Idaho City 100 2009
Well after three times of signing up over the last three years I finally made it to the Idaho City 100 and competed. This is an event that I have wanted to attend since I first heard about it many years ago.
I left my home in Sunland Tuesday morning May 26 and drove to Cedar City Utah to spend the first night, and other than the freeway getting shut down for POTUS in Las Vegas the trip to Cedar City was uneventful. Unlike two years ago when my transmission went south at the State Line area which abbreviated my first attempt at the IDC 100. The next morning I was on the road at 0700 local time and I arrived at the Mountain Pines RV park in Idaho City around 1930 local time, got my RV set up and went down to Trudy’s for a great dinner.
Thursday morning was cool, clear and crisp and found me sitting on the patio at Trudy’s for a great breakfast looking across the street at the empty pit area for the event. After breakfast I walked over to the pits and struck up a conversation with a gentleman setting up a small toy hauler with bikes in the back of his truck to see if I could find out any information on the upcoming event. He was a super nice guy and we chatted about the event and what it was going to be like. I asked him what class he was going to compete in and he went on to tell me, and that he was looking for someone to pilot one of his bikes, and then introduced himself as Lynn Hodges, the owner of Pro Moto Billet. A quick glance at the personalized license plate on his truck confirmed that he was the owner. He went on to explain that he was setting up this trailer for Chili White’s parents, and that he was riding this year’s event in the B5, the same as me.
About this time a very attractive lady walked around the corner and Lynn introduced me to her, Nina White. I asked her if she is the sugar momma in Sugar Momma racing and she responded with a yes and a laugh.
I spent the next few hours’ kind of checking out the pit area and the town. Really cool old mining town with lots of builds dating back to the mid 1800’s. Some pretty interesting folks living there as well. All I met were friendly, and all admitted this is the biggest event of the year in town. I had dinner that night at Trudy’s, and enjoyed a nice conversation with Chili White about the event. I had asked him for any advice he might have, and his main advice was to drink plenty of water since we were going to be out there for about 7 hours, and to be sure and take along some food as well.
Thursday night was cool and actually a little chilly and it didn’t get dark until about 10:00pm.
Friday dawned cool with a few high clouds rolling in, and it wasn’t as crisp as it had been the day before, a portent of things to come. My friend Tim, an old racing and riding partner, who I had not seen since he moved there two years ago and now lives in Emmett ID, came up Friday morning and we had breakfast together at Trudy’s. We have stayed in close contact so there was no catching up to do, but, the IDC 100 was a first for both of us so were just watching rigs roll in to the pit area as we ate breakfast.
After breakfast we wandered over to the pit area to check things out. The previously empty lot was filling up quickly and was a veritable bee hive of activity with people setting up and others riding out to the jetting area on the other side of the river. We walked on over the bridge and were checking out the dirt to see how it compared with our own experiences elsewhere. By this time it was about noon and the Sun was beating down in earnest and I was really wishing that I had brought a hat with me. The temperature was easily 15 to 20 degree’s hotter than it had been the day before. The weather prediction for race day was in the mid nineties, and there was a slight chance of thunderstorms predicted for today. Sadly the Thunderstorms never materialized.
Friday afternoon came, and at 3:30pm sign up and tech opened. Standing in line was quite hot as there was no breeze and no clouds in the sky. I found myself wanting a hat again, a hat that I did not bring. Sign up was a relatively easy affair as I had signed up on line weeks in advance. You had to bring your helmet with you, and they attached a transponder that was the same dimensions of a credit card on the bottom side of your visor. Once I was in line, and seeing everyone with their helmets in their hands made me realize that I of course had forgotten my helmet. My friend Tim who had ridden his Harely down to sign up went back to my hauler and retrieved my helmet before leaving for home. I would see him in a couple of days as I had planned to stay a few days after the event at his house in Emmett, about 40 minutes away.
Everyone in line was really chatting it up and exchanging stories about past races, where each other was from, and just general dirt bike talk. Lot’s of really friendly people anticipating a great ride through the forest. The same was true at Tech inspection which was across the road from sign up and next to the impound area. Seemed like most people, as well as myself, were anxious to get their bike in the impound area and be done with it.
I took my bike down to tech/impound and put on my numbers, 95C, for Saturday. This was also a painless affair and the sound check line moved quickly. My 570 blew an 89db at 3825 rpm. I parked my bike in impound, where I am told they had an enthusiastic group of guards that would be there overnight to keep vigil on all the bikes. The gas trailers supplied by the club would not be in place until Saturday morning to take all the competitors gas cans to the pits, two of which were closed, and one that was open.
My friend Tim’s son Matt showed up around 6:00pm in the pits while I was talking with Nick Hammil, and David Kamo. Nick is a kid from my neighborhood, D-37, and David Kamo rides with my friend Tim’s youngest son Kevin. Matt and I checked out the rest of the pits and then hung out for the evening catching up on things, as I hadn’t seen him for about 3 & ½ years, since he moved up there for work. Friday evening came and it was much, much warmer than it had been on the previous two evenings.
Saturday morning dawned warm and humid. I went down to the community center at 7:00 am to get my route times. The club had promised to have them up “as close to 7 as possible”. When I got there at 7 there was nothing, waited around until 7:30 and still nothing. By now there was a decent sized crowd there looking for the same thing as me. The route sheets were also supposed also supposed to be posted on the “propane tank” down at Tom’s service near the start as well. Since there was a mandatory riders meeting at 8:00 am I headed down to the “tank”. When I got there it seemed like everyone was there trying to get their route times. I had my pad and pen and managed to get up front and write down the times and mileages.
I knew that Velospaiens and Lizzard Killer were going to be at this event, but, since there was no cell service here I didn’t have the slightest idea of how to find them. However, while waiting for the riders meeting to start, on a hunch after over hearing someone’s conversation, I asked if they knew them and they pointed me in the right direction. It was great to finally meet Velo and Lizzard killer after reading their posts for the last several years. They were very nice indeed and we wished each other a successful day on the trail and went our separate ways.
Route Checks:
Check #1 (start) to Check #2 45 minutes 11.5 miles.
Check #2 to Check #3. 89 minutes 24.0 miles. Gas Pit “A”
Check #3 to Check #4. 54 minutes 15.5 miles.
Check #4 to Check #5. 40 minutes 10.0 miles. Gas Pit “Emergency”
Check #5 to Check #6. 105 minutes 27.5 miles. Gas Pit “B”.
Check #6 to Check #7. 70 minutes 22.0 miles.
Check #7 to Finish. 10 minutes 2.0 miles.
or check #8.
Finish (#8) to Impound. 15 minutes.
Pit Distances:
Start to Pit “A” 35.0 miles.
Pit “A” to Emergency Gas 25.0 miles.
“E” to Pit “B” 25.0 miles.
Pit “B” to Finish 27.5 miles.
With 50 miles between the A pit and the B pit, I would be stopping at the E gas for prudence sake. I’m pretty sure that I could make the 50 miles but it would be close. And most other riders must have felt the same way as the E gas trailer was just as full as the A and B gas trailers, albeit with mostly smaller cans. Funny really, just a week before the event I got an email from the Boise Ridge Riders saying there would be 4 gas stops, 2 mains and 2 emergency, and the distances wouldn’t be more than 40 miles. Since the race was so long, and weather was predicted to be in the mid 90’s, I taped two .5 liter bottles of water onto my gas cans to dump into my Camel back. The Boise Ridge Riders would have water available at all the gas pits and route checks. And throughout the day all of the check workers asked me how I was doing and whether or not I needed any water.
The riders meeting didn’t get going until about 0830, and the President of the club gave a great speech on course markings, safety, and to be sure and drink plenty of water. The meeting lasted all of about 10 minutes or so. I dropped off my gas cans at the three gas trailers, A gas, E or emergency gas, and the final gas pit, the B gas.
I headed back to my hauler to have some breakfast and get dressed as my minute, 95, was still almost 2 hours away. When I got back to my hauler I made out a small route sheet to tape to my front fender bag, and made up a pair of goggles with roll offs on them, and painted some baby oil on the filter foam of the goggles to keep the dust out. Everything else went smoothly before heading back down to the start area. Now I was starting to get some butterflies!!! Finally after 10 years of thinking about it, and the third try in three years I was finally going to start the IDC 100!!
Back at the start area the feel in the air was now different, definitely tension. All the competitors were quietly retrieving their bikes from impound and pushing them over to the start area under the huge Red Bull Arch. As I waited for my turn to retrieve my bike at 1025 hours, I was wondering if there was anything I had forgotten, and how I had set my bike up for this event. New set of Pirelli MT 18 Heavy Duty tires ( I bought out the local shops supply, 2 fronts and four 120/100’s when Pirelli announced they were not going to make them anymore), and set the heavy duty Bridgestone tubes at 14 psi front and 10 psi rear, 3 clicks out on the slow speed compression adjusters front and rear, and put the width or degree’s of damping on my Scott’s steering stabilizer at it’s minimum and turned the slow speed knob to three turns out or off. I had left my gearing the same as I run in the local desert, 6 speeds are a beautiful thing! I did do a burn in for the EFI on Friday, and other than the normal nut and bolt check that was it. Pretty much the exact same set up that I run at home.
