RACEDAY Part 2

I drove about an hour south of Ensenada to the village of Uruapan.  The racecourse left the pavement here for the last 75 miles of the race.  I arrived around 11 PM.  I knew I was early.  I had plenty of time before Mike would arrive.  The motorcycles were very spread out at this point.  I parked my pickup on the edge of a flat gravel area on the side of the road.  The racecourse turned off the highway about 50 yards away.  Only a few spectators could be seen.  One family had a small fire lit to help warm the cold night air.  I tipped my seat back and tried to get some sleep.

I woke to the sound of a high horsepower engine approaching.  The engine screamed toward me.  The powerful headlights illuminated everything in front of it like daylight.  For a moment, my pickup was spotlighted by the headlights as the lead truck turned off the highway and roared down a small hill into the village.  I was now wide awake.  I watched as the trucks and buggies turned off the highway.  Occasionally, a motorcycle or quad would come by.  There were no major pits set up at this spot, but a few motorcycles stopped to chat with chase crews.  I closed my eyes and forced myself to doze off again. I continued to hear the race vehicles pass by, but I kept my eyes closed and tried to rest. 

I was startled awake to Eric banging on my pickup window.  I slowly climbed out.  The muscles in my legs had stiffened up from sitting so long.  I began to stretch and warm up.  I had already donned most of my riding gear.  As I stretched, I began to shiver.  I the temperature gauge in my pickup read 38 degrees! 

Eric and I chatted about his ride.  When he got up into the mountains the bike was mishandling for him like it had been for me.  He arrived at a Honda pit where a friend of ours named Steel was working.  Eric had Steel check the rear tire pressure and found it to be excessive.  After lowering the pressure, the bike worked much better.  I felt like a fool because I had not thought of that earlier when I was having problems.  Eric had been on the bike for nearly 6 hours.  The bike was running great when he turned it over to Mike. 

I tried to loosen up in the cold morning air.  About an hour after Eric arrived another bike approached.  This one slowed down and seemed to be a little more cautious than the rest. I assumed it was Mike, but in the dark it was nearly impossible to tell.  I could see the rider was looking for his teammates, so we started frantically waving.  Mike saw us and pulled over.  The bike was running well and still in one piece.  We didn’t shut the engine off.  Eric made some adjustments to the headlights that he felt were needed.  I threw my leg over the seat and after a few pleasantries headed down the hill into the village like the previous vehicles.  I made a mental goal for myself, finish the race before the sun came up.

I twisted the throttle and the exhaust sound reverberated off the small adobe houses that lined the road.  Large eucalyptus trees lined the road.  I turned a few corners and skirted a farm field.  Suddenly the entire racecourse was flooded.  I slammed on the brakes and slid to a stop.  I remembered some large dips here, but they were dry when I pre-ran.  It appeared the locals flooded the course to create some excitement.  I quickly skirted the large puddles carefully to the disappointment of the spectators.  I didn’t want to get wet in that cold air.

The racecourse was full of turns and climbs and descents as it traversed the hills.  In many places ruts created by the rain crossed the course.  I tried to ride smoothly, but I was stiff and awkward.  I was also not the most experienced night rider.  While the bike handled better with the correct air pressure, it also handled differently with the weight of the large headlights on the front.  I did my best to adjust and ride smoothly. 

At the bottom of a descent the racecourse made a hard left across a deep sandy wash.  The race vehicles had carved deep ruts in the sand.  The front tire and back tire ended in different ruts and turned the bike sideways suddenly.  The engine stalled and I almost tipped over.  With the engine off the headlights were extinguished instantly.  I sat there for just a second in total darkness and realized just how remote and dangerous Baja could be.  I started the engine again and carefully continued.  It was a good reminder that I needed to be extra careful in the dark. 

I found the last Honda pit of the race easily just beyond Tres Hermanos ranch. The lights could be seen in the distance.  I pulled in and as they gassed my tank, the volunteer informed me I had 40 miles left.  I was familiar with the next few miles, so I picked up the speed on the smoother road back into the town of Ojos Negros. 

I crossed the highway and sped down a short section of pavement before turning left through the town.  I was surprised at how many spectators were still standing along the racecourse.  Most were watching in silence, their desire to cheer had long since vanished.  Small fires were prevalent.  Children were sleeping in makeshift beds while the parents stood or sat by their fires.  I could smell food cooking at most and I am sure many adult beverages had been consumed. My adrenaline kicked in and I rode as fast as I dared over the last mountain. 

I crested the mountain and saw the lights of Ensenada sprawled out before me.  It was a beautiful sight.  All I had to do was get down off the mountain to the finish line at the baseball stadium.  But this proved to be more difficult than I imagined.  The first 50 miles and the last 50 miles of the race was on the same course.  The markers were hard to see in the dark.  And as the course started going through neighborhoods on the mountain some of the turns were hard to see.  I had to back track once to get back onto course. 

I could see the large lights of the stadium down below.  I was trying to find my way, but I missed another turn.  I had travelled quite some distance before I realized this.  I didn’t want to turn back so I continued down the road I was on toward the bright lights in the distance.  I saw a taxi up ahead and flagged him down.  I explained in Spanish I was lost and needed directions.  He started to give me directions that would be impossible to follow in the daylight, much-less in the dark.  He realized this and told me to follow him. 

