It was my first hangover... scrambles that is. My dad had raced it before and told me that the race was gnarly. He said " you may think you're in good shape but once you get 5 minutes into the race and your 240 pound bike has 50 more pounds of mud on it, you are going to realize that all that running you do won't help much." Of course he was just trying to make me think twice about it. You see, my dad and I are very competitive. We enjoy talking smack to each other and talking the other down, but as the saying goes "When the gate drops the trash-talk stops."
Being the events coordinator for Team CPR (our church off-road group), I mentioned the race to the guys and they liked the idea. The group had now grown to 6 of us. With the news that my dad and I were racing each other again, (we raced against each other at a race last year. I beat him but he says that I only won because he crashed. "We'll see about that on New Years," I told him.) People started asking the ever popular questions, "Who's gonna win this time?" or, "Who's going to get hurt now?" With one week left to the race and a larger racing team the trash talk grew to an all time high.
My family planned to head down to the track after church on Sunday afternoon. We finally had the bikes prepped and the motor home packed by 3 pm Sunday afternoon. We then said a prayer for a safe drive and headed south. We stopped in Longview for lunch at a popular little Mexican fast-food restaurant. Note to self: Don't eat Mexican the day before a race; it makes for an unhappy stomach. At about 6:30 we finally arrived at Washougal MX Park and hooked our motor home up to the electricity. Once we were all set up my mom and I took a little walk around to get a feel for the terrain. The weather was great but it was too darn cold. The ground was already starting to "ice-up." "Man this is going to be fun...we're racing on ice and I didn't put studs on my tires. I'm going to get a crummy start." The rest of the night we spent playing games, eating, and watching movies. I finally got to bed at 1:30 AM. During the night I woke up at least 5 times. Great, my nerves were already getting the best of me. The riders meeting was at 8 AM so I had to wake up at 6:30 in order to have sufficient time to have breakfast and warm up my bike.
My dad and I were head to head up to the last corner of the race then I cut in front of him and jumped over the finish line jump just a bike length ahead of him. Ring ring riiiiiiing. "Oh man that was just a dream. I hope that was prophetic as to what is going to happen today," I thought to myself as I got my gear on. As I stepped outside I was greeted by a chilling wind. I then proceeded to pull my bike out of the trailer and warm it up. It took me about 5 minutes to get my bike started and it only took my dad two kicks. He told me I needed to get a KTM like him because his starts so much easier than my Yamaha. Once I got the bike to start, I went and had some breakfast. My stomach felt as if a boy scout was practicing slip knots with it. So I only managed to eat half a bowl before I couldn't stomach anymore.
At the riders meeting we were told the usual. You know, go out there and have a good time and no dirty racing. Once they dismissed us, we went to grab our bikes and go to the starting line. All of us got our bikes started except my dad. It turns out he fouled his plug and he didn't have an extra one. Before I left for the starting line I yelled to him: "Hey maybe you should get a Yamaha, they start easier. Ha-ha."
At the starting line there were about 120 riders. They put us into our respective classes, which were Open amateur and 125 amateur. My friends and I had decided to race the open class so we could race each other. Our class was going to be the first class off the line. They hole-punched our punch card and then told us to kill our engines. "That's just great, a dead engine start. That just means I have to ride even harder to get up front" I thought. You see I have a 1999 YZ 400f and they are pigs to start even if they are warmed up.
The green flag went up and I pulled my kick starter out and squeezed my decompression Lever in one fluid motion. As soon as the flag dropped I kicked my bike and needless to say it didn't start. Three kicks later my bike roared to life and I was on my way. By the second corner I was mid-pack and doing pretty good. After the second corner the course dropped down a hill and turned left onto a good 2 mile section of grass track. I passed quite a few downed racers on the down hill but as soon as I hit the first corner of the grass track I slid out. Everyone I had just passed now passed me back.
Fortunately for me my bike was still running so I picked it up and took off. After that first crash I took the grass track a little more cautiously but I was still keeping up a good enough pace to pass back the other racers. The grass track came to an end shortly and the course went through some woods to an extremely muddy uphill. By this time I had passed all my friends and was on the verge of passing this guy on a CRF 450 going up the hill. I went to get around him and he took my line, that I was already committed to, and then he stalled. I pulled in the clutch and grabbed my binders. I started to slide backwards so I hit the throttle and went sideways. This action caused me to lose my balance so I stuck my left leg out to stop myself from falling. Bad idea - I dislocated my knee a few years ago and it hasn't healed completely. I have dislocated it about 25-30 times the past couple years. Anyways, you guessed it, I dislocated my knee again. I hobbled the bike and I to the bottom of the hill, figuring that it would be easier to start on flat ground.
In the process of starting my bike, all my friends passed me again. I got the bike started and roosted it all the way to the top of the hill. I quickly caught and passed my friend who was riding an YZ 125. The rest of the course consisted of extremely slick trails and the motocross track. I stalled the bike, wrecked it, and bounced it off trees the rest of the race. On the track and grass-track I got to really open it up, ride faster, and close the gap between the leaders. Even though I hurt my knee the adrenaline was enough for me to keep limping along and finish the race.
Lincoln Hollis in action....
Lincoln Hollis in action.
On the last lap I rode my fastest. I caught and passed my friend on the 125 who I had been battling with the whole race. Around the last corner I stalled it and couldn't get my bike started which stunk because that meant I lost my position in the last corner. I finally got my bike started and it began to overheat and boil coolant from the radiator. The club that was hosting the race took my punch card and then I quickly rode back to the pits.
I hopped off my bike and just about collapsed due to the pain in my knee. I had just enough adrenaline left to put my bike on the stand. My dad came riding into the pit about 5 minutes after me. Apparently he had found a guy with an old spark plug that fit in his bike. He finally got his bike started and went down to the starting line. By the time he arrived the last wave of riders had been gone for three minutes. That put him a total of 5 minutes behind our class. Since he was late they didn't give him a starting punch, but they let him race. By the end of the race he was only about 3 minutes behind our group of riders.
About an hour later the club had posted results. Unfortunately some of the results were mixed up because the order we finished in, was reversed and my dad got a better position than us. Even with my injury the race was awesome and we all plan on attending it next year. Congratulations to the Jones creek trail riders who put on this race. You guys did awesome.