short-trackage

hey kids:

well, the sun has set on yet another Wednesday. From the sounds of things, it seems as if Bill was battling an epic fight to save all humanity and actually make it to the end of the time-trial out in Hurricane Lyons. I feel for him, as I was barely powering life-support systems at Dustbowl Alley, aka the CU Research Park.

While this was actually the second week for the short-track, the first one got flooded out and they are going to start keeping points for the Men's B and A starting with tonight. So, take that as a reminder that sitting home when it's raining and blowing like the apocalypse can actually be beneficial. My folks were in town and it was great to have them out there cheering for me, since it has been a coons age since they have seen me racing on the dirt. Mom was taking some great photo's and Dad was sabotaging other racers. Just kidding. But not really. Also, Marty was there with her camera, so I hope y'all had your hair and make-up done, since I think she'll publish some photo's.

However, I digress. Let's get down to brass tacks here. The racing. I didn't actually see the majority of the Men's C race--just enough to watch Charles cruise in for a solid 4th. Also, huge props to Pete Galt, who had a test&tune mishap before the race, but pulled it together to rock out.

However, I did see a major-league move at the start of the Men's B, when our very own Mike Bernhardt took the holeshot with authority.

Mike B. takin' names.

Conditions were dry, dusty, and fast. Apparently, Mikey likes it. I was in hot pursuit, west bound and down. The usual first lap mayhem ensued, then settled down into a nice fast rhythm. I came around Mike, gave him a breather, and then let him past to head up to the leaders. I could feel my lungs starting to sear as I watched him bridge to a lead group and as I held the backdoor shut on a couple of chumps.

Near the end of the race, I had gotten used to the course and the speed, but not the dust. Just as I am seeing 1 lap to go, I feel the pachouli-breath of a CU punk on my tail, and I formulate a plan. (actually, the kid was cool, but i gotta get some feud going somehow). I know that I am fast coming up across the top portion of the course, and if I can hold the lead through that section, I can box him out through the pump-track section and into the finish straight. As this plan plays out in my head, pachouli has another idea, and braps me right before the culvert. Crap! His hammer is down, and mine is too. We come out of the culvert, around the corner and into the top section of the course. Now, I must make it by him before the sweeping left-berm, or its curtains. We are out of the saddle charging hard, and rapidly approaching a rider who is wobbling and climbing s-l-o-w. (i did find out later he was trying to finish on a front flat). Pachouli takes the right, forcing me to pass flattie on the left. However, he is swerving left, closing my line into a section of barrier-tape. I tell Chewy to punch it (feel free to let me have it Isaac), and squeak through, rubbing bars with flat-man. However, I did make it past Pachouli, and let off the rev-limiter for a few as we run the pump-track section. One final left and we drag race to the finish, yours truly taking it by half a wheel. Yes! I beat someone for a mid-pack B's race on a wednesday!

Rippin' berms on the new rig

Giving Mike a bit of a shelter from the wind

Alright, now that that is over, I cool down and wait for the A's race... and the chance to get blown out the back by all the local pro's. We line up, and I am nowhere near the holeshot, but I see the front of the race somewhere past the cloud of dust and bikes. I settle in to find that I actually have decent legs and am relatively competitive. Meaning, I'm not running DFL, or getting lapped. Nice. I choke on some dust for awhile and start dreaming about supper.

Mixing it up with the fast guys

All in all, a great night. Leg's felt good, it was great to have so many folks out there cheering, and props to all my friends racing in the bluesky kit.

Until next time, stay classy.

Rob
*all photo's by my Mom, Susan Love. Thanks!