Desert Racing for the Forest-Dwelling Being
My sudden relocation to the far reaches of desperate Eastern Nevada played heck with my plans to race the winter/spring enduros in NorCal. Not only was I suddenly 6 hours further away, but the replating of my 300 exc cylinder took for freakin' ever, due to a variety of mishaps and misrepresentations that would have been comical if they happened to someone else, but were sort of annoying since they happened to me. As it happened, my bike was not only not ready for the Quicksilver (which I skipped because I moved that weekend), but it was touch and go as to whether it would be ready in time for Virginia City, a mere 2 months later. At the same time, my house purchase in the booming metropolitan center of Ely was also delayed for over two weeks, due purely to the thoughtlessness and unpreparedness of others. So, I did what any sensible, single dirtbiker would do when confined to a 27' travel trailer with only a klx330 to ride; I started bike shopping! I found out about a good deal on an '04 250sx on a Friday, and on Saturday I drove to Mammoth (4.5 hrs away) to pick it up.
It's a good thing I bought a new bike, since I finally got my cylinder back the week before the race. My exc was still in Truckee, in storage, partially disassembled (I didn't want to move it until I put it back together, to minimize the chances of losing small parts), so I didn't get it reassembled until the night before the race. Luckily I had plenty of time that weekend, since all I had to do was rebuild my bike, empty my storage unit and load everything into a cargo trailer, load up a bunch of furniture a friend gave me, do a brutal off-road race, drive back to Ely, and unload furniture. Are you jealous?
Rather than use a race for the first ride on my newly replated cylinder and new piston, I opted to race the 250sx. That was kinda good, in that it's a VERY light bike, so pushing it back up the hill to my truck from the tech inspection wasn't quite the deathmarch it could have been. On the other hand, the sx has much stiffer suspension, which might not be what a wise person would choose for one of the rockiest races in the history of the explored universe.
Virginia City gets a huge field, so instead of the normal mass start they send 10 or so riders off every 15 seconds. The race starts right on the main street of this historic silver mining town before dropping down to the edge of town and on to the race circuit. It was a beautiful day, so even though it took forever for things to get underway, it wasn't too bad hanging out in the sunshine with a few hundred other dirtbikers.
When we finally got underway, I slid to the back of my group, and lounged along until we hit the dirt. Holy &$#*! I've never seen such dust in my entire life! I'm kind of a wuss as a dirt bike racer, so I tend to slow down a little when I can't see a freakin' thing and for all I know I could be heading off a cliff. All of the sudden, even jeep roads become technical when you have at most 5 feet of space in which to react, between when you see something, and when you hit it. That first lap there were a number of short bottle-necks. Usually what happened is one person flailed and/or fell, and then the next person (or the next 25 persons) couldn't see until it was too late to make much of a line adjustment. The loose dust and rocks also complicated the process of getting a revvy motocross engine moving again on the uphills. I had to get off and push in 2 or 3 different places that first lap. All those same sections were fairly easy on the remaining laps. A couple times I was saved by my habit of slowing and letting a little gap open when I'm following someone and we reach the bottom of a steep or technical climb. Then,if the rider in front does something silly, I have a few more yards to react and get around without losing momentum. Of course, in a big race, I also to have to get wider when I do that, and try to keep the guy behind me from coming around and flailing in front of me.
This year's race course was about 25 miles around, and passed through a wide variety of terrain. There were rocky uphills, rocky downhills, and rocky flat sections. There were loose rocks, and there were firmly placed rocks. There were also dusty rocks, and a fair amount of rocky dust. Mostly, it was rocky. There are essentially zero technical difficulties on the course in normal riding conditions, but when trying to hurry, and when unable to see, and when hundreds of other spodes are flailing all around you, things become more challenging. My favorite part of the course was a long gradual climb up through a streambed. The upper secion was pretty much a bunch of grapefruit sized rock ball-bearings which prevented any kind of normal turning or accelerating maneuver. All one could do is apply gentle suggestions to the bike as to where to go, and hang on for the ride wherever it decided to aim itself.
The best part about the staggered start is it means there are always a few fast guys who registered late who will come flying up behind you, and shower you with rocks as they disappear into a rocky cloud of dust. One fellow on a big yamaha 4-stroke went by me in a hurry, and kind of unnecessarily stuffed me into a corner, actually. A hundred or so yards later, he started swapping and bouncing in the rocks, and then just ejected at about 40 mph. I had a momentary clear vision of bike and rider each 5-7' in the air and sideways, before they landed and kicked up so much dust I could barely avoid the mess. I kinda figured that was a hospital crash, but I think he lived. I think he passed me back later that same lap. I guess that's what good protective gear will do for you.
At the end of one of the laps, there's a few hundred yards of pavement, and some frisky fellow on a big ktm 4-stroke was trying to take advantage of the smooth surface to get by me. I guess he gassed it too hard coming out of the corner, cuz he was right on my tail, then I heard "whoosh, scrape, clank, clackita-clackita, crash!". I looked back to see him and his bike sliding to independent stops. One more reminder to be careful out there.
I was taking a real beating from the stiff suspension on my bike, and my right hand especially was really cramping up. All the way through the 3rd lap I was really looking forward to the finish. I pulled in to the line, and the guy said "you wanna do another lap? There's still time" I thought about that momentarily, and said "umm, not particularly." Then I looked at the line of guys checking in at the finish. I figured if I kept going, I would instantly pass all those wusses, so off I went. The last lap was pretty grim, but at least I was SURE it was the very last lap. I got into a running battle with what looked like a teenager on a ktm. He was flailing even worse than I was climbing up in the rocky streambed, but I couldn't quite get around him. Every time I left the main racing line to try to go around, the bike just started flopping and bouncing around. We both caught up to a slower rider about 2 miles from the end, and after 98 uneventful miles, I got my weight too far over in a corner, and couldn't compensate when a rock bounced me sideways as I was attempting the pass. I flopped to the ground at about 25 mph (first crash on my new sx!), then picked everything up and continued to the finish at a more sedate and leisurely pace.
Somehow, it appears that I managed to get a trophy despite my spodely behavior (14th in Sr Amateur). Not sure i'll display anything that says "14th" on it, but I guess it's better than last. I certainly learned a great deal about how not to set up suspension for a rocky race. At this point, I can't say if I'll ever do that race again. Most of the course was pretty boring except for the rocks. Only the one rocky canyon had anything technical, which is probably my strength in racing, if I have one. Also, I found the dust on the first lap to be truly horrifying. I'm just not willing to take risks to go fast in those conditions, so I'll always get beat by the 50% of the risk-takers that luck out and don't break any bones that day.
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