First things first. I wanted to extend a huge thanks to Steve and his parents and friends for welcoming my wife and I into their pit. Also for helping my wife with the pit duty's. This is often an overlooked part of a race and can really dictate how a racers finish will be. I know this was probably a pretty lack luster race to pit and spectate as the dust was fierce and we only come by the pit once.
For me it was a huge advantage to see that bright red Gas Gas easy up on pit row through the chocking dust and pull right up while other racers had trouble finding theres. It was cool to meet Steve face to face. My wife thought I was gonna run him down with the truck as I was showing up in the morning looking for him.
When he spotted my bike he darted out in front of me to greet me. So any how Thanks all.
I didn't really know what to expect until I experienced this race first hand. Ya, I heard stories the good, the bad, and ugly. But they always sounded like fond memories coming from those that had competed in the event. I told my wife I wanted to do this race and she agreed, but only if I did it for fun and rode smart not blind in the dust as I have in the past. So I assured her I would and that was my game plan, be safe and have fun, don't do stupid stuff. After all I already had 2 broken toes from the prior weekends enduro.
I got to the line a bit late so I rode by the line of bikes propped up on sticks and kick stands. It was very intimidating seeing that many machines lined up for what must have been a mile. Went through the gate for my mark and was offered a stick for a prop but turned it down as us Gas Gas riders have the perfect self retracting kick stand for this type of start. Rode back down the line about a quarter and found a spot ,set up my bike and walked back to the barbed wire fence and waited for the start.
Out front of us open range, sage brush, rocks and un ridden land for what seems as forever. Way out a mile or more I could see the smoke and the two poles we were going to race to and what looked like hundreds and hundreds of ants to the left of that. These were the spectators hoping to catch a view of the leaders or the carnage of racers.
Boom!!! We were off running toward our bikes, I stumble and fall down. Pick myself up and get to my bike and kick her, no fire. A three kicker and I'm off, and to my amazement still beating the 2 guys on either side of me off the line. This is intense, flat out, bikes flying by you then literally guys flying off ejected, dust and roost and carnage, lots of carnage, crashing into each other etc.. Me I'm in that 40 yard stare of concentration haulin the mail and wham I find something in the open that kicks my rear end up and quickly reminds me to back her down this is for fun be safe. I get to the poles and it is a frickin Mosh pit and believe me I know first hand what one is, I have been in a few in my time. Bikes and bodies are ramming into one another trying to get the advantage. I see several almost get taken down in the mayhem. I believe I made it through the poles around 200th.
First lap was an eye opener, its rougher out there than I expected. Deep silt whoops, rocky loose climbs, along with I dare you to pin it longer straights. It was a real offroad motorcycle rodeo. I picked off many riders where I could and when vision would allow, passing as many as 4 or 5 in a whack.
The worst rock climb gobbled me up on my first lap attempt. A couple racers were stuck in the main trail line. I stopped for a second and in a quick decision thought I could ride up the right of that trail through the basket ball sized loose rock of the trail. Found out it was far steeper looser and bigger rocks than I thought when I was up there. Still almost made it but the loose rock caused me to nearly stall and ultimately lose momentum. So I jump off to save my exhaust and bike from imminent rock rash and bash. I had to push and clutch and slowly climb up foot by foot till on top. Exhausted I pressed on, but with less vigor for the next 5 miles or so until I got my wind back.
After many more miles of excellent racing I arrived at the pits and told my wife it was fun out there and she replied good job your in 100th place.They gassed me up and gave me fresh goggles and I was off. Now for the real fun, no one was in front of me for a ways, no dust, pin it and reel em in I thought. I was feeling pretty darned good and confident in my self and my bike, it was working for me the way I hoped. Yep even without a steering damper.
I caught and over took many riders on that second lap, some who were down on energy and others I just was flat faster than. I was so focused I never realized I had passed Steve or his buddy, not sure of his name. I do remember seeing Paul at the road crossing but did not have time for interdictions. I remember him saying, nice bike! I was shocked at first to see another Gasser, and then later put 2 and 2 together.
Then I got back to that nasty, now nastier rocky hill and there was at least 40 bikes caught up on it. I stop and survey the situation, right then a line opens up. I take it like if I don't make it it will be my death. Well its a good thing it wasn't gonna be my death cause I got near the top and either a rock or I kicked her out of gear, Raaaaaaagrrrrrr. Stopped dead!
pushing and clutching again, exhausted finally on top, Steve's friend now catches back up and cleans the hill, pauses as he sees me gasping for breath and goes look at my hands and holds a hand up and his glove is ringing with blood. I too see a bit of blood coming through my glove. Thats how rough the dez is, very bad blisters are the norm. So anyways I take off after him trying to get my wind back keeping him in sight but I never could catch him. He was going pretty darned good for how sore his hands must have been. Way to suck it up man!
Pushed hard once I got my wind back, but managed to get passed and dusted in pit row as I took the final corner too wide, losing 3 places in a split second. Sitting in line, and up pulls Steve saying "imagine meeting you here"! Pretty cool.
The Stumpjumpers put on an epic desert event that would be hard for any club to top. Its one everyone should be fortunate enough to experience.
This was a very fun day. I had said before the race that I hoped to make the top 50, but it didn't happen this year. I'm thinking I was top 75 or so. I haven't seen an overall posted yet. I did end up finishing 19th in the open class out of 87 finishers which included many seasoned heavy hitters in that class. I finished the race in 3:31min I believe.
My wife took some photos and I will put them up soon. Might not happen until tomorrow, I'm pretty busy.
Roscoe
I continued along, only to come up to one silty whooped out hill and see a couple guys crashed. I dodged right, only to bottom out on a whoop, hit a rock in the silt and go down. Stupid me. I got up and the only thing that hurt was my left elbow (I don't wear elbow pads). The bike was still running so I picked it up and tried to catch back up to Roscoe. After my crash I was all over the place and couldn't really settle into a rhythm. I tried going faster, slower, anything but I continued to bounce off everything in sight and feel like a total squid. I came up to one rocky hillclimb and started laughing. There was probably 30-40 guys at the bottom of it just staring at it, and then a few more stuck on the hill. I looked up and wondered what the big deal was since we make the junior racers up here ride way worse things than that. Me and my big thoughts. I took a run at it, only to have some asshat on a KTM cut in on my line. I dodged right, hit a rock and bobbled then went to dab and tipped over. When I went to dab, my leg cramped instead of extending and I lost my balance. That was humbling. I picked up the bike and went to get going only to trip over another rock and tip over again. Idiot. Finally I got up and pinned it up the hill and continued on my not so merry way. 