1025 hours finally arrived and I got the okay from the impound Marshal to go and get my bike. My friend Matt helped me tape the route sheet that I had made and put in a zip loc bag to my front fender bag, and I was off to the start. The start was kind of interesting, there was a wooden ramp about three feet high that was under the Red Bull arch, that the club had you and your two minute partners push your bike up after the minute ahead of you had left. First test of the day I guess.
Finally! Minute 94 had left and we were given the queue to push our bikes onto the ramp. I was in the middle of a KTM sandwich here, and the two guys were friendly and they both asked at almost the same time if I had ridden this race before, was it that obvious? I told them no, and they assured me I was going to have a great time as they had ridden this race for years now. The starter gave us the 30 second warning, then 20, I put on my goggles as he gave us the 10 second warning. Crap my heart was pounding just like it is now as I’m writing this, then 5, 4,3,2, 1, go! I hit the start button and the 570 jumped to life almost immediately. The electric starter of the bike on the right of me was grinding away, and the guy on the left was kicking away at his bike. I just sat there not wanting to hold these veterans back on the trail, but, after about 10 seconds their bikes still had not started. I looked over at my friend Matt who was watching from the sidelines, shrugged my shoulders, pulled in the clutch and selected first gear and rode off the ramp first to the cheers of the spectators, and towards the trail.
The first several hundred yards of the trail passed through a creek bottom that was part of dredge mining operations back in the mid 1800’s and was hard pack with medium sized river rocks about size of baseballs and slick as riding on marbles! The trail however quickly started up the mountain and onto true single track that would dominate the remainder of the days riding.
Keeping the revs low in 2cnd and 3rd gear, the velvety smooth power of the 570 had me gliding between the trees and shrubs, as the trail kept on climbing up the side of the mountain. Soon the trail turned and started across the side of the mountain, following the curves of the ridges and canyons. There had been a lot of trail clearing activity in this area, with the remnants of brush and small logs laying across the trail, and you were doing a fair amount of clearing yourself as the branches of the brush and willows were leaning in over the trail at a height that made you have to duck your head and let the branches brush over your helmet and shoulders. In some places it was really kind hard to see the trail until you were right on top of it. This was all 1st and 2cnd gear stuff, with lots of clutch work as you slowed to push through the limbs and over hangs. Rounding an over grown corner, there was the first of many up hills where the trail would wind its way through the under brush turn suddenly side hill, then continue on up the hill. The EFI of the 570 never faltered on the day with these types of obstacles, and required only a twist of the wrist at any RPM to climb the hill. With all of this slow going, and lots of clutch use to finesse the bike through the tight spots the radiator fan came on, and would stay on for the next 3 hours at least.
It didn’t seem like it was too long and we were into what appeared to be a freshly cut trail through the trees and saplings as you could see the recently cut little stumps of the sapling Aspens. This area was really thick with young Aspens, and as you might imagine was 1st gear with lot’s of clutch work as you pushed your way through the branches. This was just epic!!! With me mentioning using the clutch so much, you might be wondering if I hadn’t geared my bike low enough. I think the gearing was just right, even if you were walking through some of these areas on this trail you’d have to pause and you pushed your way through!!!
Pretty soon the trail opened up a bit and we were headed down hill at a pretty good rate through scattered trees and low lying brush. I was cruising along in 3rd and 4th gear using low revs, and shifting down now again to take the load off of the brakes, and then shift back up again once the speed started to drop off. The trail was a flowing series of shallow arching turns, and straights with small braking bumps as you entered these sweeping turns. All you could see of the ground itself was where the trail was, a patch of dirt not more than a foot wide most of the time, and the plants were brushing past your legs like an old time car wash. Occasionally you could see an old tree trunk sticking up out of these plants off to the side of the trail. This definitely made you keep your toes tucked in and riding down the center of trail! Occasionally the trail would cross a road that was used by the public and there was plenty of warning via signs on the trees that these road crossings were approaching. Sometimes you would just cross the road and continue on the single track, and other times there would be a turn arrow that would send you down the old logging road for a while.
On the roads you could get up into 5th gear and sometimes 6th if you were really trying to make some time. However, these roads were a bit treacherous, as there hadn’t been any rain in a while, and they were hard packed with a kind of silt on top. I came charging into a turn on one of these roads, got on the front brake and as I rolled off the throttle I began to back it in to the corner, not something I’m used to doing!!! I used all of the road to get it slowed down to make the corner. On one of the next corners I came into, I picked out a small berm running through the middle of the corner and put the front tire on it and was riding through with no problem until I started to roll on the throttle as I approached the exit. My little berm exploded and the bike shot straight towards the side of the road. Hmmmmmmmm, this is like riding on ice!
Exiting the road and back onto the single track, the trail continued to descend down the mountain, it was a little tighter here, and sometimes as you came over a little ridge there would be a sudden short down hill with a quick right or left through the trees. Having sharp knobs and good brakes were a plus here. You would basically come almost to a stop here as these corners usually turned back on themselves and were very soft. You could see the tracks of those not fortunate enough to make the turn, and their tire ruts went off in various directions to avoid the fallen trees beyond the corner. Not long after the corner there was a pretty burned in trail where most of these riders had re entered the trail. One thing that was nice down here in the “bottom” of the forest, was the ground was moist underneath, and with quite a few folks ahead of me on the trail, there were pretty good berms in the forest loam that were what I would call hero conditions.
Once at the bottom of the mountain, the trail, of course, started back up another mountain. This time it was so steep that there were numerous switchbacks. Once such switchback was the source of a pretty good bottle neck, and there was a guy there with a Mattox feverishly hacking away at the trail as people were struggling to make it up that portion to get to the switchback itself. In between times that he was working on the trail, he was helping push people up the trail, with, the Mattox! There were a couple of people in front of me, and the portion of the trail that lead up to this switchback was probably 50’ in elevation above me. I watched one guy finally make it around the switch back, and noticed a man with a video camera taking pictures right at the switch back. I didn’t watch anyone else struggle up the hill, I would only take a look once in a while to see if the trail was clear. When it was finally clear I made my run at it. I didn’t have any trouble making it up the flat part, and when I got to the switch back the front end came up even though I was slipping the clutch, and I kind of pivoted the bike around the corner on the rear wheel and the front landed pointing towards the trail, and, a decent step up out of the 180 degree turn. The guy with the camera was yelling good job! good job! I tried to just slip the clutch and roll up the step, the front cleared no problem, but the rear just spun. I rolled back and gave it a little gas and up and over the step up. Throughout the day I used the clutch quite a bit, and never once did it fade, get grabby or become otherwise unpredictable. You gotta love hydraulic actuated clutches!!
You’re probably wondering about now when the special tests are going to get mentioned. Well, to tell you the truth I won’t be able to remember exactly where they were on the course, but, I can tell you there were 5 special tests along the length of the course. The only one I can remember riding in detail was the grass track which I will mention later, the rest were, to me, just sections in the trail that were marked off to be that way, and were not different in their make up from the rest of the trail. And there were two specials before the first gas pit. The first taking me 12 & ½ minutes to cover and was before the first actual route check or check two, and the second before Gas Pit “A” taking me just a little over 9 minutes to finish.
Checking the odometer I could see that the first gas stop was approaching, and what an approach it was! The trail was very narrow and dropped down the side of a mountain in switch back fashion, you could see the jeep road below, and the people and vehicles through the trees, but, you didn’t dare take anymore than just one fleeting glance. If you dropped a wheel off here you were going to have drama. It wasn’t that hard, just letting the engine in 1st and 2cnd gear provide most of the braking, except in the switchbacks, but again, the trail was not much wider than your rear tire.
In the pit, the club had laid out the gas cans by the minutes, 10’s, 20’s, 30’s etc so finding your can was pretty easy. I found my can easily and removed the two half liter bottles of water that I had taped to the fill hose and laid them aside, and then filled my gas tank. Removing my camel back to dump in the water, I retrieved one of two energy drinks that I had made up the night before, and then dumped the two bottles of water in my camel back, then drank my energy drink. This energy drink is not any of that Monster crap, it’s real carbohydrate drink made by Twin Lab called Ultra fuel, that I make from a powder that I get at a nutrition store. It’s 400 calories per drink, and is loaded with all the co factors like: vitamin C, thiamin, riboflavin, niacin, vitamin B6, biotin, pantothenic acid, magnesium, potassium, sodium, and chromium. It’s great stuff and it really works.
