Sparkplug Redux

Sparkplug 2009

It has been just over a year since my re-entry into the dirt bike/trail riding world and much has changed. You may remember my story of how I attempted my very first enduro event last year at the 2008 Sparkplug Enduro, and how I bit off a lot more than I could chew. It was an eye opening experience to say the least. My goals were as follows:


1. finish the 55 mile short course
2. try not to hour out
3. stay injury free


If you count being severely humbled as an injury, I left that event 0 for 3.


During the months following the event, due to my work schedule I basically was able to only ride a handful of times. Including "poker-runs" and just a few fun rides. I did, however, attempt and complete the 2008 Black Bear Enduro in November and felt much better about my riding. I was able to finish the ride and actually finished 4th out of 9 riders in my group.



So the new year comes around and I've been out riding in the winter weather exactly 2 times since the Black Bear, when I noticed the 2009 Sparkplug event was being held March 29th. I started to get a nervous twitch in my left eye just recalling the last time I attempted that treacherous event. But after a few seconds, I decided that I needed to "get back on the horse" and see if I could conquer it.

My WR before the ride

The day before the event, the weather was so nasty with a rain/snow mix that fell all day long that I briefly considered not going. I remembered how soaking wet I was after the '08 "plug" that I was not looking forward to another ride feeling like a soggy sponge all day. But I then told myself that I had to go no matter what, even if it destroyed me.


The morning of the ride, I left my house in Gig Harbor about 6:30 and made my way north to Tahuya. The sky looked clear as I drove and I thought it might be a nice day for a ride after all. I made it to the staging area about 7:30 and unsuccessfully attempted to find a parking spot. If there were any no-shows to the event due to weather, the busy parking lot sure didn't reflect it. I ended up having to park down the road a mile or so and after getting everything unloaded, I awkwardly carry my gas can to the gas trailer on the back of my bike and waited in line to register. I signed up for the Senior C class which is supposed to be novice level riders that are between 40 and 49 years old, (by the way, since when is 40 considered a "Senior"? Do I get a AARP discount?). I asked to be put on the latest minute possible and was given 9:58. I know for a fact that there were later minutes available but I decided not to say anything as I decided that it wasn't that important. It just meant that more riders were going to have to pass me, that's all. I paid my $45 and waited around for the riders' meeting. The meeting was very brief but it covered all I needed to know. I then took the bike over and waited in a short line for the sound test. While in the line, I had some kid right in front of me with a Honda 2-stroke that felt he needed to rev it over and over and over... Maybe I'm getting too old but it irritated the crap out of me. The WR passed the sound test with "flying colors" (96db) and I was now all set to go.

This is the gas trailer

I headed back to the truck since I had about an hour to wait for my start time. While at the truck I made a decision to not wear the belt pack I had on that carried my tools. I transfered the tools to another pouch in my hydration pack and it felt much less bulky to only wear one pack instead of two. I then ate a couple sandwiches to fuel myself up and got ready to go.

My time card

I made my way to the starting area and waited my turn. While waiting, I signed the release on the clipboard that was handed to me. ":58!" was yelled out by the starter so I made my way up to the front. There were 2 other riders on the same minute and brief introductions were made. Starter says "go" and we all start our machines and get going. (By the way, I still have yet to have anyone explain the need for a dead engine start at an enduro event.)

The starting area

I start out feeling a bit tight. My forearms were already sore and I didn't know why. A half-mile into the ride, I missed a turn and ended up in the brush. (I noticed this happened quite a few times during the entire ride so either I was exceedingly unaware of the signage, or the club members who designed the course did a good job of throwing in a few "gotchas". I think it was a bit of both.) I got myself back on course and was already playing "catch-up". The first few miles went by and I noticed that the trail was quite a bit easier than I remembered from the '08 event. One of the advantages of having ridden this event before was knowing that this was just their way to lull you into a false sense of security. The trail would be getting much more difficult... don't you worry.

This is the first turn I missed

At mile 4.2, I was cruising down a fairly easy stretch of trail when just as I gassed it to get over a small obstacle, my right hand completely slipped off the grip. I felt like everything went into slow motion and I saw that I was heading straight for a small tree. I ended up landing just short of the tree with my arms almost wrapped completely around it. As soon as I realized that I was essentially uninjured, I laughed a bit thinking that had just become a tree hugger, at least in the literal sense. I got back on and thought to myself that if I only get one big crash per event, then I should be done... right? We'll see.


Checkpoint 1:


Because I'm a novice enduro rider, I don't even bother with a roll chart. I pretty much have to ride all out just to not "hour out" so what would be the point in having a roll chart? If anything it would just be a distraction and cause me to wipe out at least 2 or 3 more times than usual. At some point in the last year I had decided that the first time I "burn" a checkpoint in an enduro, I'll start thinking about getting a roll chart and a good timer. So checkpoint 1 came into view and I somehow felt that even with my missed turn and my crash, that I was going to be early. Sure enough, I stopped and the guy started writing... I looked at the clock and it said "8:57". One minute early. I figured that if I could be that slow and still be early, there must've been a few other guys and gals who burned that check as well. (turns out I was right)


After check one, the course became a bit tougher. There were parts of the "trail" that could only be called a trail because there may have been a rabbit or a squirrel that had traversed the area once or twice in the last 12 months. Even though 60+ bikes had already been here ahead of me, it still looked like hardly anyone had been there before. There were fallen trees, slippery rocks and super tight sections that required you to "walk" your handlebars through the trees. At one point there was a fairly large cluster of rocks that appeared after a sharp, muddy corner and for a second I felt like maybe we were riding at Erzberg. (ok, it wasn't THAT bad)


With all the soft and slippery terrain, I was extremely happy that I had a "secret" weapon. Well, it was apparently only a secret to me, until somebody clued me in. The last 2 events that I participated in I was using the rock hard, street legal stock tires. I had many other riders say to me that if I had better tires that I would enjoy the ride much more. So a week before the '09 event, I purchased new tires, including a Michelin X11 trials tire for the rear and a Pirelli MT21 for the front. Compared to the "Trailwings" tires that came on the bike from the factory, these tires were amazing. I can honestly say that these tires saved my butt on at least a dozen occasions. If it hadn't been for the increased traction, there is no way I could've made it as far as I did.


