Not holding out, just haven't had time to get the details down.
Stay tuned!
Chronicles of a Racing Beginner.
Re: Chronicles of a Racing Beginner.
The voices are back. Awesome!
Re: Chronicles of a Racing Beginner.
Race 2 – Porcupine Hills
We pulled the trailer off the road and into a clearing at about 8:30 Friday evening. It was suggested the week before by another racer that “if you’re camping, get there early”. Glad we did, there were a lot of trailers already there and a steady flow behind us.
Saturday we went to the kids and juniors rider meeting to try to get a feel for how this event would unfold.
The race will start “on the hill, where it usually does”. That means little to the new people! My wife and I look at each other, each with a puzzled look. Once the crowd clears a little, we ask the speaker, where the start is. Renee Tuner, a great lady by the way, sends us down the path to the start location. Ok, so now I won’t be completely lost on Sunday. That set, we watch the Peewee races for a bit. Always fun to see these little tykes buzz around on their bikes.
The rest of the day is spent relaxing and enjoying the local scenery.
For those that haven’t been to Porcupine Hills, you don’t know what you’re missing. It’s a fantastic spot set in the foothills with tall trees all around mixed with a few clear fields. We’ll be back ….. soon!
Sunday rolls around and I’m up early. The plan is to get signed in, be set up and get in a warm up ride to help with my arm pump.
After a quick trip to the sign up and meeting a few familiar faces, I head up into the hills to warm myself and the bike.
From the top of the hill above our campsite, you can see for a few miles in most directions. Can’t make out any trails though as I scan around trying to see where the race will lead in the next 2 hours.
With 30 minutes of riding in, the 200 gets pointed back down the hill. The dirt is loose, dark and loamy. Perfect conditions for going up, coming down however, the loose loam shifts under the load of my front tire in a turn and I stuff the bike into a tree. Not serious, just one of my usual dismounts. Back on the bike, the front wheel is pointed slightly off to the left while holding the bars straight. There’s time to fix it.
Back at the trailer again, I set at the bike with the tools. The bars are true to the wheel again and the forks have a click of compression taken out. Maybe that will help in the loose dirt?
Time to go to the rider meeting and drop my gas can. Primerib offers me the option of leaving my gas at his truck, easier to find and it’s right next to the course. Since I don’t know the location of the gas stop, I accept.
At the meeting we’re told the general layout, start on the hill, the check in’s are marked with white ribbon, take note of the pie plate in case you see a rider that needs help, the pie plate marked with a 9 is about 5 km from the end of the loop … That last comment, I take note of, and find out later others have noted as well. Thirtyseven offers up some calming words, “just relax and enjoy”. Yep, it’ll be just another trail ride!
It’s not long after that we head up on the hill for the start. The pro’s are first to hit the trail. They’re fast and I wonder how long it will be until they start passing me?
The next few classes are quickly set loose and now it’s our turn at the line. I watch as Hendrix13, Dobi, Thirtyseven, Dirtyboy, Axel99, Porschev, Spinalguy and a few other club members race off in their classes. It easy to be proud of these guys.
Running in the beginner class means we only have half the course to cover, about 47 km. The loop we’ll do starts in the opposite direction from everyone else.
There are 11 of us at the line, a few I remember from the previous week, a couple others that look as nervous as I know I do myself! Quintin, Porschev’s son is on the line next to me. He’d be a great poker player, he doesn’t show any emotion.
The horn blast, we fire the bikes and head off! Quintin gets a great start and is 2nd going into the trees! Way to go Q!! I’m 5th…. Hmm the other newbies must have been holding back, because I’m not charging hard.
Pink and blue ribbons to the right but the leaders blow past the turn and I see Quintin go down. Making the turn, I’m now 3rd …. Make that 4th as a 4 stroke thunders past. Another turn and the new leader has missed it. I’m 3rd again …. No wait, back to 4th as he’s now spun around and charging hard to make up the lost ground.
A quick look back to see where Q is but I can’t see him.
We’re in the trees now and the trail is amazing! It has great flow, the terrain has plenty of grip, birds are singing. Oh, no wait, that’s the sound of a 2t coming fast! “You go on ahead” I say to myself as I let someone pass. My hands and forearms are cramping from holding on too tight. Need to slow down and relax a bit.
A few turns later and the rider I let by is on the ground trying to get his bike up. I’ll just slip by on your left, thanks. About a km later and he’s caught up and looking to pass again. No problem, go on, my arms are only getting worse. Relax!!
The trail wanders through the trees and a few more branch off every now and then. Thankfully the race prep people have done a really good job of marking the path. Staying on course is easy until ….
Over a slight rise, there aren’t anymore pink ribbons to be seen! Darn, where are they? Is that one off in the distance to the right? Off I go. Nope. Turn around and head back to the last one, quick! You’re losing time, I say to myself out loud. Once back to the previous ribbon, it’s easy to see the next but somehow I managed to miss it. “Fog of War” I tell myself.
In the scramble to get back on track, I was gripping the bars tight again. Any tension that was worked out is back in force. Calm down.
A few more turns and the trail really gets flowing. Up a gear and a bit more throttle! At this point I’m constantly yelling at myself “Open your hands and feet on the outside of the pegs!”, “Lean forward, bend your knees!” . If anyone was in ear shot they would think I had Turrets! Maybe I do. Sheet Head!
Over a rise, down a slope, in a turn, between the trees. Awesome, this is so much fun. Looking through the turn and into the next, the berm gives out and down I go with a thud. It’s ok, I’m not hurt, yet. I’ll feel that and a few other aches later for now I scramble to get going again.
Darn, I did it again. I’ve tensed up and my arms are so pumped up and hard I could use them to drive in railway spikes. Need to relax!
A short time later, at a small hill a rider off his bike and his helmet is off, it’s the same rider that past me earlier, from the tracks on the hill he’s been struggling. He gives a thumbs up, so I continue on.
Over the hill, through some tress, down the slope and the tracks lead right, I don’t see any ribbon … I follow. 300 yards later still no ribbon. Darn, I lost the track again. Spin an awesome U turn and rip it back to the last ribbon. “Oh shi ……… WHACK!!! …… t” A branch I didn’t notice hits my helmet and takes out my helmet cam. Yes, that’s right, the branch hit me, I didn’t hit it! Honest!!
Back on the bike, and on the trail. I’m going slower because, yep, you guessed it. I’m gripping the bars too tight again. Just flow with it.
Now the trees open up and the course leads down some quad trail. Perfect time to sit down, grip the bike with my knees and loosen my grip and hope the blood drains out of my arms. It helps but I’m not 100% yet.
Down a hill and through a field, then back to the trees and I see the same rider that was down on the hill with his helmet off. Now ahead of me, he must have passed me when I got off the trail. I try to catch up and grab 4th gear, then 5th through the next field, glancing down my speedo says 89 kph, click, 6th. In my charge I tense up again and push my front end through another berm. This time the bike just slips out and I’m left skidding next to it. No damage, no pain, just black dirt. My arms are pumped!
Over another rise and I don’t notice the ribbons lead off to the left. Since I was still trying to catch the guy ahead I’m going as fast as I can and end up in what can only be described as “the tree dead zone”. All around are dead trees laying at odd angles, most suspended off the ground at fender height. Too high for someone of my skill to ride over, too low to go under. My GPS said I was in there for over 6 minutes. During those 6 minutes I would, push, pull, yank, drag and ghost ride my bike over dozens of logs. My arms are useless.
For the next few km, I force myself to ride at a sluggish pace to try to get some feeling back in them. I should have done that 40 minutes ago at the start! Now I can go!
Heading into a narrow cut line, the ground is firm, dry and has good traction but is a bit rough. With my arms finally limber, I can manage 3rd gear and a nice flowing pace.
The bike sucks up the bumps and ruts and stays where it’s pointed. Thanks Ian at Riders Edge, you do good work!
The next few km fly past and I again catch up to the same rider that I lost earlier. This time I latch on to his rear fender and just keep the pressure on him. Through a field, up a hill, through the trees, we go for a few km. He keeps looking back but I’m on him.