The exit of Gas Pit A was route check three, and I could see I was running 16 minutes late. The course leaving route check three was more of the same epic Idaho single track. Rowing the gear box up and down as the trail flowed through the tree’s and meadows as we climbed up and over the mountains, hills and dales, braking, clutching, and accelerating smoothly as possible in and out of the corners to conserve as much energy as possible.
I had commented to myself at around mile 33, knowing that the course was 112 miles in length and taking an assessment of how I felt at the time, that I was in fact, screwed. But, after the gas stop, and my energy drink I was feeling a little better. I guess my two months of training at the gym was paying off as I was not short of breath, nor would I be throughout the rest of the day, my muscles were just tired.
Now the trail was coming into more open area’s and we were up on top of the mountains, and the trails here were wide enough in places for quads. The tops of the mountains were covered in green grass, with flowers dotting the landscape. The soil here was a different color as well, more of a pale yellow color, and was pretty hard packed and slippery. As we transitioned onto a jeep road that followed the curve of the mountain one could look out across the mountain range and see green rolling mountains off in distance for many miles, just beautiful.
One more special test, and the 4th route check and I had arrived at the “E” gas. I knew at this point I had gained another 5 minutes to put me at 21 minutes late so far. I quickly found my gas can and topped of the 570 which didn’t take too much as it had only been 25 miles since the “A” pit. I checked my Camel back and decided that I didn’t need to add the water that I had taped to the gas can, as I really wanted to get going and not lose any more time.
As I exited the “E” gas, I could see that I had picked up yet another 2 minutes to put me at 23 minutes behind schedule at mile 61. I could see that I was going to have to try and pick up the pace to make sure I didn’t hour out. I figured that in all but the tighter sections I was running at route pace, or a little faster in the more open area’s, but, just couldn’t keep pace in the really tight stuff.
Using the old adage “slow down to go faster” I concentrated even harder than I had been on being smooth, rolled the throttle on and shifted up leaving the “E” gas, the EFI delivering velvety smooth power. Every time I slowed down for a corner I was trying to get the throttle back open again, even just a little, as soon as I could in an effort to stay on the pace, or make a little time to be used when I wasn’t able to keep the pace in the tighter sections.
It wasn’t too long that I came to what would be the biggest uphill of the event, and I guess you could say it was the toughest. As I approached the bottom there were about 6 guys sitting in the shade with their bikes off looking up the hill at two guys on KTM’s about ¾ of the way up that had drama and not made it over the top. The two guys on the hill who were stuck were in the process of getting their bikes picked up and trying to get down the hill for another run. The “hill” was a single rut about 15-20 inches wide, made up of a silty top layer, and embedded rocks both in the rut and on the sides.
I looked around at these 6 guys who were waiting, but, none seemed very enthusiastic shall we say, to make a run at the hill. I was running late anyway, and after my quick assessment of their lack of urgency to make an attempt, the last guy on the hill got out of the way and I took off up the hill. These are the times when you know you made the right decision buying a big bore bike…………. Riding up this hill in 2cnd gear, it was a little like one of those theme park driving rides with the rail down the middle, you are never going far from the middle of the trail, but, with the embedded rocks in the sides and middle of the trail it was a pretty bumpy ride. A couple of times the front end climbed the side of trail and I had to back off the throttle, but, with all that torque you could just roll it back on again and keep going without even touching the clutch. The rear was digging down through the silt onto a hard base that provided enough traction for momentum, and didn’t just dig in. A few more bobbles and some spastic body English and paddling and I was over the top.
Descending on the back side for some time on some pretty tight single track, I had the front brake howling in protest, and the progressive feel of the front brake was going away and was becoming a bit more grabby than before. The trail was curving around to the right and was barely wide enough for the rear tire, the radius of the turn began to decrease unexpectedly and I must have just touched the front brake as suddenly I was on my face on the narrow trail with the front end off to the left side. I jumped up and began trying to pull the front end back up on the trail, but, it was one of those situations where I couldn’t get a good enough foot hold and every time the front started to come up as I pulled on it my foot would slip and the bike would slide right back to where it was. By now I could here the “waiters” from the bottom of the hill approaching, and try as I might I could not get the front end back up on the trail before they got there. As soon as the lead guy got to me I saw him reach down and turn off his gas and lay his bike over at about a 70 degree angle against the hill, and then take a step off the trail and towards me to give me a hand. He said “need a little help?”, I said yes I do!! He said “no problem” and grabbed hold of the front wheel at 7 and 5 O’clock, and I pulled up again and the front was instantly on the trail. I said “thanks man! you’re a life saver!” He said “no problem” and ambled back to his bike. By now my heart was pounding and I was having a little trouble catching my breath, got my bike picked up, punched the start button and the motor started instantly and I motored on down the trail to a jeep road, as I emerged onto the road I let the rest of the “waiters” by. At the next route check they were waiting for their minute, but, I had lost more time so I just passed through the check and put my head down again.
Another long switch back climb up the side of a mountain had left me feeling pretty spent, and, my butt hurt!! I needed a short break so I pulled over at the top of this hill as the trail crossed an old logging road, and about 50 yards away, on a north facing embankment was a pretty good sized bank of snow that looked pretty darn inviting! I still had one energy drink left in my camel back and I decided it was time to drink it, and take a few of the Ibuprofen I had thrown in at the last minute, I’m sure glad I thought to throw them in! The guys I had gone by at the last route check rolled by one at a time as I had my drink. About 5 minutes passed before I punched the start button on the 570 and I was off again.
There would be one special test, #4, on the way to Gas Pit “B”, and 27.5 miles that I had 105 minutes to complete this section in. This special #4 was the grass track if I am not mistaken and it took me a little over 12 & ½ minutes to complete its 3 mile length. There were quite a few spectators in this area, with several vehicles and families with day shades set up along the sides of the track, and most were really in the spirit of the event and were cheering on all the competitors as they came by. The entire grass track had continuous ribbon on both sides held up by wooden stakes, and mile markers every ½ mile over its 3 mile length. The grass track was laid out in the forest, but the trees were thinner here, and there was plenty of the taller grass that one finds in meadows in the forest. Even though I was on minute 95, the course was in really good shape for that many bikes having ridden over it, and that could be said for the rest of the course as well. The grass track was on the side of a gently sloping hill that wound its way up and down the hill, with great off camber corners still covered in grass and moist forest loam, with a few pretty fast straights. The grass track, with its epic traction and gentle obstacles, beckoned you, faster, faster, with its siren call, and would take your breath away as some of the off camber corners came up quick, dropped away, and turned back up on themselves’. Before I knew it, this special was over with the finish being right next to the start of it.
Coming into Gas Pit “B” I could see that there was a lot of people milling around, so this had to have been the “open” pit that the organizers had mentioned at the riders meeting. As I rode up to where the gas cans were there were a few bikes, and lots of rider support personnel, otherwise known as friends. There were so many people walking around that I had to park my bike 50’ away from the cans. Knowing I was running late, and guessing that I had fallen behind even further, I hurriedly moved towards the gas cans, and there was so many people that I was having to say “excuse me”, “pardon me” until I reached my gas can. I picked it up and turned around to walk back towards my bike, and all of these people had put themselves back between me and my bike, a quick shout of “HOT WATER!!!” had them all getting out of the way like the parting of the sea. As I passed through this veritable crowd of people I made one apology for yelling, and explaining that I was running late and I didn’t want to hour out. As I set my can down next to my bike and kind of frantically un-taped my water bottles from my can 3 very nice ladies came up and asked if I wanted them to fill my camel back, to which I responded yes. They started trying to open my camel back as I bent over to take the lid off my gas can. I quickly unclipped my pack and handed it to them to fill. I got the cap off the gas can, my tank cap off and lifted the full 5 gallon gas can. As I was filling my tank my arms started shaking like crazy and one lady asked me if I was alright, I told her, wow! This can feels really heavy!!!! I finished filling my tank, put my can back, and when I returned one of the ladies handed me my camel back which went on like a favorite coat. I got on the bike, and as I punched the start button these three ladies verbally cleared a path for me to the route check at this pit. As I rode past my new assistants, one of them told me that the next section was not as hard as the beginning and to have a good ride. Pretty cool.
As I pulled up to the route check I could see that I had picked up another 8 minutes, which left me 31 minutes late with 24 miles and 80 minutes to go to the finish. The next route check was 22 miles and 70 minutes away. My friend at the “B” pit was right, the terrain was not as tight as it had been, more roads and quad type trails, but, not a cake walk either. There were many sections where you were transitioning from single track to roads, crossing roads, and riding on fire roads that were silty and slippery. My 570 was purring along smoothly with no weird noises, the only sound being the intake, and the Akro muffler singing its song.
