I raced in my first race this past Sunday, which was the first race of the season in the North Carolina Hare Scramble Association series. I'm 41 years old and have never entered any kind of a race before. I am not that fast or aggressive of a rider, but at least once in my life I wanted to participate in an off-road race like an enduro or hare scramble. A couple of my riding buddies have raced a few hare scrambles and when they mentioned going up together, I thought it would be a great opportunity to do it.

Being my first race, I really had no idea what to expect, from sign-up to finish. So it was good to have a couple of friends who had been through it. I thought things might get a little crazy in the heat of the race, so to keep my head on straight, I set out a few goals for myself, in priority order:

1) No serious injuries - wanted to get home under my own power.

2) No major bike damage - don't want any large repair bills.

3) Have fun and take it all in - it's my first race, I wanted to enjoy the atmosphere, the sights, the sounds, the camaraderie with other racers.

4) Finish. I hear these races are pretty tough, a worthy goal is to just finish.

5) Don't finish last, if possible.

So in the week before the race, I'm starting to get a little anxious. I get butterflies when I think about the race. I don't have much time to practice on the bike and this makes me edgy. I keep telling myself that on my list of priorities, my finish position is not that important, so don't worry too much about that. I only had one day of riding in the week before the event. We practiced a few starts and some fast laps around a field, then some tight single track. I did alright on the starts and fast laps, but on the single track, I'm all over the place, not riding well at all. It feels like my front end is pushing. I'm tense. I think my sag adjustment is off. This is the Sunday before the race. One week to go.

Monday I try to set my suspension's rear sag. I cannot get it dialed in, and it is off pretty far. I need a stiffer rear spring. I do a little research and figure out what spring rate I need and place an order. "It'll be there Wed or Thu." Cool, that'll give me plenty of time to get it on the bike and make a few test runs.

Friday - the spring is still not here. And it doesn't look like it's going to make it before the race, so I set my static sag with as much preload as is recommended but not exceeding, and let the rider sag fall where it may. I don't get a chance for a test ride. It'll have to do.

Sunday, race day, we load up and head out to the track, 3 hours away. When we arrive, we unload the bikes, and go stand in line for sign up. That takes almost an hour. I'm pretty anxious as I pay the signup fees and get my number and punch card. No turning back now. I'm officially nervous now walking back to the truck to gear up. My buddy Jerry says to not let it bother you, if you do it will affect you out on the course and you won't ride well. Easier said than done.

We walk back to the truck, put on our gear, and realize we don't have any duct tape to hold the punch card to the handlebars, so we borrow some tape from another guy in the pit area. He's originally from Ohio and this is his first race too. We check our tire pressure, fill our camel baks, and ride up to the starting area. By the time we get up there, most of the other riders are already lined up. There are really a lot of people here. I wonder how so many riders are going to manage on the course all at the same time. I find the row for my class and find a place to settle in, then wait.

It's very noisy at the starting line. Folks are warming up their bikes, revving the engines, talking loudly over the exhaust, and it seems like general mayhem. Kids are running around along the side of the starting area. Some folks have a buddy with them to hold up their bike for them while they stretch and prepare. There is a sign at the end of each starting row with the class that belongs in that row. There seems to be some confusion as to which line is which because the rows stretch from the woods on one side to the orange fencing on other a considerable distance away and the lines that have formed are not very straight. I'm starting toward the back, but there are still several rows behind me. The exhaust in the air is thick. It is noisy and hard to breathe. I start and stop my bike a few times and give a few revs. I put it in second gear because that's what I'll start in.

Then the announcer gets on a megaphone, signals to cut the engines and listen up, and gives a riders meeting. He talks about the trail condition, what to expect, watch out for the ledge at the end of the straight-away near the trailer because just beyond it is a mud swamp. I can't help but think, what have I gotten myself into? Is it too late to back out now? I can only hear bits and pieces due to the noise, but it sounds like the course is not too muddy, even though it rained the day before. And finally he ends with "OK, warm 'em up!" and walks off the starting area.

