The Big Nasty – Dirt Rider Magazine

FeatureSomewhere between sending in my entry for an event called “The Big Nasty” and launching a clapped-out Honda CR500 in second gear at full throttle, the thought occurred to me — “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, after all.”

The idea to enter The Big Nasty Hillclimb, one of six events in the 2005 North American Hillclimb Association (NAHA) Series, struck me after watching some old footage of the infamous Widowmaker Hillclimb during downtime at the neighbor’s barbecue. Maybe it was the questionable potato salad or one too many beers, but my friends and I brazenly shouted “shoot, how hard can it be to climb a hill” before high-fiving each other and rewinding the tape for one more adrenaline rush. Hmmm. How hard can it be to climb a hill. Those words would come back to haunt me worse than the potato salad.

Held about an hour outside Boise, Idaho, the BNH has two different hills: a near-500 foot pro hill with a 20-foot cliff near the top, and a 250-foot hill for kids and other exhibition classes. The pro hill attracts the likes of perennial hillclimb champ Dusty Beers and other national riders to become the first ever to summit the monster (it also doesn’t hurt to have a $15,000 purse) while the smaller hill lured amateurs and delusional local rednecks for their 15 seconds of fame. While not a redneck, I was a bit delusional and a perennial dreamer. Walter Mitty in a Moose jersey, if you will. Beside, 250 feet wasn’t that far. I’ve jumped further than that on my sister’s KDX200. Yes I have. I think.Seeing as how I didn’t own a bike with an extended swingarm, nitro-burning road bike engine and kill switch tether cord I had to find a suitable projectile for BNH. A quick scan of the Sunday paper found the perfect ride: a 1992 CR500 with pink plastic and an aftermarket blue seatcover with a grippy yellow top surface. I snagged Pinky for $1200 specifically to take me to the top of Big Nasty’s sandy, rutted, sagebrush-infested 250-foot trophy hill. Leaking left fork seal and bent front brake lever aside the Honda’s infamous 18 horsepower midrange burst (all within 1500 rpm, thank you very much) was going to be my one-way ticket to hillclimb glory in front of fans, family and naysayers. “Right on, that’s what I need,” I told the seller. I could have sworn I heard him laugh as I pulled out of the driveway with the bike.I also could have swore I heard my friends and fellow competitors laugh as I pulled into the hillclimb’s parking lot and unloaded the old beast. Obviously they either forgot or didn’t know what a big bore 500cc monster could do if successfully pointed in the right direction. Think your 450 has SNAP? Please. Nothing compares to half a liter of violent fury in an undersuspended vehicle such as this. In the age of four strokes and advancing technology the likes of a CR500 is admittedly a dinosaur, but before being discontinued a few years back big bore two strokes ruled the land, chewing up dirt and spitting out lesser riders at an alarming rate. I remember my father and his friends climbing hills for miles at a near vertical pitch in 5th gear. Maybe that’s an embellished memory from a then 9 year old kid, but 500 two strokes are baaad news. And maybe that news flash is why the big bikes went the way of the T-Rex, but I dare you to show me a better mount for a hillclimb. Beside, I didn’t purchase “Number 9″ for its looks, nostalgia or super duper titanium valve whatchmacallit. Number 9 and its hand-numbing vibration was here to win.After the slew of minis flipped and cartwheeled down the lower portion of the hill it was time for the big boys. Pinky and I were 5th in line, the perfect spot for a run to the top. The hill would be broken in, but not too chewed up. Number 9 idled quietly, it’s deep lumping vibration a signal that it was ready and willing if I was. A quick blip of the throttle was my signal back to the big Honda that it was showtime. The course marshall motioned me forward and pointed to where he wanted my front wheel to be. Making sure everything was pointed in the right direction (Tip #1 for a successful hillclimb) I clicked the mighty 500 into second gear, and put my chin down close to the crossbar. Grabbing a handful of throttle the aforementioned thought of “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, after all” reared its ugly head, but now wasn’t the time to back out. I had to prove everyone wrong not just for my ego, but for Pinky’s, too. The bike shrieked like nothing I’ve ever heard when I dropped my right elbow and dumped the clutch. Maybe it was the loose side panel bolts rattling off into the ground or the expansion chamber’s crack growing like the San Andreas fault, but Pinky sounded angry and rewarded me with a neck snapping launch that I am telling everyone in bench racing stories was exactly like something Dusty Beers would experience.Fifty, seventy-five, one hundred feet. The CR500 was in third gear and passing by the white banners indicating how far up the hill I was at an alarming rate. One-fifty, one-seventy five…. While things were getting steep and deep, the bike’s thick and wide 18-inch tire dug in for more traction. This was too good to be true. Or was it. At exactly the 200 foot mark the bike’s front wheel shot skyward, and tried spitting me to the right. It happened so fast I didn’t have time to reach for the clutch, move forward or to the left. I couldn’t and didn’t do nothing.To this day I still don’t know what happened. Maybe I hit a rock or overstayed my welcome in third. Nevertheless my Big Nasty experience was coming to a halt. But if I thought things were bad now….Remember that leaking left fork seal and bent front brake lever? On what had to be the steepest section of hill I started sliding backwards, and grabbed a handful of front brake. Nothing. A frantic re-pump of the lever got me nothing. “Not good, not good,” I shouted as Pinky gave in to the laws of gravity. It seems that the leaking seal had applied one too many coats of oil to the bike’s rotor thus rendering it completely useless. Backwards I went down the hill just like one of the mini bikes. Have you ever cartwheeled backwards for 200 feet in front of friends, family and strangers?The pictures don’t show the aftermath. Maybe the photographer was in shock; there is evidence of the CR500 behaving badly and stopping, my feeble attempts to prevent the inevitable captured in full color. And none of my friends captured it on tape. I was told the video cameras were put down so their view of the “accident” (that’s what everyone calls it now) wouldn’t be blocked. Even though 200 feet up the hill took maybe 15 seconds coming back down off the bike seemed like an eternity.I awoke within feet of where I took off. The course marshal and all my friends were looking down at me and Pinky. The Honda didn’t look too good, and I wasn’t much better.