Feeling better now, and wanting to make sure I put some time in the bank I began picking up the pace. My muscles were tired, but I had definitely found my second wind and really put my head down with a determination not to hour our and achieve my goal of finishing on Bronze. In this area I could stand on the pegs, and I really think that helped with me feeling better. I hadn’t been able to stand like I normally do for most of the day because of the branches hanging over the trail.
I was riding more aggressively now than I had been when I was fresh, the front end was sticking wherever I put it, the smooth power had me riding two wheels in line without the rear spinning up and stepping out where I didn’t want it to. There was a guy on the minute ahead of me that was slowly catching up to me, when he got close enough I let him by, something I really didn’t want to do since it was pretty dusty here, but, hey, you need to be a good sport. After he went by I backed off a bit to put some distance between us. After I picked up my pace again I was gaining on him steadily, I saw him make one mistake, I backed off and let him recover and take off. I could see him through the dust, he was making mistakes on the slippery two track and drifting out to the edges, and it wasn’t long before he stalled his bike at a step up trail crossing and I was on him. He pulled over and let me go back past. The only thing I can figure is that he had hit the wall physically and was just out of gas. In a very short period of time I had gapped him considerably, and pretty soon when the road turned where I could see back a ways, his head light was nowhere in sight.
The miles were clicking off quickly now in comparison to the beginning of the event and I could see I was more than half way to the next route check, but, I wasn’t letting up and pushed on as hard as I could with my eye on the prize so to speak.
I came to what would be the last special test of the day. The starter really made sure that I was feeling okay and that I had enough water. As he started his countdown, I told him I was fine and that I was having a great time but that my butt probably looked like one of the baboons at the zoo, you know when they have that big blue thing on their butt? He started cracking up and couldn’t finish his countdown and just waved me through! This last special took me a little over 6 & ½ minutes to complete.
I arrived at what would be the last route check, checked my time, found that I was very early to this check, and this is when the confusion began. I couldn’t have made up that much time……. I asked what check it was and they told me it was check #7, I thought it should have been check #6. There was another rider waiting there to go through and he was trying to help me, and was looking at my route sheet I had made up. He kept commenting that I must have made a mistake in my math, because of what time it was and what minute I was on. This wasn’t helping. I was really tired and was having a really hard time wrapping my head around the fact that I was so early to this check. I mean, every other check point had made sense up to now, the mileage, my time gain, everything………. So, I’m sitting there trying to figure out what was going on, the weight of time on my shoulders. Having hindsight on my side as I write this, here is where I had made a mistake. My math was fine, what was confusing this other rider was the time on my route chart, the time on my clock, and the actual local time on the check clock. I had chosen to just use elapsed time on my stop watch and my #2 odometer, instead of using the actual clock time. I had done this as this is the way I run a normal enduro, so I don’t have to reset my clock to key time, and this was not a problem. The real problem was that I didn’t realize that they count the start check as check #1, and the finish as a check. DOH!
I had the mileages and times right I had the check numbers wrong, and I hadn’t verified the check numbers during the day as I was running late at all but the first one. And this wasn’t a problem until the very end, as at the checks all I had done was look at the mileages and the time on my odo and I was okay. So, I thought I was ten minutes earlier than I was. Wait it gets better.
This last route check #7, was on the main dirt road, North of Idaho City, there was two miles left to go south back to IDC, and impound. I decided to leave, and the check personnel tell you no faster than 15mph as you pull through. As I pull away I look down at my route sheet and it says 2.0 miles, 10 minutes. Okay, so that’s 12mph, no problem. So, I cruise down the road at 15mph back into town and I can see the Red Bull arch on the other side of Highway 21. I stop at the highway and ride across to the pit area, there’s the Red Bull arch with the ramp that I had started on 7 & ½ hours ago, except now there is a bike parked across the ramp, obviously you are not supposed to ride over the ramp. Okay, no problem. I ride over by the arch and there is nothing but people riding to their trucks, and then riding towards impound. I stop, look around and I don’t see anything but competitors working on their bikes etc… So, I just ride over to impound and impound my bike. This would prove fateful to say the least.
The Hammil’s were there at their truck along with David Kamo. Mr. Hammil gave me a bottle of ice cold Gatorade and a chair to sit in. We all had a fine time swapping stories about the course and how we thought we had done. Nick felt like he had a good ride, David said he had finished in the top 5 and was hopeful for a better ride on day two.
I was feeling fine, except for a stiff back. I had decided that I wasn’t going to try and ride the next day as I just felt like I might become a liability to those around me and the club as I didn’t have any support. I just wasn’t properly prepared to ride the two days, and was happy that I had finished on Bronze for the day. In the end, I figured I must have been around 35-40 minutes late.
I walked back to my truck that I had left parked in town on the other side of highway 21 and decided to go over to the community center and turn in my transponder and check the results. I turned in my transponder and got my finisher coaster, and went outside to check the results board. Hey, the guy from the last check was there with his wife and mother in law. We chatted it up a bit as the club stapled up the latest edition of the results. I could see that I had 12 of the 13 checks in and figured they just hadn’t got the last time check in yet. The guy I was chatting with commented to me, “hey, that was really confusing there at the end wasn’t it?” I said yeah, I didn’t know where I was at, and I’m still not sure where I messed up but I’m sure I made it in time. He said, “no, I’m talking about the finish”. The finish, I said? Yeah he says, it took me a while to find it. Then his wife chimes in and says, “yes, my mother and I stood down there for two hours waving people over to the finish because people coming in off the course couldn’t find the finish”. (UH OH I thought to myself) I said, you mean down there by the Red Bull arch? And she said, “yes, they had the finish back out of the way and people were riding around in circles trying to find it”. I asked the guy, you mean there was a check at the finish??? He said yes, didn’t you see it? I said no, I rode over by the arch and people were just milling around and guys were coming in from the course and others were going over to impound. He was like, oh bummer dude, you might be screwed.
Needless to say at this point I had a huge sinking feeling in my stomach. I went back down to the pit area and the Red Bull arch and started looking around. Mind you, people are still finishing on the minutes behind me. I walked over to the arch, and there behind the arch was a pop up day shade still expanded, but, with its legs lowered all the way down, and attached to the canopy was a 1’ X 2’ sign that read FINISH. There were no other signs anywhere else and no other indications. In fact, I never did see the finish or the time clock or anything else. I knew that I had missed the “hidden” finish check and had technically hour’ed out. To say that I was rather distraught was an understatement.
I saw a club member and asked him about this situation and he kind of pulled me aside and said, “dude it was a total cluster, they had the short course riders coming in from this other direction so they moved the finish over here” I thanked him for the info and headed back to the scoring building. When I explained to the man running the scoring, his shoulders just dropped and he had the look of whoa that’s a bummer. I told him that I had been racing since 1982 and had never seen a finish that was not clearly marked.
So that was that. I didn’t want to make a scene, didn’t want to look like a whiner or a sniveler. I just sucked it up and went back to the pits to get my bike. I told the Hammil’s what had happened and they were in disbelief and had said that the finish was out in the open earlier. Oh well, it wasn’t when I got there. They helped me load up my bike and I went back to my trailer for the evening.
I only felt bad for an hour so, then realized I’d had a good ride, didn’t get hurt, had only fell over twice and washed out the front once, and I’d be damned sure not to make that mistake again. (if you go to the Boise Ridge Riders home page and go to the 2008 gallery, you’ll see how the finish should have been) I did write a letter to the President of the BRR’s and told him what happened but, have not heard anything back yet, and really don’t expect to.
Again, I had a great time, met a lot of really great people, and had accomplished my goal of completing the course within my hour. The only thing I don’t have is the Bronze medal that is supposed to go in the middle of the finish coaster. And for what it’s worth, had I not missed the finish check, I would have finished 8th out of 11 finishers, from a starting group of 28.
I went down to the start on Sunday and saw Nick Hammil off on his day. Had breakfast then went back and got most of my stuff loaded up at my hauler. I went back down to the pits in the afternoon and helped the Hammil’s load up their stuff for the trip back to So Cal. Also got the chance to chat with David Kamo and congratulate him on his overall-ing the event.
I headed back to my hauler and the folks who had come in from Sun Valley were getting ready to make their 3 hour drive back home. I said good bye to the couple who had come together and ended up having dinner with the other 4 guys before they headed back home to Sun Valley. Really nice folks.
After these folks had left I struck up a conversation with another group of riders, one of which I recognized from the day before. They all looked pretty hammered as they had rode both days. They asked me how my ride was and I gave them the short version, and when I said that I had felt screwed at mile 33 they all started laughing, and one of them said “dude!!! we all felt the same way, that is some of the hardest stuff this place has to offer”.
I slept quite well on Sunday night, albeit with a good dose of Ibuprofen!!
