It aint the years boy, it's the miles

If you took all the bashing, the smashing, and the crashing then you would probably look the way I do. -Chris Ledoux I don't race much enduro these days but I still do enjoy a good flog on old Molly. What better place than my old western colorado stomping grounds. The adobes. A lunar landscape lacking vegetation. Hardened sand dunes divided by rock littered ditches and back braking g-outs. For some reason I ride fast in this shit. And I like it. Especially the fast part. Saturday was the kids race followed by the hairscramble team race. Young Jake Miner raced his first off road race on the same 1986 XR80 that I raced my first off road race on. He got 2nd place. Lord Mick and I teamed up for the team race. I got the jump on the first corner. The local hotshot cut the 2nd corner and we went off into the desert side by side in a kamakazi roulete of macho throttle jockeying. He finally got scared and backed off. I led the rest of the first lap before handing it over to Mick who alternated laps with me until I took the checkered flag. It felt neat. All warm and fuzzy inside. Nice riding Mick. You old sack of dog shit. Your cool. Sunday was a 70 mile endure with 6 special tests. I gave it my best. Lots of dust and one pecker head who thought I had to "earn" passing him every fucking time I made up the minute on him. The fucking twat cost me some time. Ahhhh, any hoo, goosfrabahhhhh. I ended up tied for the over all. After breaking the tie with seconds over minutes I ended up third. 14 seconds behind 2nd place and 37 seconds from 1st place, the local hot shot

. Peace, Grease, and old bull riding country music.