The track was at a beautiful new complex. It looked superbly bitching. But they fucked it up in preparing it making for some very rough rutted tank slapper, feet off the pegs superman style, chuck the dice and hold the fuck on racing.
Turns out I am not as fast as #12 Brad Baker. Big surprise. I did not make the main on my bottle rocket of a 450. In the B-main I managed to beat a few people and on my good old trusty twin I took 3rd in a money class and 2nd in an am class. What was a surprise was seeing how terrifyingly fast Baker was in practice and the heats. full throttle, bouncing off the rev limiter fully backed out and leaned over all the way into the corner only letting off the throttle after his corner entry. Chunks of the track were flying. And of course the arrogant little twat was hamming his "12o'clock4life" wheelies all to much. But then the main event come; Brad out front, wait, who is hounding him. It's local here and pikes peak legend Davey Durell, He cleanly passes brad using different creative lines and holds Brad off for nearly the entire race. Brad finally gets around the 50 year old veteran clearly trying as hard as the young current GNC points leader can try. It was one of the most impressive races I have ever seen. Since the first time I met Davey, shredding Pikes Peak and tapping my elbow with his finger tips as he flew by me, he never ceases to flat out amaze me. What a hero he is. And a modest, friendly, humble family man at that.
Thanks to Tommy's Triumph Shop, aka; Cowboy for the help in the pits, the good times, and the camper. No extra duct tape was needed to get the old potato shaped capsule of cosmic coolness home.