GARTRA CLEANS UP AT ALABAMA MUD BATH

By Sam Shaw

BARKBUSTER ENDURO
Jemison, Alabama
September 29, 1996

Memories

As Greg Luther and I motored west on I-20 from Atlanta Saturday afternoon, I kept turning up the windshield wipers faster and faster until they were slapping out a riotous ragtime beat. Man, doesn't this look like great weather to ride in? Our conversation kept coming back to the Barkbuster Enduro we rode two years ago. It rained all day. We spent the day slipping and sliding and looking up at what appeared to be impossibly slick trails up those endless uphills. Scattered up those hills were dozens of riders, stalled, spinning, pushing, exhausted.

Greg spent half an hour at one hill pushing enough bikes up ahead of him to clear the trail enough so he could get up. I didn't have enough energy to do that, so I just took off through the woods to find another route along some ridges to avoid going up that hill. I did that several more times that day when I came to a hill littered with bikes. All those guys were better riders than me, and they couldn't make it up. There was no way I could get up that trail. My dirt bike became a bulldozer-skidder breaking new trail when I added in a little determination and a little desperation. Even though we started on the same row that day, Greg and I didn't see each other much. At the last section, we met at the bottom of a steep hill. There were 10 bikes scattered along the first few feet of the inclined trail and around the approach to the hill. Everyone was just sitting there, looking at the hill and shaking their heads. After a short strategy session and a little exchange of encouragement, we took off up the hill, blazing a new trail, looking for traction. With judicious throttle control and a little luck and a lot of determination, we made it!

I next saw Greg after I passed through the last checkpoint. He was lying on the ground about 10 feet past the checkpoint. I didn't have to ask why, as I collapsed beside him. About 10 minutes later, I had recovered enough to speak. About that time, the Trail Captain rode up. He told the check crew that he was going to cut off the last section and end the enduro at the shorter distance because there were too many riders stacked up at that last hill. Well, you can imagine what Greg and I thought about that! We had expended our last bit of energy and ingenuity to get up that hill, and all for nothing!

It sounds like a tough day, and it was. It really wasn't any fun. But we still talk about it often. Why? I think we both took some pride in finishing that enduro, and in getting up that last hill that the others gave up on. In the long, world-wide view, it didn't mean a thing. It's just something you carry inside, that you didn't quit.

We were reliving those memories as we drove into the deluge. We knew what awaited us at Jemison if the conditions were as they were two years ago. Why didn't we just go back home? Are enduro riders masochists? Maybe it's just part of a competitive nature. Maybe I need psychoanalysis.

Get Ready

The rain at Jemison had stopped by the time we arrived, but everything looked soaked. I did not have a good feeling about this. I have heard of people in rainy climates like England and the U.S. Pacific Northwest getting depressed in the winter from not getting enough sunshine. An enduro rider can get depressed from one day of rain. Saturday night a cold front came through, and the cool, dry wind blew all night. Sunday morning dawned bright, crisp, and sunny. My spirits improved considerably.

I was a little worried about slick conditions, but on the starting line the adrenaline kicked in and replaced worry with excitement. I was surrounded by GARTRA members with Greg Luther and Richard Colahan on row 10 with me and Jeff Dennis on row 9 in front of us.

Go!

The trails were slick in the morning, and the low places had standing water. Some of the water holes and creek crossings were 18" deep, but they had fairly solid bottoms. As long as you slowed down when you hit the water, you could get through without drowning the bike or getting stuck. I know, I know, I'm supposed to wheelie through them and not even get my feet wet. In my dreams, maybe.

Of course, the conditions were tougher on row 65 than they were on row 10. The trails had dried out enough overnight that the hills were not impassable. As more bikes passed through and more roots became exposed, some riders got stalled, but the club (Birmingham Trails and Trials) had the foresight to cut some alternate routes. Nice work!

Later in the morning, the sun began really drying things out, and the soil conditions were just about perfect. The later rows had some ruts and roots to deal with, but the mud wasn't a big problem. After the last check, the dirt roads back to the campground were a little dusty.