The taxi driver decided he needed to show me his driving skills and he sped down the mountain through the barrios.  We turned this way and that way.  His car was almost catching air over the bumpy streets.  Finally, we turned onto a wide paved divided street and headed down one hill and over another.  I was getting worried about where he was leading me.  I caught up to the taxi and waved him down.  I explained that I needed to enter the dry wash that would lead me to the finish line.  He pointed into the darkness just ahead of us and showed me the entrance on the other side of some police tape blocking the road. 

I thanked the kind stranger for his help and sped off down the street.  I lifted the yellow police tape and turned into the wash while passing by two bewildered police officers. I twisted the throttle once again throwing rocks and gravel into the air.  My adrenaline was pumping double time.  I was about to finish the Baja 1000!  I turned left out of the main wash into a smaller wash.  The lights of the stadium were blinding me the last few yards before dropping down a temporary dirt bank into the outfield of the stadium.  I came to a stop under a blowup arch that signified the finish line.  Sal Fish the owner of SCORE International was there to greet me and shake my hand.  I had so many emotions going through me.  Several finish line workers descended on the bike and removed the stub can from the handlebars.  While one man inspected the check point pills another checked the markings on the motorcycle and engine to ensure we had not changed either during the race.  My wrist band and helmet were also inspected before I was allowed to move. 

Charlie and Mike were also there waiting for me.  They were all smiles.  A man approached with a video camera and asked for an interview.  I obliged and answered his questions.  Someone offered to take our picture, for which we proudly posed.  We hung out for a bit enjoying the moment before heading to the hotel. 

I rode the race bike to the hotel followed by Charlie.  Mike headed back to his rental on the beach.  As I turned into the hotel parking lot, I looked up to see the eastern sky starting to light up.  I had beaten my goal of finishing before the sun came up.  I helped Charlie put the race bike into the trailer before heading up to my room. 

Eric woke as I entered.  He apologized for not coming to the finish line.  He was so sleepy while driving my pickup back to town he almost fell asleep several times.  I told him not to worry about it.  I showered the Baja dust off quickly and crawled into bed. 

Before falling into a deep sleep, I thought briefly about the adventurous day.  We had safely conquered the Baja 1000 with a very inexperienced team.  Everyone was unscathed and intact.  We were able to execute our plan perfectly.  Were we the fastest team? Not by a long shot.  But we had made memories we would never forget and had a great time doing it.  

My growling stomach woke me around noon.  I still felt exhausted from the day before, but I crawled out of bed anyway.  Eric wasn’t in the room.  I made my way down to the hotel parking lot where I found several of my teammates.  We gathered around Charlie’s trailer and swapped stories about the race. 

Everyone was still tired and sore from all the miles of rough Baja terrain, but that was ignored.  I had mentioned to them earlier in the trip that they would be “bit” by the “Baja Bug” and want to come back.  I think they all ignored me then, but now that we had completed the 1000 successfully the conversation soon turned to planning for the San Felipe 250 the next spring. 

After filling my complaining stomach, I remembered we still had one task to carry out.  We needed to find a home for the six wheelchairs we had assembled.  I spoke to the gate guard, and he gave me directions to the hospital.  I didn’t know who to talk to, but we decided to try to give them to them.  We loaded the wheelchairs into Charlie’s pickup and Mike and I drove to the hospital. 

After a few minutes of dead ends, I found a doctor that was more than happy to take the wheelchairs off our hands.  He was excited about them and had people in mind that could use them.  We unloaded and headed back to the hotel. 

We also needed to pack Charlie’s trailer for the trip to Texas.  He brought everyone’s motorcycles except Eric’s and mine.  This took some time.  It was like a real-life version of Tetris.  

Later that evening I met up with some Mexican friends from Obregon that had raced.  They had a mechanical issue with their bike and were not able to finish.  They were a group of fast guys, but sometimes Baja wins no matter how well you are prepared or how hard you try.  You re-group and try again another year.  We hung out for a few hours at a popular night club called Papas and Beer.  The owners were also racers and have been quite successful over the years.  I also saw a lot of other guys I knew, and we all swapped stories about the race. 

I woke for my last morning in Baja with more sore muscles.  I wasn’t in a hurry, but I knew the wait at the border crossing might be long, so I wanted to get on the road soon.  I headed down to the restaurant and met up with Eric, the Christ brothers, their wives, Charlie, and Dena for breakfast.  We hung out for a bit before we said our goodbyes.  Everyone was headed back to the States.  Eric and I were headed to Phoenix.  Brad and Brent and wives were flying out of San Diego later and Charlie and Dena would be driving all the way back to Houston.  The official results of the race had not been released, but the preliminary results showed us finishing in 4^th place!  I was shocked.  I had not kept track of our standings during the race.  It would have been difficult, and I was focused on finishing the race and not with the results.  We were all happy about the outcome.  When the official results were released, we retained our 4th place finish.

The drive to the border was uneventful and after several hours of waiting it was finally my turn to speak to the Border Patrol agent.  When asked if I was bringing anything back to the U.S. I gave him my usual response of “Nothing but bumps and bruises”!  He gave a little chuckle and waved me through. 

It was the end to another awesome Baja trip!