Everyone starts their bike to let them warm up. Folks are revving their 2-strokes, popping their clutches and launching forward a foot or so, and then backing up and doing it again and again. The exhaust is thick like blue tinted fog and the smell of premix is strong. This is a completely surreal moment for me. I can hardly believe that I am here, right now, at this place, at this moment in time. The temperature is chilly yet sunny, the sky is deep blue, and the colors all around are vivid and alive. I feel like I'm caught up in something that has taken on a life of its own and am being swept along now, like I'm no longer in control.

After a few minutes, the starter comes back out and gives the hand chop signal to cut the engines.

It takes a few moments for everyone to acknowledge and shut down their bike. In just a few short moments the whole starting area went from 250 revving race engines to almost utter silence. The remnant exhaust begins to slowly rise. After a few seconds I can hear the general murmur of the crowd, but otherwise all is quiet.

All eyes on are on the starter. He waves a green flag high and shouts "30 seconds!". If it was quiet before, you could hear a pin drop now.

The starter yells, "10 seconds!!"

The silent seconds tick away. Suddenly, the starter flashes the green flag and the first row roars to life. The racers speed away toward the first turn throwing clods of damp sticky earth high in the air. The race is underway!

After a few moments, the sounds of the first competitors trail off into the distance. Then the starter reappears and holds the green flag high.

"30 seconds!"

Once again, silence descends upon the field where only seconds before chaos reigned.

I am in the 8th row, Senior C 40+ class. Six more rows are ahead of me and several more behind me. My heart is pounding. I can hardly breathe.

"10 seconds!"

I see the 2nd row riders get into position to go, kickstarters ready, all eyes on the starter and the green flag. The flag waves once more and the next row thunders into motion. Another wave is off and disappears round the first turn.

Row after row starts the same way. One guy in the 4th or 5th row couldn't get his bike started and he was the sole remaining racer after his row left, rounded the first turn and trailed off into the distance. He kicked and kicked, but it would not fire. The starter yelled "Move the bike, move the bike!" The countdown continued unabated and he finally had to give up and push the bike off the starting area.

It seemed to take forever to get to my row, and yet at the same time it seemed only seconds. I look up to find no one in front of me. My row is next.

"30 seconds!"

I have no idea what to expect to find around the first turn. My heart feels like it is going to come through my chest. This is it.

"10 seconds!!"

A million things are racing through my mind. I place my thumb over my starter button. The green flag waves and I press the electric start. My engine fires to life though I can hardly hear it. I twist the throttle and ease out the clutch. My rear is hooking up pretty good and as the RPMs build I pull third gear.

I don't get a good start, I'm near the back going into the first turn. That's OK, I want to get the feel of things and don't need the pressure of a faster rider breathing down my neck so near the back is fine with me. We round the first turn and go down a long straight, cross a gravel road and over the ledge that the announcer mentioned at the start, and then right into the woods. The course is rutted deeply already because the pros and A riders raced just a few hours before us. I'm doing OK, not pushing myself too hard, trying to keep it on two wheels, and relax as much as I can. I'm moving now and it feels good. Part of the appeal of riding is the full concentration needed. It requires you to push all the distractions out of your head and demands your full focus. This is incredibly therapeutic because it clears your mind completely, except for you, the bike, the trail. This is where I am now - most of my pre-race jitters are gone and I'm starting to relax a little.

Aside from the ruts, the course is nice. It is pretty fast flowing, there are some rocks jutting out here and there, and some long pretty fast sections. I'm still taking it easy though because I don't know the course and the sun is getting low in the sky casting long shadows making it hard to read the terrain ahead. And at 2.6 miles in, we hit the first bottle neck - a rugged up-hill climb with a tricky combination of slick roots and rocks that twisted through some tight trees. There were about 8 riders stuck in front of me and there was no way around. We had to wait our turn and then press forward.

The course unwound like this for several more miles, areas of fairly open straights that gave way to sharp 130 degree switchback turns heading up the side of a steep hill, followed by several more switchback ascents, up more rocky sections with deep acceleration bumps. Line choice was critical in some places, many of those acceleration bumps would swallow your whole wheel. Several times I hit a nasty hole and made a mental note to avoid that on the next lap, but the next lap came around and smack, I was in it again. I eventually learned to avoid that line by the third lap. I'm learning. About three quarters of the way through the lap, there was a checkpoint and they punched the card that we taped to the handlebars - that's how they could tell if you cut the track, by counting the holes in your card. My card was punched - "Go go go!", with a hearty slap on the back from the enthusiastic check pointer.

