The Dirt Biker Chronicles

It was my first enduro race. The China Hat ISDE.

I wasn’t sure what to expect. I only knew from my one race that I wasn’t very fast. I had missed my window of potential twenty years earlier. By the time I raced my first race at 40, I was a has-been-never-was, too concerned about getting injured and the consequences thereof to be any good.

The idea to race China Hat started last fall. Our trail riding pals Mark and Tresa, avid racers, started an e-mail thread about racing some enduros this year. I was familiar with the Idaho City ISDE Qualifier and had ridden much of that course trail riding. I like the technical single-track terrain much better than the open, fast terrain desert racing offers. An enduro seemed like the race for me, if there ever was such a thing.

Mark had raced China Hat before and had good things to say. It didn’t take long to get a group committed to going. When registration opened up in February, six of us signed up.

Signing up was the easy part. It’s easy to commit yourself to something months down the road. When the race weekend rolled around, however, my anxiety began to grow.

I had signed up on the same minute with two friends, Steve Carr and Tamera Gomez. We were all novice racers. Steve and I signed up for the Sportsman Class while Tamera was in the Women’s Class. Both classes were one 46-mile loop and on the C-Class time schedule.

With our starting minute set to 10:32am and the main race starting at 9am, I had thought we’d be to the rear of the race with other C-type classes. I found out Saturday night before the race that besides the Pro and AA Classes, all the other classes were mixed together. “Great”, I thought. That meant for sure I’d have faster riders coming up behind me.

Next I heard that the terrain was all ATV trail and that the first loop would run through a lot of open desert. “Nice,” I told my friends, “I came all this way to race a desert race.” I had hoped for technical forest riding. I felt much more comfortable signing up when I thought it was going to be a traditional, technical enduro.

From the moment I woke up on race day the intensity grew. I kept telling myself, “stick with the plan: ride a good consistent trail pace, don’t ride over your head, don’t worry about the time, just focus on finishing.”

I was doing okay with my nerves when it came time to get our bikes and lineup for our start. I was resigned to my fate, trying not to think about the race to avoid stressing. Tamera didn’t help my nerves any by asking me at least twice, “don’t you feel like throwing up? I feel like throwing up I’m so nervous.”

Tamera, Steve and I planned to try and stick together as much as we could. We’d let Steve go first, then Tamera, and I’d follow her. If it worked out right, we’d pretty much ride together as a team. 

Well, of course, it didn’t work out right. Tamera’s bike wouldn’t start when our minute came up. Steve and I waited a good 30 seconds into our starting minute before we decided to go.

Now it was just Steve and I together. That didn’t last long either. It was dusty so we had to spread out, and within five miles I had some faster guys passing me and getting between us. I was on my own.

The first checkpoint was 17 miles and we had 45 minutes to get there. I had a stop watch taped to my tank, but I was so amped up at the start I forgot to start it. Therefore I had no idea of how I was doing on time, but I kept reminding myself not to worry about time, just ride.

The terrain was not hard at all. There were only two decent hill climbs. They only caused me problems because other riders crashed on them in front of me and when I got there I had to get around them to get up the hill. On the first hill it messed me up and I stalled 3/4ths of the way up. I had to push out of a sand hole my rear tire had dug before I could get enough traction to finish the hill. On the second hill a rider who had passed me was stuck halfway up. I got by him and up the hill, but I later pulled off to let him pass me again.

It seemed like it took a long time to get to that first checkpoint. I was sure I was behind my minute so when I got there I rode to the front of the line of riders waiting for their minute; basically the six guys on minutes behind me that had passed me. To my surprise it was my minute on the nose, 11:17. I couldn’t believe I had made it on time. I didn’t see Steve there, so I figured I must have literally missed him by seconds.

The second section was 16 miles and I had 51 minutes to get there on my minute. It started out with a special test. That’s where you’re timed riding as fast as you can for five to ten miles. It was real fast terrain. I had my 200 XCW wide open on at least three stretches. Somewhere in there my tool pack lost a bolt and my tools all came out. I had to stop and rig it to stop if from flapping all over. After the special test section we finally went into the forest. By this time I was beginning to feel more relaxed mentally.

I came up on one of the guys who had passed me who had pulled over under a tree. I stopped and asked him if he was okay. He said he was just resting up from all of the whoops. After a couple of minutes of resting and taking a drink we both took off.

A few miles later I came to the second checkpoint. Again I had forgot to start my stop watch so I didn’t know if I was early or late. I assumed it was close to my minute, which was 12:08.  I rode up to the front and saw that it was 12:04. I was early, and just when I was noticing that I heard Steve calling my name. I hadn’t noticed him in the group of riders when I pulled in. It was good to see him again after 33 miles of being separated. He had thought I might have stayed back with Tamera because he didn’t see me leave the start shortly after him. I told him I didn’t know where she was. She had not been able to start her bike while I was there so maybe she had dropped out.

Section three was the start of another special test. I let Steve go first and then I followed him from a distance to keep out of his dust. It was 13 miles to the finish line and we had 43 minutes to make our time.  I was feeling confident that I could make the time by continuing with the same pace I had been riding. Once the usual fast guys behind me passed me, I felt I had it made. “Just don’t be stupid and wreck, ” I thought to myself.

This time I had remembered to start my stop watch at the check. I could tell I was ahead of schedule by the halfway point of the section. I caught a glimpse of Steve up ahead of me here and there in an open stretch. It finally felt like we were riding together somewhat. I began counting down the miles on my odometer, getting excited to finish.

When I crested the hill that dropped down to the pits it felt glorious. I knew I had made all my times. I had not counted on that happening and I was jacked I did it. It was joyous rolling into the pits and seeing my wife Patty there, waving and video taping.  You are allowed to cross the last check up to fifteen minutes early without a penalty and I crossed the finish line at 12:42, nine minutes ahead of my scheduled minute.

The first thing I asked Patty was, “what happened to Tamera?” Patty told me she had got her bike started about five minutes after we left her and headed off into the course. About 20 minutes later Tamera rode in and crossed the finish line. That doubled my good mood. I was so proud of her to persevere and finish the race all on her own. Our plan to ride together had fell apart and yet she dug in and got it done. Totally commendable.

It was a memorable day. Though I had hoped for a more technical course, I had met my only goal of finishing the race. Getting a perfect route score as well was more than I had hoped for. When I found out a couple of days later that I had won a Silver Medal, it was frosting on the cake. In my second ever motorcycle race and my first enduro, an over-the-hill, slow guy like me gets a medal. It can’t get much better than that.

I haven’t decided if I’ll race again or not. It’s an intense experience and I’m not going to get much faster at my age. I have not illusions of grandeur. But if I do race again, it’s going to be an enduro. As a trail rider, the format and rules make it the ideal race.

Filed under: The Dirt Biker Chronicles on May 4th, 2008