Saturday I was meditating in my Japanese garden in the back yard, because it has the best chi in my house, and I asked myself; “What would J-Law do?”
So I grabbed the pregnant wife (because safety first when drinking), hopped in the minivan and drove to OKC and stayed in the bar’s till 2am. I got about 4 hours of sleep after getting back to Stillwater, jumped out of bed, loaded up and went racing.
The KTM was lookin’ swiggty swoot with the full fresh plastics and 1995 retro graphics and my gear only had minimal holes exposing my thermal undies and knee braces as I headed to the line. All the old dudes were sportin more wood than a lumber yard as I rolled up and the ladies didn’t get it. The bike looked trick is what I’m sayin.
I got off to an awesome start, my sloth-like hangover reflexes combined with my KTM’s penchant for never starting quickly on the line netted me a next to last place start in the over 30 expert/pro class. I ate a copious amount of dust but slowly picked people off throughout the first 3 laps. My first goal of the race was to pass Craig Chapman. He doesn’t like his new bike and I was hungover so we were on equal terms. I got by Craig shortly after completing lap one and started working on Morrow. I don’t know Morrow really, but I don’t like him all that much for no particular reason other than he rides a WR450 so passing him was important. I cut inside a turn stuffed him in a deep sand rut. He yelled. A mile or so later, I tipped over and he went by and yelled again. ITS ON LIKE DONKEY KONG. I proceeded to laugh at him on my way by when he went down in a painful to watch, low side in a slick turn at the end of a 4th gear field sometime in the next lap or so. Never saw him again.
Then Drew showed up to the party. Drew is one of those guys who just started riding and got ridiculously fast in a ridiculously short amount of time. I had seen him go down on the first lap and thought nothing of it as he popped right back up, but I hadn’t seen him in an hour or so until he showed back up on my tailpipe. I held him off for half a lap and saw the white flag so I put in a charge and 3/4 of the way around he unleashed the power of his KX450F as a lapper came into play and darted by me in a field. I was seeing red. maybe I was bleeding out last nights cosmos maybe It was rage. I put my head down, took his roosting like a bukkake champ and charged even harder into the last section of trail. I used every trick in the book besides blatant cheating and never could make a pass. I was on his fender as we went into the scoring chute and low and behold ANOTHER WHITE FLAG. WTF! I pressed onward into the dusty whoop filled abyss with all my might and just couldn’t make any headway on keeping Drew in sight let alone passing him.
So I gave up.
Then, the light at the end of the tunnel appeared. No, not the finish line with a checkered flag, my buddy Ellis. Who’s major goal is to beat me in a race. He started on the pro line today a full minute ahead of me and this track was definitely his style so I wasn’t surprised I hadn’t seen him all day. But there he was, 20 yards from the finish line, pushing his bike. I put in a last ditch effort and raced towards the finish with reckless abandon and beat him by about 15 seconds. Still got it. 8th overall, 6th over 30 pro.
Footnotes; Ellis ran out of gas a half mile from the finish while running 2nd pro and 3rd overall. He pushed it all the way in by himself, dropping to 3rd pro and 9th overall. I threw off my camel back around the 1 hour mark due to a bite valve malfunction after taking one sip from it.
Special thanks to Andy Seay for the picture at the top of the article.