Mile 25 or so:


Last year I only made it 25 miles. This time when I looked at my odometer, I realized that I actually was feeling good. I was enjoying the challenge and feeling confident that I'd be able to complete the course. I may not score very well, but I should be able to finish barring any major issues.

Through most of the densely wooded trails it was twisty and slippery, and the lack of visibility caused me to be a little uncertain around some of the blind corners. So when I got out into the clear-cut areas, I initially got this sensation that the trails were somewhat easier due to the increased visibility. Then reality set in. Some of the clear-cut sections were actually more difficult since they were filled with rocks and fallen trees that appeared to, (suspiciously), be put there intentionally. There also was one part that had a steep sandy hill that ended with a near vertical ledge. Had it not been for the new rear tire, I probably wouldn't have made it up on the first try. I also had a run in with a small tree stump. I cut a tight left corner a bit too tight and whammed the shift lever back up and partially over the foot peg. There really wasn't much space to pull over and work on it so I decided to continue on until either the next checkpoint or a nice open area where I could bend it back. I thought I might be stuck in first gear but found out that I could use my heel to shift up. I made it to the next checkpoint without too much trouble and was able to use a well calibrated kick with my right boot to get it back to a usable position. Ride on.

about mile 40 or so

The next section had some amazingly steep drop-offs that you had to ride along. I felt like these deep canyons were like something from The Lord of The Rings, and if you missed a turn or slipped in the mud too much, you'd be tumbling all the way down to the "Shire". There also was a series of steep, muddy hills to climb. And while I had the fantastic new tires to propel me up them, they couldn't see around the blind corner where there was some kid stuck just below the summit of the muddy hill. Since neither the tires nor I saw him, I had to stop... which obviously meant I had lost all my momentum. He finally got himself over the top and now I had to get off the bike and "push-ride" it up to the top. This was much more tiring that I had hoped it would be. I really was fatigued after that and I took it easy for the next few minutes to catch my breath. Prior to reaching the top though, another rider had come up behind me and also had to stop. Of course I felt bad for the guy because I knew that he was going to have to do the same thing. I suppose it's just the way it goes.

Shortly after that hill, I came upon a rider who was letting me by. This was pretty rare since I normally was on the other end of this exchange of places but this one was even rarer in that the other rider was riding the same bike as I was. Yes, there was another idiot out on this gnarly trail riding a nearly 300lb WR250R. The man was obviously nuts. I thought about using this as an excuse to stop and rest by asking him about what modifications he may have done, etc... but alas, I kept on trudging through the mud and goop so I could hopefully make it home before dark.

At roughly 30 miles, there was a gas stop (gas check, whatever) and I knew from riding past events that I would need to top off. I put roughly 2 gallons in and while the excellent volunteers were there helping me, I overheard them discussing someone who might be getting in too late to get their fuel. I told them that I would donate whatever was left in my can. I know it wasn't much but i figure it'd be better than nothing. I headed back out on to the trail and still felt pretty good. (I never did get my can back... oh well, I guess maybe they thought I meant to donate the entire can too?)

Somewhere around the 40 mile mark the trails got extremely muddy and by the time I showed up, they were also badly rutted. As I traversed this area, I encountered a lot more slippery tree roots than usual. I started calling this the "ruts and roots" section. I also started getting a slight case of "monkey butt" and tried to stand up as often as possible. The problem was that with all the ruts and roots, it was exceedingly difficult for me to maintain my balance so I had to use my feet to prevent potential crashes. This meant that the "monkey butt" issue was getting worse. In spite of this new development, I still felt good overall and was confident that I could finish.

Here's a good action shot taken by one of the other competitor's friend. I'll post his name if I can find it.

I kept waiting for a fast section or a big reset so I could make up some time, but it seemed that every checkpoint I got to, my times got a bit worse. It didn't get worse by much, but worse none-the-less.


I finally made it to the second-to-last checkpoint and was 40 minutes behind my time, (the clock said :38 and my time was :58). This actually was good in my opinion since the previous check I was also roughly 40 minutes behind. This meant I was keeping a reasonable pace. I wasn't making up any time but I wasn't really losing any either. The "Checkpoint Commander", (I'm not really sure if they have a title like that or not but I thought it sounded cool), told me that I should have about 5 miles left. I was happy to hear that and headed off across the road, (with the great help from the volunteers keeping a watch out for traffic), and entered the last section of trail. Knowing this was the "home stretch", I actually had a boost of energy and was riding with more confidence now. There was a long straight stretch of dirt road and that allowed me to speed up over 40 mph for a bit. I could just taste the cold beverages waiting for me back at the truck. Then, to my dismay, the trail took a detour into more tight and twisty turns with tree roots and mud. I wasn't as bummed about the terrain as much as I was about the fact that this was going to delay me from consuming the aforementioned beverages.

My WR after the event

I hadn't seen another rider in quite some time at this point and it was somewhat relaxing not to have to worry about someone passing me or having someone in the way. Which is why this next scene was somewhat weird to me. I came upon a rider with his helmet off and bike leaning against a tree. He didn't seem hurt so I didn't stop but when he looked at me I could've sworn it was Terry O'Quinn, who plays "John Locke" in the TV series "LOST". I briefly considerd stopping and asking for an autograph but being that I don't follow the show and I was determined to get back to the truck, I just kept going. I later thought that maybe they were filming in Tahuya for an episode and I probably ruined the scene they were shooting.