The woods section of the course eventually gave way to the "supercross" section. I'm just a weekend trail rider and I've never even been on an MX track before, much less an SX. The jumps were huge and had steep faces to launch you high and out. I've never done such a large jump and there's so much I don't know about that - how fast to go, body position to keep the nose from diving, the landing ... I didn't think it would be very wise to attempt one of the most difficult and dangerous aspects of motocross my first time out. Remember objective #1: "No serious injuries!". So I lost lots of time in this section by rolling nearly everything. There were a few table tops that I got a little air on, but I decided not to push it here regardless, thinking about objective #1. Doesn't matter where I finish, as long as I finish. Small consolation considering the time I'm losing in this section, but it's fun nonetheless.

So I make my way around the SX section and then it's into the finish line gate where we pull into a covered pop-up and stop. A guy on the left checks my card, and a lady on my right beeps the barcode on my helmet. The electronic display directly in front of me shows that I'm in 16th place. Since I have no idea how many riders were in my class, the number is pretty meaningless to me.

Once they beep me through, they yelled "Go go go!" and waved me off, and it was back into the woods for my second lap. My arms are getting pumped and my heart rate is high. But I'm doing OK - I've survived one lap, and it wasn't that bad. And I'm having fun even though this is turning out to be one of the most grueling and intense things I've
ever done.

The second lap is much like the first, though the bottleneck is mostly gone now. One or two riders are stuck in front of me and I try to go around on an alternate, but more difficult line through the rocks. I spin out, and my bike gets stuck on a ledge between two trees. What'd I'd give for a little traction right now. I finally rock my bike through, but now my heart was really going and my arms getting rubbery. I churn through the roots which is now a deep rut. I made it on up and around to the top and it then descends and heads back down through the trees and then back up to the next switchback. I'm breathing heavy from the exertion on the hill and I have a rider right in front of me on a steep, tight switchback to the right. I'm thinking please don't stop, but he goes down anyway in spite of my wishes and at the worst possible place for me. I am midway through the switchback and needed to keep momentum to make it around, but him falling in front of me left me no where to go but to fall to the ground on the downward side of the hill, mid turn. Argh! My bike is laying down on the side of the hill, wheels on the high side. I get under it at the downhill side and lift with all I've got - it feels like lead. I somehow get it back up, and get my leg over. I'm really breathing heavy now and my heart is racing. Thank god for electric start, I don't wait around for my breathing to catch up, I'll do that once I get moving which I did as soon as I could and up the hill I'm going again. My goggles are now so fogged up and I can't see
anything. I pull a tear off - that doesn't help at all. Breathe!

When I exit the woods and onto the SX section, I use the open track to rest and hydrate from my camel bak. My throat is dry and I drink deeply. I can't go very fast here anyway since I'm rolling the jumps, so I decide that this part of the course is my recovery section, a place to rest a little, get some fluids, and give my arms a break.

It's now the third lap, I'm starting to make more mistakes, nearly going off into the trees in a few places. I force myself to slow down and not get out of sorts. My arms are pumped and are now officially rubber, I can barely operate the controls. At the gnarly hill section, a bike is laying off to one side with a massive root spiraling around in the spokes of the rear wheel like a tattered rope, as if the forest liked that one so much it decided to try and keep it. The rider is using some tool and attempting to cut it free from the snare. I can't spare much attention for his plight before working my way on past. On around to the checkpoint, they punch my card and I continue on the march. I feel like I'm in front of a massive freight train, I have to keep moving or I'll be overtaken and shoved aside. Can't stop, have to keep going.

On the fourth lap at the card punch checkpoint, the puncher says it's the last lap, make the best of it. As soon as I pass and am winding down the course in the woods, my arms on fire, I wonder if he meant this is my last lap or will I be around to see him again? I'm praying to god that this is the last lap. I am spent.

