Divine Revelations

November 8, 2008 by Seth Fargher

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I tried looking as professional as possible for the occasion.

There are moments in life that teach us valuable lessons which, for better or worse, stick with us until the day we die. Inevitable “ah ha” moments when our vision clears and we gain a greater understanding of why things are the way they are.

My first racing experience was one such occasion which I will recount for you in a series of revelations. What I refer to as divine revelation may be old news to you, or perhaps basic knowledge that any self respecting ATV enthusiast should already know. I must, however, share what I have learned as I feel it valuable and if nothing else, entertaining for you to laugh at my shortcomings.

Divine Revelation #1

The ratio of pre-race preparation to actual time spent on the track is ridiculously out of proportion

My machine of choice for this momentous occasion was my trusty 1991 Suzuki LT250R. While aesthetically pleasing with a powder coated frame and chrome A-arms, my LT lacks significant performance enhancing modifications. I have equipped it with Ohlins suspension, and it has an LRD Performance exhaust. Luckily the only additions I needed to be race ready, at least in terms of my equipment, were nerf bars, number plates, and a kill switch. Additionally I decided that changing fluids, cleaning the air filter, and torquing the fasteners on the engine and all the major components would be in my best interest. To this point, all of these tasks fell into the routine maintenance category and since I had very few opportunities to ride because of school, most of these tasks were done once or twice a year, and seldom were they done all at once. I wanted the first experience to be a good one however so I went to work. In honor of professionalism I decorated the skin of my LT with decals I had been stockpiling for years.

As I turned out the light in my shop after a long evening of prep work, I realized that, while I had put a fair amount of time in, I hadn’t even made it to the track yet. There was still drive time, a day of practice, and then the race itself. An awful lot of work for two 15 minutes motos if you ask me.

Revelation #2

Humble pie is hard to swallow

Like any self respecting first time racer, I had high hopes of leaving a lasting impact on the racing scene. I found myself daydreaming about lining up with veteran racers on heavily modified 450’s and beating them at their own game. Per chance a higher up from one of the major manufacturers would be on hand and offer me a full factory ride. I would leave college to pursue my dream of making a living at ATV racing.

As I snapped back to reality, I decided that perhaps I would run less of a risk of humiliating myself if I simply accepted my place as the inexperienced and unknowing beginner that I was. While I preferred the idea of wowing the masses and going on to win a national title, I was content to accept my role and simply shoot for not coming in last. With my newfound approach on the experience, I loaded up my LT and made the two hour trek to Horn Rapids ORV Park in Richland Washington.

Upon arrival, I decided that it was a good thing I had changed my mind about playing the tough guy role as merely pulling into the parking lot revealed I was going to stick out like a sore thumb. I parked my 1979 Chevy pickup next to two immaculate toy haulers and watched in awe as several guys, younger than myself, went about prepping their machines for practice. As I took a deep breath, I reminded myself that I wasn’t playing dumb; I genuinely had no clue what I was doing.

With that I hopped out of my truck, introduced myself and was pleased to discover that a couple of the guys would be racing in the same class. I graciously asked if they would be willing to show me the ropes in terms of how practices were run, where and when to register, and how I could avoid looking completely clueless. Thankfully, they agreed to help and I was satisfied that I could at least make it to the starting line without embarrassing myself.

Revelation#3

No one takes me seriously

Perhaps it was the peeling paint on my pickup truck or maybe the pile of obviously used spare parts I had brought with me in anticipation of a repair, but for some reason no one seemed to expect much out of the kid on the old two stroke.

Me trying to blend in with the boys that really know what up

Me trying to blend in with the boys that really know what's up

As I motored along behind my new friends and took my place at the starting line the, how shall I put this, saintly gentleman running the practice session approached me and with his back turned to the other riders said, “You can run with the old farts and girls if you want to.” Really? Can I? In his mind I had failed to realize I had just lined up with real race quads. Surely I could not think I would stand a chance riding an old, out dated two stroke! When the shock wore off, I told him that I would be racing the B class and that I would prefer to practice with the same guys I would be racing with. Practice went off without a hitch and aside from realizing that riding three times a year does not adequately condition me for a motocross race, I was ready for the races to begin.

Revelation#4

Four Strokes are Loud

With the dawning of my big day, I made it to the track and successfully found my place at the starting gate. As machines roared to life and we began to rev our engines in anticipation of the dropping gate, I realized that I could not hear the sound of my own quad for anything. Because I was new at this, the thought of practicing starts had never occurred to me and with as much adrenaline as I had flowing through my body, feeling the quad beneath me and knowing when to shift was out of the question. So what did I do? When the gate dropped I punched the throttle, waited a while, shifted into second, waited a while, then grabbed third. I continued with the gas, hold, shift cycle until I made it to the first corner and much to my surprise, found that I was in the middle of the pack. I am pleased to say that I held my own and was only passed by one person in the first two laps of my three lap moto. Then on the last lap my rookie prowess shined through. As I approached a sweeping right hand turn, I became a little overconfident in my ability to slide around the turn and managed to spin a full 180 degrees so that I was facing the opposite direction. This allowed three others to get by me and I had to settle for 11^th in a class of 13 riders. Not bad, but had I alleviated the last lap mishap, I could have finished in 8^th.

Revelation#5

Racing is fun

I add emphasis because the advice my grandfather gave me prior to my big day was that racing is what it’s really all about. It doesn’t matter if you’re in a battle for first and second, or last and next to last, pushing and being pushed to reach just a little farther and go just a little faster is why people race.

Leading somebody over a tabletop

The first two laps of my second moto were much like moto one. I managed to make it to the first turn in the middle of the pack and only allow one rider to pass me from behind. As I began my third and final lap, I realized that with each lap I had inched a little closer to the Suzuki rider in front of me. Because I hadn’t passed anyone all day I decided now was my chance to experience the thrill of racing that my grandfather had spoken of. I gained on him little by little, reeling him in on every corner and then losing him on the straight-aways and sections with large jumps. (As much as I love my LT, she just doesn’t have enough umpf to get me up and over a big table top unless there is a long take off.) As we rounded the final corner, the track had a tabletop into a small step up finish line jump. Throughout the course of the weekend, I had become comfortable with pinning my quad in forth, then letting up and coasting over the step up. This worked well as the track took a sharp right hand turn which required slowing down so as not to launch off a steep embankment.

Knowing that my opportunity to pass was now or never, I pinned it in forth as soon as I hit the ground from the table top and proceeded to hold it wide open all the way off the step up. I’m sure to those watching it made for a spectacular finish. However, I was unable to make the turn, so I gassed it again and pulled hard on the bars in hopes of saving a crash. Not so. I went off the embankment at an angle and my quad nose dived hard on the front left wheel. I came off the bike and hit the ground hard, but with style managed to role to my feet, throw my hands in the air and wave as if I had just made a pass to win the overall. As it turns out they gave me the pass and I finished 6^th in my second moto.

I don’t know what 6th and 11th place finishes come to, but in my mind it added up to the greatest day of my life. Never have I experienced such a rush of adrenaline as when I was deafly sitting on the starting line or chasing down a competitor in hopes of catching him on the final jump of the final lap. Two days, a pile of money, and a memory that will last till the day I die, all in the spirit of racing!