Finally we head down a hill and the course cuts left across a small wet ditch next to a field. A zig instead of a zag and I end up with the pointy end of a 2” diameter stick, nicely tucked up under my chest protector and very close to giving me a not so stylish piercing! More time lost as the rider ahead motors off while I struggle to free myself.
What seems like hours was in fact 3 minutes before I was moving again. Now my chest protector is flapping in the wind and I’m frustrated with myself for making such a stupid mistake. It won’t be my last!
Another little ways and I’m heading down a slope, cutting left and about to go up another hill and we meet again! Only now he’s off his bike with his helmet on the seat. Turns out his throttle cable is broken. There are a few people just down the hill that we can see, likely just local trail riders, they are stopped and looking up at us. A few yells and they indicate they’ll help. So off I go.
A couple hundred yards later I take note of a pie plate with 9 on it. I’ll remember this and tell someone back at the finish to make sure the broken bike and rider make it out. Hey, didn’t they say 9 was about 5 km from the finish. Sprint time.
Through the trees for a bit before another downhill across open ground, cutting across a truck trail and then down another short slope. I didn’t notice the ribbons going right, I go straight back into the trees ahead. There is only about 100 feet of thin bush before another truck that intersects the well worn path I’m now on. Stopping I glance left, right. There, down the truck trail is a ribbon. I chase it down and then the next. These are different though, they’re faded and the tracks don’t look fresh. Continuing for another short distance it becomes clear this isn’t the right. Another U turn, a bit less awesome, pick my bike up, pick it up again. Stop, look at my bike on the ground, pick it up again, WHAT THE …… oh, there’s a small tree stuck up in the swing arm ahead of the wheel. Stupid tree.
Once un-skewered I get the bike upright and head back in the direction I came and can now clearly see the pink and blue ribbons I missed.
Back in the trees and sprinting, less than 5 km to go …. Now I’m pushing hard pacing myself to be wasted at about the 6 km point. He said it was about 5 km so I don’t want to be fully burnt out!
A few more turns and I spot another pie plate 9E (maybe it was 9N I can’t remember which) …… WHAT?!!? ….. uh oh, dial it back. Does that mean the finish isn’t for another 5 km?
I hear bikes behind me, a glance back and I see 2 riders blazing! They must be the first of the pros, so I pull off the trail to give them plenty of room to pass. One of them is on a small CRF150. That must be Jason. Wow, I thought they were kidding when they said he’d be on that! Just as quick as he came up, he skipped through some roots and into the trees and is gone. Impressive.
Another couple pros go by and finally a CRF with a huge gas tank goes around me. “Latch on” I tell myself. I grab 3rd and pin the throttle open. Hit the same line as he does, if he can ride it at this speed, so can you!
There are so many pointers that run through my mind, lean forward, lean back, bend your knees, bend your elbows, smooth inputs, fast outputs. To my own surprise I kept pace for a short time.
RRRRRRRRRRIIIIiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnggggggggggggggggggg…… uh oh! The bike stalls. GAS?! Looking down and sure enough I need to switch to reserve. That finish line better be close!
The CRF is gone by the time I get the bike going again, but a Suzuki goes past and yells something at me, I don’t think it was “have a nice day”. Sorry dude, I didn’t plan to run out of gas there!
Moving again I can see yellow tape through the trees. There’s the road! Finally, into the finish!
“Am I done?” I ask at the check. “Yep, you’re finished.”
I placed 6th and got a T-shirt!
To those that flagged this course and the organizers, thank you for putting on a great event. I had a blast. This is exactly the type of event that will draw more people in. It was awesome!
Next up, Christie Mines!
We pulled the trailer off the road and into a clearing at about 8:30 Friday evening. It was suggested the week before by another racer that “if you’re camping, get there early”. Glad we did, there were a lot of trailers already there and a steady flow behind us.
Saturday we went to the kids and juniors rider meeting to try to get a feel for how this event would unfold.
The race will start “on the hill, where it usually does”. That means little to the new people! My wife and I look at each other, each with a puzzled look. Once the crowd clears a little, we ask the speaker, where the start is. Renee Tuner, a great lady by the way, sends us down the path to the start location. Ok, so now I won’t be completely lost on Sunday. That set, we watch the Peewee races for a bit. Always fun to see these little tykes buzz around on their bikes.
The rest of the day is spent relaxing and enjoying the local scenery.
For those that haven’t been to Porcupine Hills, you don’t know what you’re missing. It’s a fantastic spot set in the foothills with tall trees all around mixed with a few clear fields. We’ll be back ….. soon!
Sunday rolls around and I’m up early. The plan is to get signed in, be set up and get in a warm up ride to help with my arm pump.
After a quick trip to the sign up and meeting a few familiar faces, I head up into the hills to warm myself and the bike.
From the top of the hill above our campsite, you can see for a few miles in most directions. Can’t make out any trails though as I scan around trying to see where the race will lead in the next 2 hours.
With 30 minutes of riding in, the 200 gets pointed back down the hill. The dirt is loose, dark and loamy. Perfect conditions for going up, coming down however, the loose loam shifts under the load of my front tire in a turn and I stuff the bike into a tree. Not serious, just one of my usual dismounts. Back on the bike, the front wheel is pointed slightly off to the left while holding the bars straight. There’s time to fix it.
Back at the trailer again, I set at the bike with the tools. The bars are true to the wheel again and the forks have a click of compression taken out. Maybe that will help in the loose dirt?
Time to go to the rider meeting and drop my gas can. Primerib offers me the option of leaving my gas at his truck, easier to find and it’s right next to the course. Since I don’t know the location of the gas stop, I accept.
At the meeting we’re told the general layout, start on the hill, the check in’s are marked with white ribbon, take note of the pie plate in case you see a rider that needs help, the pie plate marked with a 9 is about 5 km from the end of the loop … That last comment, I take note of, and find out later others have noted as well. Thirtyseven offers up some calming words, “just relax and enjoy”. Yep, it’ll be just another trail ride!
It’s not long after that we head up on the hill for the start. The pro’s are first to hit the trail. They’re fast and I wonder how long it will be until they start passing me?
The next few classes are quickly set loose and now it’s our turn at the line. I watch as Hendrix13, Dobi, Thirtyseven, Dirtyboy, Axel99, Porschev, Spinalguy and a few other club members race off in their classes. It easy to be proud of these guys.
Running in the beginner class means we only have half the course to cover, about 47 km. The loop we’ll do starts in the opposite direction from everyone else.
There are 11 of us at the line, a few I remember from the previous week, a couple others that look as nervous as I know I do myself! Quintin, Porschev’s son is on the line next to me. He’d be a great poker player, he doesn’t show any emotion.
The horn blast, we fire the bikes and head off! Quintin gets a great start and is 2nd going into the trees! Way to go Q!! I’m 5th…. Hmm the other newbies must have been holding back, because I’m not charging hard.
Pink and blue ribbons to the right but the leaders blow past the turn and I see Quintin go down. Making the turn, I’m now 3rd …. Make that 4th as a 4 stroke thunders past. Another turn and the new leader has missed it. I’m 3rd again …. No wait, back to 4th as he’s now spun around and charging hard to make up the lost ground.
A quick look back to see where Q is but I can’t see him.
We’re in the trees now and the trail is amazing! It has great flow, the terrain has plenty of grip, birds are singing. Oh, no wait, that’s the sound of a 2t coming fast! “You go on ahead” I say to myself as I let someone pass. My hands and forearms are cramping from holding on too tight. Need to slow down and relax a bit.
A few turns later and the rider I let by is on the ground trying to get his bike up. I’ll just slip by on your left, thanks. About a km later and he’s caught up and looking to pass again. No problem, go on, my arms are only getting worse. Relax!!
The trail wanders through the trees and a few more branch off every now and then. Thankfully the race prep people have done a really good job of marking the path. Staying on course is easy until ….
Over a slight rise, there aren’t anymore pink ribbons to be seen! Darn, where are they? Is that one off in the distance to the right? Off I go. Nope. Turn around and head back to the last one, quick! You’re losing time, I say to myself out loud. Once back to the previous ribbon, it’s easy to see the next but somehow I managed to miss it. “Fog of War” I tell myself.
In the scramble to get back on track, I was gripping the bars tight again. Any tension that was worked out is back in force. Calm down.
