At the age of 42, never having competed on a real motocross track, there really was no desire to do so. Air is not something I am used to catching as a roadracer, unless I really fuck up. Sure there were small jumps riding in the woods, four foot drops into creek beds and the like, but nothing that would have me eight, ten, twelve feet in the air wondering which might be the best way to land.
But here I was last Sunday, lining up with 150 other morons, getting ready to take a hot lap under combat conditions on a motocross track I had not seen until 30 minutes prior, had never ridden and really had no clue as to which way it even went. On a motorcycle manufactured in the late 1980's! How did I get myself into these things?
Come race off road with us they said! You'll be good at it they said! I cannot resist a challenge, and I have to admit to feeling just a little bit of confidence in my off-road riding prowess as of late. I knew from my pavement experience that the true test, the only way to really know how good you are is to man up, gear up and put your ass on the line. The starting line.
|Gearing up man and machine.|
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