I continued on and felt that my pace was steady. I wasn't breaking any speed records but in spite of being on the bike for nearly 5 hours straight through all kind of treachery, I was feeling better than I expected.


Course split:


OK, here's where I made a mental error. The trail took me across a small bridge and at the other side were arrows pointing in both directions. Earlier in the ride there were a few instances where the trail would split ever so slightly and you could choose to go either way and it would end up bringing you back to the same trail. For whatever reason, (it probably looked easier at the time), I chose to go left. I made my way down the trail for a couple minutes but I started to get a feeling that something wasn't right. Being a pilot and having an instictive sense of direction, (with the possible exception of trying to find Salty's restaurant one evening... don't get my wife started on that one.), I could tell I was heading in the wrong direction if I wanted to get back to the staging area. I made the decision to turn around and sure enough, when I got back to the split, I noticed a white sign that I hadn't noticed before that read in big letters: "SHORT COURSE ---->" Damn... I just lost a few more minutes that I really couldn't afford. So I head off in the right direction slightly cursing myself for not paying attention.


The last couple miles were basically more of the same but they were well worn trails so it wasn't too terribly difficult. I finally saw the last checkpoint and was anxious to see how I did. The guy said ":02" and I was a bit confused. This would mean that I either made up 36 minutes (not likely) and was now only 4 minutes behind my time, OR... I somehow went so slow that I lost an additional 24 mintues. I'm fairly confident that I was going fast enough to not lose that much time, however, it's the only plausible explanation. The 3 or 4 minutes I lost on my course split confusion wasn't enough to lose that much time so I guess I just didn't keep up with the 18mph average that was required during the last section. I assumed that this meant that I "houred out" once again. I did tell the guys at the checkpoint that I was a minute or so early at the first checkpoint if that helped at all... it didn't.


I rode back to the truck with mixed feelings. I was bummed about the last checkpoint time but I felt good about the fact that I rode over 55 miles through some tough terrain and still felt like I could ride more. This was a HUGE improvement from last year where I could barely remove my wet socks after the short distance I managed to ride.


As far as I was concerned, I achieved my goal to complete the ride that I couldn't a year ago and to do so without feeling like it took every ounce of my energy to do so. Don't get me wrong, it was the toughest ride I've ever done, but I finished the course feeling relatively strong and like I could've ridden more if need be... (although there would've had to have been a really strong need.)

The next day the results were posted online and to my surprise, it showed me actually completing the course. Of the 96 riders that actually started the short course, I finished 76th. The two riders immediately after me also finished and were given scores for the last checkpoint. Everyone who was #79 and higher didn't finish for whatever reason. Based on how the points are scored, it showed that I was only 46 minutes late to the last checkpoint. Which, to be honest, is about how it felt to me while I was riding. I knew I wasn't making up time but I really didn't feel like I was losing that much either.


Overall:


The ride was well designed. The Bremerton Cruisers Motorcycle Club did a fantastic job putting on the event and I hope that everyone who participated thanked them.


I felt good about my results. I had no delusions about bringing home any trophies but I wanted to ride the entire 55+ miles and not feel like I just rode the Baja 1000... on a moped.

Slight tangent here...


One thing I noticed about the classes riders are registering in. As I mentioned earlier, the Senior C class is supposed to be for novice riders who are between the ages of 40-49. I looked at the score sheets and the top 3 riders in the Senior C class had better scores than a few of the Senior A class riders who are considered, (at least by themselves), to be expert level riders. I realize that it's possible that the C-class guys could've had a great day while the A-class guys may have stumbled a bit, but the reality is that if you are scoring good enough to beat ANY A-class rider, you're definitely NOT a novice and shouldn't be registering in the C class. In my opinion, there were at least 5 to 7 riders in the Senior C class that should've been in the B-class or higher just based on their scores. In the end it wouldn't have made any difference in my score, I just might've been 7th out of 8 instead of 13th out of 14. Just an observation, that's all.

Ultimately, I'm glad I took on the challenge and finally "conquered" the Sparkplug Enduro. I think the enduro format is great and if I were to ever decide to get serious about competing, I would pursue the enduro series.


Thanks again to all the Bremerton Cruisers Motorcycle Club volunteers, I had a great time and who knows, I may even see you next year?

See, I could even manage a slight smile afterward.

Nubs

If you've read my previous posts regarding the enduro rides I've done, you may have noticed that there were a few negative comments made about my tires. I've been riding on the stock, street legal tires that had come on the bike since I brought it home from the showroom. I never thought much of it but it turns out that those rock hard tires were absolutely awful for riding in the slippery conditions that I'm almost always riding in. I decided after completing the 2008 Black Bear Enduro that I wouldn't ride another organized event with the stock tires. So a couple weeks ago I noticed that the notorious "Sparkplug Enduro" was being held on March 29th and I thought that if I'm going to even consider attempting that ride again that I'd better get some new shoes for the WR.

Nubs

Michelin X11

So last Saturday, (March 21st), I went out and got new rubber and had Cycle Gear put them on the wheels for me. I opted for the Michelin X11 trials tire for the rear because I've heard nothing but good things about these tires from all the good riders. For the front I put on a Pirelli MT21 which seems to be a decent knobby and I think it may even be DOT approved.



Saturday afternoon I decided to change the oil and filter and as dirty as the oil was, I'm glad I did. I got the wheels back on, chain adjusted and lubed and was ready to go on a trail ride. Fortunately for me, my friend Dan Thompson had invited me to go on a ride on Sunday with he and a couple of his buddies up at Tahuya. I accepted.