A few more turns and the trail really gets flowing. Up a gear and a bit more throttle! At this point I’m constantly yelling at myself “Open your hands and feet on the outside of the pegs!”, “Lean forward, bend your knees!” . If anyone was in ear shot they would think I had Turrets! Maybe I do. Sheet Head!
Over a rise, down a slope, in a turn, between the trees. Awesome, this is so much fun. Looking through the turn and into the next, the berm gives out and down I go with a thud. It’s ok, I’m not hurt, yet. I’ll feel that and a few other aches later for now I scramble to get going again.
Darn, I did it again. I’ve tensed up and my arms are so pumped up and hard I could use them to drive in railway spikes. Need to relax!
A short time later, at a small hill a rider off his bike and his helmet is off, it’s the same rider that past me earlier, from the tracks on the hill he’s been struggling. He gives a thumbs up, so I continue on.
Over the hill, through some tress, down the slope and the tracks lead right, I don’t see any ribbon … I follow. 300 yards later still no ribbon. Darn, I lost the track again. Spin an awesome U turn and rip it back to the last ribbon. “Oh shi ……… WHACK!!! …… t” A branch I didn’t notice hits my helmet and takes out my helmet cam. Yes, that’s right, the branch hit me, I didn’t hit it! Honest!!
Back on the bike, and on the trail. I’m going slower because, yep, you guessed it. I’m gripping the bars too tight again. Just flow with it.
Now the trees open up and the course leads down some quad trail. Perfect time to sit down, grip the bike with my knees and loosen my grip and hope the blood drains out of my arms. It helps but I’m not 100% yet.
Down a hill and through a field, then back to the trees and I see the same rider that was down on the hill with his helmet off. Now ahead of me, he must have passed me when I got off the trail. I try to catch up and grab 4th gear, then 5th through the next field, glancing down my speedo says 89 kph, click, 6th. In my charge I tense up again and push my front end through another berm. This time the bike just slips out and I’m left skidding next to it. No damage, no pain, just black dirt. My arms are pumped!
Over another rise and I don’t notice the ribbons lead off to the left. Since I was still trying to catch the guy ahead I’m going as fast as I can and end up in what can only be described as “the tree dead zone”. All around are dead trees laying at odd angles, most suspended off the ground at fender height. Too high for someone of my skill to ride over, too low to go under. My GPS said I was in there for over 6 minutes. During those 6 minutes I would, push, pull, yank, drag and ghost ride my bike over dozens of logs. My arms are useless.
For the next few km, I force myself to ride at a sluggish pace to try to get some feeling back in them. I should have done that 40 minutes ago at the start! Now I can go!
Heading into a narrow cut line, the ground is firm, dry and has good traction but is a bit rough. With my arms finally limber, I can manage 3rd gear and a nice flowing pace.
The bike sucks up the bumps and ruts and stays where it’s pointed. Thanks Ian at Riders Edge, you do good work!
The next few km fly past and I again catch up to the same rider that I lost earlier. This time I latch on to his rear fender and just keep the pressure on him. Through a field, up a hill, through the trees, we go for a few km. He keeps looking back but I’m on him.
Finally we head down a hill and the course cuts left across a small wet ditch next to a field. A zig instead of a zag and I end up with the pointy end of a 2” diameter stick, nicely tucked up under my chest protector and very close to giving me a not so stylish piercing! More time lost as the rider ahead motors off while I struggle to free myself.
What seems like hours was in fact 3 minutes before I was moving again. Now my chest protector is flapping in the wind and I’m frustrated with myself for making such a stupid mistake. It won’t be my last!
Another little ways and I’m heading down a slope, cutting left and about to go up another hill and we meet again! Only now he’s off his bike with his helmet on the seat. Turns out his throttle cable is broken. There are a few people just down the hill that we can see, likely just local trail riders, they are stopped and looking up at us. A few yells and they indicate they’ll help. So off I go.
A couple hundred yards later I take note of a pie plate with 9 on it. I’ll remember this and tell someone back at the finish to make sure the broken bike and rider make it out. Hey, didn’t they say 9 was about 5 km from the finish. Sprint time.
Through the trees for a bit before another downhill across open ground, cutting across a truck trail and then down another short slope. I didn’t notice the ribbons going right, I go straight back into the trees ahead. There is only about 100 feet of thin bush before another truck that intersects the well worn path I’m now on. Stopping I glance left, right. There, down the truck trail is a ribbon. I chase it down and then the next. These are different though, they’re faded and the tracks don’t look fresh. Continuing for another short distance it becomes clear this isn’t the right. Another U turn, a bit less awesome, pick my bike up, pick it up again. Stop, look at my bike on the ground, pick it up again, WHAT THE …… oh, there’s a small tree stuck up in the swing arm ahead of the wheel. Stupid tree.
Once un-skewered I get the bike upright and head back in the direction I came and can now clearly see the pink and blue ribbons I missed.
Back in the trees and sprinting, less than 5 km to go …. Now I’m pushing hard pacing myself to be wasted at about the 6 km point. He said it was about 5 km so I don’t want to be fully burnt out!
A few more turns and I spot another pie plate 9E (maybe it was 9N I can’t remember which) …… WHAT?!!? ….. uh oh, dial it back. Does that mean the finish isn’t for another 5 km?
I hear bikes behind me, a glance back and I see 2 riders blazing! They must be the first of the pros, so I pull off the trail to give them plenty of room to pass. One of them is on a small CRF150. That must be Jason. Wow, I thought they were kidding when they said he’d be on that! Just as quick as he came up, he skipped through some roots and into the trees and is gone. Impressive.
Another couple pros go by and finally a CRF with a huge gas tank goes around me. “Latch on” I tell myself. I grab 3rd and pin the throttle open. Hit the same line as he does, if he can ride it at this speed, so can you!
There are so many pointers that run through my mind, lean forward, lean back, bend your knees, bend your elbows, smooth inputs, fast outputs. To my own surprise I kept pace for a short time.
RRRRRRRRRRIIIIiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnggggggggggggggggggg…… uh oh! The bike stalls. GAS?! Looking down and sure enough I need to switch to reserve. That finish line better be close!
The CRF is gone by the time I get the bike going again, but a Suzuki goes past and yells something at me, I don’t think it was “have a nice day”. Sorry dude, I didn’t plan to run out of gas there!
Moving again I can see yellow tape through the trees. There’s the road! Finally, into the finish!
“Am I done?” I ask at the check. “Yep, you’re finished.”
I placed 6th and got a T-shirt!
To those that flagged this course and the organizers, thank you for putting on a great event. I had a blast. This is exactly the type of event that will draw more people in. It was awesome!
Next up, Christie Mines!
The voices are back. Awesome!
Re: Chronicles of a Racing Beginner.
great race report Brass 
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thirtyseven
- 2024 RMDRA Member
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- Joined: Mon Mar 28, 2005 3:59 pm
- Location: Cochrane
Re: Chronicles of a Racing Beginner.
Great stuff Brass.
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primerib72
- Columnist
- Posts: 641
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- Location: Where the buffalo roam
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Dobi
- 2024 RMDRA Member
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- Joined: Thu Mar 03, 2005 9:33 pm
- Location: deep in the woods on some epic singletrack
- Contact:
Re: Chronicles of a Racing Beginner.
good stuff.
Next race, try to make a point of looking ahead at the next ribbon instead of the trail or your fender. It forces you to look further ahead and get's your mind off of how fast/close you are going past the trees. It will eventually help you to stay on course.
Next race, try to make a point of looking ahead at the next ribbon instead of the trail or your fender. It forces you to look further ahead and get's your mind off of how fast/close you are going past the trees. It will eventually help you to stay on course.
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dirtyboy
- 2024 RMDRA Member
- Posts: 6971
- Joined: Sat Dec 11, 2004 5:04 pm
- Location: Calgary, AB
- Contact:
Re: Chronicles of a Racing Beginner.
Nice write up. You are learning so much from these experiences.
I like Dobi's advise and as well I would try to take it less seriously. It's good to try to follow other riders that are slightly faster than you are but worry more about enjoying the trail and staying comfortable in between those moments. I think you will have more fun and more fun = better results.
