This was the first race back after the mid-summer break. To say things had not quite gone my way during the off-time would be the understatement of the century. My mood this day was dark, my focus was elsewhere, I hadn’t slept much in the weeks leading up to this race, and was, as a result, in horrible physiological condition. But I was still leading the championship points and therefore had to show up to defend and try to at least maintain my lead, as Luke Brown (28S) was running strong and was hot on my heels. So, my mindset this day was screw it, I was either going to win this race or get carted out of here in an ambulance. That’s no exaggeration and, in retrospect, might be yet another understatement.
This was a big field; I don’t know how many riders were on the 45+ line that morning, but I’d say north of 30. Brian Dean was lined up immediately to my right, Luke Brown was all the way to my left at the opposite side of the line.
The start was a really cool arrangement. Dead engine, front tire in a small rut that ran the full length along the base of a tall, steep wooded hill. There was no run up to this hill, so as soon as you start moving, you’re immediately in a wooded hill climb. At my end of the line, there were only two possible lines the first several riders could pick, and only one of them was worth a damn. I looked over to my right and saw Dean scoping the same line. I sad ‘you going for that one?” he says ‘yup’, so I knew I had to go the instant that flag so much as twitched.
My starts hadn’t been very good so far this season. My reaction time was good, but there had been a problem with getting the bike fired quickly that I hadn’t been able to address until just a week or so prior to this race. Everything seemed to be ok now, but this would be the first start under race conditions.
So…our line is up. Front tire in the rut, right leg poised over the kickstarter, heart pounding, muscles tensed…the ‘TEN SECONDS” call is made…. It’s all I can do to not jump on that starter. A few more seconds and the flag goes up, the bike fires -immediately-, I dump the clutch, peg the throttle and am fucking g-o-n-e, baby. The entire field was in the dust behind me….it was a thing of beauty. As I crested that hill and hooked the left onto the main trail, I glanced over and saw all those guys who had picked the far left line getting tangled and jammed up with each other. I had no idea where the guys who started on my side were other than behind me, and that’s all that mattered.
I got the holeshot, got onto the main loop out front, and that’s where I stayed, flat-out for the next hour forty-five. All that other crap that had been weighing me down? Gone. It was just me, the bike, and the trail. The KTM was flawless that morning. The suspension soaked up everything I hit, settled perfectly into every turn, every rut, every berm, the engine tune was 100% spot-on, the tires hooked up like…I dunno, you get the idea. It was just layers-deep perfect. Everything just worked.
I don’t have much recollection of that race beyond what I just described….until, of course, what transpired in the closing few minutes.
We were getting towards the end of the final lap. I was pretty much home-free at this point; the second place racer was 45 seconds behind me, all I had to do was not screw up and the win was mine. There was no traffic to contend with, so….smooth sailing….right?
Yeah…..
Next thing I know, I’m on my ass. I couldn’t even begin to tell you what the hell happened, but there I was on the ground with the bike laying on its side a good fifteen feet that->>>way. I ran to the bike, picked it up and got it fired, but was so disoriented that I couldn’t find the trail. It had to be right next to me – it had to – but I simply could not find it. I rode around the woods in the direction I was certain I’d come from, but ultimately jumped back on at a point down the hill and well behind where I’d come off. I rode that last mile or two to the finish hoping I’d salvaged the win, but David Coulter got by and took the win 18 seconds ahead of me.
In retrospect, the reason for the crash and subsequent disorientation was simple; I bonked. Ran completely out of energy, the end result of how I had been treating myself in the days and weeks leading up to this race. It sucked hard, but it was a lesson hopefully learned.
We’ll get ’em next time….