Sunday morning, (not too early mind you), I loaded up the bike and met Dan, Tom and Dave in Belfair at the McDonalds. We all had a "nourishing" meal and then headed up to the ORV park. I expected it be busy, and it was. There were quite a few campers and trailers at the staging areas so we decided to park out on the main road near one of the trailheads. I had never ridden with any of these guys so I really didn't know what to expect. I was pretty confident that I wasn't going to be as fast as they were but I just didn't know by how much. I also didn't really know what to expect as far as how far they were planning on riding that day. I had packed a lunch but didn't really think to pack it with me on the ride since I normally go ride for a couple hours and then come back to the car to take a break. It turns out these guys just go and ride all day and take a lunch break somewhere out on the trail. I'll know to pack my lunch with me next time.


So we hit the trail without much fanfare and I took up the rear as I assumed I was going to be the slowest, I was right. I'd like to have an excuse such as I was an old man compared to these punk kids, but it just wasn't true. Tom, who was probably the fastest and most aggressive, was at least 3 years older than I. Dan is the same age as I am but was much faster through the trails. Dave, who I thought was very skilled and also fast, is somewhere in his mid-fifties. So I just accepted the fact that I was going to be playing catch-up all day with these guys. Initially, I felt like I had to hurry to catch them but after a few close calls, I decided it wasn't worth snapping a leg off or something just to try to keep up. This wasn't a race so I just kept pluggin' along and every so often the guys would wait for me somewhere. It usually wasn't too terribly long of a wait for them, (I don't think), and no-one seemed to be upset.


No long after we got going, Dan's Honda started having a problem idling. In fact, it wouldn't idle at all. We stopped on the trail and with a bit of tinkering, Dave seemed to have gotten the idle screw to adjust a little bit. This normally isn't a difficult task but since the idle screw cable was broken, it required a pair of vise-grips and his reading glasses.

Dave working on Dan's Honda

We continued on and it was narrow and tricky right from the "get-go". Only later on in the day did the trails get easier, which seemed backward to me. Due to the many people out and about this beautiful Sunday, we had far too many instances where we'd encounter a pack of riders going the other direction on the trail. The trail is only wide enough for one bike at a time and has a ton of blind corners. It's amazing more people aren't involved in collisions on these trails. We were fortunate not to actually collide with anyone but getting past everyone was tricky at times.


One of the major reasons I wanted to go on this ride was to see how different the new tires were compared to the rock hard Dunlops I had on before. I was hoping to immediately notice such a huge difference in traction that I could definitively say that my old tires were the entire reason for all my past riding failures. This wasn't the case. It was, however, a noticeable improvement. I found that the rear wheel didn't spin as much while going over the mud, rocks and tree roots. This gave me a little boost in confidence that allowed me to be a bit more aggressive over certain types of terrain. I still need to improve my conditioning and overall skills, but the tires will help save my ass in certain situations.


Another thing I noticed on the ride was that I was in 2nd gear much of the time but the gearing is such that the engine would bog down pretty bad if I got too slow and I was forced to shift down to 1st. This is normal I realize but toward the end of the ride, Dan and I switched bikes just for fun and I found his CR250F was geared such that I could ride in 2nd almost to a stop and it wouldn't bog the engine too badly. In fact, I used 3rd in places that I'd never normally use 3rd with my WR. I'd like to try a larger sprocket on the rear sometime in the future to see how well that works. I also noticed Dan's bike had immediate throttle response off the bottom end and that was nice to have the power right at your fingertips. My 250 has a small, but noticeable, dead spot at the initial hit of the throttle. I believe I've read somewhere that other WR owners are able to remedy this problem with aftermarket exhaust, airbox mods or even possibly re-mapping of the fuel computer. I'm not sure but I should probably research this more.


One other thing I noticed about Dan's bike was it was a bit lower. This is due to him cutting the foam down in the seat. Initially it seemed like a good idea because it really does make it easier to touch the ground. However, after riding on what seemed like a fabric covered 2x6, I decided that I'll look into other options for lowering the bike. While I enjoyed riding his bike, (I really did), the seat made it feel like I was riding on a stagecoach where the seat on my bike is so plush, it's more like a Lincoln Continental. While riding behind Dan earlier in the ride, I had noticed he stood up a lot... now I know why.


After all was said and done, we had ridden roughly 37 miles. This pleased me... knowing that I hadn't eaten anything or had any hydration since starting the ride and I still felt pretty good was good to know. The upcoming Sparkplug Enduro short course is about 50 miles long so if I eat and drink properly, I should be able to feel ok for the whole ride, theoretically of course.


Thanks to Dan, Tom and Dave for letting me tag along on the ride. I enjoyed getting out and breaking in the new tires and knocking some of the rust off.

Old Skool

I recently sifted through a bunch of old photos and I came across some old quad pics from the early 90s. I just thought it'd be a good idea to post them for all to enjoy.

At the Beverly Dunes in Eastern Washington. (Photo by Tony Marrapodi)

More Beverly Dunes

John Garner (Lump) and I after a good ride. (Photo by Tony Marrapodi)

Down on the river.

I went on a half-day ride up at Tahuya yesterday with "Joe the neighbor". We left my place around 8am and were on the trails by 9. Joe was on his Honda TRX quad and I, of course, was on my WR. I was initially concerned that the two different types of machines would'nt really be compatible in terms of speed and capabilities, etc... but after a while it became evident that it worked out just fine. The WR wasn't really suited for the big 'ol mud bog but I was able to skirt around the edges and keep from getting sucked into the deep goop. Joe's quad basically blasted right through all the guck due to the large balloon tires. Once we finished with that mess, we headed back to the truck for a quick water break.