I like the races because it gives me a chance to ride my own pace and maybe push myself behind some other riders.
I like Dobi's advise and as well I would try to take it less seriously. It's good to try to follow other riders that are slightly faster than you are but worry more about enjoying the trail and staying comfortable in between those moments. I think you will have more fun and more fun = better results.
I like the races because it gives me a chance to ride my own pace and maybe push myself behind some other riders.
Re: Chronicles of a Racing Beginner.
Race 3 – Christie Mines,
Another perfect day to race, warm at about 15c but not so hot that you need to leave your fly open to keep things cool. No dust to speak of. What can be seen of the course, which isn’t much, looks like it’s well flagged and in good shape.
We, Porschev, and I arrive around 8:30 for sign in. Other racers where coming in pretty steadily behind us.
After sign in we park next to Primerib. He’s already unloaded and just itching to get at it. In contrast, Porschev and I are trying our best to conceal our shaky hands. Dirtyboy comes by and stops for a chat, there’s some confusion (by us) on how difficult the course will be. DB kindly assures us that we won’t need any medical trauma support. Phew!
Taking the advice of those that have done this sort of thing a few dozen times, we’re trying to take in as much fluid as our bladders can handle. Gatorade for Dallas, straight water for me. My regular stock of water mix is in our trailer back in Calgary.
After killing off the morning we assemble for the riders meeting. Again we’re being split into 2 start times. I like this since it means I won’t be constantly pulling off to let the uber fast guys and gals pass. Instead I’ll just be pulling over regularly.
The parade lap starts and I’m content to get going near the tail end of the group. With arm pump and numb hands being an issue, there’s no need to get out front. Holding to the rear lets me go for a blast then slow to a crawl while the hands and arms drain without getting in anyone’s way. Hopefully by the end of the parade lap, I’ll be warmed up enough for the arm pump to not be too much of a factor.
At least that was the plan ……
During the parade lap, I’m doing my best to remember all the subtle details of the trail that I’ll need to use to my advantage or avoid. A small sapling in a turn that will hold my front tire, a wet root that will put me on my head if I don’t go a touch left, a branch that sticks out just about shoulder height. They are all burned into my mind. For now.
The parade lap is over faster than I wanted it to be. The usual arm pump is back but nothing too bad, the new steering damper has helped. Still, it doesn’t feel like it the worst has past. A quick run to the truck for a final touch up of gas and back to the start line. Hopefully the race will start a few minutes late and give me time to loosen up.
Nope, they are starting now!
The first row is off and heading into the woods, darn I have to pee.
Focus, stretch your hands and arms out. Get the blood drained, remember the course. What’s the plan?
Hold back, let the others go while your hands settle in. Once the hands are good, let ‘er rip. Ok, I can do that.
Juniors are off, we’re next.
Final self-check; boot buckles good, velcro on the gloves not too tight, elbow pads same, helmet strap snug, camelback straw in easy reach, bladder still filling.
We’re off.
As planned, I take my time. Standing, one hand off the bars and even waiving people ahead of me. “It’s a long race” I tell myself. Just get the hands and arms to calm down and then get at it.
Remember the course, through the field, down the slope, left across the puddle, up and right, small puddle, through another field between some small brush, then a short fast open spot with a sharp right.
A couple beginners play crash tag, #20 and #8. #20 looks hurt, his bars are bent down and he’s slumped over the bike. I stop, more people go past me, “are you ok?” he’s slow to answer but says he is and waves me on. Sweepers are coming around the bend so he has the help there is he needs it. I’m dead last now. That’s fine, it’s a long race.
I give the throttle a firm twist and catch up to a few riders, passing 2 and finally latching on to the fender of someone going at a comfortable enough pace to let my arms calm down. Settled in, I start to enjoy the course. What a great day for a ride. The rider ahead goes down crossing a log, so I slow down and wait. It’s a long race and I’m hands haven’t settled yet, but they are getting there. Just hold this pace and you’ll be good before mid-lap.
We’re off again and going at a nice pace, I’m thinking of the course and a good spot to pass. Mentally I have it picked out. At the top of the hill, there is a sharp right, then a nice open spot to blast past as the trail eases to the left.
Out of the trees, into the open field and heading for the hill. The little 200 is working well but can’t pull as fast down the straights, so I have to wait for the hill.
At the base of the hill are a few small kickers. During the parade lap most riders were chopping the throttle to clear them before hitting the hill. “That’s all I need and I’ll have the drive to pull clean past at the top” I say to myself, just stay left so you can still make the right hand turn at the top. Sure enough, the rider ahead, chopped but too much and lost his drive and fell ¾ up the hill. I was right behind and didn’t chop and committed to the same line. I had a choice, chop the throttle and turn or run over another rider. I made the wrong choice and chopped. With the soft dirt on the hill, it was like I had just dropped and anchor.
Turning the bike back down the hill was the only option. As I was heading down the side, 2 other beginners came up and crashed out on the hill. Totally blocking the path. Reviewing the helmet cam footage shows that I was stuck at the bottom of the hill waiting for over 5 minutes! At least my hands were limbering up.
Finally, they move out of the way and I click up to 3rd gear and blast up the hill. The little 200 is happy to get going again. There’s a lot of time to make up and the trails are smooth and fast, so 3rd and 4th gears are the choice.
Ooops, blew a turn heading into the trees. Remember that for next time! In the pine trees it’s tight (for me) and I stumble on a few tree roots. Stupid mistakes that wouldn’t happen if I was standing.
Onto some truck trails leading back to the check in there was this nice little 2 foot jump on a straight that was just a blast! It had a nice straight following it so you had plenty of space to slow down after hitting it in 3rd. It would have been fun to watch the really fast guys hit that and see just how far that little jump let them fly.
First lap done and I’m disappointed in my time. Steve-o and Dirtyboy are at the check-in and cheer me on.
Now to those that haven’t raced this type of event, seeing someone there cheering you on really does make you pick things up. Thanks for that guys!
Open it up.
This time around, there is no one ahead of me and I’m limbered up. So I push it a bit harder, but still holding back a reserve for a last lap sprint.
Remember the trails, that sapling in the short left hand uphill turn, the rotten log chuck before the wet root, that stupid branch that is trying to kill me!
This lap is almost 9 minutes faster, but I can do better.
Next lap, the fast guys are lapping me. I hadn’t thought of how much time you lose when you pull over for them. Each time someone comes up behind you, you’re looking for a good spot to pull over so that they can safely get around. It ruins your line, you get jammed up on “stuff” and then you have to pick up the pace again. I’m not complaining, I’m happy to pull over and let them go by, it just all adds up, a second here, 2 seconds there.
When a faster rider passes, I try to keep up for as long as possible. Maybe it helps to make up the difference.
The trail is getting beat in pretty good now. That sapling is bent, the rotten log chunk is in 3 pieces, where is that branch? Here comes a 40B rider, let him pass. As he goes past, there’s the branch! He hits it with his shoulder and it springs forward then back again, just as I get to it. The timing couldn’t be better. It harpoons me in the shoulder. I glance down and am surprised to see that there isn’t a pine tree growing out of my arm. I’ll just take a moment here to regroup, that wet root is just around the corner and I don’t want to take myself out on that.
The rest of the lap goes well, and I’m back and the check. Heading in, “did I make the cut off?” I yell. “You have 5 minutes!” is shouted back at me as I’m being scanned. Awesome!
A quick glance down and my gas is getting low but I’m easily good for another lap without needing a top-up. Now it counts
Out I go for the final lap and I’m literally yelling in my helmet to go faster. I have just enough energy left to get a lap in at 100% effort, or crash.
Coming out of some light shrub, into a field the bike is in 4th and WFO. OH SHHEEEETTT, a loose choppy downhill. A few tense heartbeats later, I’m still on the bike and trying to understand how. Think about it later, onward!
Coming back around to the branch, it’s here somewhere, where is it?? It should be right here! Nope!
So focused on spotting, and not hitting the branch and nearly put a hole through me on the last lap, I forgot about the wet root in the next turn. Still on the gas and leaning into the right hand turn, the front wheel just misses the root but the back wheel doesn’t. The back skids left, clears the root and finds traction again. A lot of traction! Now the bike is leaned over and the front wheel is way up in the air and I’m too far back on the bike to catch it.
