Chuck Vincent Racing

Photos and Videos from Saturday.

The story of Saturday had to be told to understand my state of mind Sunday morning when we woke to a cold, cold wet mess.  Miserably cold is an understatement, and overcast, windy and intermittent sprinkles just put everyone in a bad mood.

Getting ready to race I was still sore and stiff from the previous days ride, but we came to race, and race we shall.  After my bad start last week, I decided to employ a starting block.  Mine is a old 6×6 that has been used for years as a trailer wheel chock, and under the trail jack for added distance.  Today it served as my leverage to get my KTM fired when the starter pulled the trigger on his shotgun.  It worked perfectly as I was inside on the first turn in a drag race to the first jump with the holeshot winner.

An unexpected mud hole developed right in front of the first double that no one knew about, it was dry 10 minutes ago, either the track’s watering system malfunctioned, or someone is just not nice.  The mud made the double impossible to approach at speed, so everyone slowed down.  I saw one bike in front of me and one to my right as we climbed up jump following the opening double.  As I was leaving the ground on this small tabletop-ish jump into a sharp corner, I was suddenly accelerated toward the ground, via a trip over the handlebars.

Someone must have bumped someone, or was cross rutted on the face of this jump and I was hammered on my right side by a big blur.  The impact of the other bike’s handlebars to my right forearm was the case of my trip over the bars, and a nasty sore the length of my elbow to wrist.  Hitting the ground head first was the start opening act, I then processed to tumble down the side of the hill this jump was cut into.  I stop moving and got up, my entire right side was killing me, but I climbed up the hill to pick up my bike, sans both hand guard flags which were shattered into pieces.

The course marshals helped me push the bike off the hill as the next wave of riders were on their way to the first turn, it was at this point I had to make a tough decision.  As both my right arm and knew were in pain, I had to pull the plug on the idea of getting back on the track with a huge time deficit to make up.

I have to hang my hat on the fact we did a lot of riding Saturday and I believe it truly helped my moto ability which will translate to other off road events like this one that incorporate a motocross track into the course.  And the starting block is here to stay.

Photos from Sunday.

I just got done telling by brother-in-law, who attended his first hare scrambles ever (as a spectator); the first race of the year is always harder.  Lots of new people in your class, lots of one-race-a-year woods worriers to get in the way, even the expanded pre-season training I have been trying to keep on did not fully prepare my body for the punishment that is Monticello.

First race without an easy button turned out to bite me in the end at the very start, three kicks is always two kicks to many, and being at the tail end of 40+ riders into a 5 foot left hand turn in black out dust conditions is always an adrenaline pumping experience, not the way to start a 2 hour event.  I caught a break and saw a fellow racer in the dust and just followed Trevor though the cloud, and once out of the confusion, put the hammer down on the fresh 300 engine and picket up 5 spots before the funnel into the woods.

First lap went great, I was really happy with the speed I was carrying, and kept passing bikes the entire 9 miles.  And wow, am I a supporter of the mile markers every ½ mile.  Not only are they helpful for layout and sweep riders, but as a racer, I was able to remember more of the track, where good lines were hidden, and when I can wick- it-up and still not get in trouble as fatigue set in.

Second lap was all about oscillating between pushing the edge to make up time, and maintaining energy because doing the upside down math from my fender card, this thing could go 4 laps.  Where I usually stop for a splash of fuel and a cold drink at the conclusion of lap two, I was in a zone from mile marker 8 on in.  I figured I would take a gamble that I would lose a little speed on lap three and the fourth would not come to fruition.  Using all this logic, I know a lot to think about then dodging trees pined in third gear; I sped past my awaiting pit crew.  After the pit area, on the long dusty field where I easily found the throttle stop in top gear, is where I first noticed my rear brake was fading completely out if I braked long into a sandy berm.

Going thought he scoring, the nice woman told me 45 minutes lest on the race clock.  Ok, more quick math, last lap was 38 min, this could still go 4 laps, maybe passing up fuel will cost me?  I the third lap I had to yield to a few faster riders, I hope they were fast vet riders starting behind me and not others in my class, but fair is fair, I was not going as fast and it was rude to slow them down.  I was also not running out of steam, bumping into trees, looking behind me way more than anyone should.  Smelling burning transmission fluid, I was briefly worried about clutch failure, but nothing could be accomplished by worrying, I did make sure not to lug higher gears for a few miles to better my odds of finishing the race.   Getting tired and riding more the pipe in third gear let to more brake dragging and a few places I felt the pedal bottom out.  This was weighed on my mind, without any water crossings, the one saving grace of really hot brake calipers; I was slowing down more than I wanted to.

Again at the 8 mile maker it my energy spiked for the last mile and blasted though the field section and approached my pit crew with gas can in hand.  Slowing down, I heard exactly what I wanted to hear, “If you can make it to the tent, it’s over!”  This distance, about ¾ of a mile of sandy, dusty wide open field separated the pit area from the finish line (scoring tent).  This caused a few people to stop for fuel when they were 2 min from the end of the event.  Having Debo in the pit was life saver, he knew what I was thinking and I rounded the turn to head out to the filed section.  100 feet past the pit, bike dies.  Wow, I can only laugh as I quickly hit the reserve setting on the petcock and start kicking.  Ugg, that was a long 15 seconds, bike fires to life and with a few other riders coming in behind me, I just want to stave off losing any positions this close to the end.  I was able to use the power of the KTM 300 to keep those riders behind me until I was safely into the no-passing zone leading up to the tent.  Last lap was clocked in at 38 minutes, not sure how I missed the fourth lap but I was quietly relieved I did not have to push for another 9 miles.

All said and done, I was happy with the day.  I was feeling under the weather all morning and was worried I would lose my drive early on and just end up trail riding the event, but was able to push all three laps and I was rewarded with a solid 5^th place finish.  I will take the points and roll the momentum into next week when we visit Arkansaw MX Park for round 2.

Visit my Posterous Blog for all the photos from Monticello including Debo, Zambon, Trevor and Kelly “two eyes” Vincent!

District 23 & District 16 indoor racing at The Sandbox Arena.