A unique feature of the Barkbuster is a trip through a drainage tunnel under a highway. The tunnel is about four feet wide x five feet high x two hundred feet long. I'm guessing at the length because it seems go on forever when you are in it. When I first went in, I couldn't see because my eyes had not adjusted to the darkness. I got disoriented because of the visual discontinuity. I weaved from side, bumping my handlebars against both sides for about half the distance through until by eyes adjusted enough to regain my senses. That's about when my helmet scraped the roof of the tunnel. Now I remember getting my very first battle scars on my brand new helmet in the same spot here last year.

This enduro was fun. I had a really good time. Being on row 10 helped, but the variety of tight trails, fire breaks, clear cut and dirt roads kept us on our toes and on the gas. The trails were marked better than last year when I got lost and missed a section that had a check in it (Rats!). Strange that everyone else managed to go through that check last year. Maybe I just paid closer attention this year.

Winners

The trail was tough enough this year to take 22 points from overall winner Frank Ramey III. Steven Smith took first AA also with 22 points, just losing out on the tiebreakers.

These GARTRA guys had a good day and took home a trophy to show for it.

1stB Open Pat Tucker 4thC Veteran Greg Luther 3rdB Senior Ken Hensley 1stC Super Sr.Sam Shaw 1stGolden Masters James Bransford

These GARTRA guys didn't have their best day ever.

Trey Cail, age 13, was doing well in the Junior Open class until he had a mechanical failure. A missing crankcase breather hose let some water into the transmission. Trey was ready to carry on like a true enduro rider, but Chief Mechanic and Bill Payer (Dad Murry) put a stop to Trey's race when he saw the problem. Dad decided to give up the race and save the transmission. Hang in there, Trey. There'll be another one.

Richard Colahan is known to many GARTRA folks as a dual sport expert and the fellow who lays out the trail for our annual CHATTAHOOCHEE FOREST DUAL SPORT RIDE ("The Hooch"). What some don't know is that 20 years ago up in Pennsylvania, Richard earned an AMA "A" classification as an enduro rider. This season, Richard decided to try his hand again at a few selected events in the A Super Senior class (age 45-49). Richard is one of those few truly talented riders who always look like they are just loafing along. He doesn't flail around with arms and feet akimbo, bouncing between trees like a pinball. He is so smooth, he looks like he is just easing along the trail. There he is right in front of you. But you look up a minute later, and he is out of sight. Where did he go? He didn't look like he was going that fast!

Early today while the trail was still slick, something surprised Richard and he took a tumble. That aggravated an old injury and forced him to retire from the race. I think most of us would have headed for the house about then to ease our pain and search for a little TLC. But not Richard. He was hurting, but at the gas stop, he was there to support Greg and me with a jug of ice water and then proceeded to clean everyone's goggles! Thanks, Richard. You can ride on my row any time.

This was the first ever enduro for Jeff Dennis. This was a tough event by any standard, and Jeff did great for a beginner. He houred out by just 5 minutes at the last check after nearly 60 miles of challenging trail; rocks, ruts, roots, mud and all. At my first enduro, I houred out before the gas stop at the half-way point. So Jeff failed you think? Not in my book. Let's back up to the first section of the day when the trails were pretty slimy.

I was going down a fairly steep, really slick hill on a fast firebreak trail. I was looking at the bottom of the hill. As I reached the bottom and headed up the next hill, I had up a pretty good head of steam. I raised my eyes to see a youngster, probably about 13 years old, standing in the trail beside his fallen XR100. I moved as far to the right as I could go, but the slope of the side of the trail would only let the bike move over just so far. I called out to the youngster, "Look out!", and started getting on the brakes. The boy turned to look at me. Just then a large hand reached out and pulled the lad over to the side of the trail and behind his bike. As I went by with room to spare, Jeff held on to the boy. Jeff had stopped half way up that slimy, steep trail to help that boy get his bike up the hill. Over the last several years, I have learned that Jeff is generous with his resources in support of GARTRA and THE PEDIATRIC BRAIN TUMOR FOUNDATION (Ride For Kids). I am now an eye witness that Jeff is also generous with his spirit. Jeff, my friend, you have got your priorities in the right order. I would be pleased if you would let me ride on your row someday.

I get all pumped up with the thrill of challenging my meager abilities at these enduros, but I usually get the most satisfaction from meeting the fine people associated with this sport.