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.

Sparkplug 2008!

I meant to post this a while ago but I've only recently been able to recall the ride without curling up on the floor in the fetal position and crying.


If you've read my earlier posts you may remember me saying I was interested in competing in Enduros. My reasoning for this interest is due to the concept of racing against time and not directly against other riders, handlebar to handlebar as it were. I (mistakenly) thought that this type of competition would be more mentally challenging and less physically challenging compared to something like motocross. I still believe that it is more of a "mental game" than other racing but to say it isn't that physical is just not true.


I got my bike roughly one month ago and I've been able to ride it on some trails once since I brought it home. I looked at the NW Motorcycle Association's website on the events schedule for the Washington rides and noticed there was an Enduro scheduled for April 6th and it was going to be held at the Tahuya State Forest, not too far from my home. I decided that this would be a great opportunity to ride my bike at an organized competition and get a chance to see how the WR would do on some singletrack.


Having grown up in Enumclaw and living on a dirt road, my brother Dale & I used to ride our Honda XRs almost every day after school and on the weekends up in the foothills near our house. When you ride as much as we did, you can't help but develop a reasonable skill level of riding. We mainly rode trails through the woods and clearcuts. I fully understand that this was many years ago but when you learn something as a kid you usually have that skillset for your entire life.

I went into this Enduro with relatively low expectations. My main goals were:


1: Don't get injured

2: Have fun

3: Try to complete the course

4: Try not to "hour out"


I showed up to the staging area and parked across the street from the main parking because there was no room anywhere else. I backed the truck up to a mound of dirt that allowed me to basically ride the bike out of the truck on a level plane, (this comes in handy later). I unloaded the WR and rode it to the registration area. I paid my $45 and got a few questions answered like where the start area was, etc... I hung around for the riders' meeting and signed the release form saying that it's my own fault if I smash my melon. After the meeting I went and had my bike tested for excessive exhaust noise. Being that my bike is completely stock, it basically whispered it's way through the sound test.


They had started @ 9:00am with the first group of riders and I wasn't scheduled to start until 9:54am so I had a little time to kill. (They launch 3 riders per minute and I was in the second to last group). I went back to the truck and struck up a conversation with a couple guys on KTMs. I'm not sure I remember their names correctly but I believe it was Kevin & Rod. (Rob maybe?). Anyway, they had a few good tips and stories about what the ride was like. For some reason, I hadn't realized that the "short course" (the one I was riding) was 55 miles long and when Kevin told me that I thought to myself, "so much for getting done by 2pm".


Kevin and Rod/Rob were starting the minute before me so they told me that since they were keeping time and following the roll chart that I shouldn't pass them in order to not "burn" a checkpoint. (getting there too early). I kinda laughed and said, "that won't be a problem". (In fact, after they started @ 9:53, I never saw them again.)


As I waited for the starter to launch us, I thought it was weird that I wasn't more nervous than I was. I also thought it was strange that they require us to start with a dead engine. It's an endurance race that lasts many hours and the 2-5 seconds it takes to start the bike really means nothing in the whole scheme of things. Maybe it's just tradition?


9:54... The starter says "go". So I pushed the little button and let out the clutch and off I went. I waited for the other two riders to leave before me so I didn't slow them down. The trail started off easy and after a couple minutes I was getting the feel of the bike. I wasn't in too much of a hurry as I just wanted to ride safely and not really care about the times. It wasn't too far down the trail and I started hearing the riders behind me catching up. The next wide spot in the trail I pulled over and let them by. Since I started in the second to last group, there weren't any more riders to come up behind me. I was happy about this fact because I really didn't want someone on my ass all day. I knew that I was going to be slow and I was pretty sure I was going to crash a few times so I was glad I didn't have to feel like I was slowing down other riders who were serious about making good times.