Well after three times of signing up over the last three years I finally made it to the Idaho City 100 and competed. This is an event that I have wanted to attend since I first heard about it many years ago.
I left my home in Sunland Tuesday morning May 26 and drove to Cedar City Utah to spend the first night, and other than the freeway getting shut down for POTUS in Las Vegas the trip to Cedar City was uneventful. Unlike two years ago when my transmission went south at the State Line area which abbreviated my first attempt at the IDC 100. The next morning I was on the road at 0700 local time and I arrived at the Mountain Pines RV park in Idaho City around 1930 local time, got my RV set up and went down to Trudy’s for a great dinner.
Thursday morning was cool, clear and crisp and found me sitting on the patio at Trudy’s for a great breakfast looking across the street at the empty pit area for the event. After breakfast I walked over to the pits and struck up a conversation with a gentleman setting up a small toy hauler with bikes in the back of his truck to see if I could find out any information on the upcoming event. He was a super nice guy and we chatted about the event and what it was going to be like. I asked him what class he was going to compete in and he went on to tell me, and that he was looking for someone to pilot one of his bikes, and then introduced himself as Lynn Hodges, the owner of Pro Moto Billet. A quick glance at the personalized license plate on his truck confirmed that he was the owner. He went on to explain that he was setting up this trailer for Chili White’s parents, and that he was riding this year’s event in the B5, the same as me.
About this time a very attractive lady walked around the corner and Lynn introduced me to her, Nina White. I asked her if she is the sugar momma in Sugar Momma racing and she responded with a yes and a laugh.
I spent the next few hours’ kind of checking out the pit area and the town. Really cool old mining town with lots of builds dating back to the mid 1800’s. Some pretty interesting folks living there as well. All I met were friendly, and all admitted this is the biggest event of the year in town. I had dinner that night at Trudy’s, and enjoyed a nice conversation with Chili White about the event. I had asked him for any advice he might have, and his main advice was to drink plenty of water since we were going to be out there for about 7 hours, and to be sure and take along some food as well.
Thursday night was cool and actually a little chilly and it didn’t get dark until about 10:00pm.
Friday dawned cool with a few high clouds rolling in, and it wasn’t as crisp as it had been the day before, a portent of things to come. My friend Tim, an old racing and riding partner, who I had not seen since he moved there two years ago and now lives in Emmett ID, came up Friday morning and we had breakfast together at Trudy’s. We have stayed in close contact so there was no catching up to do, but, the IDC 100 was a first for both of us so were just watching rigs roll in to the pit area as we ate breakfast.
After breakfast we wandered over to the pit area to check things out. The previously empty lot was filling up quickly and was a veritable bee hive of activity with people setting up and others riding out to the jetting area on the other side of the river. We walked on over the bridge and were checking out the dirt to see how it compared with our own experiences elsewhere. By this time it was about noon and the Sun was beating down in earnest and I was really wishing that I had brought a hat with me. The temperature was easily 15 to 20 degree’s hotter than it had been the day before. The weather prediction for race day was in the mid nineties, and there was a slight chance of thunderstorms predicted for today. Sadly the Thunderstorms never materialized.
Friday afternoon came, and at 3:30pm sign up and tech opened. Standing in line was quite hot as there was no breeze and no clouds in the sky. I found myself wanting a hat again, a hat that I did not bring. Sign up was a relatively easy affair as I had signed up on line weeks in advance. You had to bring your helmet with you, and they attached a transponder that was the same dimensions of a credit card on the bottom side of your visor. Once I was in line, and seeing everyone with their helmets in their hands made me realize that I of course had forgotten my helmet. My friend Tim who had ridden his Harely down to sign up went back to my hauler and retrieved my helmet before leaving for home. I would see him in a couple of days as I had planned to stay a few days after the event at his house in Emmett, about 40 minutes away.
Everyone in line was really chatting it up and exchanging stories about past races, where each other was from, and just general dirt bike talk. Lot’s of really friendly people anticipating a great ride through the forest. The same was true at Tech inspection which was across the road from sign up and next to the impound area. Seemed like most people, as well as myself, were anxious to get their bike in the impound area and be done with it.
I took my bike down to tech/impound and put on my numbers, 95C, for Saturday. This was also a painless affair and the sound check line moved quickly. My 570 blew an 89db at 3825 rpm. I parked my bike in impound, where I am told they had an enthusiastic group of guards that would be there overnight to keep vigil on all the bikes. The gas trailers supplied by the club would not be in place until Saturday morning to take all the competitors gas cans to the pits, two of which were closed, and one that was open.
My friend Tim’s son Matt showed up around 6:00pm in the pits while I was talking with Nick Hammil, and David Kamo. Nick is a kid from my neighborhood, D-37, and David Kamo rides with my friend Tim’s youngest son Kevin. Matt and I checked out the rest of the pits and then hung out for the evening catching up on things, as I hadn’t seen him for about 3 & ½ years, since he moved up there for work. Friday evening came and it was much, much warmer than it had been on the previous two evenings.
Saturday morning dawned warm and humid. I went down to the community center at 7:00 am to get my route times. The club had promised to have them up “as close to 7 as possible”. When I got there at 7 there was nothing, waited around until 7:30 and still nothing. By now there was a decent sized crowd there looking for the same thing as me. The route sheets were also supposed also supposed to be posted on the “propane tank” down at Tom’s service near the start as well. Since there was a mandatory riders meeting at 8:00 am I headed down to the “tank”. When I got there it seemed like everyone was there trying to get their route times. I had my pad and pen and managed to get up front and write down the times and mileages.
I knew that Velospaiens and Lizzard Killer were going to be at this event, but, since there was no cell service here I didn’t have the slightest idea of how to find them. However, while waiting for the riders meeting to start, on a hunch after over hearing someone’s conversation, I asked if they knew them and they pointed me in the right direction. It was great to finally meet Velo and Lizzard killer after reading their posts for the last several years. They were very nice indeed and we wished each other a successful day on the trail and went our separate ways.
Route Checks:
Check #1 (start) to Check #2 45 minutes 11.5 miles.
Check #2 to Check #3. 89 minutes 24.0 miles. Gas Pit “A”
Check #3 to Check #4. 54 minutes 15.5 miles.
Check #4 to Check #5. 40 minutes 10.0 miles. Gas Pit “Emergency”
Check #5 to Check #6. 105 minutes 27.5 miles. Gas Pit “B”.
Check #6 to Check #7. 70 minutes 22.0 miles.
Check #7 to Finish. 10 minutes 2.0 miles.
or check #8.
Finish (#8) to Impound. 15 minutes.
Pit Distances:
Start to Pit “A” 35.0 miles.
Pit “A” to Emergency Gas 25.0 miles.
“E” to Pit “B” 25.0 miles.
Pit “B” to Finish 27.5 miles.
With 50 miles between the A pit and the B pit, I would be stopping at the E gas for prudence sake. I’m pretty sure that I could make the 50 miles but it would be close. And most other riders must have felt the same way as the E gas trailer was just as full as the A and B gas trailers, albeit with mostly smaller cans. Funny really, just a week before the event I got an email from the Boise Ridge Riders saying there would be 4 gas stops, 2 mains and 2 emergency, and the distances wouldn’t be more than 40 miles. Since the race was so long, and weather was predicted to be in the mid 90’s, I taped two .5 liter bottles of water onto my gas cans to dump into my Camel back. The Boise Ridge Riders would have water available at all the gas pits and route checks. And throughout the day all of the check workers asked me how I was doing and whether or not I needed any water.
The riders meeting didn’t get going until about 0830, and the President of the club gave a great speech on course markings, safety, and to be sure and drink plenty of water. The meeting lasted all of about 10 minutes or so. I dropped off my gas cans at the three gas trailers, A gas, E or emergency gas, and the final gas pit, the B gas.
I headed back to my hauler to have some breakfast and get dressed as my minute, 95, was still almost 2 hours away. When I got back to my hauler I made out a small route sheet to tape to my front fender bag, and made up a pair of goggles with roll offs on them, and painted some baby oil on the filter foam of the goggles to keep the dust out. Everything else went smoothly before heading back down to the start area. Now I was starting to get some butterflies!!! Finally after 10 years of thinking about it, and the third try in three years I was finally going to start the IDC 100!!
Back at the start area the feel in the air was now different, definitely tension. All the competitors were quietly retrieving their bikes from impound and pushing them over to the start area under the huge Red Bull Arch. As I waited for my turn to retrieve my bike at 1025 hours, I was wondering if there was anything I had forgotten, and how I had set my bike up for this event. New set of Pirelli MT 18 Heavy Duty tires ( I bought out the local shops supply, 2 fronts and four 120/100’s when Pirelli announced they were not going to make them anymore), and set the heavy duty Bridgestone tubes at 14 psi front and 10 psi rear, 3 clicks out on the slow speed compression adjusters front and rear, and put the width or degree’s of damping on my Scott’s steering stabilizer at it’s minimum and turned the slow speed knob to three turns out or off. I had left my gearing the same as I run in the local desert, 6 speeds are a beautiful thing! I did do a burn in for the EFI on Friday, and other than the normal nut and bolt check that was it. Pretty much the exact same set up that I run at home.
