It's a love/hate relationship with Enduros.

A few random thoughts about Enduro racing popped into my head about 2/3rds of the way through the Loggy Bottom Enduro in Gulfport Mississippi. I raced my first enduro back in '87 and have been racing enduros non-stop for the past 7 seasons. And, you know, I'm not sure that I've every really had any fun during an enduro. In fact, if someone tells you that they had fun at during an enduro, they're lying to your face. No one has fun during an enduro. There are only different degrees of misery. The less miserable the experience, the more fun the participant "thinks" they he/she had.

It is possible to have fun before the enduro, and sometimes it's even possible to have fun after an enduro. Especially if you're waiting around to receive some hardware (trophy). But really, look at what you put yourself through during an enduro. So, here I was dragging along in a 24 mph section when I starting thinking about Kali and her bad experience at some family enduro out west. I started to think about the factors that contributed to their bad experience. Was the terrain just too hard? OR, was it a bigger force that they just couldn't deal with? Enduros just aren't fun. And, they really aren't fun for inexperienced riders. I know, because I was one.

For my first two full seasons or racing enduros, I remember wanting to quit each and every event at some point during the race. In fact, I'm not sure why I ever went back to another event. So, how did I get to where I am now?

Well, first, the human mind does a couple of things to trick you into think that you've had fun. You see during ANY enduro, there's bound to be at least one section of the course that you will connect with. It will be that one section where you will hit every braking point, rail every turn, and squeeze your bars effortlessly through trees that are only 22" apart. In this one utopian section, the traction will be perfect, there will be no dust, and no riders will hold you up (in fact, there will be no traffic at all, you won't even hear another bike.) When you hit the check coming out of utopia section, and roll into the next reset, you'll wonder why you can't have THAT experience for the entire race. This is one contributing factor to why you come back for more torture. If I ever have the perfect ride, I might just hang it up and quit.

The human mind suffers from selective memory. By the time you're in the truck on the way home, your mind will be well on its way to only remembering how well you rode in the utopian section. A week after the event, it's the only thing that you will recall about your ride. Your mind will be clouded with a false sense of how well you rode and how awesome the course and conditions were.

Here's an example:
Back in '95 I rode one of the sloppiest, nastiest National Enduros. It was a truly miserable experience. The conditions were horrible due to 6" of rain the day before. It also rained off and on during the race. I rode through deep mud holes and over flowing creeks. However, my only real recollection of that day was short 6-mile section that wasn't too muddy where I hooked up with a faster rider and stayed locked onto his back wheel for the whole section. It was great! So, how did I do for the day? I dropped 300+ points and houred out at the 10th check.

By the time the event rolls around the next year, you can't wait to go. Why not? You're only memory is of the one utopian section. When you do finally get into the race again you start to ask yourself a few questions. Things like: "Where did all of the deep sand whoops come from? I don't remember those from last year. Was the brush really this thick last year, and I don't remember it being this hot."

It's a vicious cycle and a mind trick that will keep you coming back for more and more. So, will Kali go back and try yet another enduro? I don't know. I'm not sure if she even had the chance to experience the utopian section. I remember houring out of my first enduro (it was also a family event), but I remember one section where I was having the time of my life.

So what happened at Sunday's event? Well, the normal stuff. I'm usually a slow starter, and after coming off of the starting line behind Lemming, I pulled over and let Mark go by sometime during the first mile. I looked back for our other row mate, Mike, but I didn't see him anywhere so I kept going. Eventually, I got warmed up and caught up to Mark and Tim (Lemming). We were riding along on time. In fact, at one point, I passed both of them back and was riding out in front of our row and keeping it just a little hot. Towards the end of the section, I let Mark and Tim slip back by me and we started to fall out of our minute. We were running along behind some extra large guy on an old KTM. He was very rude and wouldn't pull over and let us by. I watched and Tim attempted to stuff him here and there. I really thought that Tim was going to run the guy off of the trail and then Mark and I would be able to get by as well. Tim got by, but the guy stayed up on two wheels so now Mark needed to get by. He squeezed by and then I had to get around the guy. I gave a loud scream, and he finally pulled over. Now, I started to push it really hard to see if I could get back in my minute. A few turns later, I passed Tim while he was lying on the ground. Apparently, he was trying to push it too hard. About a half a mile later, I was guilty of the same thing. I blew through a sand berm and ended up in the bushes. Tim slipped back by and we checked out with a 2. I think that we could've have zeroed the section if not for our misfortunes.

