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Lola and I woke up at 3:00am on Saturday morning. I gave Cyndi a kiss and was out the door. Back home I loaded up the KTM and all my dirty gear. One nice thing about racing, is packing for any moto-trip becomes second nature. I almost always pack everything I’d need to tear the bike apart, and put it all together. I never want to be miss a minute of riding because I forgot the right tool. By 5:00am I was cruising down I-84 to meet up with my uncle Ed and cousin Roger for a day of moto. (For those that don’t know, my uncle Ed is responsible for getting me back into dirtbiking. after a six year hiatus)

Several traffic delays later, and I arrived very late at 11:30am. I was too excited to be tired. I’ve never been on a motocross track, and any time myself and the big Austrian boat-anchor have ever gotten airborne, was usually by accident. When we arrived at the track, Ed and roger informed me that it was completely packed. Thankfully the intermediate track we had slated ourselves to ride wasn’t busy. The first few laps around, I followed Ed and just got dusted. It was all I could do to keep him in sight, and the more I tried to go fast, the more mistakes I made. The bike felt like I was riding on stones and was jarring my fillings loose. Got back into the pits and checked the tire pressure. 35psi. Whoops! I asked what Ed was running and set mine to that.

The next time out the bike felt better, but I was still loosing Ed around every corner. He’d stick his leg out like a flat tracker and just pin the throttle around turns roosting dirt. I tried to emulate this, but the bike just kept sliding out from under me. The only way I could keep him in sight was to try and bounce off the berms with as much power as I could get to the ground. I would gain on him through some of the jumps, only to come to a corner and watch him take off. I was expecting this. Ed is very reserved about his talents, but the pictures of days gone by tell the truth. (See picture right. Hardcore dudes ride in vests and glorified football helmets.).

The third session out, Ed and I were completely feeding off eachother. Breathing down my neck around every corner, he was back there pushing me faster and faster. I made mistakes and he’d blow by me. I’d follow his line through the dirt and try to dip back in to get past him, only for the door the close again. Its a god-damned blast riding with someone who’s right at the same skill level as you. Ed and I are both pretty competitive people, so we feed off eachother. Unfortunately while he was chasing me, he went over a berm and bashed up his knee pretty good. It looked damn painful, but after a quick icing he was right back out there chasing me down. He said I got faster, but I know how much it sucks riding with a injury. Still we pushed eachother faster and faster around the track.

We rode until they chased us off the track. Packed up and headed back to go eat dinner with Ray. Ray bought my basket-case YZ250 that I blew up shortly after I got it. (See a trend yet?). Ray and his wife day really rolled out the red carpet. I wasn’t there for more than two minutes before I had a cold brew in my hand and was talking garage with Ed and Ray. Burgers, dogs, chicken, salad and everything you could want. A warm fire pit on a cool autumn night with good friends and family doesn’t get any better. Thanks for a great time Ed, Sara, Ray, Day and both your families. I can’t wait to come back, but this time Ray, lets get your whip running!