and it was gooood.
Headed to Sacramento for some of this action.
Fought all kinds of hellish suburban traffic, Tracy can disappear back into the fourth dimension of hell where it came from for all I care.
Stopped in Stockton and picked up Old Gianni and hauled him with me. You will never fall asleep with OG in the car, and you will learn more about horse racing than you probably care to.
After some nifty driving, we got there about 5, race was to start at 6 sharp. Probably 100 folks total, with about 20-25 in the cross class.
The race was billed as no t-shirts, no trophies, no whining, and if there were only 4 people in a cat, they got combined, basically, all experts, then all SS, then all crossers, dunno after that, though there were lots of families and kids, very cool, especially for the low price of
15 bucks for a first timer, then 10 every week afterwards, just racin', no frills.
The place is a state OHV park that is closed on Wednesdays and only opens for us. Real cool descents, whoops, berms, and sand from all the motos blowing it apart. Cross features were a downed tree we hopped and a set of hay bales as barriers, ooof!
Well, it's about 100 degrees and I'm sweating like a dog on the warmup lap, I can't tell if I'm warmed up or just warm, but here we go.
I follow the holeshot guy then let it sort a little. One skinny fella gets a gap and I cross to him, we rolled on just kind of stretching the band a little. I can see the SS bunch ahead of us and figure if we get to them we can use them to hide a little, I guess it worked, because soon we are alone. Another guy joins us and I take a big pull up the hill, then hop the bales. I got a little confused with my direction and the cones and the other two take off spitting gravel behind them.
I catch em but keep burning matches to do it, then flail enough that they get the gap. I then go into a total flail mode with sliding, sand crawling, and hole diving for about five minutes, in which one and two pull away, and three catches me and then drops my sorry ass.
I'm deep in the pain cave and start thinking about golf, then pull myself together and welcome the pain. I think that I won't die in fifteen minutes irregardless of the long line of drool on my chin and the complete inability to spit and actually get face/drool separation.
Once I bucked up, it was much better. I put the glasses away since I can't see through them anyway due to the dust, and start chasing wheels. Unfortunately, 3 is long gone while I wallowed, but I do ride some very nice lines through some gnarl, including a 150 foot drop down a rutted hill with a right turn in a sand pit below, and the sand pits on the back section, which are my personal nemesis.
Drove up the finishing hill the last time, hop the bale/barriers, and see OG wandering around with a cold bottle, thank God.
I got a lot of work to do, a lot of interval work before October and November, but for being in Base, I'll take it.
OG had a flashback and remembered taking me here when I was a snot nosed BMX kid and me fighting with the moto-heads over trails and such. Some things come full circle, I guess.
Oh yeah, I got 2nd in the Geezey, the first two were younguns. Very tough younguns.
It's gonna be a good year.
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2 comments:
SWEET!!!!
face drool seperation
exactly
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