Dizney's Race Report....NOT!

[10motorsports]

OK, OK, I admit it…I’m a procrastinator. Prior to last season it had been 38 years since I competed in a desert race on a bike, 1975 to be exact. Most of you probably weren’t even born yet! I finished the 2008 AMA D38 series a couple of races early but still gathered enough points to earn a #4 plate for this coming year. And I proudly did so as a representing member of the RiderDown family (BTW, the shroud graphics are spectacular). It was a somewhat lackluster season so ride reports just wouldn’t flow off my fingertips. Both Les Walker and Bruce Vermeulen have “hinted” that I should send in a few ride reports regardless of content. Les and I raced the same series this year, I had to face him every third weekend or so, at times I actually felt a bit guilty for my lack of communication. BUT, the reports never materialized as you may have noticed.

Circumstances change. I’m not writing a race report but you may enjoy reading my ride report. I’ve decided to submit it in segments because it’s going to be long and because I’m a procrastinator, remember? You won’t believe where this story is heading!

A bit of background to introduce myself:
I won’t go into great detail but I will tell you I abruptly left D38 in ’75 after a friend lost his life riding the smoke bomb prior to a start. I was deeply affected, so much so that I walked away with no regrets and no lingering thoughts of some day returning. In 1977 my interest turned to four wheels. I built my first Baja Bug and entered the ’78 Baja 500. A trophy and a check in that first race sparked an obsession that’s lasted for years, almost 100 professional races by my count. I’m proud of the fact that I’ve won all the major races and accumulated five season titles along the way but the cost of fielding a competitive car forced my retirement after the 2005 season. Still, most of my pre-running was always done on a bike. That changed in 1991, a ditch hidden by tall grass just southwest of Santo Tomas caught me by surprise and the resulting crash pushed the ball through the back of my right hip socket, breaking segments off both, and resulting in a dislocation and a very painful trip in the back of a Bronco back to the states. My wife wasn’t very understanding. The phrase “if you ever lift a leg over a motorcycle again” always ended with “I’ll divorce you”. She wasn’t kidding, it became her mantra! The bike was sold long before I healed. It was a good excuse for buying an expensive four wheeled pre-runner, at this point it was the lesser of two evils in her mind. I was a racer when we married; she knew I’d never change.

This brings us to late, 2003. The new 2004 bikes were coming out and California had a grandfather clause for licensing dirt bikes for the street…2004 or older and they have to be registered by the end of January, ’04. I must have caught her in a weak moment; I had a KTM 525 EXC on order immediately. It had been 13 years since we even talked about bikes, I knew better than bringing up the subject. Long story short, I started riding, every opportunity I had. Street, trails, even Baja again! I took a few spills resulting not only in bruises but nasty looks and even the cold shoulder treatment at times. Her new mantra; “Don’t call me if you get hurt again, I’m not giving you any sympathy and I’m not coming to get you” Even “I’ll change the locks!”

Oops, it’s getting late and I’ve finished a page. Let’s continue this later.

[Tatonka]

:yikes LOL, I love it so far Jim! Congrats on the #4 plate for this season in D38 and also for avoiding all those court costs and alimony payments! :D

[10motorsports]

I’ve always had a fascination for endurance racing, the Baja 2000 was almost 1800 miles long and one of my most cherished wins. Paris to Dakar has always captivated my attention and the idea of taking part has grown from a flame into a raging inferno. The Rally is now simply called “Dakar”, it no longer starts exclusively in Paris. Portugal has been its most recent starting point and Buenos Aires, Argentina was awarded the honor this year. The Rally itself is always defined by over two weeks of racing covering a distance of roughly 5,000 miles. I’ve invested countless hours researching any and all avenues leading to a potential entry; the more I dig the less likely it seems for me. Even with the right equipment, proper training, and of course conditioning it’s not an event for the weak, aged, or monetarily challenged. The purported cost for a grass roots privateer effort will approach $75,000! Yeah, I know, might be hard to slip this fact by the wife. Did I mention I’m now 57 years young?

For the past five years I’ve participated in an annual 3 day invitational ride with Casey Folks (Best in the Desert race promoter) and Scott Harden. Some of you will recognize Scott as a Baja Champion, Six Days medalist, rider and team captain for the KTM Red Bull Dakar team, and a recent inductee into the AMA Motorcycle Hall of Fame. The guy knows motorcycles, OK? During one of these weekends in the mountains of Nevada Scott introduced me to James Embro and Kevin Heath, recent returnees from the 2006 Dakar Rally. Both were having a hard time controlling their enthusiasm while discussing their experiences in Africa. James lives in Atlanta, Kevin in the San Diego area just a few miles from me. While I infrequently talk with James due to our geographical differences Kevin has become my mentor and stoker of that raging inferno mentioned earlier. He’s a transplanted South African with a thirst for adventure. Rather than tackle Dakar in a conventional manner like most participants he prefers to enter without the help of a mechanic in the Marathon class to experience the “true intent of the Rally” according to him. Most choose the “easy” way, if you can call this rally easy.