Joe at the bog

Down by the river

We headed back out and this time I took us over by where I found Lola last April. We ended up exploring a bunch of new trails (to us) and our exploration took us to the river. We took a few photos and then headed back out on the trails. We found a large, muddy area with some deep "whoops". It was actually quite fun to traverse this section and I grabbed a few photos of Joe doing so.

Joe riding the whoops

We got back to the truck, loaded up and headed home.

It was a nice day to ride, but then again, most any day is a good day to ride.

Blasphemy! (sort of)

I just received my latest issue of Trail Rider Magazine, (yes, the one that published my Sparkplug story) and inside it has a riders review of the WR250R. Since I own that bike I thought it would be interesting to see what the professional riders (writers?) had to say about the bike I enjoy.

The first paragraph contains the following words:

"This is not the kind of bike you're going to ride in the average bike-killing NETRA turkey run, or definitely not in an enduro. The WR250R is not made for that kind of riding."

They do back-off that comment a little by stating: "At least it's not made for it right out of the box."

I know that my Sparkplug Enduro experience wasn't very successful but it had almost entirely to do with my lack of conditioning and skill as opposed to the WR's capabilities. The mere fact that I finished The Black Bear Enduro on a mostly stock, (the only mods I've done are add accessories like handguards, etc...), WR250R tells me that this bike is more than capable of riding in these events. Just imagine if I was an "A" or "B" class rider and had put a trials bike tire on the back and a decent front tire on. I'll bet the results would've surprised a lot of people.

I wouldn't argue that it's as good as the KTMs or Huskys or the other bikes that are specifically designed for that type of riding, but in my opinion the WR is more than capable for riding these types of rides and doing so without a bunch of modifications.

If any WR250R owners out there ever read this, let me know what your thoughts are. I'd love to see if I'm the only one who feels this way. Shoot me an email if you like.

Fistfulls of fur!

That's what it takes to ride a bear. Well that, and some large, brass cajones and possibly a screw or two loose.

...

In order to ride the "Black Bear Enduro" however, all you need is a motorcycle, some riding gear, and possibly a screw or two loose.

...

Oh yeah, and $45.

...

The "2008 Black Bear Enduro" event is hosted by the Cascade Family Motorcycle Club and was held on November 2nd at the Tahuya State Forest ORV park near Belfair, WA.

I actually hadn't planned on riding any organized events the rest of this year but when I realized last week that I actually had a weekend off, I thought I'd look at the NMA events calendar to see if there was anything going on. I noticed that the Black Bear Enduro was being held and for some reason I thought it'd be a good idea to sign up and give it a try... and subject myself to another day of torture. If you are wondering what I mean by "another day of torture", you should read my post from last April that described my experience riding my first ever enduro event. I'll wait until you're done reading it...

...ok, now that you're up to date on my past fiasco, let's get to my lastest attempt at riding an enduro.

There were a few important lessons I learned from riding the "Sparkplug Enduro", and from those valuable lessons I was much better prepared for "The Black Bear".

First off, since April I have acquired a motorcycle trailer, (thanks Dad), that tows nicely behind my SUV. This is a VAST improvement from loading the WR into the back of my '75 F100 (that I paid $500 for) with a slippery 2X6 as a ramp. While I love my old truck, it's loud and has no heater, and worst of all it has no radio of any kind. So Sunday morning at 6am I'm leaving my house in Gig Harbor and heading northward toward Tahuya. I'm caffeinated, warm and surrounded by sounds from the Tragically Hip, provided nicely by the CD player in the afore-mentioned SUV. The drive to Tahuya is only 30-40 minutes from my place so before too long I'm pulling into the staging area and looking for a place to park. I found a spot and started unloading. I felt a bit like I did the last time I tried an enduro and was a bit nervous, but this time I had some idea of what to expect so it was a little less stressful. I knew exactly ZERO people there so I had no-one to share thoughts with or bounce ideas off of, but that's basically what I expected anyway so I guess I can't complain.

I headed on down to the covered area to register and get my time card. I asked the cute gals there to put me in the slowest/crappiest class available and asked if they had something like a "sportsman" class. I also asked to be put on the very last minute available because from my past experience, I really didn't want to hold up anyone behind me by going too slow. I also planned on crashing plenty and on the extremely narrow trails, there's no place for other riders to get around you. At first they looked at me like I had a third nostril... then they decided that they did in fact have a "sportsman" class and I was summarily handed a time card with the start minute of "8:47" and "sportsman" written on the top of it. I noticed that I wasn't put at the back of the pack as I had hoped but I figured there were only about a dozen or so riders that would have to pass me or use me as traction to get by... so I didn't say anything more about it. I paid my $45 and was on my way back to the truck.

I noticed a couple guys parked nearby that looked as if they'd done this a lot, (hell, they were drinking beer for breakfast, they must've known what the hell was going on), and asked them if they had some duct tape (or "Duck" tape if you prefer). I used the borrowed tape to adhere the time card to my front fender and returned the rest of the roll. They barely even looked at me.

I had a while to wait until my start time so I got all "gussied up" and took a quick little ride to see how everything felt. This was the first time I rode with a "Camelbak" hydration pack and I wanted to see if it caused any imbalance while riding. After a short jaunt, I determined that it worked well. (Why didn't I use it during the Sparkplug????). I got back to the truck and shortly before I headed down to the starting gate, I made an impulsive decision. I decided to grab a few wrenches and an allen wrench set and toss them into my pack. I find out later that this decision turns out to be a valuable one.

As before, I had a few goals in mind for this ride, they are as follows...

1. Don't get significantly injured

2. Try to complete the entire short course

3. Try not to "hour out"

4. If I do "hour out", try to make it past the 4th checkpoint before doing so.

5. Relax and have fun.

Let's see how well I did with these goals.

