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Place:
3rd
Site:
Site: Bonita, TX
Current Standing: 5th,
113 points
Following my...er..."misadventure" at the season opener at Pittsburg, the second race of the year at Bonita couldn't have come soon enough. Bonita was my favorite course last year, with a fair amount of open terrain, and almost as important, sandy soil. Further, miracle of all miracles, we didn't get rained on during our trip to the race site. In fact, the weather was nearly ideal: cool and clear.
Cindy and I donned our practice attire and set out for a practice lap, with Cindy sporting the helmet cam so that we could all watch the tape Saturday night and benefit from her superior line selection skills. The dirt could not have been better: no mud and just the slightest hint of dust in a couple of areas. I made it to where the checkpoint was to be, about 5-6 miles in, and discovered yet another by-product of my ridiculously inferior mechanical skills. In the process of greasing my steering head the previous weekend, I had failed to tighten my upper triple-clamp bolts when reassembling and a couple of them had nearly backed all the way out, and one of my fork tubes had pushed all the way up to the handlebars. What a dope. I limped back to camp and repaired, then set out again. The course was fun, but really beat up and rough. Rough is not the recipe for success when you're: a) the old man of the class, and b) horribly out of condition. My aim for the race was simply to finish the entire 52 miles, and try not to end up on my melon this week.
Just to be safe, I decided to opt for my blue-and-yellow gear for this race, just on the off chance that the red gear I wore at Pittsburg was the culprit of the circus show I performed for my wowed fans. I made my way over to the starting area, lined up on the far outside, and started to loosen up my arms in any way possible, hoping to avoid arm pump. As rough as the course was, and as many large whoops as there were, I knew that was a strong possibility. The flag dropped, and I...well...I...wheelied. Not the auspicious start I was looking for. So, of course, I had to let off the throttle at the exact moment when it's crucial that you're applying lots of throttle, and consequently the rest of the class pulled ahead. I did manage to recover OK and even picked off two or three guys in the first and second turns. Within the first half mile were some really tight woods with large whoops and some extremely tight hairpin turns. Oh, and deep sand too. Well, you would've thought I was riding in the beginner class the way guys were plopping over and just plain shooting off the trail into the trees. I picked up another couple of spots because of their difficulties. Woo hoo! I couldn't really tell what place I was in at that point because of the mad scramble in the trees. Out of the woods and over the double jump I went, where I'm sure my eyes grew to the size of small saucers and nearly bugged out. You see, I don't have much in the way of MX skills. Truth be told, I don't have any. Anyway, I had recovered from a bad start already and was feeling good. A few miles in I was passed by eventual race winner Chris Horton (J31), who was really hauling buttocks. He was out of sight in short order. However, arm pump never materialized and I felt good and wasn't fatiguing at all. At the end of the first 13-mile circuit, I stood in 6th place.
Shortly into the second lap, I caught up
with Brian Mullen (J95), and we began what was to become a 30-mile
battle. I tailed him for several miles, then passed when he picked a
bad line through some rough, rolling terrain. He stayed right with
me for several more miles before getting back past me in a hairpin turn
that followed a large drop-off. I hung right with him, and we were
keeping a very good pace. 
Not long after, I got by him again, and he
dropped off the pace a little. Eight miles or so into lap two I
heard another 125 behind me and gaining. I glanced back on a
straight and saw it was Nathan Price (J98). Now, I know this kid is
just getting unbelievably fast these days, so I knew I'd have to really
cook to stay in front of him. Shortly thereafter, we caught Curtis
Pace (J8), and I managed to get by him in fairly short order. Almost
immediately after that, I came around a corner that led to a short section
of very large sand whoops and was faced with a rider stopped on the left,
who was blocking about two-thirds of the trail. I clipped him, but
managed to stay upright, though it killed any momentum I had and I started
to wallow, letting Pace get back past me. Dang it! That darned
Price has got to be close behind as well, I'd better get my butt in
gear! Soon I got past Pace again. Almost immediately, there
was a 125 behind me. It was Mullen again! He shortly got by
again, as we started to resemble the tortoise and the hare. I stood
in 5th at the end of lap two, and still had something left in the energy
tank, despite the rough terrain.
Two miles or so into lap three, Mullen dumped it in a corner and I wheeled past. I don't think I've ever gone back-and-forth with one rider so many times during a race. Near the end of lap three, he passed me for the final time when he outbraked me entering a woods section, though he was that close to blowing the turn and, once he cleared the turn, had to resort to some impressive gymnastics to stay upright. This time he made the pass stick. I was able to hang with him for the rest of lap three and a couple of miles into lap four, but was starting to fatigue, and couldn't keep his pace. Unbeknownst to me at this point, James Willingham (J63), who had been leading the race, encountered some bad luck when his bike seized. This put me in 4th place starting the fourth and final lap, with only Chris Horton, Craig Pundt (J17), and Mullen in front of me.
A few miles into lap four, fatigue really started to kick in, and my aim at this point was to remain moving forward, for surely Price was still lurking and had to reappear at some point, and I didn't think I had the energy to hold him off this time. I had expected him to blow by me for quite some time. I motored on, concentrating hard on each turn and focusing on choosing smooth lines when possible. At each clearing, I took a quick glance back, but there was never anyone in sight. It was at this point, about halfway through the final lap, that I went into full survival-mode. Even the clutch was getting hard to pull in. At approximately 11 miles in, there was a rider on the side of the trail, apparently pitting, and at a glance, it looked like Pundt. Could I be so fortunate? OK, summon up whatever energy is left, you can wick it up for two miles, I'm not going to fritter away this gift. I never heard a bike behind me, and while in panic mode even managed to scream past a couple more riders not in my class. I made it to the finish! Pundt pulled up momentarily and told me he had run out of gas. Several minutes later, here came Nathan Price with a flat tire. So that's why I hadn't seen him again. I had ridden as well as I could, with no mistakes of any magnitude, and it earned me a 3rd place finish. Of course, if not for the various misfortunes of my competitors, I would've ended up 6th, but still! I was quite happy with the finish. Much like last year, the Monday following Bonita is brutal. I think every muscle below my waist hurts. My walk today resembles that of a 90-year old man with something wedged up his rear.
Footnote: My afternoon Sunday was spent taking Cindy to the hospital in Nocona with a broken arm, suffered less than a mile into her race. In two short weeks she's become a real racer, nabbing her first trophy at the season opener at Pittsburg, and now has suffered her first racing injury. You can read all about it here.
