The Mesquite Grand Prix was the debut of the FAST Racing Team (Fathers and Sons Team Racing). We had 5 Dads and 7 Sons (and several supportive mothers) there to participate in the event.
We had a great day with a lot of great results, but not without some of the challenges inherent in desert racing.
Of the 5 minis that raced, we had one seized motor (Sam, on his YZ85 only made it to the first check of the mini loop unfortunately), and my son Benji managed 2 loops on his KTM65 but not before his clutch was completely fried. Benji and Trevor both completed two laps on their 65's.
Quinn and Dillon made us all proud in their racing debuts in the Schoolboy class, and finished, but this was an incredibly rough race to be riding on a TTR90 and KLX110.
My friend’s son Karson raced his RM85 for the first time ever and did an awesome job, finishing somewhere in the top 3-4 of the 85 novice class.
My son Josh raced in the Amateur class for the first time and managed a great holeshot and led the first several laps before 151's daughter Amanda reeled him in. Josh came in off the second loop for a splash of gas (thanks for the pit help Skeeter). When he went to start his bike, his kick starter was gone. It had fallen off somewhere in the desert. We bump started him and I sent him off into the endless sand whoops....yelling "Don’t Stall It". He managed four more laps without stalling. Josh and Amanda had a great battle completing 6 full laps of the brutal course swapping for the lead multiple times , only to have Amanda experience an engine problem within eyesight of the finish, allowing Josh to pass for the win. He felt really bad, and Amanda deserved the win.
Here are a few pics:
My two boys and my new 300 that is not so shiney or dent free anymore.
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Anxious kids on the start line.
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Mini Riders Meeting.
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The Buzzards always add a lot of nice little touches to their races. They had the kids hold these signs for some of their club members serving in Iraq. This was a class act.
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FAST Racing and Sage Riders pits (decals, sweatshirts, and T-shirts thanks to Local Hero).
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My son Josh with Kyler Christensen hot on his tail in the first corner of the 85 Amateur wave. (Photos compliments of Steve Pitts).
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65 Holeshot.....Benji was 3rd to the corner (#962).
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Once the minis race was over, the boys enjoyed some serious bench racing in the pits.
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Now, it was time for the Dads to race.
I can really only offer my perspective on the race, so here are the highlights.
I was excited to try the new eStart 300 on the dead engine start. The happy button did not disappoint and I got a good jump and was in the top ten to the corner and heading out on the first lap. A few guys got past me (I distinctly remember getting roosted hard by Jason Goimarac about 3-4 miles in), and I got past a few others. I had a hard time getting the jitters out and went down in the soft sand several times in the first few miles.
I finally relaxed and settled into a groove. The sand whoops were endless, brutal, and unlike any sand whoops I’ve ridden before.
Once we got to the river crossing (the plywood bridge was awesome.....but, more on that later) the other side of the river was like an entirely different course. What a relief. Rocks, washes, hill climbs, singletrack....now we’re talking.
The hillclimbs and big descents were a non-issue on the first loop because there was no carnage yet. I got to the river crossing (I had totally psyched myself out about this) and got across it without much issue and felt much better about it.
Once all the way around the course and out on loop two, it was a totally different experience. It was like playing ping pong wondering which direction guys were going to go when passing in the deep sand.
The first hillclimb on the other side of the river now had about 20 guys strewn all over it, sitting around waiting for a turn up the hill. I came up the draw and saw the carnage and made an attempt all the way around the left of them. I got through it OK, and I hoped I didn’t have to deal with that the next time around.
The little razorback singletrack and downhill proved interesting this time around too. I came to it and saw guys sitting at the top so I dropped down off the hill about 50 yards earlier. It was sketchy as I bounced off boulders, but I made it, and off I went. Subsequent loops, I wasn’t so lucky on this area. I tried alternate lines and went down pretty good when one of my lines revealed a big 3-4 drop off in the middle of the hill, leading right into more boulders. My bike has the scars to prove it.
Third loop around, I came to the plywood river crossing and about 10 feet from the end I rolled on the throttle and my back tire completely spun out to the left, sending me off to the right of the bridge right for the river. A split second decision, a big "Oh $h!+", and I pinned it, launching off the bridge waiting for the splash in the 3-4 feet of water, but somehow I managed to case the landing right on the edge of the river. I just about went over the bars, slamming my chest into the bars and kept it pinned and somehow pulled it out without going in the water. My heart was totally racing at this point, and by the looks of the eyes in the course workers standing there, I think they were more surprised than I was that I pulled it off. I just about pooped my pants, but it didn't matter because I had enough sand down my backside to make for some already brown shorts.
Now, back to business. By the time I looped around and came back for the real water crossing, I was surprised to see my boys standing there on the other side of the river cheering me on. That was awesome and gave me a boost of energy. Subsequent loops, it was like a game of Where's Waldo to see where my boys and their friends would be cheering me on. At one point they were by the river, another loop they were by the big hay bales, and another loop they were at the top of the big hill by the track.
By the end of Loop 4 I was feeling it. I could feel the blisters forming, and figured I would hang on for one more. I finished Loop 5 and came into the pits and there were a lot of people surrounding the finish line. I was feeling a sense of relief and scanning the crowd for the checkered flag. I roll in, and they send me out for Loop 6.....oh boy, here we go.
I’ve now hit survival mode. My hands are bloody, my legs are rubber, I’ve got death grip in my right hand, and I’ve mentally started to check out of racing. I tell myself to ride smart, smooth, and not get hurt. I had a few good battles with some guys and we passed each other back and forth about 5 times. About 1/4 mile from Check 3 at the top of the hill, I heard a bike come up on my right. I look over to see #183 making the pass. It’s my good friend and fellow FAST Racing team member, Cory Pincock. Dang....I don’t have the energy to race at this point on Loop 6 and I know that Cory’s a faster and smoother rider. We race into Check 3 side by side and I was hootin and hollerin having a good time. Down off the steep hill we go and on to the river crossing.
I tempt fate a 6th time and managed to get through the swift water (by the way, Mark Lundgreen and team deserve a gold medal for standing around in that water all day). Cory’s a few hundred yards in front of me, and we stay that way all the way to the finish line.
I round the corner after the last section of brutal sand whoops and to my surprise see a checkered flag at the top of the hill, and a line of racers bigger than anything I’ve ever seen before. I roll up behind Cory and he’s surprised to see me. He had no idea it was me until we got to the finish line.
Our boys are standing there at the finish line anxious to hear about our race. Cory and I benchrace for the next 30 minutes as we wait in line. Finishing neck and neck after 6 brutal laps a piece, seemed like a fitting end for a great day of racing with each other and with our boys.
See you in St. George.
