Focus

To be racing is to always be chassing. Some dogs lay, some dogs chase. I have an insacious hunger to chase. A child of the 80's, a teen of the 90's. BMX bikes, Beasty Boys, and X-games. Draged away out to the rural life at 12. Traded in my bus pass for a 80cc two stroke dirtbike and never had a fair chance. An ignorant freedumb. A punk rock rebel with a mohawk feeding cows and fixing fence. Hand cuffed and stuffed too many times but I got my diploma. Just barrely. Punk rock turned into wasting more brain cells than I could afford. I turned to the dirtbike and it turned me to the world. Hard work rewards a privateer. I have called my self boss now for over a decade. But I am still racing. Still chassing.

Biting dust

I have been racing Hill Climbs now for 15 years and I can count the times that I have let my handlbars unintentionally touch the ground on an impatient piece-work carpenter's hand. I high sided my XR650 at Land's End two years ago coming out of a slow hair pin. I don't talk about it to many people but I did lay my SV down in practice at Pikes Peak but it was also a slow no harm lowside. The first year I raced Pikes I did the same during my race run up top in the gravel. I think during all of those I managed to keep at least one hand on the bars so I don't really count them as an actual crash. Last sunday, I crashed. It is getting hard to find roads we are allowed to race on so the club had a Hill Climb on basacilly a big fast autocross track at PPIR Speedway south of the big ol peak that is Pikes Peak. I arrived late after the 6 hr drive as I had to wait for mom to get home from work to take over taking care of little one. She had been home sick with me in the shop all week. No complaints! Quality time at it's finest. Even with a bout of Hand, Foot, And Mouth Disiase. Sure enough my throat started to feel sore Friday evening. I awoke saturday to sores on my toung, inside my throat and nostrals and worst of all on my feet and finger tips. It felt like I was welding slag steel naked. Saturday practice sessions were very wet and suited a motocross bike very well, I was running times fast as the few fastest cars. I think I had the fastest time all morning actually but as the track dried out and I began to feel more and more shit my times stayed the same and even began to slow by Sunday's race runs. My first race run was still 20 seconds faster than any other motorbikes so I secured the win but at the cost of what felt like whiplash in my neck. The kiddy daycare virus was taking a strong hold on me and in my 2nd race run it smacked me down like Mike Tyson. I was struggling keeping my front tire traction and took a high dicey line for some wideopen throttle surfing. My front wheel found a hidden big rock and I instantly gave into the high speed crash. My ol race leathers saved my ass, like a super hero's outfit, that chunk of cow hide is amazing. My bike got pretty banged up with a little ding on the rim, bent handlebars, and a holed stator cover. I like to think of it as paying dues. I watch my daughter learning and quickly evolving. It also makes me realize that as I get older I am going to have to constantly re-calibrate the relation of the gap betweeen my desires and my ablities...

Superbikers 1984 wide world of sports

I know I have posted some of these before but I still can't get enough of it. Right stuff at the right place during the right time. I know that if I would have kept racing for Roland Sands I would be having a blast with his series that is not much different than the old Superbikers. Oh if only didn't have so many slobbery tennis balls to chase. I am just a spazzed out dog chassing slobbery tennis balls! Every chance I get!!!