“You have one more try at the hill,” someone said. “Get up.”I did get up that fateful day, but officially retired from hillclimbing on the spot. Pinky is back in the paper, looking for a new home. I had to fix a few things on the bike post-accident: the bent handlebars, the ripped seat, the missing front brake lever, the fork seal, the bent footpegs and the back fender. The bike is like new, at least that’s what the ad says, and would be the perfect hillclimb bike. It just needs the perfect hillclimb rider.DR TestedThor Sentinel Protector
October 2005It seems the current trend among many riders is to leave the chest protector back at the truck. Maybe it’s because they don’t want to cover up their jersey’s new “Jimbo’s Plumbing and Bait Shop” sponsor logo, they always see their favorite pro without one or they think wearing a protector will hinder pulling off that monster look-back no-footed whip with a “cumbersome” shoulder pad in the way. To each their own, but hitting the track or trail without a full complement of riding gear can be very painful and costly; have you priced how much hospitals charge to take a handlebar out of a sternum lately?Thor’s new Sentinel is the latest incarnation of their Scattershield, arguably the most popular lightweight chest protector ever made. Weighing in at a claimed 1.4 lbs., the Sentinel picks up where the Scattershield left off by providing pro-level protection through the usual myriad of vents and air channels for maximum ventilation with minimal intrusion and mass. While most under-jersey protectors these days are nothing more than a sheet of bio-foam the Sentinel adds another layer of protection between the rider and the roost with injection molded hard plastic shells front and back, and reinforces the package with a UniShoulder design to help provide structural rigidity in either full version or the front-only mode. Thor keeps everything secured with an industry-first ratchet-style closure system.Even though many will wear the Sentinel under the jersey we chose to wear ours over the top. Call us old fashioned, but it just feels “weird” to have a chest protector against our skin for a long day on the track or trail. Nevertheless, the Sentinel is very comfortable almost to the point where we forgot it was even on. The UniShoulder and ratchet system do a great job keeping everything in place no matter how rough the terrain or how hard we looked back while whipping it over the 100 foot tabletop (yeah, right). But we were most thankful for the added protection when our buddy passed us on his 450 at the top of 4th gear, his roost making a beeline for our sensitive skin. Guaranteed we’d have welts the size of cantaloupes if it weren’t for the Sentinel. While it won’t be mistaken for a full-on chest protector ready to battle the elements some off-road riders encounter, the Sentinel could very well be the smartest option when it comes to being protected at the track.The Sentinel is available in four colors—Army, black, red (which is really dark silver/gray) and blue (which is really white with blue trim)—and fits most riders 120 to 200 pounds. A back strap and number plate is included. Unlike it’s predecessor the Sentinel does not have removable deltoid/bicep protectors.—Mr. BrownThor MX
619.448.8467
www.thormx.com

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