Imagine a typical Rally stage for Kevin: arise before the sun, pull on yesterday’s riding gear, and force yourself to eat something while your stomach churns in anticipation. Take down your tent and pack all your possessions into a single airplane box you won’t see again until the next bivouac along the route. That could be late afternoon if you’re lucky and the section is short or it could be almost 24 hours later if today’s course is long and difficult or you experience mechanical difficulty or worse yet a riding mistake at speed. Check to make sure you’ve filled your water bottles, stuffed enough energy bars into your jacket, and find a place for the sack lunch the racing organizers have provided for the mandatory 15 minute fuel stop along the route. Remind yourself to eat fast while fueling the bike out of 55 gallon drums; the clock will be counting down for your restart whether you’re ready or not. Don’t forget to make sure the day’s routebook was loaded correctly the night before as you were losing consciousness due to sleep deprivation; after all, those pages are your compass, without them you’re lost. There aren’t course markings and no GPS to help; if you follow the chicken scratches correctly your electronic gear will signal you when you’re in the vicinity of a “waypoint” that marks an unmanned checkpoint. Congratulations, your navigational skills saved you again but no time to celebrate, the next waypoint is waiting for you. Don’t forget the meds; better be prepared for the worst by having the proper medication close at hand.

Assuming Kevin has correctly prepared according to his mental checklist his transition ride out to the actual starting point can vary from a few yards to a couple of hundred miles. Yes, 200 miles before the days timed section even begins. The same can apply to a finish. In this year’s Rally the transition section on Day #2 was 600 KM, that’s roughly 360 miles after the timed section just to get to the nightly bivouac. Those transitions can be hot, cold, sometimes very wet, he’d better layer accordingly. But remember once it comes off he need to either stow it or toss it out, nobody’s waiting at the stage starting point to hold your hand. Once back at the end of the day he looks forward to finding his airplane box and a spot to pitch his tent and roll out his sleeping bag. He’ll probably wander over to the main tent for some nourishment before stripping off that riding gear again and looking over the bike for potential problems. The wheels come off, he’ll have to mount new tires and mousse inserts for the next stage tomorrow. Luckily he can accept help with this task but the rest of the bike maintenance is up to him. At the very least the air filter and the oil will be replaced before heading for the scoring area. He’ll receive a new roadbook and check for any addendums. All riders highlight their roadbook according to their own preferences; it isn’t easy riding at speed while scrolling ahead reading these notes as you go, navigating the whole while. Highlighting in different colors lets you know when a Cap. Heading (course direction) is changing, a specific fork should be taken, a river crossing is coming up, or that nasty 3 down arrow ditch is just ahead. Missing these clues could end your day or take you so far off course they’ll never find you with the sweep truck. This might be a good point to mention most icons and notations in a roadbook are still in French, the promoting ASO association is based in France and pretty much intolerant to suggestions for change. After the bike is serviced and the new roadbook installed it’s time to ride over and fill the fuel tanks, he’s almost ready for a couple of hours sleep if he’s learned to ignore high intensity lights, air compressors, and impact tools. They never stop, all night long. Of course the factory riders have been sleeping for hours. When they arrive at the bivouac they take a few minutes with their mechanics to discuss how the bike ran, issues that may have popped up, and setting changes required for the terrain ahead on the next stage. At that point they tend to the business at hand while the mechanics rebuild the bike from the frame up. Quite a contrast between a Marathon class privateer and a factory sponsored superstar!

[10motorsports]