Mile 2: Crash! My front tire slides out in a muddy turn and down I go. The bike runs for a few seconds then stops. I get off the ground and lift the bike back up. I thought, "ok, first crash is over and it didn't hurt too bad, now I don't have to worry about the crashing". I pushed the starter button and the bike just cranked and cranked. No putt putt sounds. What The Hell??? The bike is brand new and has 26 total miles on it and the first crash causes it to not run anymore??? POS! At this point I was already thankful (even more thankful later) that I had an electric starter. If I had been kicking this 4 stroke all day... I'd have had 4 strokes of my own. I turned the key off and tried to think of a reason why it wouldn't start. I was very glad there wasn't anyone behind me because there was absolutely no room for anyone to go around me as I sat there befuddled. I decided to "cranky cranky" some more so I turned the key back on. I heard a high pitched motor running... ...a light bulb fizzled and sparked and finally lit inside my brain. I had been so stoked about buying a Fuel Injected bike to eliminate having to re-jet the carb and all that but it didn't dawn on me until just that moment that the fuel pump needed to recharge the system after dumping the bike. It fired immediately upon hitting the starter. First lesson learned.


Back on the trail again and things were going well for a half-hour or so until I came to a semi-steep hill. I got a good run at it but the ground was loose and I really couldn't get much momentum going. I got nearly to the top and a big 'ol tree root reared its ugly head. I gunned it to see if I could get more speed but it actually lost traction a little bit and the root proved to be too tall for me to clear at that speed. I was stuck just before the top of the hill. I tried to walk the bike while spinning the rear tire but I just couldn't get it moving. The only option at this point was to back down the hill (hopefully without careening out of control off the edge) and give it another try. Somehow I managed to accomplish the backward descent without any problems. The next attempt up the hill went a little better as I basically just "gave 'er the onion" and I was able to bounce and hop my way over the tree root with a modicum of control. This particular scene was ultimately replayed multiple times throughout the day. I lost count of the tree root encounters and nearly every time I cleared one, I was on the edge of losing grip or flying off the edge of the trail. The bike was very capable of clearing each obstacle, I was just not fit enough to handle the constant jerking and lurching and after a while I became so fatigued that getting over these "roadblocks" became a daunting task that would've probably been very comical to watch from the gallery. Fortunately for me there was no gallery to point and laugh.

1st Checkpoint: I stopped at the first checkpoint and found out I was 9 minutes behind the pace. I thought to myself, hey only 9 minutes, not too bad. The stop lasted only a few seconds and then I was off again. I don't know what I was expecting but the checkpoint was a little anti-climactic. Maybe if there was an espresso stand and a hot-tub available at each checkpoint it might be more exciting?

More riding, more tree roots, more mud. I actually was enjoying it all, except for maybe the tree roots. I crashed a few times, nothing too serious. I had a few struggles with getting past the roots and that ate up a bunch of time. I found myself narrowly avoiding a couple potential big crashes and I decided this wasn't worth bustin' my ass over so I started a quiet mantra... "slower is faster" over and over in my head. My theory was that if I went slower, I'd crash less, if I crashed less, I'd actually make it through the course faster overall. While I still think that thought process has some merit, it turns out that slower was, in fact, just slower.

Checkpoint 2: 26 minutes off the pace. OK, I lost another 17 minutes but I should be able to not lose too much more if the trail isn't as rough as the first part. HA!

More mud, more trees, and yes, more tree roots. I was extremely tired at this point and I had resigned myself to the fact that I wasn't going to catch up to the pace. In fact, I was going into survival mode. All I wanted to do was get through this without crashing hard. I had visions of missing one of the countless slippery, muddy, hairpin corners and flying off into the wilderness where I'd be lying in a crumpled pile hoping that the sweep riders would find me before nightfall, or before I bled to death, preferably both.

Checkpoint 3: The guy tells me I'm 6 minutes from "houring out" and I am not surprised.

More stumps, more mud, more water holes... oh yeah, tree roots too.

I am now riding with rubber legs and arms. I'm thirsty and hungry. (Kevin had asked me earlier if I had any water to take with me... now I know why.) I probably should have eaten a better breakfast as well. I had a bowl of cereal at around 6:30am and it was now after noon. Not too smart on my part. Another lesson learned.