These are the kind of points that I hate. If I ride slow in a 24mph-test section, then I don't get frustrated with myself because I really earned all of those points. The points that I hate are the ones that you get because of stupid mistakes or things beyond your control I hate dropping points on going in checks or losing points because of something like a stick stuck in your front brake rotor. You know that stuff. I started to think that maybe I need to have handicap like golf. So, take my final score and deduct a certain number of points to account for all of my stupid mistakes and then I'd have my real score.

At mile 14.6 there was a restart. I usually don't try and hole shot off of starts at enduros. One reason why I don't go for it is I'm usually the slowest guy on my row. I tend to ride on rows with guys from my club and most of them have their A cards. But, today, I knew that Tim, Mark, Mike and I all rode about the same speed, so I decided "why not take a crack at the clean air?" We had all decided before the start that we would pull over and let each other by immediately if you screamed to get by. So, I took off like I was shot out of a cannon. I was definitely in a zone. I knew that Lemming was behind me, but I didn't hear him staying with me. It seemed like I was pulling away. I thought: "Cool, If I can keep this pace, I can stay out front and beat these guys through this section."

I started catching guys and passing them. I'm sure that I passed all of the riders on the row in front of us. I was hoping that I was getting through the traffic faster than Mark and Tim behind me. Eventually, I caught this guy on a CR500. He was nice and pulled to the left side of the trail so I could pass. As I slowed to go by, I stalled it. Damn! I pulled out the kickstarter and started the bike. I dumped the clutch and in my haste stalled it again. Big mistake! Tim and Mark went by. I started it again and tried to catch back up to them. Of course, the two stalls caused me to loose my rhythm. I was out of the zone.

However, I was still riding pretty well. Due to the time that I lost, I was riding in the bottom part of my minute, around :50. The fast guy on the row behind me caught me, so I pulled over to let him by. I figured that I would just tag onto his back tire. As soon as he got by, we went around a corner and he jammed on the brakes. I could see a check ahead. He was afraid he was hot! So, I charged through the bushes and into the check. Damn! 41:01 (That's :02 seconds late). There's another point that I didn't really need to get.

There was another check at the end of the section and I dropped a few points there too. Then, we rode through the slow 12-mph section down by the river and into the gas stop.

My brother was waiting to pit for me at the gas. My brother has ridden enduros before. Let me make a suggestion here. If you can get a pit-boy, get one. It's great to have someone chase you around with clean towels, extra goggles, food, and some muscle power. I gassed my bike and then went back to my bro's truck to eat some oranges and drink gator aid.

By now, the temperature was above 90 degrees. The heat was starting to really get to me, so I poured some water over my head to cool off. I saw my row mates sitting under the trees next to the gas stop when I was getting gas. However, when I geared up to head back out on the course, I didn't see them anywhere. I rolled up to the reset, and bumped my mileage up and still didn't see them. So, I figured that they had headed into the woods and would be sitting on the side of the trail up there. It was .2 miles to the next possible, so I went on down the trail to see if I could find them. I just kept rolling up from one possible to the next with about :15 hot showing on my computer. Finally, the trail got harder and I started riding faster to stay in my minute. We rode about 2 miles and came to a check. I looked at my computer and rolled through the check at :20 for a zero. I still figured that my row mates were ahead of me and had hit the check at the top of our minute.

Well, they weren't ahead of me. About 4 miles into this section, I hit the wall hard (not literally, but figuratively). I started having that cold tingly feeling that you get when you start to overheat. I could also feel the heat radiating off of that white beach sand that covers many of the trails down there on the gulf coast. So, I backed it down a couple of notches and began draining my camel bak.

Tim was the first one to catch me and go by, then Mike H went by and finally, Mark caught me and I let him by too. My brother was at the next reset, and I took off my jersey and soaked it in the ice water in the bottom of the cooler and then put it back on soaking wet. This really helped me to cool off and allowed me to zero the next section.

By the time we reached the short course cut off, I was pretty worn out. We had a 3-mile transfer section to run at 12 mph followed by a final 10 mile 24 mph section to end the race. Mike and I were plonking along in the 12-mph section when I ducked to go under a tree. But, I didn't duck enough and squarely nailed my head. I had a huge head ache after that.

That head banging incident also put me a minute late to the check into the 24 mph section (there's another point that I didn't really need.) I rode the last section in survival mode. By this late stage in the race, I didn't bother looking at my computers, I just watched for the mile markers on the trees and counted down to the end of the race. Only about 2 of the 10 miles was really tight. I could've ridden the last section much faster if I had had some energy to spare at that point.

You see, the last 13 miles of the race were pretty miserable. But, they were a lot less miserable than they had been in the past. In fact, now three days after the race, I think that I had a good time. I may have even finished 3rd in 200B. (I'm not for sure since I didn't stick around). One thing's for certain; I'll be back for this event again next year. That one utopian section, is one that I really like.