Yuck, the dirt tastes like moldy bread! Body check, head good, feet/toes good, arms… right check, left OUCH! That shoulder took a hit!
It takes me about a minute to get the bike up and running again, the steering is a little off and I want an ice pack for my shoulder.
2 riders go past.
Back on the bike, I try to get back on pace but struggle for a few moments while trying to adjust to the new bar position. The hill climb is coming up.
3rd gear over the kicker and when the bike lands I give out a yelp! A shot of pain in my shoulder and with that lapse of focus I’m on the right side of the hill and trying to get back left. Over the small rock grouping another kick from the bike and I’m out of the grove and loosing speed. Crud. I just spun out and stalled!
By the time I start the bike again, another rider is heading up the hill. Another beginner, he’s past and on his way. A minute or 2 struggle to push the bike up the last 15 feet and I’m ready to go again. I have to catch that guy!
Pushing hard, the bike wants to go but between the push up hill and my get off, I’m just about out of steam.
At the end, the other rider was 14 second ahead of me and it turns out the other 2 that had passed me after my root crash were also beginners. So that last lap when I pushed as hard and fast as I could only to crash cost me 3 positions.
Lesson learned.
Next up, Porkies HS …….
Another perfect day to race, warm at about 15c but not so hot that you need to leave your fly open to keep things cool. No dust to speak of. What can be seen of the course, which isn’t much, looks like it’s well flagged and in good shape.
We, Porschev, and I arrive around 8:30 for sign in. Other racers where coming in pretty steadily behind us.
After sign in we park next to Primerib. He’s already unloaded and just itching to get at it. In contrast, Porschev and I are trying our best to conceal our shaky hands. Dirtyboy comes by and stops for a chat, there’s some confusion (by us) on how difficult the course will be. DB kindly assures us that we won’t need any medical trauma support. Phew!
Taking the advice of those that have done this sort of thing a few dozen times, we’re trying to take in as much fluid as our bladders can handle. Gatorade for Dallas, straight water for me. My regular stock of water mix is in our trailer back in Calgary.
After killing off the morning we assemble for the riders meeting. Again we’re being split into 2 start times. I like this since it means I won’t be constantly pulling off to let the uber fast guys and gals pass. Instead I’ll just be pulling over regularly.
The parade lap starts and I’m content to get going near the tail end of the group. With arm pump and numb hands being an issue, there’s no need to get out front. Holding to the rear lets me go for a blast then slow to a crawl while the hands and arms drain without getting in anyone’s way. Hopefully by the end of the parade lap, I’ll be warmed up enough for the arm pump to not be too much of a factor.
At least that was the plan ……
During the parade lap, I’m doing my best to remember all the subtle details of the trail that I’ll need to use to my advantage or avoid. A small sapling in a turn that will hold my front tire, a wet root that will put me on my head if I don’t go a touch left, a branch that sticks out just about shoulder height. They are all burned into my mind. For now.
The parade lap is over faster than I wanted it to be. The usual arm pump is back but nothing too bad, the new steering damper has helped. Still, it doesn’t feel like it the worst has past. A quick run to the truck for a final touch up of gas and back to the start line. Hopefully the race will start a few minutes late and give me time to loosen up.
Nope, they are starting now!
The first row is off and heading into the woods, darn I have to pee.
Focus, stretch your hands and arms out. Get the blood drained, remember the course. What’s the plan?
Hold back, let the others go while your hands settle in. Once the hands are good, let ‘er rip. Ok, I can do that.
Juniors are off, we’re next.
Final self-check; boot buckles good, velcro on the gloves not too tight, elbow pads same, helmet strap snug, camelback straw in easy reach, bladder still filling.
We’re off.
As planned, I take my time. Standing, one hand off the bars and even waiving people ahead of me. “It’s a long race” I tell myself. Just get the hands and arms to calm down and then get at it.
Remember the course, through the field, down the slope, left across the puddle, up and right, small puddle, through another field between some small brush, then a short fast open spot with a sharp right.
A couple beginners play crash tag, #20 and #8. #20 looks hurt, his bars are bent down and he’s slumped over the bike. I stop, more people go past me, “are you ok?” he’s slow to answer but says he is and waves me on. Sweepers are coming around the bend so he has the help there is he needs it. I’m dead last now. That’s fine, it’s a long race.
I give the throttle a firm twist and catch up to a few riders, passing 2 and finally latching on to the fender of someone going at a comfortable enough pace to let my arms calm down. Settled in, I start to enjoy the course. What a great day for a ride. The rider ahead goes down crossing a log, so I slow down and wait. It’s a long race and I’m hands haven’t settled yet, but they are getting there. Just hold this pace and you’ll be good before mid-lap.
We’re off again and going at a nice pace, I’m thinking of the course and a good spot to pass. Mentally I have it picked out. At the top of the hill, there is a sharp right, then a nice open spot to blast past as the trail eases to the left.
Out of the trees, into the open field and heading for the hill. The little 200 is working well but can’t pull as fast down the straights, so I have to wait for the hill.
At the base of the hill are a few small kickers. During the parade lap most riders were chopping the throttle to clear them before hitting the hill. “That’s all I need and I’ll have the drive to pull clean past at the top” I say to myself, just stay left so you can still make the right hand turn at the top. Sure enough, the rider ahead, chopped but too much and lost his drive and fell ¾ up the hill. I was right behind and didn’t chop and committed to the same line. I had a choice, chop the throttle and turn or run over another rider. I made the wrong choice and chopped. With the soft dirt on the hill, it was like I had just dropped and anchor.
Turning the bike back down the hill was the only option. As I was heading down the side, 2 other beginners came up and crashed out on the hill. Totally blocking the path. Reviewing the helmet cam footage shows that I was stuck at the bottom of the hill waiting for over 5 minutes! At least my hands were limbering up.
Finally, they move out of the way and I click up to 3rd gear and blast up the hill. The little 200 is happy to get going again. There’s a lot of time to make up and the trails are smooth and fast, so 3rd and 4th gears are the choice.
Ooops, blew a turn heading into the trees. Remember that for next time! In the pine trees it’s tight (for me) and I stumble on a few tree roots. Stupid mistakes that wouldn’t happen if I was standing.
Onto some truck trails leading back to the check in there was this nice little 2 foot jump on a straight that was just a blast! It had a nice straight following it so you had plenty of space to slow down after hitting it in 3rd. It would have been fun to watch the really fast guys hit that and see just how far that little jump let them fly.
First lap done and I’m disappointed in my time. Steve-o and Dirtyboy are at the check-in and cheer me on.
Now to those that haven’t raced this type of event, seeing someone there cheering you on really does make you pick things up. Thanks for that guys!
Open it up.
This time around, there is no one ahead of me and I’m limbered up. So I push it a bit harder, but still holding back a reserve for a last lap sprint.
Remember the trails, that sapling in the short left hand uphill turn, the rotten log chuck before the wet root, that stupid branch that is trying to kill me!
This lap is almost 9 minutes faster, but I can do better.
Next lap, the fast guys are lapping me. I hadn’t thought of how much time you lose when you pull over for them. Each time someone comes up behind you, you’re looking for a good spot to pull over so that they can safely get around. It ruins your line, you get jammed up on “stuff” and then you have to pick up the pace again. I’m not complaining, I’m happy to pull over and let them go by, it just all adds up, a second here, 2 seconds there.
When a faster rider passes, I try to keep up for as long as possible. Maybe it helps to make up the difference.
The trail is getting beat in pretty good now. That sapling is bent, the rotten log chunk is in 3 pieces, where is that branch? Here comes a 40B rider, let him pass. As he goes past, there’s the branch! He hits it with his shoulder and it springs forward then back again, just as I get to it. The timing couldn’t be better. It harpoons me in the shoulder. I glance down and am surprised to see that there isn’t a pine tree growing out of my arm. I’ll just take a moment here to regroup, that wet root is just around the corner and I don’t want to take myself out on that.
The rest of the lap goes well, and I’m back and the check. Heading in, “did I make the cut off?” I yell. “You have 5 minutes!” is shouted back at me as I’m being scanned. Awesome!