8:47: As with the Sparkplug ride a few months ago, the start is from a dead stop with engines off. I still am somewhat baffled as to why this is important. The short course, (55 miles or so), takes a few hours to complete, so why does starting with a dead engine make any difference? It literally takes me .83 seconds to push the magic button and start the engine. Some of the more adventurous folks have to actually use manual labor and kick start the motor to life but even then it's anywhere from 1 to 2 seconds to make it go zoom. I'm here to tell you that I wasted more time just picking my ass up out of the brush and mud during the course of the ride so it can't be about the time wasted starting the motor. It must be done in case you can't actually get your bike started. If that's the case, you're just better off heading back to the truck and finishing off the rest of your half-rack of "breakfast" and calling it a day.

Myself and some other dude that I've never met, started our machines and headed off mere seconds after 8:47am. I let him go first since I was convinced that I'd never see him again as soon as we got into the single track. It wasn't 45 seconds into the ride and he stalled his bike and waved me by. I chuckled to myself thinking that I'd be seeing him soon as he flew by.

Interestingly enough, the first 10-15 minutes went by and I was feeling better and more confident then last time. I didn't have riders chomping at the bit to get by me and I was cruising along nicely. The first checkpoint came into view before I expected it and I stopped while one of the checkpoint workers called out "8:48" and the other one wrote "8:48" on my time card. I was fairly amazed at the fact that I arrived at Checkpoint 1 only ONE minute behind the prescribed pace. If I remember correctly, I was 9 minutes behind the pace at Checkpoint 1 during the Sparkplug so this was already an improvement. I also was feeling pretty skippy that I hadn't crashed yet either. I did my best to not get overconfident but I couldn't help feeling better about staying upright on the bike considering how slimey and slippery the conditions were.

I want to take a second and say that the volunteers that worked at all the checkpoints and fuel stops, etc... were absolutely awesome and really made the ride go smoothly. If not for them, I'm sure the event wouldn't even be possible. A big "thank you" to all those who worked the event.

So after about 12 miles went by, I started feeling a bit fatigued. I was somewhat unhappy with this new development because I didn't think I had been working all that hard yet and I knew that I still had a long way to go. A few doubts started creeping into my head about the possibility of completing the ride. My only previous experience ended with me not able to finish the course so I was starting to think that it was just going to be a repeat of last time. But I trudged on.

One thing I've noticed about riding these events is that nothing makes you more tired then having to pick up your bike after crashing. Now even though I techincally hadn't crashed yet, (by my definition), I did have a few instances where I had come to a stop after bouncing and sliding around and then just kinda tipped over. I'm not a big guy so picking up my 300lb WR was a bit of a task for me. I only had a few "tip overs" but they started to take a small toll on my energy reserves.

The next most tiring thing while riding this kind of ride is being just barely on the edge of crashing, but using all your extraordinary skills and superhuman efforts to prevent the crash. I found myself in this position often. I was repeatedly in a state of semi-control where I basically was just along for the ride. For example, let's just say there was a large, slippery tree root blocking the narrow, muddy trail. (I know that this NEVER was the case but for argument's sake, let's just say this may have happened a few dozen times.) So the only option I saw was to gas it, hang on and see how it turned out. I feel like I was successful in surviving this scenario more often than not, but it was one of the most tiring things to have to do and it seemed like I had to do it repeatedly. At one point I was convinced that the course just looped back around to the same crappy tree roots over and over but it turned out to just be an evil trick my mind was playing on me.

Checkpoint 2 showed up and I had lost a bit more time. I don't have my times in front of me but I think I was at :58 so I was 11 minutes behind the pace. If this trend were to continue, I figured I would probably "hour-out" by Checkpoint 5 or 6. Since I only made it to Checkpoint 3 during the Sparkplug, I guess this would be a small victory in my mind. I was still a bit bummed though. I really felt like I was doing well enough to complete the course without "houring-out" but maybe it just wasn't meant to be.

One thing I forgot to mention was that I am pretty sure I was the only rider who didn't have a "Jart chart" This basically tells you what the pace is supposed to be between various mile markers and also shows you where "resets" are, etc... Since I didn't have a chart holder for my bike, I basically took the chart that they gave me and threw it in the back of the SUV. I figured I'd never even be close to keeping pace so the chart really meant nothing to me anyway. Maybe someday I'll actually need the chart? We'll see.

As my trip meter kept clicking away the distance, I was increasingly surprised by how I wasn't getting fatigued at a more rapid pace. Don't get me wrong, I was tired as hell, but considering that I seemed to plateau in terms of overall fatigue, I was starting to feel more confident about finishing the course. I may still "hour out" but I should be able to finish at least.

I don't remember at what point this next scene took place but I'm going to say it was somewhere after Checkpoint 3. I was chugging along at my typically slow pace when I come upon about 6 riders stopped in a traffic jam. My first thought was that someone must've lost an arm or something. I pulled up behind them all and over to one side. My second thought was that if there wasn't physical carnage, there must be one hell of an obstacle in the way and if the good riders are having trouble getting by it, there's no way I'll make it. I decided to shut off the bike, hike into the woods a bit, and take a leak. After the important stuff was taken care of, I walked back to where the log jam was and checked it out. It turns out that there was a massive tree root protruding across the trail and it was located such that you had to make a hard right turn just before it. The handful of riders that I watched tackle this obstacle were very brave. Every one had to dismount and basically man-handle the bike over said tree root. I was in no mood to partake in such an endeavor... really, I wasn't. So instead, I decided to help one of the current brave souls with getting his bike over. I grabbed ahold of the rear frame and gave a what little effort I had left to help him past this mess. And for my kind gesture, he kicked me in the face. This sounds more dramatic and painful then it was, but it's true. It was obviously an accident. He was just swinging his leg back over the saddle and my head was still in the way. That'll teach me. He apologized, and off he went. No harm, no foul as far as I'm concerned... I actually just thought it was kinda funny. What wasn't so funny though was the fact that I still had to get by this thing in one piece. As I walked back to my bike, I noticed one of the smarter riders took a slight detour around the beast and I thought that looked like a grand idea... so that's what I did. It turns out that the detour wasn't super easy either, but I still think it was better than the alternative of tackling the monster tree root. As I got back on the trail, I thought for sure that this long delay would ruin any chance I had at finishing the course without houring out.

