feels terrible. The front wheel is a bit off center but worse the pipe isn’t sealing on the head flange causing the motor to run lean. Glancing down, the FMF Gnarly has gone from bright chrome to golden already. Better shift up and drop the rpm. At least the end isn’t far.
Knowing the trail is mostly open and flowly from here to the check is enough for me to give it one last effort. The Billy goat chugs along happily in 3rd, that’s fast enough for one good eye and a lean running motor.
There are a few wobbles and bobbles along the way but eventually, the special test section comes into sight. I take the easy way and plug along into the check.
Finally done, my wife greats me with a smile and “Good job”. I’m relieved to be done.
Back at the trailer, I pluck a bit of bark out of my eye. There would be more to come up over the next 2 days.
No water, a stick in the eye and a bent bike but this was still a very fun race and worth the drive up. Certainly one worth going back to. The volunteers did a fantastic job of setting up the course and organized a great event.
The results are posted a while later and I’m surprised to find out I placed 3rd. I got lucky!
Next stop, St. Francis.