1025 hours finally arrived and I got the okay from the impound Marshal to go and get my bike. My friend Matt helped me tape the route sheet that I had made and put in a zip loc bag to my front fender bag, and I was off to the start. The start was kind of interesting, there was a wooden ramp about three feet high that was under the Red Bull arch, that the club had you and your two minute partners push your bike up after the minute ahead of you had left. First test of the day I guess.
Finally! Minute 94 had left and we were given the queue to push our bikes onto the ramp. I was in the middle of a KTM sandwich here, and the two guys were friendly and they both asked at almost the same time if I had ridden this race before, was it that obvious? I told them no, and they assured me I was going to have a great time as they had ridden this race for years now. The starter gave us the 30 second warning, then 20, I put on my goggles as he gave us the 10 second warning. Crap my heart was pounding just like it is now as I’m writing this, then 5, 4,3,2, 1, go! I hit the start button and the 570 jumped to life almost immediately. The electric starter of the bike on the right of me was grinding away, and the guy on the left was kicking away at his bike. I just sat there not wanting to hold these veterans back on the trail, but, after about 10 seconds their bikes still had not started. I looked over at my friend Matt who was watching from the sidelines, shrugged my shoulders, pulled in the clutch and selected first gear and rode off the ramp first to the cheers of the spectators, and towards the trail.
The first several hundred yards of the trail passed through a creek bottom that was part of dredge mining operations back in the mid 1800’s and was hard pack with medium sized river rocks about size of baseballs and slick as riding on marbles! The trail however quickly started up the mountain and onto true single track that would dominate the remainder of the days riding.
Keeping the revs low in 2cnd and 3rd gear, the velvety smooth power of the 570 had me gliding between the trees and shrubs, as the trail kept on climbing up the side of the mountain. Soon the trail turned and started across the side of the mountain, following the curves of the ridges and canyons. There had been a lot of trail clearing activity in this area, with the remnants of brush and small logs laying across the trail, and you were doing a fair amount of clearing yourself as the branches of the brush and willows were leaning in over the trail at a height that made you have to duck your head and let the branches brush over your helmet and shoulders. In some places it was really kind hard to see the trail until you were right on top of it. This was all 1st and 2cnd gear stuff, with lots of clutch work as you slowed to push through the limbs and over hangs. Rounding an over grown corner, there was the first of many up hills where the trail would wind its way through the under brush turn suddenly side hill, then continue on up the hill. The EFI of the 570 never faltered on the day with these types of obstacles, and required only a twist of the wrist at any RPM to climb the hill. With all of this slow going, and lots of clutch use to finesse the bike through the tight spots the radiator fan came on, and would stay on for the next 3 hours at least.
It didn’t seem like it was too long and we were into what appeared to be a freshly cut trail through the trees and saplings as you could see the recently cut little stumps of the sapling Aspens. This area was really thick with young Aspens, and as you might imagine was 1st gear with lot’s of clutch work as you pushed your way through the branches. This was just epic!!! With me mentioning using the clutch so much, you might be wondering if I hadn’t geared my bike low enough. I think the gearing was just right, even if you were walking through some of these areas on this trail you’d have to pause and you pushed your way through!!!
Pretty soon the trail opened up a bit and we were headed down hill at a pretty good rate through scattered trees and low lying brush. I was cruising along in 3rd and 4th gear using low revs, and shifting down now again to take the load off of the brakes, and then shift back up again once the speed started to drop off. The trail was a flowing series of shallow arching turns, and straights with small braking bumps as you entered these sweeping turns. All you could see of the ground itself was where the trail was, a patch of dirt not more than a foot wide most of the time, and the plants were brushing past your legs like an old time car wash. Occasionally you could see an old tree trunk sticking up out of these plants off to the side of the trail. This definitely made you keep your toes tucked in and riding down the center of trail! Occasionally the trail would cross a road that was used by the public and there was plenty of warning via signs on the trees that these road crossings were approaching. Sometimes you would just cross the road and continue on the single track, and other times there would be a turn arrow that would send you down the old logging road for a while.
On the roads you could get up into 5th gear and sometimes 6th if you were really trying to make some time. However, these roads were a bit treacherous, as there hadn’t been any rain in a while, and they were hard packed with a kind of silt on top. I came charging into a turn on one of these roads, got on the front brake and as I rolled off the throttle I began to back it in to the corner, not something I’m used to doing!!! I used all of the road to get it slowed down to make the corner. On one of the next corners I came into, I picked out a small berm running through the middle of the corner and put the front tire on it and was riding through with no problem until I started to roll on the throttle as I approached the exit. My little berm exploded and the bike shot straight towards the side of the road. Hmmmmmmmm, this is like riding on ice!
Exiting the road and back onto the single track, the trail continued to descend down the mountain, it was a little tighter here, and sometimes as you came over a little ridge there would be a sudden short down hill with a quick right or left through the trees. Having sharp knobs and good brakes were a plus here. You would basically come almost to a stop here as these corners usually turned back on themselves and were very soft. You could see the tracks of those not fortunate enough to make the turn, and their tire ruts went off in various directions to avoid the fallen trees beyond the corner. Not long after the corner there was a pretty burned in trail where most of these riders had re entered the trail. One thing that was nice down here in the “bottom” of the forest, was the ground was moist underneath, and with quite a few folks ahead of me on the trail, there were pretty good berms in the forest loam that were what I would call hero conditions.
Once at the bottom of the mountain, the trail, of course, started back up another mountain. This time it was so steep that there were numerous switchbacks. Once such switchback was the source of a pretty good bottle neck, and there was a guy there with a Mattox feverishly hacking away at the trail as people were struggling to make it up that portion to get to the switchback itself. In between times that he was working on the trail, he was helping push people up the trail, with, the Mattox! There were a couple of people in front of me, and the portion of the trail that lead up to this switchback was probably 50’ in elevation above me. I watched one guy finally make it around the switch back, and noticed a man with a video camera taking pictures right at the switch back. I didn’t watch anyone else struggle up the hill, I would only take a look once in a while to see if the trail was clear. When it was finally clear I made my run at it. I didn’t have any trouble making it up the flat part, and when I got to the switch back the front end came up even though I was slipping the clutch, and I kind of pivoted the bike around the corner on the rear wheel and the front landed pointing towards the trail, and, a decent step up out of the 180 degree turn. The guy with the camera was yelling good job! good job! I tried to just slip the clutch and roll up the step, the front cleared no problem, but the rear just spun. I rolled back and gave it a little gas and up and over the step up. Throughout the day I used the clutch quite a bit, and never once did it fade, get grabby or become otherwise unpredictable. You gotta love hydraulic actuated clutches!!
You’re probably wondering about now when the special tests are going to get mentioned. Well, to tell you the truth I won’t be able to remember exactly where they were on the course, but, I can tell you there were 5 special tests along the length of the course. The only one I can remember riding in detail was the grass track which I will mention later, the rest were, to me, just sections in the trail that were marked off to be that way, and were not different in their make up from the rest of the trail. And there were two specials before the first gas pit. The first taking me 12 & ½ minutes to cover and was before the first actual route check or check two, and the second before Gas Pit “A” taking me just a little over 9 minutes to finish.
Checking the odometer I could see that the first gas stop was approaching, and what an approach it was! The trail was very narrow and dropped down the side of a mountain in switch back fashion, you could see the jeep road below, and the people and vehicles through the trees, but, you didn’t dare take anymore than just one fleeting glance. If you dropped a wheel off here you were going to have drama. It wasn’t that hard, just letting the engine in 1st and 2cnd gear provide most of the braking, except in the switchbacks, but again, the trail was not much wider than your rear tire.
In the pit, the club had laid out the gas cans by the minutes, 10’s, 20’s, 30’s etc so finding your can was pretty easy. I found my can easily and removed the two half liter bottles of water that I had taped to the fill hose and laid them aside, and then filled my gas tank. Removing my camel back to dump in the water, I retrieved one of two energy drinks that I had made up the night before, and then dumped the two bottles of water in my camel back, then drank my energy drink. This energy drink is not any of that Monster crap, it’s real carbohydrate drink made by Twin Lab called Ultra fuel, that I make from a powder that I get at a nutrition store. It’s 400 calories per drink, and is loaded with all the co factors like: vitamin C, thiamin, riboflavin, niacin, vitamin B6, biotin, pantothenic acid, magnesium, potassium, sodium, and chromium. It’s great stuff and it really works.