I’ve transgressed. After meeting James and Kevin my desire intensified. In early 2006 I learned Charlie Rauseo , a Harvard educated attorney by trade but a fellow hardcore Dakar enthusiast by all other definition, was putting together a training program for himself and others in Death Valley. Even though he’s technically an attorney I don’t believe he spends much time in an office. I truly believe he only works enough to pay his bills and provide for his family; most of his time is probably spent in a garage tinkering on bikes or pursuing sponsor dollars to fund his racing habit. As a two time Dakar participant, and a finisher, his insight would be invaluable. Scott Whitney was joining Charlie in this training experiment; his engineering background and experience with satellite mapping made him the perfect choice for course routing and roadbook development. Additionally, Scott had attempted Dakar in 2005 with a Harley powered side hack. These two nut jobs just became my Dakar advisors. These guys were/are off the chart! I couldn’t join them for their reconnaissance run early in the year but I accepted an invitation to attend what they dubbed the DVR (Death Valley Rally) in late spring. It wasn’t just the three of us, we would be joined by fellow riders James Embro, Kevin Heath, Tim Hall, Sunny Irvine, Terry Curtis, Mike Kay, Brian Schmuckle, Steve LaRoza, Chris Jones, Jonah Street, Chris Blais, in fact every North American entrant for the upcoming 2007 race except for Casey McCoy and Don Hatton from Canada. I believe Casey was nursing an injury and Don would eventually pull his entry completely. I also renewed an acquaintance with James’ mechanic from Dakar 2006, Elmer Symons, a talented South African rider and James’ racing partner when the upcoming Rally began in Portugal…three months away. A soon to be new friend, Ned Suesse, was to become my riding buddy for the next three days.

Charlie and Scott believe in realty training. We pitched our own tents, serviced our own bikes, and even loaded authentic looking roadbooks every evening. Thursday was a get to know each other day, Friday a 100+ mile navigational test leading to Saturday’s 300+ mile “let’s see what they’re made of” day. Sunday we’ll come to soon. On Friday my poor navigational skills shone brightly, I barely found the starting line and immediately headed in the wrong direction. THIS is going to be easy! Hey, where’s everyone else? By the end of the route I was doing fairly well and my confidence was bolstered, I was actually looking forward to Saturday’s exercise. My start time was 5:05 in the AM and it was dark, really dark. The transition to the starting area was West down the highway 8.78 miles and off to the left. Normally a Rally doesn’t start until sunup, this one did. A word of advice from someone who now knows, stock KTM headlights are pretty much useless. James blasted by me on his factory race bike and I stayed with him for a few miles, taking advantage of his superior lighting. My riding partner, Ned, was up ahead with an earlier start time so I wouldn’t see him until the end of this loop back at the bivouac. Getting back to camp and refueling for the long second loop I saw Ned heading out. After reaching the start line he turned back with heating problems and passed me on my way out. A 200+ loop, carrying spare gas in plastic jugs on my waist, with no partner to share navigation, I’m loving this. The ride was uneventful other than the cactus thorns penetrating my spare gas bottles. The route took us to Stateline Nevada and a gas station so the loss of fuel didn’t become a ride ending factor. I’d survived the toughest day and was feeling a bit ****y. Bring it on!

Sunday was “Dunes” day, a navigational exercise in mountains of sand. Charlie ran us around a bit before heading us into the really big dunes, the type you can’t climb without a paddle tire and purpose built bike. He intended to teach us to find our way around an impassable object any way possible, then head back to the original compass heading. In my case it would teach me how to breach the top of a dune correctly if you don’t know what’s on the other side. The correct method consists of a parallel attack angle as you approach the crest; my incorrect attempt consisted of flying off the back side like a bullet catching huge air before the inevitable nose first impact. My left shoulder absorbed it all but it wasn’t happy, I could hardly move my arm. The bike was tweaked but she started up, now all I had to do was grab my left wrist and place that hand on the grip and navigate through deep sand back to the camp. Scott helped me off the bike when I got back; in fact he and a few others took down my tent and loaded my bike and gear while I applied ice. He also offered me prescription painkillers to get me home but I knew I’d be better off without them if I could tough it out. After all, I had a five hour trip ahead of me and my orthopedist wouldn’t be pleased if I showed up in a drug induced fog. Plus I needed a clear head to face my wife. Remember her, Mrs. If You Ever…Don’t Call Me? An hour out I made the call, “Honey, you’d better meet me at the hospital. I think it’s bad, real bad”. This wasn’t an injury I could hide.

[10motorsports]

As it turned out the top of the Humerus was cracked in two spots, the break looked like a large “V” in the ball at the top of the bone. Even I could read these x-rays; they weren’t tiny cracks….more like canyons. At this point the entire area was a rainbow of black, blue, and yellow with quite a bit of swelling even after that ice pack I fashioned out of baggies and a wrap. The good news, surgery probably wouldn’t be necessary if I kept the arm immobilized and allowed it to heal on its own. Soft tissue damage and potential problems with the rotator cuff would be monitored in the upcoming weeks; issues with either could necessitate surgery. No problem Doc! How soon can I start riding again? No really, how soon? I have a pretty high threshold for pain and I’m not always a great patient, more like a doctor’s worst nightmare. Like me, a few of you may have removed your own casts with a die grinder but how many have removed braces from their teeth with pliers?

