For the win

 

Last corner, last lap, for the big win :)

Racing ...again!

 A John Prine lyric: "She reminds me of a chess game with someone I admire or a picnic in the rain after a prairie fire."  

Last weekend saw no fires neither rain but it was sure one hell of a welcome breath of fresh air to go racing for the first time in 259 days. Since my last race I have found out that I have a little baby girl on the way. Talk about an impactful statement. Love. It has been over a month now and a few CT scans, lung tests, and medical evaluations since I foolishly allowed myself to get shit-whipped of my dirtbike and my carcass is still sore but healing up well. I was not sure how I would perform this past weekend at the vintage trials and motocross back in my beautiful home town of Steamboat Springs. I started to prepare a couple of weeks ago by digging up the bones of an abandoned 1974 Yamaha TY250 trials bike from my bone yard. A previous owner had frankenstiened a YZ tank, mystery seat/ exhaust combo, and some deadly ATV or ATC foot pegs. I did what I do and deemed it competition worthy. Though surely not going to win any beauty contest it did get some grumbles and giggles from the vintage purist. 

Friday morning I loaded up and met up with the Kustom Coach Works (KCW) crew and convoyed out to my old home town on the best back roads I could think of to show off to them and their super cool vintage VWs. They usually spend about 100 nights a year sleeping in their rigs exploring the world near and far. Needles to say they are special people and I think they are top shelf cool. Big Ben had a fresh built old Honda trials in tow behind his 1950's bus equipped with a subaru engine. Saturday was the trials day and Ben did his first competition trials in 12 years. Talk about a dry spell. He impressed me immensely with his solid riding doing way better than people one third his age (and height)!  I flailed something awful on my first loop dabbing like a dog on a skateboard and dropping fives like a frat boy in the champagne room. I managed to get my act together by the final loop and zero every test but one but the overall winner only dropped one on all three loops so a repeat victory from my last time was not to be had. I actually got beat by many but I was having a blast. Post trials beers were drank.

The Dick Man Premier Classic BSA 500 I rode in the motocross two years ago was not able to make it out to the race due to a last minute transport breakdown so the owner of the ranch that hosts the whole weekend offered me up his 1960 BSA Catalina with a Dick Man worked over chassis. Talk about catching a break. All that I can say is that I am a lucky dog. I said that I would do my best to bring it back in the same condition. I tried not to listen when I heard what these old dirtbikes sell for. And then there I was Sunday morning, lined up with my clutch finger twitching as my eyes registered a dropping green flag. Seconds later I was flying into a corner behind somebody in sacrilegious neon green modern mx gear and a full face helmet. His rear tire blasted me for the next four laps while I learned my bikes character and mostly concentrated on breaking with my left foot and up-shifted by going down with my right foot. I nearly cooked a few corners and knew if i were to pass the faster rider I would need to make a pass on the inside line without somehow turning us both into a dusty bloody ball of expensive and very heavy vintage iron. 2nd place was fine. The 2nd moto would be my time to make a move. And it was. The last corner of the last lap... I saw an open door and I took it. There was slight contact, Whoooping and hollering as we drag raced across the finish line. I won by a wheel length. A pass of a life time. I was so winded I got my helmet off and felt like my lung was collapsing again. I ingested much dirt and more epic glory than any ol dog could ever dream of. What a blast!!!

I am so fortunate to be around the quality people I am surrounded with and can not even begin to thank them enough for their generosity, allowing me to pilot amazing bikes and just spend time together picking up dust. Much!

Looking back moving forward

 I am at the age where I am becoming aware of how much I talk about the way things used to be. "Back in the good ol days I used to race the Baja 1000 with bare feet both ways without a chase truck and eat only doughnuts! You little whipper snappers with electric start and 'I EAT ASS' bumper stickers couldn't eat your way through a wet tortilla!"