The exit of Gas Pit A was route check three, and I could see I was running 16 minutes late. The course leaving route check three was more of the same epic Idaho single track. Rowing the gear box up and down as the trail flowed through the tree’s and meadows as we climbed up and over the mountains, hills and dales, braking, clutching, and accelerating smoothly as possible in and out of the corners to conserve as much energy as possible.
I had commented to myself at around mile 33, knowing that the course was 112 miles in length and taking an assessment of how I felt at the time, that I was in fact, screwed. But, after the gas stop, and my energy drink I was feeling a little better. I guess my two months of training at the gym was paying off as I was not short of breath, nor would I be throughout the rest of the day, my muscles were just tired.
Now the trail was coming into more open area’s and we were up on top of the mountains, and the trails here were wide enough in places for quads. The tops of the mountains were covered in green grass, with flowers dotting the landscape. The soil here was a different color as well, more of a pale yellow color, and was pretty hard packed and slippery. As we transitioned onto a jeep road that followed the curve of the mountain one could look out across the mountain range and see green rolling mountains off in distance for many miles, just beautiful.
One more special test, and the 4th route check and I had arrived at the “E” gas. I knew at this point I had gained another 5 minutes to put me at 21 minutes late so far. I quickly found my gas can and topped of the 570 which didn’t take too much as it had only been 25 miles since the “A” pit. I checked my Camel back and decided that I didn’t need to add the water that I had taped to the gas can, as I really wanted to get going and not lose any more time.
As I exited the “E” gas, I could see that I had picked up yet another 2 minutes to put me at 23 minutes behind schedule at mile 61. I could see that I was going to have to try and pick up the pace to make sure I didn’t hour out. I figured that in all but the tighter sections I was running at route pace, or a little faster in the more open area’s, but, just couldn’t keep pace in the really tight stuff.
Using the old adage “slow down to go faster” I concentrated even harder than I had been on being smooth, rolled the throttle on and shifted up leaving the “E” gas, the EFI delivering velvety smooth power. Every time I slowed down for a corner I was trying to get the throttle back open again, even just a little, as soon as I could in an effort to stay on the pace, or make a little time to be used when I wasn’t able to keep the pace in the tighter sections.
It wasn’t too long that I came to what would be the biggest uphill of the event, and I guess you could say it was the toughest. As I approached the bottom there were about 6 guys sitting in the shade with their bikes off looking up the hill at two guys on KTM’s about ¾ of the way up that had drama and not made it over the top. The two guys on the hill who were stuck were in the process of getting their bikes picked up and trying to get down the hill for another run. The “hill” was a single rut about 15-20 inches wide, made up of a silty top layer, and embedded rocks both in the rut and on the sides.
I looked around at these 6 guys who were waiting, but, none seemed very enthusiastic shall we say, to make a run at the hill. I was running late anyway, and after my quick assessment of their lack of urgency to make an attempt, the last guy on the hill got out of the way and I took off up the hill. These are the times when you know you made the right decision buying a big bore bike…………. Riding up this hill in 2cnd gear, it was a little like one of those theme park driving rides with the rail down the middle, you are never going far from the middle of the trail, but, with the embedded rocks in the sides and middle of the trail it was a pretty bumpy ride. A couple of times the front end climbed the side of trail and I had to back off the throttle, but, with all that torque you could just roll it back on again and keep going without even touching the clutch. The rear was digging down through the silt onto a hard base that provided enough traction for momentum, and didn’t just dig in. A few more bobbles and some spastic body English and paddling and I was over the top.
Descending on the back side for some time on some pretty tight single track, I had the front brake howling in protest, and the progressive feel of the front brake was going away and was becoming a bit more grabby than before. The trail was curving around to the right and was barely wide enough for the rear tire, the radius of the turn began to decrease unexpectedly and I must have just touched the front brake as suddenly I was on my face on the narrow trail with the front end off to the left side. I jumped up and began trying to pull the front end back up on the trail, but, it was one of those situations where I couldn’t get a good enough foot hold and every time the front started to come up as I pulled on it my foot would slip and the bike would slide right back to where it was. By now I could here the “waiters” from the bottom of the hill approaching, and try as I might I could not get the front end back up on the trail before they got there. As soon as the lead guy got to me I saw him reach down and turn off his gas and lay his bike over at about a 70 degree angle against the hill, and then take a step off the trail and towards me to give me a hand. He said “need a little help?”, I said yes I do!! He said “no problem” and grabbed hold of the front wheel at 7 and 5 O’clock, and I pulled up again and the front was instantly on the trail. I said “thanks man! you’re a life saver!” He said “no problem” and ambled back to his bike. By now my heart was pounding and I was having a little trouble catching my breath, got my bike picked up, punched the start button and the motor started instantly and I motored on down the trail to a jeep road, as I emerged onto the road I let the rest of the “waiters” by. At the next route check they were waiting for their minute, but, I had lost more time so I just passed through the check and put my head down again.
Another long switch back climb up the side of a mountain had left me feeling pretty spent, and, my butt hurt!! I needed a short break so I pulled over at the top of this hill as the trail crossed an old logging road, and about 50 yards away, on a north facing embankment was a pretty good sized bank of snow that looked pretty darn inviting! I still had one energy drink left in my camel back and I decided it was time to drink it, and take a few of the Ibuprofen I had thrown in at the last minute, I’m sure glad I thought to throw them in! The guys I had gone by at the last route check rolled by one at a time as I had my drink. About 5 minutes passed before I punched the start button on the 570 and I was off again.
There would be one special test, #4, on the way to Gas Pit “B”, and 27.5 miles that I had 105 minutes to complete this section in. This special #4 was the grass track if I am not mistaken and it took me a little over 12 & ½ minutes to complete its 3 mile length. There were quite a few spectators in this area, with several vehicles and families with day shades set up along the sides of the track, and most were really in the spirit of the event and were cheering on all the competitors as they came by. The entire grass track had continuous ribbon on both sides held up by wooden stakes, and mile markers every ½ mile over its 3 mile length. The grass track was laid out in the forest, but the trees were thinner here, and there was plenty of the taller grass that one finds in meadows in the forest. Even though I was on minute 95, the course was in really good shape for that many bikes having ridden over it, and that could be said for the rest of the course as well. The grass track was on the side of a gently sloping hill that wound its way up and down the hill, with great off camber corners still covered in grass and moist forest loam, with a few pretty fast straights. The grass track, with its epic traction and gentle obstacles, beckoned you, faster, faster, with its siren call, and would take your breath away as some of the off camber corners came up quick, dropped away, and turned back up on themselves’. Before I knew it, this special was over with the finish being right next to the start of it.
Coming into Gas Pit “B” I could see that there was a lot of people milling around, so this had to have been the “open” pit that the organizers had mentioned at the riders meeting. As I rode up to where the gas cans were there were a few bikes, and lots of rider support personnel, otherwise known as friends. There were so many people walking around that I had to park my bike 50’ away from the cans. Knowing I was running late, and guessing that I had fallen behind even further, I hurriedly moved towards the gas cans, and there was so many people that I was having to say “excuse me”, “pardon me” until I reached my gas can. I picked it up and turned around to walk back towards my bike, and all of these people had put themselves back between me and my bike, a quick shout of “HOT WATER!!!” had them all getting out of the way like the parting of the sea. As I passed through this veritable crowd of people I made one apology for yelling, and explaining that I was running late and I didn’t want to hour out. As I set my can down next to my bike and kind of frantically un-taped my water bottles from my can 3 very nice ladies came up and asked if I wanted them to fill my camel back, to which I responded yes. They started trying to open my camel back as I bent over to take the lid off my gas can. I quickly unclipped my pack and handed it to them to fill. I got the cap off the gas can, my tank cap off and lifted the full 5 gallon gas can. As I was filling my tank my arms started shaking like crazy and one lady asked me if I was alright, I told her, wow! This can feels really heavy!!!! I finished filling my tank, put my can back, and when I returned one of the ladies handed me my camel back which went on like a favorite coat. I got on the bike, and as I punched the start button these three ladies verbally cleared a path for me to the route check at this pit. As I rode past my new assistants, one of them told me that the next section was not as hard as the beginning and to have a good ride. Pretty cool.
As I pulled up to the route check I could see that I had picked up another 8 minutes, which left me 31 minutes late with 24 miles and 80 minutes to go to the finish. The next route check was 22 miles and 70 minutes away. My friend at the “B” pit was right, the terrain was not as tight as it had been, more roads and quad type trails, but, not a cake walk either. There were many sections where you were transitioning from single track to roads, crossing roads, and riding on fire roads that were silty and slippery. My 570 was purring along smoothly with no weird noises, the only sound being the intake, and the Akro muffler singing its song.