Somewhere after the major delay, the trail opened up and next thing I know I'm doing 45 mph on a dirt road. This goes on for a bit and shortly after heading back into the tight trails, there's another checkpoint. It turns out that the open section really allowed me to make up a bunch of time. I even think I was back to the :58 minute mark so I was within 11 minutes of the prescribed pace. I realized later that if I had been one of the good riders and had been close to the correct times, that fast section could really bite you in the ass by getting to the checkpoint too early and losing even more points than if you were late. Fortunately for me, I was so late that going fast just allowed me to make up some lost time. Maybe I'll make it after all?

Halfway done (roughly) at the Fuel stop. Initially I wasn't even planning on bringing extra fuel. At the last minute I decided to throw a small can in the truck. Later, at the staging area, I really didn't plan on putting the small gas can in the little trailer that was to be used for the short course fuel stop, but at the last minute I decided to do it. My thinking was that my bike gets about 65 mpg and if the course is only 55 miles, no sweat. Even though I knew that this kind of riding burns more gas, I thought that it couldn't be that much more. Even so, I put the gas can in there anyway, just in case. I'm glad I did... At the stop I opened my tank and there was definitely less than half a tank left. I really didn't want to be stuck out in the woods with no fuel so I happily poured the fuel in to my tank and headed back out on the trail.

Here's a picture of me taken by one of the CFMC members during the 2008 Black Bear Enduro

At this point I'm going to skip past a few miles for the sake of time... just imagine a lot of slippery rocks and tree roots, mud, water and anything else you might imagine that you wouldn't want to see while riding a dirt bike.



Mile 42ish: Less than a minute after I leave Checkpoint 8, I just started to get a second wind and was feeling more and more confident about my ability to finish this ride and not hour out... when "Oh $*^!"...... I either wasn't paying attention or just misread the trail but I found myself topping a small crest that then had a descending right hand turn. If you failed to make the turn, you would find yourself running head-on into a large tree. This is essentially what happened to me. I knew immediately that there was no way I was going to avoid hitting the tree and I also knew for sure that this one was going to hurt, a lot. I hit it hard and found myself airborne and then tumbling down the trail. I was able to get up fairly quickly and about the only pain I felt was that my left wrist was throbbing a bit. I figured it was probably a sprain and if it didn't get worse in the next couple minutes, I should be ok. I made my way up to my bike and I could hear riders approaching. I was concerned that they wouldn't see me or my bike that was laying halfway on the trail because of the blind corner. I got up to the bike and was able to wave my arms to warn the upcoming rider and he stopped. He didn't ask if I needed help but he did say 'sorry' as he rode by. I really wasn't sure if I needed help or not yet but it seemed to be something I could handle without assistance. Then I saw my bike. I drug it back onto the trail and then rolled it off to one side to assess the damage. The first thing I noticed was that both of my Zeta handguards were pointed nearly straight up. After closer inspection, it became apparent that the handlebars actually rotated inside the clamps about 60 degrees. Maybe that's why my wrists were now so sore? It seemed to be nearly impossible to operate the clutch or the brake lever. I attempted to rotate the bars back to the original position but the combination of sore wrists, general fatigue and the factory tightened bar clamps, I was unable to budge the bars at all. This is where the wrenches I talked about earlier come into play. I removed my helmet, gloves and backpack. I dug out the 10mm and got to work. Before too long I had the bars back to a usable condition and the Zeta handguards were back to the guarding position. I did a quick overall check of the rest of the bike and it appeared to not be in too bad of shape. The forks seemed straight and the fender was still in one piece. I thought I'd see if it still ran and amazingly enough, it fired up right away. I got all my wet crap back on and got back on the horse.



After that crash, I definitely felt a bit more tentative. I wasn't as concerned about the pain of an injury as I was about missing work. With the upcoming layoffs at my airline, I really need to work while I can until I can find another job. So I was taking it a bit easier at this point. One thing about this though is that I find if you ride scared, I think you're actually more apt to crash again. You have to have a certain amount of an aggressive attitude toward certain obstacles to successfully traverse them. If you try to "pansy" your way over them, you're just going to crash again. It's a fine line.



As the minutes zipped by my confidence was returning. I had no idea where I stood as far as the pace but I was pretty sure I was more than an hour late to the next checkpoint. At least I knew I could finish the course though.



Somewhere near the end of the ride there was probably the most dangerous section of the entire course. It was not even really a trail. It was a very steep descent through a bunch of trees but it was very soft ground and no place to really stop if you needed to. If you were to lose control you'd defintely be careening headlong down the 30% grade until you smashed into tree. The difficulty of the section wasn't too terribly bad but since it was getting toward the end of the ride, the fatigue factor played a huge part in whether or not one would make it or not. I actually found that if I shut the motor off and just let the compression act as a brake, it worked better and I was able to reach the bottom without dying. Crisis averted.



A few more miles go by and eventually I get to another checkpoint, the guy tells me that it's the last one and to just take it easy and follow the arrows back to the staging area. I don't recall the time that was written down but I do believe that is was less than an hour late. I couldn't believe it, I actually finished the course without "houring out". It wasn't pretty but with two major delays, including a fairly big crash, I was surprised to have actually done it. This was a big accomplishment for me personally and no matter what the times were, I was happy to have just survived the ordeal in one piece.