A quick glance down and my gas is getting low but I’m easily good for another lap without needing a top-up. Now it counts
Out I go for the final lap and I’m literally yelling in my helmet to go faster. I have just enough energy left to get a lap in at 100% effort, or crash.
Coming out of some light shrub, into a field the bike is in 4th and WFO. OH SHHEEEETTT, a loose choppy downhill. A few tense heartbeats later, I’m still on the bike and trying to understand how. Think about it later, onward!
Coming back around to the branch, it’s here somewhere, where is it?? It should be right here! Nope!
So focused on spotting, and not hitting the branch and nearly put a hole through me on the last lap, I forgot about the wet root in the next turn. Still on the gas and leaning into the right hand turn, the front wheel just misses the root but the back wheel doesn’t. The back skids left, clears the root and finds traction again. A lot of traction! Now the bike is leaned over and the front wheel is way up in the air and I’m too far back on the bike to catch it.
Yuck, the dirt tastes like moldy bread! Body check, head good, feet/toes good, arms… right check, left OUCH! That shoulder took a hit!
It takes me about a minute to get the bike up and running again, the steering is a little off and I want an ice pack for my shoulder.
2 riders go past.
Back on the bike, I try to get back on pace but struggle for a few moments while trying to adjust to the new bar position. The hill climb is coming up.
3rd gear over the kicker and when the bike lands I give out a yelp! A shot of pain in my shoulder and with that lapse of focus I’m on the right side of the hill and trying to get back left. Over the small rock grouping another kick from the bike and I’m out of the grove and loosing speed. Crud. I just spun out and stalled!
By the time I start the bike again, another rider is heading up the hill. Another beginner, he’s past and on his way. A minute or 2 struggle to push the bike up the last 15 feet and I’m ready to go again. I have to catch that guy!
Pushing hard, the bike wants to go but between the push up hill and my get off, I’m just about out of steam.
At the end, the other rider was 14 second ahead of me and it turns out the other 2 that had passed me after my root crash were also beginners. So that last lap when I pushed as hard and fast as I could only to crash cost me 3 positions.
Lesson learned.
Next up, Porkies HS …….
The voices are back. Awesome!
Re: Chronicles of a Racing Beginner.
Nice story, its amazing how many little "adventures" happen out there in the course of a 2 hour race. Remember, its not about how you finished, but that you showed up and had fun! 
Re: Chronicles of a Racing Beginner.
I’m a bit slow getting this typed up. Seems that time hasn’t been on my side lately.
Race 4, Porkies HS.
A few days before the race the weather man said rain, lots of rain. By the luck of averages, he was right for a change. It rained!
A few days before the race, Thrityseven sent me a message, “change your tires”. He’s smarter than he looks! I made sure to pack a fresh rear sneaker, the front was still crisp so a new one wouldn’t be needed
We arrived Friday night and slipped the trailer into a nice cozy little corner. The skies didn’t look favorable, mostly dark clouds with little sun getting through. Silently I cursed those that practice rain dancing as a few drops fell while getting the trailer leveled.
The next morning started out promising, the dog had let me sleep in until 6 am before coming over and with a lick to the back of my hand, asked to be let out so she could chase gophers.
With the dog take care of, I made coffee, listened to the radio weather man and thought that I’ll need all my energy for the race so I took a nap. Is this what I’ll be doing when I’m old(er)?
Around 9:30 I got up and fixed up some more coffee and started getting ready for the day. Anne wanted to go for a ride later so I told her to have her breakfast while I changed the tire on my bike. Better to change it now while the bike is still clean.
Absurveyor stopped in shortly after I had remounted the wheel, he and his crew had found the course and were heading out to ride the loop. I should go ride it with them but I promised my wife I would ride with her. So I tell them to head on without me and report back about the conditions.
They wouldn’t return for almost 2 hours!
When they did, the report wasn’t bad. Good trails with only one hill that could be a challenge, a grassy side hill that will be slick and a loamy downhill to watch out for. Hmm. Not bad at all.
Up until that point the weather for the day had been dry.
A short time later, Anne and I head out for a short run. We found the course just across the road and up a short hill from where we were camped.
There had been a pretty steady flow of racers pre-riding the course and in some areas they had cleared away any dirt that had managed to dry up a little, exposing the slick substance underneath.
Anne got off to a bad start, dropping her bike a few times and just not having a good time. Since there are days when you just don’t seem to have your rhythm, we called it a day and pack up the bikes. Total distance covered on the course, about 1 km.
The rest of the day is spent relaxing, and enjoying the sun that was doing its best to dry things out. It was a futile effort.
Throughout the night there were times when the rain was only to be interrupted by biblical downpour, at least that is what it sounds like inside a travel trailer. I fully expected to look out the window in the morning and see fish!
When morning did come the skies were grey looked like they would soon open up again. Not good! I’m a bad enough rider under the best of conditions, but really suck on wet anything. Oh well, I’m already here just as well give it a go!
Heading down to the pre-race meetings, I meet some of the other club members that have come out for a day at the spa! Chatting with them helps to calm the nerves a little.
The meeting starts, some have elected to skip it, I don’t. If there is one thing I have learned is to listen carefully during the pre-race. The usual info is given; start order, trail markings, watch out for the barb wire fence and this golden tid bit, “the first 3 km are the worst”. Hopefully no one else was listening.
Armed with that info, I devise a plan!!!
The plan is simple. I struggle with arm pump at the start of any ride, a race is worse. So, I’ll try for an “ok” start, mid-pack(ish) and work my way through those that get by charging through the start and burning out in the first few KM of the course. The really fast guys will still get away but they would no matter what I do anyway there are a couple sandbagging intermediates that race in the beginner class! It’s possible that I could get bogged down by some but the trees are thin enough to find ways around them.
I have my backpack stripped to the bare minimum; for HS no tools just water, my pre-race routine is down pat (butterflies in stomach; check) and thanks to Thrityseven, a fresh tire. I’m ready for this!
The pros, 30’s, 40’s, juniors and everyone else are off. Just us beginners left now, 12 in all.
Our turn, the hand drops and we head out at break neck speeds, 10-15 kph! The earlier groups have churned up all the slop and we’re spinning wildly. Somehow I’ve managed to snag 4th going into the trees. One rider is on my tail, clearly faster at this point to I yell for him to pass as I give him room. Off he goes down the trail, then 50 yards ahead he hits the ground. I chuckle quietly to myself as I pass him.
Just as described in the riders meeting the course starts to get really slick and slimy about 1km in. Ahead there are about a dozen riders in a ditch like portion of the course. They are either stopped or moving very slowly. There’s already steam coming from a few. Some guys have their arms stretched out over their bars. They look like they are close to giving up.
Thanks to my fresh rear tire and my little KTM 200 being part Billy goat, I’m able to find just enough traction to keep going. Low revs and gentle clutch work seems to work well for me here and I work through the carnage!
Steadily the little 200 walks over the slime. Past one then another, then 2 more. Now past a junior and a few 40b riders!
As I pass some bikes, I give them a quick glance, old tires or less than new on most. I owe Thirtyseven a beer! The new S12 on the rear is working great on the slick mud that could easily pass as an industrial lubricant. Even a car wash in January isn’t as slippery as this mud!
Ahead of me are 5-6 riders stuck on a very light slope. So low is the grade that you almost don’t notice it but it’s there and the tire spins at the lightest touch of the throttle. A small log sits crosses the trail, I try to raise the front wheel over but I’m going too slow and the traction isn’t there and the front wheel just stops against it. The log is only about 6 inches! This is embarrassing! To save energy, I go around it! Further up the slope I pass a handful of bikes before making it up to a short section of quad trail where I stop to catch my breath.
The quad trail leads east for about 30 yards then cuts off leading north up another slow hill. Through the trees I’m unable to see how many bikes are stuck there but several can be heard revving out and clearly not gaining ground. White steam is everywhere and a few riders continue down the quad trail which leads back to the road. They’ve given up, less than 2 km into the race.
A young Sydor on a YZ125 pulls up, steam belching from his bike and asks what line looks best. “Not sure, maybe try left clear of the track”, I tell him. Off he goes, making good headway until a log gets the better of him. Thanks for pointing that out to me! Up I go, past him, dropping back onto the track and avoiding the log he’s hung up on. From there it’s clear sailing, well as clear as it gets in the muck!