Feeling better now, and wanting to make sure I put some time in the bank I began picking up the pace. My muscles were tired, but I had definitely found my second wind and really put my head down with a determination not to hour our and achieve my goal of finishing on Bronze. In this area I could stand on the pegs, and I really think that helped with me feeling better. I hadn’t been able to stand like I normally do for most of the day because of the branches hanging over the trail.
I was riding more aggressively now than I had been when I was fresh, the front end was sticking wherever I put it, the smooth power had me riding two wheels in line without the rear spinning up and stepping out where I didn’t want it to. There was a guy on the minute ahead of me that was slowly catching up to me, when he got close enough I let him by, something I really didn’t want to do since it was pretty dusty here, but, hey, you need to be a good sport. After he went by I backed off a bit to put some distance between us. After I picked up my pace again I was gaining on him steadily, I saw him make one mistake, I backed off and let him recover and take off. I could see him through the dust, he was making mistakes on the slippery two track and drifting out to the edges, and it wasn’t long before he stalled his bike at a step up trail crossing and I was on him. He pulled over and let me go back past. The only thing I can figure is that he had hit the wall physically and was just out of gas. In a very short period of time I had gapped him considerably, and pretty soon when the road turned where I could see back a ways, his head light was nowhere in sight.
The miles were clicking off quickly now in comparison to the beginning of the event and I could see I was more than half way to the next route check, but, I wasn’t letting up and pushed on as hard as I could with my eye on the prize so to speak.
I came to what would be the last special test of the day. The starter really made sure that I was feeling okay and that I had enough water. As he started his countdown, I told him I was fine and that I was having a great time but that my butt probably looked like one of the baboons at the zoo, you know when they have that big blue thing on their butt? He started cracking up and couldn’t finish his countdown and just waved me through! This last special took me a little over 6 & ½ minutes to complete.
I arrived at what would be the last route check, checked my time, found that I was very early to this check, and this is when the confusion began. I couldn’t have made up that much time……. I asked what check it was and they told me it was check #7, I thought it should have been check #6. There was another rider waiting there to go through and he was trying to help me, and was looking at my route sheet I had made up. He kept commenting that I must have made a mistake in my math, because of what time it was and what minute I was on. This wasn’t helping. I was really tired and was having a really hard time wrapping my head around the fact that I was so early to this check. I mean, every other check point had made sense up to now, the mileage, my time gain, everything………. So, I’m sitting there trying to figure out what was going on, the weight of time on my shoulders. Having hindsight on my side as I write this, here is where I had made a mistake. My math was fine, what was confusing this other rider was the time on my route chart, the time on my clock, and the actual local time on the check clock. I had chosen to just use elapsed time on my stop watch and my #2 odometer, instead of using the actual clock time. I had done this as this is the way I run a normal enduro, so I don’t have to reset my clock to key time, and this was not a problem. The real problem was that I didn’t realize that they count the start check as check #1, and the finish as a check. DOH!
I had the mileages and times right I had the check numbers wrong, and I hadn’t verified the check numbers during the day as I was running late at all but the first one. And this wasn’t a problem until the very end, as at the checks all I had done was look at the mileages and the time on my odo and I was okay. So, I thought I was ten minutes earlier than I was. Wait it gets better.
This last route check #7, was on the main dirt road, North of Idaho City, there was two miles left to go south back to IDC, and impound. I decided to leave, and the check personnel tell you no faster than 15mph as you pull through. As I pull away I look down at my route sheet and it says 2.0 miles, 10 minutes. Okay, so that’s 12mph, no problem. So, I cruise down the road at 15mph back into town and I can see the Red Bull arch on the other side of Highway 21. I stop at the highway and ride across to the pit area, there’s the Red Bull arch with the ramp that I had started on 7 & ½ hours ago, except now there is a bike parked across the ramp, obviously you are not supposed to ride over the ramp. Okay, no problem. I ride over by the arch and there is nothing but people riding to their trucks, and then riding towards impound. I stop, look around and I don’t see anything but competitors working on their bikes etc… So, I just ride over to impound and impound my bike. This would prove fateful to say the least.
The Hammil’s were there at their truck along with David Kamo. Mr. Hammil gave me a bottle of ice cold Gatorade and a chair to sit in. We all had a fine time swapping stories about the course and how we thought we had done. Nick felt like he had a good ride, David said he had finished in the top 5 and was hopeful for a better ride on day two.
I was feeling fine, except for a stiff back. I had decided that I wasn’t going to try and ride the next day as I just felt like I might become a liability to those around me and the club as I didn’t have any support. I just wasn’t properly prepared to ride the two days, and was happy that I had finished on Bronze for the day. In the end, I figured I must have been around 35-40 minutes late.
I walked back to my truck that I had left parked in town on the other side of highway 21 and decided to go over to the community center and turn in my transponder and check the results. I turned in my transponder and got my finisher coaster, and went outside to check the results board. Hey, the guy from the last check was there with his wife and mother in law. We chatted it up a bit as the club stapled up the latest edition of the results. I could see that I had 12 of the 13 checks in and figured they just hadn’t got the last time check in yet. The guy I was chatting with commented to me, “hey, that was really confusing there at the end wasn’t it?” I said yeah, I didn’t know where I was at, and I’m still not sure where I messed up but I’m sure I made it in time. He said, “no, I’m talking about the finish”. The finish, I said? Yeah he says, it took me a while to find it. Then his wife chimes in and says, “yes, my mother and I stood down there for two hours waving people over to the finish because people coming in off the course couldn’t find the finish”. (UH OH I thought to myself) I said, you mean down there by the Red Bull arch? And she said, “yes, they had the finish back out of the way and people were riding around in circles trying to find it”. I asked the guy, you mean there was a check at the finish??? He said yes, didn’t you see it? I said no, I rode over by the arch and people were just milling around and guys were coming in from the course and others were going over to impound. He was like, oh bummer dude, you might be screwed.
Needless to say at this point I had a huge sinking feeling in my stomach. I went back down to the pit area and the Red Bull arch and started looking around. Mind you, people are still finishing on the minutes behind me. I walked over to the arch, and there behind the arch was a pop up day shade still expanded, but, with its legs lowered all the way down, and attached to the canopy was a 1’ X 2’ sign that read FINISH. There were no other signs anywhere else and no other indications. In fact, I never did see the finish or the time clock or anything else. I knew that I had missed the “hidden” finish check and had technically hour’ed out. To say that I was rather distraught was an understatement.
I saw a club member and asked him about this situation and he kind of pulled me aside and said, “dude it was a total cluster, they had the short course riders coming in from this other direction so they moved the finish over here” I thanked him for the info and headed back to the scoring building. When I explained to the man running the scoring, his shoulders just dropped and he had the look of whoa that’s a bummer. I told him that I had been racing since 1982 and had never seen a finish that was not clearly marked.
So that was that. I didn’t want to make a scene, didn’t want to look like a whiner or a sniveler. I just sucked it up and went back to the pits to get my bike. I told the Hammil’s what had happened and they were in disbelief and had said that the finish was out in the open earlier. Oh well, it wasn’t when I got there. They helped me load up my bike and I went back to my trailer for the evening.
I only felt bad for an hour so, then realized I’d had a good ride, didn’t get hurt, had only fell over twice and washed out the front once, and I’d be damned sure not to make that mistake again. (if you go to the Boise Ridge Riders home page and go to the 2008 gallery, you’ll see how the finish should have been) I did write a letter to the President of the BRR’s and told him what happened but, have not heard anything back yet, and really don’t expect to.
Again, I had a great time, met a lot of really great people, and had accomplished my goal of completing the course within my hour. The only thing I don’t have is the Bronze medal that is supposed to go in the middle of the finish coaster. And for what it’s worth, had I not missed the finish check, I would have finished 8th out of 11 finishers, from a starting group of 28.
I went down to the start on Sunday and saw Nick Hammil off on his day. Had breakfast then went back and got most of my stuff loaded up at my hauler. I went back down to the pits in the afternoon and helped the Hammil’s load up their stuff for the trip back to So Cal. Also got the chance to chat with David Kamo and congratulate him on his overall-ing the event.
I headed back to my hauler and the folks who had come in from Sun Valley were getting ready to make their 3 hour drive back home. I said good bye to the couple who had come together and ended up having dinner with the other 4 guys before they headed back home to Sun Valley. Really nice folks.
After these folks had left I struck up a conversation with another group of riders, one of which I recognized from the day before. They all looked pretty hammered as they had rode both days. They asked me how my ride was and I gave them the short version, and when I said that I had felt screwed at mile 33 they all started laughing, and one of them said “dude!!! we all felt the same way, that is some of the hardest stuff this place has to offer”.
I slept quite well on Sunday night, albeit with a good dose of Ibuprofen!!
