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Place:
4th
Site: Slidell, TX
Current Standing: 6th, 183 points
Rocky Ridge. Rain. Rain is about as welcome at Rocky Ridge as John Rocker is at a minorities' rights group meeting. Most of the soil is hard-pack, and when it gets moisture, it turns to ice. It makes navigating the trails akin to sprinting around on a hockey rink with vaseline-covered sneakers. Well, the first part of Saturday looked great. The weather forecast had called for a 30-percent chance of isolated storms Saturday, Saturday night, and Sunday. Things looked great when we arrived at about 1:30 on Saturday afternoon, with only partly-cloudy skies. About 5:00 or so, a huge cloud mass appeared to the south and east. Uh-oh. It looked...threatening. Please don't rain, please don't rain.
Sunday morning arrived, and...it hadn't rained! Not only that, but the sky was completely clear. Woo hoo! I'll get to actually race, not just go out there and flop around for a couple of laps. Due to the morning race being quite long, our afternoon race was shortened to four laps, or approximately 34 miles. In an ill-guided attempt to once again show off for my fans, the green flag flew and I popped a wheelie. Damn it! Then when I got the front wheel down, the motor bogged like it was trying to foul a plug. Swell. The motor cleared out quickly, which is more than I can say for what my vision was at that point, due to my once again stellar jump off the line. A somewhat tricky tree section followed the first turn, which was a large sweeping left-hander. When I got to the trees, my first opportunity to make up spots appeared. It was a replay of the first mile of the Bonita race, with guys shooting off the trail, stuck, and/or just plain out of shape. I picked up two or three spots in that 20-yard section. A short sprint across a field followed, then hard on the brakes for a hard left-hand turn in a small group of trees. When I reached the turn, there was Brian Mullen (J95) sideways and upside-down off the trail, having overshot the turn and having met a tree. Wow. These guys are fast, but they appear to be a little over-anxious at the start. I guess being the slow guy off the line has some advantages, after all.
Despite my slow start, I had managed to catch up to the tail end of the lead pack pretty quickly. I dropped in behind James Willingham (J63) and tried to keep up, as he's one of those ultra-fast (insert curmudgeonly codger voice here) "damn kids". I was able to stay right with him, and the lead pack, for several miles, until the course dropped into a creek crossing that had a tricky, wet, slimy exit. My morning race scout Rob Cook had informed me that there were three lines exiting the creek, and the far right was the best one. In a truly dingbat moment, I chose the middle line, which didn't look too bad. I made it...almost all the way up the bank. A little too much throttle at the top caused my back wheel to slide out and I dumped it. Here came Curtis Pace (J8), Dwayne Gensler (J36), and who knows who else. Damn it again!! All right, no more mistakes! I got back by Gensler just after the checkpoint, and set out after the rest of the class. At the end of the first 8 1/2-mile circuit, I stood in 6th place.
I continued to push hard in pursuit of the youngsters. As I started lap two, none were within sight, but I knew they weren't too far off. Some of them, at least. Hopefully. Maybe one at least? In an ironic twist, I found the first one at the same creek crossing where I had lost ground on lap one. Curtis Pace had made the same mistake on lap two that I had made on the first lap. He was stuck on the exit of the creek, I this time chose the right line, and was able to get by. The leaders continued to hide, and I stood in fifth at the end of lap two.
At this point I just tried to keep a fast pace. Fifth would be a decent finish, but I knew I had to concentrate in order to avoid further mistakes and hold my place. About three miles into lap three, I found Craig Thompson (J93) and got by at a road crossing exiting a long section of low-speed, rocky tree-lined terrain. At about mile six, a freight train of 4-stroke experts motored by. There must have been six or seven that passed within a distance of one mile. At this point, my internal race dialogue produced this: "Mental note to self: do not consider buying a YZ400 and racing the 4-stroke expert class". I was unable to reel in any more of the super-fast 125 expert youngsters the remainder of lap three, and I stood in 4th starting the fourth and final lap.
I continued to push and concentrate on avoiding mistakes, as perhaps I'd luck into a spot or two as I had at Bonita. I was trailing Craig Pundt (J17), Nathan Price (J98), and James Willingham (J63). About four miles into the final lap, here came one of the kids. Just past a short hill that preceded some extremely rocky terrain, here came Brian Mullen past me. He had evidently been doing some impressive charging since his unfortunate detour at the start of the race. It was time to give everything I had left in order to keep up and try to get back past him. I was able to stay right with him and avoid mistakes for several miles. In a very technical tree section, I made a small bobble and discovered that not only was I trying to stay with Mullen, but Curtis Pace had caught us. He was that close to getting back by me. We exited the trees into a field with a long straightaway, and I was right on Mullen's tail as we hit the straight. I pinned the throttle, he did the same, and we discovered that his bike has exactly the same top speed as mine does. Neither of us gained any ground on the other. A short trip through the trees at the end of the straight, and we ran across the other side of the field in the opposite direction. We again hit the throttle, but I chose a smoother line exiting the trees and was able to gain some ground. I pulled beside him and we were going all out, side by side. In a moment of questionable judgment, I held the throttle on a little bit longer than he did, and got on the brakes really hard, barely making the left-hand chicane at the end of the straight. But I had gotten by. Only a few miles left, with really no extremely tricky sections left, and much of it high-speed. I made the remainder of the course my fastest portion of the race, giving everything I had left. Mullen stayed close behind, but I managed to avoid any mistakes and was able to stay in front to the checkered flag.
During the post-race B.S.ing with my fellow competitors, I discovered that I must look really old, or at least in comparison to the rest of the class. Craig Thompson pulled up and said, "Glad to see I'm not the only old guy in the class". I then inquired as to his age and he told us he is 28. Pffft. Just another whippersnapper. I hold the title of "Old Man of the Class", sir. Whereupon fellow Team O'Neal racer Nathan Price (J98), who had finished 2nd, told us to stop whining, we weren't old, we were "experienced". You know, he's right. Except I sure feel more "old" than "experienced" in the days immediately following races.
