"What the hell have I gotten myself into?" I asked myself. I'm almost 40, my hair is graying and I'm about to race my first GNCC. Sure, Mike Penland is older than me, but he's been doing this for about a hundred years and he's racing Utility Stock. I'm in Utility Modified. Brock Parker is sitting on my left and Scott Kilby is flanking my right. Not to mention Cliff Beasley. All nice guys, mind you, but terribly fast. And I'm supposed to run with them? Kilby is giving me tips and wishing me well, but I'm unable to absorb anything as I'm transfixed by that freaky music erupting out of the PA system speakers, which is designed to get in your head (and working remarkably well). Rider meeting? Explanation of the course and an offer of a full refund (e.g. "If this sounds like more than you want to try...?"). I didn't really hear any of that; with my heart planted firmly in my throat, I guess the pulse pounding in my ears had deafened me. Or maybe the bees buzzing around in my stomach had consumed my attention. Yes, I was nervous...
Rewind. Since the Loretta Lynn's GNCC was only 100 miles from my house, and I'd been gearing my long-term Bombardier 800 H.O. toward woods racing anyway, ATV Rider Editor Bryan Nylander asked me to chronicle my first race experience for Racer. Add in the fact that I'm a fairly capable woods rider and the sum equaled: I'm racing.
Longtime riding bud Jim "Bigfoot" Crook and I arrived at Loretta's on Friday afternoon, and we quickly found Penland. Thanks to Thad Josey's long friendship with the utility master, I would be pitting with the experts! The rock-star treatment was about to begin.
After meeting the rest of the team, it was down to business: race prep. Michael Swift took time out of his ritual to prep my quad with some tricks he knew while Kilby was showing me around and Penland was doing his best to calm my nerves. I was assured I'd have gas, goggles and mechanical help if needed. After registration and tech (they check the mandatory kill tether and make sure you are running proper equipment for your class), we hung out and tried to focus on Saturday's race.
Take 1
The morning race begins at 10, so Kilby and I rode to the line around 9:30. He assured me my nervousness was normal. What he didn't know were the crazy thoughts going through my head! After picking our start spots, Kilby told me how to start: Engine off, in gear, key on, rear brake depressed-and thumb on starter. "When the flagman moves his elbow, the flag is coming up. Start it and pin it!" he advised.
Before long, the first wave, the women, was off. The next wave was gone 30 seconds later, followed by Swift, Penland and company showering us with mud after the half-minute interlude. We were up in 30 seconds. The elbow moved and, bang, I'm in a wheelie! The race to the pole was a blur, possibly because I had failed to utilize my tear offs! In one fell swoop, I managed to grab the tear offs-all of them-and rriiip, the whole stack was gone! Stupid rookie. I was in fifth after the first turn and screaming. Going into the woods I pulled into fourth.
The pack tightened up quickly as we tore up the first climb. I was riding way over my head and getting worn out, but I was caught up in all of this. About six miles into the course, I launched off a jump and landed hard. Suddenly, my steed wouldn't turn left. I had a tree approaching; I yanked the bar right to avoid it and, bam, the Bomb was on her side and my race was over. I was told, "That's racing." And that was racing. A blast while it lasted. I was disappointed but found out I could have another crack at it at the next round in Seymour, Missouri. That gave me two weeks to prepare.
Having heard about my less-than-stellar debut, Josey worked to get me another ride and Nylander called with the news that Penland was willing to let me race one of his quads at the next race! I took the Bomb to the dealer and told him that there was no hurry on the repairs because I had another quad to race. Did I really want to do this again? A new game plan would definitely be in order.
Take 2
Nylander met me in Missouri to shoot this round, and we rolled out to the track Friday afternoon to receive the Outlander from Penland, register, go through tech and then knock out some photos with Dick Burleson. DB was doing his first ATV race on a Gary Hazel-built Thumper Racing big-bore YFZ. Not only would I, again, be pitting with the BRP factory team, let alone racing Penland's quad, I'd be hanging out with the legendary DB! For those of you who don't know, Burleson is often called King Richard or 8X in reference to his eight-year reign as the enduro champion. The eight-times-in-a-row national champion/quad convert goes pretty well on four wheels and was plain fun to hang out with in his Moose Racing van (a nice escape from the rain). Things were already looking up!
I had changed my strategy drastically. My new plan was to go out for a two-hour trail ride and try to stay out of the faster guys' way. Now knowing the routine, my nerves were calmed down and registration/tech was a breeze. We played the press cards and waltzed through the paperwork, deftly handled by the pros in the sign-up trailer. Now it was down to the waiting.
Race day. Nylander and I headed to breakfast, and I watched him chow down. I took two bites and thought, "I really don't want to see that stuff on the inside of my chin bar," and pushed my plate away. I walked to Penland's trailer at 8 a.m. to pick up the Bombardi...Can-Am? The BRP boys had pulled a switcheroo overnight. They (we) were now team Can-Am! Cool. Media relations dude Jeff Gruhlke and Penland's son, Hoyt, were doing "prerace" prep on my quad. Bonus! Penland had hooked me up with a new set of Maxxis Bighorns, so I had a fresh set of skins to race on. I greeted the team, thanked Mike and hurried back to the Moose Racing camp to suit up.