I am surprised when I come to a small clearing and I see a rider on a DRZ250 stopped there. My first thought was that it might be a rescue rider who's looking for the idiot who's stumbling through the short course at mind-numbingly slow speeds and extricate him from the woods. It turns out it was a girl who was just taking a breather. I decided it would be a great time for me to take a little rest as well. Any excuse would've been good enough for me. We talked briefly and then we decided to get going. She asked if I wanted to go first and I said 'no, you can go ahead'. I was thinking, this will be a good distraction for me... I can just follow her and watch her go over the obstacles before I have to. After about 30 seconds on the trail... she was gone. She was kicking my ass and I was now even more humiliated then I might've already been. 20 minutes later I saw her again. She had crashed on a blind corner and I nearly ran into her but was heroically able to avoid it by crashing myself. It was the least I could do. She struggled to get her bike running and we talked a little while she periodically cranked the starter. She said it was only 6 miles to the fuel stop. FUEL STOP??? I didn't realize there even was a fuel stop. I was alternately pleased and dismayed. Because I had somehow jacked-up my computer / trip-meter somewhere around mile 15, I actually had no idea how far I had gone. I was under the impression that I had traveled at least 200 miles by now and I should be getting close to the end, not just HALFWAY! (Nevermind that I've only been through 3 checkpoints.) I had decided then and there that I'd just get to the fuel stop, which was basically where we started, and just call it a day. She got her Zuki started and again was off with a splash of mud. I rode along and tried not to think about the 5 or 6 miles to go. I just kept riding. I saw her again at the 4th checkpoint, where we had both more than "houred out", and she took off just as I was getting there. I asked the dude at the stop if there was a short cut to the fuel stop and he actually said 'yes'. He said to ride 100 yards on the trail and I'd come to a dirt road that would lead me to a paved road. The paved road would lead me to the parking area. (As my late Grandfather would say "all roads lead home"). I decided that to continue on the trail was just tempting fate. I was so exhausted that it would be increasingly dangerous for me to stay on the course so I opted for the easy way out. I know that's the chicken sh*t way out but considering my state of mind, I didn't care.

I made it to where my truck was parked and I had mixed feelings. I was relieved to be done for the day but I was a little disappointed in myself for not being better prepared and at least completing the course. I parked the WR behind the truck and I smiled internally, (because smiling externally would've required too much energy), that I had parked the truck level with the mound of dirt so I didn't have to push or ride the bike up a ramp. Honestly I probably would've had to ask for help because I was way too wiped out to do it alone. Maybe I could have waited for that girl to finish and ask her to help load it? Man, would that have sucked! As I sat in the cab of the truck taking off my wet gear, I noticed a few riders periodically riding past the area where I was parked. I initially thought that there were a bunch of recreational riders out on a sunday but in a couple minutes I realized that these were riders who were actually finishing the entire course. Other than being covered in mud, they all looked like they had just pulled the bikes off the trailer. Zipping around the corner, riding wheelies (ok, slight exaggeration) and just looking like they'd barely broken a sweat. I came to the realization that maybe this just wasn't for me. If I can't even make it halfway without nearly collapsing from exhaustion and everyone else just cruised through like we were on Interstate 5, I may need to just stick to the kiddy trails.

After loading up and getting dry clothes on, I drove toward home. I stopped to get some food and fluids but basically I just needed a hot bath and a nap.

As I drove home I thought about the ride. I actually started feeling better about the whole thing since I really hadn't been riding for 15+ years. I was riding a dual sport bike that was completely stock and relatively heavy for a small guy like me. I think under the circumstances it didn't turn out too bad. I met 2 of my 4 goals by not getting injured (seriously) and by having fun. I really did enjoy the majority of the ride, it was challenging but fun.

I am looking forward to trying a few other rides this summer. Who knows, I may even try the Sparkplug again next year?

Lessons learned:
1. Fuel pump thing after crashing.
2. Hydration & nutrition... must have it!
3. Be fit... or at least more so than I was.
4. Ride a few easier rides first!
5. Wear better protective boots.
6. Learn to love tree roots!