Back in the trees, the roots aren’t as bad as expected. There’s still a good amount of dirt over them so the mud is the only real problem. My skill level isn’t high enough to give me the confidence to go fast enough to clear the mud from the front tire so it’s packed and looks like brown racing slick. Touching the front brake results in an instant skid.
3-4 km later I hear a bike closing in. It must be one of the 40b riders I passed at the start, then I look down at the speedo and notice the time. I’ve been on the bike nearly 40 minutes. Yikes! That bike coming must be a pro. Sure enough it is, the number isn’t familiar to me but he’s moving at a good pace, about 30 seconds behind him is Jason Schrage wearing a garbage bag to keep dry and clean. The mud and lack of traction doesn’t seem to bother either of them . They both will pass me 2 more times before the end.
Roughly 1/3 of the way through, the course cuts across the road and then heads down a short hill before heading up a long low grade slope. Nothing difficult in the dry, Exxon Valdez spill we’re on though has made it less than grippy. Think of riding up a water park slip ‘n slide and you’ll start to get the picture. Momentum is critical and a spin out near the base has cost me all of the precious little I had. Now the bike and I fight for every inch of ground we gain.
Ahead on the trail, Clint Riviere and (I think) Dave French are stopped. They watch a few riders struggle to clear a grease covered rock section and offer advice on how to tackle it. With my energy drained just trying to get to that point, it looks like a good place to stop and re-group.
Bark shows up a few minutes later. He’s looking like he’s got a good grip on things and just needs to take a short break as well. A few other pros or intermediate riders go past along with a handful of 40 a and b riders including Thrityseven, easily blasting up the hill and out of site. Silently I curse them and vow to make voodoo dolls of each and every one!
Finally caught up with my heart rate, the 200 gets kicked back to life. My plan is to come up on the right where the grip looks best, my back up plan, through the trees to the left. Unfortunately my start is at the same time as another rider and he gets to the slope just head of me and I have to cut the throttle to avoid hitting him. Screwed for momentum, the bike gets pointed into the trees but even that won’t get me up and the bike comes to a spinning halt. At least it’s upright but the angle is all wrong and the choices are; go back down or push. Since giving up my position will mean I would have to risk being stuck back down the hill again, I push. For the record, pushing a bike uphill with grease covered boots sucks donkey balls. The only saving point is that the 200 is a mountain bike with a motor it gets up the hill with only a bit of a struggle.
Having cleared the hill, I pull off at the top to ditch my goggles. They’ve become useless with a layer of mud on one side and fog on the other. Maybe my safety glasses will be a better choice. Two km later the answer is, no! They are muddy and fogging up. Wearing my jacket seemed like a good idea at the start of the race but now I’m sweating like a morphine addict in it and the only reason it hasn’t been tossed into the bush is because that would mean another rider out to get it after the race.
Carrying on down the trail, mud is starting to migrate into uncomfortable areas! Alarmingly when the front gets into a slide and the butt checks clench, I’m distracted by a “squish”!
This happens when I come to the grassy side hill Absurveyor had mentioned. It’s slick and on a good slope. At the bottom is a good path that runs next to a barb wire fence. That would be the choice line except that there is a rider down and tangled in with the fence, ouch! He’s ok but will be a while getting out. Jason Shrage goes past me again at this point, barely slowing down even his rear tire steps out.
A few km from the finish is the loamy downhill. That stuff is loose! The bike is hooking up well in it but it blows out from under the tires when turning or slowing down. A few more squishy butt clenches!
At the bottom is a rider with a KTM 350 he’s off the bike and looking for tools having fuel delivery issues he says. I note the location and let him know I’ll pass along the request for help at the finish line.
In the trees for another bit and the course heads down another slick grassy side hill, this one heading down to a ditch at the bottom. The front wheel looks like a muddy donut and as soon as it gets on the grass it tucks and puts me on my side. Trying to stand the bike up doesn’t work since it just keeps sliding down. Low on energy, the best choice is to just drag it 20 feet to the bottom.
In the ditch there’s a little bit of water running. My first ride ever with Dude, he mentioned that there is normally a good solid base for your tires under running water. So I aim for the running water and get on the gas. He was right, firm footing here and the splashing is clearing off some of the gorp.
The next few km are relatively easy, well broken in and open all the way to the finish.
It seemed like the course was 80km long but was only 23km, and it took me a bit more than 2 hours placing 6th of 12. I’m confident that the same course would take less than 40 minutes for me to complete in the dry. The pro’s would likely do it in 15-20 minutes!
Just to be clear, this course is awesome. The folks that put the race on have done a fantastic job of flagging and selecting a great course. The condition though were a bit challenging! This is only the 2nd race I’ve done at Porkies and still only my 4th ever but I have to say that if all races were like these, there would be hundreds of riders lined up at the starts. These people know how to do it right and make it fun. A huge thanks to all of them.
Next stop, Vega!
Race 4, Porkies HS.
A few days before the race the weather man said rain, lots of rain. By the luck of averages, he was right for a change. It rained!
A few days before the race, Thrityseven sent me a message, “change your tires”. He’s smarter than he looks! I made sure to pack a fresh rear sneaker, the front was still crisp so a new one wouldn’t be needed
We arrived Friday night and slipped the trailer into a nice cozy little corner. The skies didn’t look favorable, mostly dark clouds with little sun getting through. Silently I cursed those that practice rain dancing as a few drops fell while getting the trailer leveled.
The next morning started out promising, the dog had let me sleep in until 6 am before coming over and with a lick to the back of my hand, asked to be let out so she could chase gophers.
With the dog take care of, I made coffee, listened to the radio weather man and thought that I’ll need all my energy for the race so I took a nap. Is this what I’ll be doing when I’m old(er)?
Around 9:30 I got up and fixed up some more coffee and started getting ready for the day. Anne wanted to go for a ride later so I told her to have her breakfast while I changed the tire on my bike. Better to change it now while the bike is still clean.
Absurveyor stopped in shortly after I had remounted the wheel, he and his crew had found the course and were heading out to ride the loop. I should go ride it with them but I promised my wife I would ride with her. So I tell them to head on without me and report back about the conditions.
They wouldn’t return for almost 2 hours!
When they did, the report wasn’t bad. Good trails with only one hill that could be a challenge, a grassy side hill that will be slick and a loamy downhill to watch out for. Hmm. Not bad at all.
Up until that point the weather for the day had been dry.
A short time later, Anne and I head out for a short run. We found the course just across the road and up a short hill from where we were camped.
There had been a pretty steady flow of racers pre-riding the course and in some areas they had cleared away any dirt that had managed to dry up a little, exposing the slick substance underneath.
Anne got off to a bad start, dropping her bike a few times and just not having a good time. Since there are days when you just don’t seem to have your rhythm, we called it a day and pack up the bikes. Total distance covered on the course, about 1 km.
The rest of the day is spent relaxing, and enjoying the sun that was doing its best to dry things out. It was a futile effort.
Throughout the night there were times when the rain was only to be interrupted by biblical downpour, at least that is what it sounds like inside a travel trailer. I fully expected to look out the window in the morning and see fish!
When morning did come the skies were grey looked like they would soon open up again. Not good! I’m a bad enough rider under the best of conditions, but really suck on wet anything. Oh well, I’m already here just as well give it a go!
Heading down to the pre-race meetings, I meet some of the other club members that have come out for a day at the spa! Chatting with them helps to calm the nerves a little.
The meeting starts, some have elected to skip it, I don’t. If there is one thing I have learned is to listen carefully during the pre-race. The usual info is given; start order, trail markings, watch out for the barb wire fence and this golden tid bit, “the first 3 km are the worst”. Hopefully no one else was listening.
Armed with that info, I devise a plan!!!
The plan is simple. I struggle with arm pump at the start of any ride, a race is worse. So, I’ll try for an “ok” start, mid-pack(ish) and work my way through those that get by charging through the start and burning out in the first few KM of the course. The really fast guys will still get away but they would no matter what I do anyway there are a couple sandbagging intermediates that race in the beginner class! It’s possible that I could get bogged down by some but the trees are thin enough to find ways around them.