Surprisingly my wife never raises her voice or reminds me of the threats; she just shakes her head and rolls her eyes mumbling something about the evolution of man under her breath. I think I’ve heard “body bag” mentioned too. During the first two weeks of January I spent every spare minute on the computer watching the progress of my DVR buddies racing in Africa. After leading the Marathon class for the first three days of the race our friend, Elmer Symons, lost his life due to a high speed crash. Even now I don’t know how to convey my sorrow to his brother, Philip.

After more than 51 hours of actual racing, spanning 15 days and over 7900 KM (3600 as liaison and 4300 as special timed stages), Cyril Despres on a Gauloises sponsored factory KTM bested the field. Another Frenchman and teammate to Despres, David Cauteu, was second, and the big surprise for many…Chris Blais from the deserts of Southern California made the podium in third aboard his Red Bull KTM. He carried the banner for all of those attending the DVR three short months ago.

Jonah Street was the guy garnering attention after the first three stages. Riding for Charlie Rauseo under the Team Rally Pan Am banner he was 4th O/A aboard a KTM 525. This privateer rider from Washington State was beating most of the factory teams and he was doing so on a bike with slightly more than half the horsepower of the big KTM 690’s. Unfortunately a rod bearing failed on Stage 4 ending his Rally prematurely but he hasn’t given up on the idea of a future attempt.

Other DVR attendees successfully completing Dakar 2007 include Casey McCoy, 31st O/A; Sonny Irvine from Mexico, 58th; Steve LaRoza, 93rd; Chris Jones, 96th; and Paul Broome from England but living in the States finished 101st. There were 264 starters but only 132 finishers, exactly half the field made it to the finish in Senegal. The winner took 51:36:53, the last official finisher over 135 hours, I told you this was one tough race! Believe me, just finishing is a victory and an accomplishment to be proud of.

[Tatonka]

Jim - you've got me hooked! More, more......:thumb

[10motorsports]

Sorry Bruce, Les and I will be out in the desert tomorrow earning D38 worker points so you'll have to wait a bit longer for your next fix.

JD

[10motorsports]

My excitement started rubbing off on a buddy of mine here in town. Between us we decided that a trip to Portugal for the 2008 Rally was in order. That boy’s trip for two turned into a couple’s trip for four once the wives heard us talking. We reserved rooms next door to Charlie’s Team Rally Pan Am group and Patsy Quick’s Desert Rose riders from the UK, Scotland, and Ireland. Sight seeing during the morning and afternoons spent in the carports working on bikes. The arrangement was working.

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Watching the preparation circus in action was quite an education, nothing is easy when you’re thousands of miles from home. Simple chores like finding a grocery store or a seamstress to sew those new sponsors’ patches onto your jacket, even getting ready for scrutineering (tech inspection for us yanks) can be strenuous. The Inatel hotel was off the main highway and not easily seen from the road, a recommendation by a local bike club (The Nomads) that became the perfect haven. The rooms would be best described as attached cottages, older but well kept and very clean. The entire fenced complex bordered the ocean with a marina containing a grouping of trendy restaurants just footsteps away. Morning meals were included in the price and served cafeteria style on the South side of the property.


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Our plan was to go through scrutineering with the teams on Friday, catch the start in town and venture out to the stage to spectate on Saturday, and relax on Sunday before our early flight home. We didn’t plan to follow the entire race route.

As we started to enter the inspection compound we were stopped by one of our new Portuguese friends, Carlos Acevado, who was arriving at the same time. He was the bearer of bad news; the Rally had been cancelled due to terrorist’s threats in Mauritania, Western Africa. The local television stations were broadcasting the news but everyone was in disbelief. The entire compound was filled with press crews, teams discussing options, and ASO representatives getting ready to make the formal announcement. Some of these teams had literally invested thousands of hours and millions of dollars in preparation only to be told less than 24 hours before the scheduled start that there wouldn't be a Dakar Rally this year. Robby Gordon with his two vehicle Hummer team and Mark Miller driving for Volkswagen were two of the more vocal proponents of a multi-lap race in Europe using the first two stages without travelling into Africa. In the end it wasn't a viable option.

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Marc Coma was the O/A bike leader in 2007 before an accident took him out of contention late into the Rally. His body language told the story, he'd have to wait another year for vindication.
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The inspection stations were empty. Once the word started spreading the entire procession came to a standstill. By my estimate roughly 80% of the entrants had already cleared these checks and had impounded their vehicles for the anticipated start on Saturday morning.

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