I make my way around the course to complete the final lap. The last time display still had me at 16th so I think I am probably last, since my position remained 16th the whole time. I'm a little bummed about that, but the combination of being both exhilarated and exhausted at the same time out weigh any disappointment at my finish position. At the finish line a bottleneck of riders wait to cross and I pull in behind them. It looks like first come first serve, wait your turn to cross, but several riders force their way on past anyway. What the heck? I think I just lost several positions as I'm waiting here to cross the finish! I'm too tired to argue.

I eventually get beeped on through, and it would be a little while before the results are posted so we went back to the truck, changed out of our gear, loaded our bikes on the trailer, drank a lot of water, and then went back up to see where we finished.

I eventually learned that I finished 17 out of 19 in my class, or 187 out of 241 overall. So I wasn't last, and I did finish! Even though the race was a lot tougher than I expected, I had a great time. I didn't bust up my bike or myself, and nobody used me for traction. So all in all I feel pretty good about that. I do wish I had a better placement, but I met all my objectives going in. It was a very rewarding experience and is definitely something that I will do again. Next time, knowing more of what to expect, I'll see if I can finish a little better. I'm hooked.

 

That's awesome Nobrakes!!!..good for you!!!...How old are you, anyways? By the sounds of it, you are over 40? am I right? and in your first race?
S W E E T !! Even your write-up had my heart beating a little faster!...Very Inspiring!

 

I'm 41, soon to be 42 in a month or two. It was a lot of fun. Definitely try one if you haven't but think it's something you might like do. It's a great time all round.

 

My riding buddies and i have already talked about laying out a "route" on a couple of back roads and ATV trails and having each of us run the route one at a time to see who can get the best time. I think I'd like to do that before i subject myself and any other riders to my presence on a track...lol But maybe ina year or two, i could try a race like that, I am sure I'd love it once I got some more saddle time on the dirtbikes.[8D]

 

Congrats no brakes! Seems like you had a great time. As long as you can finish I consider it a win. Did a few with my brother in PA. I'll leave the woods for you guys, damn trees seem to jump out at you. Hey my brother goes all over to race harescrambles from Georgia. Vet 30 C . If you see # 667 on a KTM 450 EXC put him in a corner for me!

 

Great write-up No Brakes! Congrats on reaching all of your goals too. Its not always about winning like you said, its about having fun and coming home unhurt with hopefully with as little damage to the bike as possible! By looking at that photo, I'd mistake you for a pro haha.

 

Great race report, Brian. Way to go! It sounds like you did well on your objectives. So, have you been hitting the gym or did you do this cold? That's a tough session to do without being in top condition. Congratulations, Pal.

Bill Dragoo
Norman, Oklahoma

 

Thanks Bill. I've always jogged, mountain biked, etc, for as long as I can remember, but not so much in the past few years and I've put on a few pounds. But for the past year or so I've been going to the gym and doing weights and core, with some stationary bike on and off. And for the past few weeks I've been doing gym and more consistent cardio on the bike.

I'm sure that helped, but I know it wasn't enough because I was whipped by end and I'm pretty sore today, especially my arms, forearms, biceps, and hands. I've got a whole new respect for folks that can run those races up front and be competitive. I was in the afternoon race with "B", "C", and "Unlimited" classes and most of those guys were really into it. I can't even imagine the "Pro" and "A" riders who raced a few hours before us. You got to be in top shape to do that stuff for several hours straight and put down consistent laps from start to finish.

I am but a grasshopper.

 

Ahhhh Nobrakes you make us all look like noobs. Glad you did the race, it sure sounds way more involved and intense than a poker run. Way to go man!! Or should I say old man!![8D] I'm 43 and so outta shape its not funny, I can totally respect you for taking on an event like this. Oh by the way you should submit that story to a DS mag, loved the way you wrote it. Keep up the great work.

 

Great job!!!! Very good wright up I feel like I was there. I have a klx250 and just printed off info on the stump-jumper enduro- never raced but it looks like fun- at 46 I'm old, with the klx I'm underpowered- like you I look to live through it first- and if I finish that would be great. And I would be ok with last.

By the way- how long was the event?