The Big Race 2023 – Part 5

Javi was in the car for his last turn, from mile 1015 to mile 1165.  We didn’t know where Joe was.  It was light out again.  A full day of racing, a full night, and now the second day.  Your body wakes up when the sun comes up and you get new energy and new optimism.

We pulled into a spot to wait for Javi to bring the car into me and Mark for our last 150-mile sprint to the finish.  Javi got another flat, and Joe closed the gap some more – but how much?  His tracker still wasn’t working.  The other competitors in our class were 50 and 100 miles back.

Joe’s chase truck pulled into the same spot we were in.  Ut-oh.  He must be close.  Javi reports the brakes are soft and he had to double or triple-pump them.  We debated if we should bleed them or just go and not invest the time.  THe team assures me it won’t take any longer than it will to strap me and Mark in.

Javi comes in.  They take the hood off and open the master cylinder to put brake fluid in.  Javi pumps the brakes while Jason opens the bleeder valves on each wheel to let the air out.  Victor straps Mark in.  Dean fuels the car.  Javi is out.  I get in.  Javi is worried about how hot the shocks are with the whoops (waves in the sand, rough) so we leave the hood off even though we had shock coolers installed on the car recently. 

I step on the gas and go, relieved to be driving.  I can drive.  Waiting to drive seems much harder.

I know the whole way home very well.  Big whoops, past the windmills, through San Matais wash, past Mike Road, up the famous goat trail….the sun is getting low for the second time.  The sky turned purple and orange – beautiful.  We were confident that with just a 15-mile lead he couldn’t catch us now.  Could he?  We had a 15 mile lead, didn’t we? (We didn’t, we just didn’t know it.)

Our GoPro gets ripped off the car.  Too bad, that was great footage.

We are going fast, but don’t want to take chances of breaking the car now and feel like he can’t be making up much time.  It gets dark.  We get up into the technical hills – really rough from years of racing there.

Lights behind us.  “It can’t be him!  Is it?”  He tries to take an alternate line up and to our left.  We can see the side of his car.  It’s him!  S$%&!  He’s on a mission.  The course turns left and he falls in behind us.  What seemed like just seconds later, he rams us!

In Baja racing, it’s ok to hit a guy in front of you to let him know you are there and you want to pass.  With all the noise and dust and no rear view mirror, sometimes you’d never know.  It’s called nerfing.  But today we have the push-to-pass buttons and sirens.  Not that pulling over for my competitor to take the lead on me 40 miles from the finish of a 1311-mile race was the first thing on my mind…

When nerfing you have to be smart.  You don’t want to hit the guy hard, because you may take yourself out or cause an accident.  And you should wait until the course smooths out a bit because in the big bumps, the rear end of his car and the front of yours are going up and down wildly.  You could get under his car or over it.

But the #1957 had a new driver in the car; a Baja veteran, who was bent on showing his team he could get the lead back at the end and win.  He was amped up and not using his head – not patient enough.  He just hit us and hit us hard.  The back end of our car jumped up and to the side.  He got by us, and we used a flurry of expletives to mark the occasion.  Then we took a wrong fork in the dust and excitement and lost another minute when we were off course and had to turn around.  

We saw his lights bouncing in the dark distance – he was gone.  Dang! 

I did my best to keep up.  The course dumped us out of the hills and onto a graded road.  He should be faster than us here and extend his lead.  Then the road straightened out as it flowed into a small dusty town.  We see a car pulled over ahead in the darkness.  OMG!  It’s him!  We go by!  Were in the lead again!

We assumed he had a flat tire, as that is the most common reason to pull over.  But many other things can break.  We had 4 miles of 37 mph speed zone and then it was back in the dirt for 25 miles – his last chance to pass us.  I was determined to drive as fast as I could once we got back in the hills after the speed zone, and that is what I did.  I didn’t want him to come by me and break my heart with a couple miles to go again.  Either we were going to win, or I’m going to break the car trying, but I’m not getting passed again!  

15 miles later we were sliding around a flat turn in the switchbacks in the hills, and BANG!  The left rear of the car went down.  Dang!  A flat!  We practiced changing flats.  We talked about what we would do.  Mark changes the flat, I stay in the car.  We leave the jack in the dirt because it takes a minute to put it back in the dark.  Mark jumps in, I go while he bounces around trying to get strapped in.  That would be the fastest.

Mark gets the impact wrench out from his door pocket and climbs out the window.  He yells – “There’s no tire!”  “I yell back “You mean the spare fell off?”  “NO, There no wheel on the car!”

We were 22 miles from the finish and broke an axle.  Oh no.  It seemed there was no way to win this race now.  Joe would be coming by any minute.  The roller coaster of emotions continued. 

We worked so hard, and, in the pitch black dark, we were at a low now…