Get off the couch and ride. The long spell since the last time I raced motocross has been a long one. Some vintage mx once or twice in the previous few years but the gate drops at Glen Helen were full and intense. I saw bodies slammed, hurled and ground into the decomposed granite like dog shit on the sole of a commando boot. And one of those bodies was mine. Two classes in three days of three moto format was tough but not as tough as the off camber square edge bumps. The random mogul whoops. The ledges in the landings and worst of all the holes right before the lips. I loved it in morning practice but by noon the 1200 entries had the pristine moist loam turned into a mine field of wrist popping back breaking neck whipping agony. It was great and I had a lot of fun. I had originally signed up for 40+ and the 125cc class but I was not able to come up with a 125 bike so I thought about switching to the 40 pro class but then in practice Mike Brown made me his bitch and honestly the track scared the shit out of me so I opted to race 35+ Expert and 40+ Expert. In the first 35+ moto I did good with a 7th out of a full gate but I was completely pumped up, wrung out, and broken. The track required someone of my physical condition some restraint. I settled into a more subdued rhythm in the first 40+ moto with a 10th. Then next 35+ moto found me in the first lap a bit too hard on the front brake while blitzing down the steep Mount St Glen Helen hill while the rear wheel hit a kicker of a breaker bump. I went over the bars quick and hit the ground hard with no time to prepare. I think my 2006 CRF450 landed on my elbow and knocked the wind out of me. I cruised around for a lap and went back to the van to knock the sand out of my helmet and straighten my bike up. Before the blood and sweat dried from my face and nostrils I lined back up for the 40+ and took another 10th from a full gate. I slept like a lamb with a bag of ice on my swell-bow that night. I awoke Sunday morning, I wolfed down cold mexican leftovers from a Styrofoam, had two cups of motel room coffee and strapped on my cold wet dog smelling helmet. I ended up 12th in 35+Expert with 7,20,11 motos and 8th in 40+Expert with 10,10,8 motos. Not bad for a 19 year old bike I plucked out of the trash bins and an old fart who remembers getting holeshots and having a head of hair to pomade up. The best part was riding in a van with Mick. Something we haven't done together in many moons. Our friend Jason aka: Pussy Feet, who talked us into this race blew up his KX500 in his first moto but he shook it off and had fun anyway keeping us in good cheer. The Lambrick Bros who helped me at the flattrack AM Nats last year kicked us some gas money and tagged along in spirit so I reckon the older I get the more I enjoy some comradery despite being the lone desperado I have played for so many years. No trophies were won at this race but a lot of heart was felt.
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