I have my backpack stripped to the bare minimum; for HS no tools just water, my pre-race routine is down pat (butterflies in stomach; check) and thanks to Thrityseven, a fresh tire. I’m ready for this!
The pros, 30’s, 40’s, juniors and everyone else are off. Just us beginners left now, 12 in all.
Our turn, the hand drops and we head out at break neck speeds, 10-15 kph! The earlier groups have churned up all the slop and we’re spinning wildly. Somehow I’ve managed to snag 4th going into the trees. One rider is on my tail, clearly faster at this point to I yell for him to pass as I give him room. Off he goes down the trail, then 50 yards ahead he hits the ground. I chuckle quietly to myself as I pass him.
Just as described in the riders meeting the course starts to get really slick and slimy about 1km in. Ahead there are about a dozen riders in a ditch like portion of the course. They are either stopped or moving very slowly. There’s already steam coming from a few. Some guys have their arms stretched out over their bars. They look like they are close to giving up.
Thanks to my fresh rear tire and my little KTM 200 being part Billy goat, I’m able to find just enough traction to keep going. Low revs and gentle clutch work seems to work well for me here and I work through the carnage!
Steadily the little 200 walks over the slime. Past one then another, then 2 more. Now past a junior and a few 40b riders!
As I pass some bikes, I give them a quick glance, old tires or less than new on most. I owe Thirtyseven a beer! The new S12 on the rear is working great on the slick mud that could easily pass as an industrial lubricant. Even a car wash in January isn’t as slippery as this mud!
Ahead of me are 5-6 riders stuck on a very light slope. So low is the grade that you almost don’t notice it but it’s there and the tire spins at the lightest touch of the throttle. A small log sits crosses the trail, I try to raise the front wheel over but I’m going too slow and the traction isn’t there and the front wheel just stops against it. The log is only about 6 inches! This is embarrassing! To save energy, I go around it! Further up the slope I pass a handful of bikes before making it up to a short section of quad trail where I stop to catch my breath.
The quad trail leads east for about 30 yards then cuts off leading north up another slow hill. Through the trees I’m unable to see how many bikes are stuck there but several can be heard revving out and clearly not gaining ground. White steam is everywhere and a few riders continue down the quad trail which leads back to the road. They’ve given up, less than 2 km into the race.
A young Sydor on a YZ125 pulls up, steam belching from his bike and asks what line looks best. “Not sure, maybe try left clear of the track”, I tell him. Off he goes, making good headway until a log gets the better of him. Thanks for pointing that out to me! Up I go, past him, dropping back onto the track and avoiding the log he’s hung up on. From there it’s clear sailing, well as clear as it gets in the muck!
Back in the trees, the roots aren’t as bad as expected. There’s still a good amount of dirt over them so the mud is the only real problem. My skill level isn’t high enough to give me the confidence to go fast enough to clear the mud from the front tire so it’s packed and looks like brown racing slick. Touching the front brake results in an instant skid.
3-4 km later I hear a bike closing in. It must be one of the 40b riders I passed at the start, then I look down at the speedo and notice the time. I’ve been on the bike nearly 40 minutes. Yikes! That bike coming must be a pro. Sure enough it is, the number isn’t familiar to me but he’s moving at a good pace, about 30 seconds behind him is Jason Schrage wearing a garbage bag to keep dry and clean. The mud and lack of traction doesn’t seem to bother either of them . They both will pass me 2 more times before the end.
Roughly 1/3 of the way through, the course cuts across the road and then heads down a short hill before heading up a long low grade slope. Nothing difficult in the dry, Exxon Valdez spill we’re on though has made it less than grippy. Think of riding up a water park slip ‘n slide and you’ll start to get the picture. Momentum is critical and a spin out near the base has cost me all of the precious little I had. Now the bike and I fight for every inch of ground we gain.
Ahead on the trail, Clint Riviere and (I think) Dave French are stopped. They watch a few riders struggle to clear a grease covered rock section and offer advice on how to tackle it. With my energy drained just trying to get to that point, it looks like a good place to stop and re-group.
Bark shows up a few minutes later. He’s looking like he’s got a good grip on things and just needs to take a short break as well. A few other pros or intermediate riders go past along with a handful of 40 a and b riders including Thrityseven, easily blasting up the hill and out of site. Silently I curse them and vow to make voodoo dolls of each and every one!
Finally caught up with my heart rate, the 200 gets kicked back to life. My plan is to come up on the right where the grip looks best, my back up plan, through the trees to the left. Unfortunately my start is at the same time as another rider and he gets to the slope just head of me and I have to cut the throttle to avoid hitting him. Screwed for momentum, the bike gets pointed into the trees but even that won’t get me up and the bike comes to a spinning halt. At least it’s upright but the angle is all wrong and the choices are; go back down or push. Since giving up my position will mean I would have to risk being stuck back down the hill again, I push. For the record, pushing a bike uphill with grease covered boots sucks donkey balls. The only saving point is that the 200 is a mountain bike with a motor it gets up the hill with only a bit of a struggle.
Having cleared the hill, I pull off at the top to ditch my goggles. They’ve become useless with a layer of mud on one side and fog on the other. Maybe my safety glasses will be a better choice. Two km later the answer is, no! They are muddy and fogging up. Wearing my jacket seemed like a good idea at the start of the race but now I’m sweating like a morphine addict in it and the only reason it hasn’t been tossed into the bush is because that would mean another rider out to get it after the race.
Carrying on down the trail, mud is starting to migrate into uncomfortable areas! Alarmingly when the front gets into a slide and the butt checks clench, I’m distracted by a “squish”!
This happens when I come to the grassy side hill Absurveyor had mentioned. It’s slick and on a good slope. At the bottom is a good path that runs next to a barb wire fence. That would be the choice line except that there is a rider down and tangled in with the fence, ouch! He’s ok but will be a while getting out. Jason Shrage goes past me again at this point, barely slowing down even his rear tire steps out.
A few km from the finish is the loamy downhill. That stuff is loose! The bike is hooking up well in it but it blows out from under the tires when turning or slowing down. A few more squishy butt clenches!
At the bottom is a rider with a KTM 350 he’s off the bike and looking for tools having fuel delivery issues he says. I note the location and let him know I’ll pass along the request for help at the finish line.
In the trees for another bit and the course heads down another slick grassy side hill, this one heading down to a ditch at the bottom. The front wheel looks like a muddy donut and as soon as it gets on the grass it tucks and puts me on my side. Trying to stand the bike up doesn’t work since it just keeps sliding down. Low on energy, the best choice is to just drag it 20 feet to the bottom.
In the ditch there’s a little bit of water running. My first ride ever with Dude, he mentioned that there is normally a good solid base for your tires under running water. So I aim for the running water and get on the gas. He was right, firm footing here and the splashing is clearing off some of the gorp.
The next few km are relatively easy, well broken in and open all the way to the finish.
It seemed like the course was 80km long but was only 23km, and it took me a bit more than 2 hours placing 6th of 12. I’m confident that the same course would take less than 40 minutes for me to complete in the dry. The pro’s would likely do it in 15-20 minutes!
Just to be clear, this course is awesome. The folks that put the race on have done a fantastic job of flagging and selecting a great course. The condition though were a bit challenging! This is only the 2nd race I’ve done at Porkies and still only my 4th ever but I have to say that if all races were like these, there would be hundreds of riders lined up at the starts. These people know how to do it right and make it fun. A huge thanks to all of them.
Next stop, Vega!
The voices are back. Awesome!
-
thirtyseven
- 2024 RMDRA Member
- Posts: 2110
- Joined: Mon Mar 28, 2005 3:59 pm
- Location: Cochrane
Re: Chronicles of a Racing Beginner.
Very nicely done Brass, I laughed when I saw you had putbup your race report because I was thinking about that H/S.... and how much different my mind set is this yr.
Porkies when wet highlights any and every defficiency in your riding... if you can manage a grin at the end youve done alright!
Porkies when wet highlights any and every defficiency in your riding... if you can manage a grin at the end youve done alright!
PRESIDENT-YAMAHA ANONYMOUS