#6 The journey of 1000 miles…

A few years ago, just two blocks from the start, a buggy blew a turn and ran into the crowd of spectators, knocking them down like bowling pins. This year, they put a 37 mph speed limit for the first eight blocks out of the start. It felt like slow motion.

Once I got past that, I sped up. I wanted to stay in control and not make mistakes. Last year, a motorcycle had a huge dramatic crash just four blocks from the start. That’s what happens when you’re all amped up.

I sped up in the wash with the city street bridges passing overhead. Fans lined the course, even now, at 6:23 am. I was calm. My strategy was to go smooth and as fast as I could without burning too much energy. Above all else, don’t break the bike and don’t get hurt. It was an “Energizer Bunny” approach.

I popped up out of the wash onto city streets again. Left, five blocks, right, a few left forks and then the road opened up to a highway under construction. Hold the throttle wide open. 90 mph wind wants to blow you off the bike. Course turns to dirt. Occasional surprise bump at high speed – be careful.  

I heard a bike coming up behind me at mile 9. I expected Tanner to pass me. I expected him to win this race. He did, too. Tanner has the riding skills, the fitness, and the determination to do it. We just didn’t know what the other guys were made of. We knew there were guys who were tough as hell – but could they ride? And we knew there were guys that could ride really fast – but for how long? Tanner was the whole package. And if I could finish, I could be on the podium, because historically only 2-3 guys even finish.

A KTM came past me on my left. Not Tanner. Huh? Someone passed Tanner already? Later I’d learn that this guy totally ignored the speed limit at the start and blew by Tanner at twice his speed. We also found out that his tracker was not working until the last 90 miles of the course, so he never got penalized for it. Controversy…

I heard another bike coming up. I looked over and it was Tanner. He looked at me. I said silently, “Go Tanner.  Good luck, son. I’ll watch your back, and I’ll see you at the finish line.”

I knew if he just did what he does, he would do well. He didn’t have to go and try to be a hero. He just has to be Tanner today. He is a calm strategist. He won’t make rookie mistakes.

I followed Tanner for a mile or so, but when we pulled into the hills, he blinded me with dust. My first taste of a huge factor in the race. The desert is parched each day with sun. The soil has zero percent moisture content. They do get rain at some time of the year, but it was far away from November. As vehicle wheels travel on the soil that fills the spaces between the rocks, it pulverizes it to weightless flour. When a vehicle, even one as small as a motorcycle, passes over it, the dust leaps into the air, and is in no hurry to end its flight. The particles are so small, they stay in suspension in the air for an eternity.

Wind helps. But there was no wind today in the morning, no wind in low areas, and no wind at night. Sunlight or headlights hitting the dust makes the dust glow like a back-lit shade being pulled down in front of you. When I couldn’t see, I had to back off. At times, I could not see 10 feet in front of me. I had to nearly stop many times.

Other guys were braver than I. They charged into my dust and would pass me. That made it worse for me with a whole new generation of dust to deal with. I thought these guys would eventually pay for their risks. In life, and in a race, you don’t follow reckless people.

In front of me somewhere, Tanner was making some passes. The field of motorcycles was closer now, in this first 88 mile section, than it would ever be. We’d all spread out, and later in the race, you may go for two hours without seeing another motorcycle.

The course wound up into the mountains. The steep inclines were filled with rocks and the silt was very deep. Wherever pre-running trophy trucks got on the gas – coming out of a turn or going up a hill, their wheels would grind the soil into silt deeper and deeper. Mile 55 to mile 80 were very tough.

I got to a switchback section where the locals pointed you down a very steep hill and back up another steep one on the other side. A shortcut you could take to save a few seconds. Last year I didn’t go for this shortcut – too risky. It looked like most vehicles took it due to the condition of the course, so I went for it. It was so steep down that there were rain ruts like wavy slots heading downward. One grabbed my front wheel tight, and I felt the rear wheel coming up…then the rut released my front wheel. Whew – that was close.

The entire course is an exercise in accident avoidance. Disaster awaits nearly every few seconds. The only way to be safe was to stop and get off the course. If you’re moving, hazards come at you like they were on a conveyor belt, and the faster you went, the faster they were delivered to you.

Small goals – small problems. Big goals – big problems, and lots of them.