After getting to the "end", I still had a few miles to go just to make it back to the truck. I followed the trail with a sense of satisfaction and I just putt-putted along at a slow pace. I was a little dismayed, however, at the difficulty of some of the trail that was left. While it wasn't any more difficult then any of the stuff I'd just been through, I was mentally "done" with it all. I just wanted it to be over and I wondered why they didn't just pave a nice freeway back to the staging area?



I finally made it back to the parking area and as I got there, there was a final "checkpoint" where they took your time card and said "congrats". As the guy removed my card he noticed that it said "Sportsman" and he indicated to me that this was the hardest class, NOT the easiest like I had requested. He said that I should've been in one of the "C" classes and I asked that if it could be changed. He said "no"... so I left. I wasn't really upset because I was still pretty satisfied about just finishing and I really didn't have any delusions about finishing high in the daily rankings. I still don't have my final times/scores but just finishing was my goal so I'm happy.

(Update: I got some clarification on the classes and the sportsman class is actually NEITHER the hardest, or the easiest. It's just a recreational class where any level rider can enter and just ride it for fun. There were 9 riders in the sportsman class this race and it appears from the scores posted that 2 of them were excellent riders and the rest were closer to my skill level.)



I got back to the SUV & trailer, I took off all the soaking wet gear and put on some dry clothes. I ate a sandwich, drank a Rockstar coffee drink and generally just plopped down in the back of the SUV. I eventually mustered up enough energy to load the bike on the trailer and get everthing else loaded up in the car and headed toward home. I remembered to grab my small, half empty gas can from the staging area and got on the road.



On my way home I called my wife to give her a quick run-down of my day and to make sure that there was plenty of hot water available for a long soak...



(As I type this, it's now been 4 days since the event. I was very sore all over until this morning. My muscles seem to have mostly recovered but I've now got a constant sharp pain in one of my wrists. I am getting xrays later today so maybe I'll find out what it's all about.)

Update: Just got back from the doctor's office and after performing the well known "Finklestein's test", the doctor determined that I have not broken any bones in my wrist but instead have what is called "de Quervain's disease". Basically it's a fancy way of saying that one of the tendons in my wrist is strained and needs to rest for a few days and should be fine. This is good news as far as I'm concerned.

I hope you all enjoyed this ride report.

Another update... The CFMC just posted the results for the event. I finished 4th out of 9 riders in my class. I had 176 points which isn't very good, but I didn't get a DNF so I'm happy!

Back to where it all started.

With all the negative things happening in the airline world recently and my impending lay-off from United Airlines, I've been fairly obsessed with finding a new job/career. This new obsession has prevented me from getting much riding done and due to the lack of flying jobs, it hasn't been very conducive to a positive outlook on my life. So a couple days ago I just made up my mind that I needed to go out and just ride for a bit to clear my mind of all the negativity.

I had to haul a few things out to my friend Tony's house in Enumclaw so I hitched up the motorcycle trailer to my old pickup and off I went. After dropping off the items at Tony's, I unloaded the WR and headed off toward my old stomping grounds.

Rewind

My family moved to Enumclaw when I was in the 2nd grade. My dad had purchased a 1974 Honda XR75 about that same time and as a young boy, I thought that it was too big for me to ride. I tried it but after crashing it once, I was afraid of it, so it sat buried in our basement for quite some time.

I don't remember how old I was but sometime in the next few years, I was inspired by our neighbor, Jerry, who was (is) the coolest guy I ever met. Jerry had an old Honda 100 and rode it around our neighborhood, (we lived on a dirt road). I distinctly remember that as I watched him ride past our house one day that I thought that I should be riding a motorcycle... and then I remembered that in fact we already had a motorcycle.

I proceeded to uncover the old XR from the piles of crap in the basement, (a feat in of itself), and eventually got it out in the driveway. I'd like to say that it fired right up on the first kick but I honestly don't remember. I do remember that once I got it running, (probably with help from Dad), that I started out VERY slowly. I remember that I would ride up and down the dirt road in front of our house in FIRST GEAR. I was afraid of going faster. This lasted for at least a day or two. I finally got the balls to actually shift into SECOND GEAR and I was progressively getting bolder and bolder. I don't know how long it took but I eventually was able to actually use ALL the gears and at some point in the following months I actually was wanting a bike that would go faster than the XR was capable of. My brother started riding as well and we would take turns on the little gray bike until Dad decided that we needed another one. We went and bought a brand new 1979 XR80... it was red... and it was cool. It also had a 5th gear which was one more than the old 75 had. Dale and I rode these bikes every chance we got and spent many an hour in the trails and dirt roads in the hills near our house.

Fast forward nearly 30 years (holy crap!!!, am I really that old???)... I turned on to the old neighborhood road (it's still dirt) and as I left the pavement I remembered the time I was spinning a doughnut in the gravel when the neighbor, Gary, drove up on his way home from work and he scolded me for tearing up the road that he had just fixed. I also remembered all the dips and mudpuddles from those many years ago, even though they had changed a thousand times over, I could see them in my mind. Actually, aside from a few trees that were missing, the old neighborhood hadn't changed all that much.

I rode slowly up and down the entire length of the old dirt road and just took my mind back to a time where jobs and stresses of adult life were non-existent. I was 9 years old again, even if it was only for a few minutes, and just living each moment to ride my motorcycle.

Here's what our old house looks like today.

It was a nice diversion and it did take my mind off of the negative stuff that is going on in my life. I'm glad I made the journey and hopefully I won't wait until another 30 years go by before I swing by again.