From: tim@intrepid.gsfc.nasa.gov (Tim Seiss)
Subject: Hangover Hare Scrambles Fiasco
Organization: NASA Goddard Space Flight Center - Greenbelt, MD USA
Date: Thu, 7 Jan 1993 15:42:42 GMT

It's Thursday.  I'm just now getting un-depressed over last Sunday's
attempt at racing...

About 15 years ago, the Maryland Competition Riders MC started having
this club trail ride on New Years day since everyone was off work.  That
club trail ride eventually evolved into a D-7 points paying event called
the Hangover Hare Scrambles, held on the first Sunday in January.

January in western Maryland is not really the best time to ride because
the ground is usually frozen.  I rode the race in '88 on my new CR250.
It was my first race in 9 years, but I still had to ride the expert class.
It was about 15 deg. F that day, and the ground was completely frozen.
I didn't do too bad considering I hadn't raced in 9 years.  

I rode the race in '91 on my KX.  It was without a doubt the WORST race
I've ever been in:  About 10 inches of mud slush slurpie over top of frozen
ground.  Sort of like lard on a mirror.  I stunk that day, but I finished 
the race after falling over about every 2 minutes...

The '93 edition of the race looked like it was going to be a good race.
Temperature around 40, the frozen ground was thawed enough to be sort of
slippery tacky.  I had considered renewing my district card in the Vet's
class instead of the expert class, but did the expert thing anyway.

The KX had new rings and rear tire and was running great.  The line of
expert class racers at the dead engine start was so big it needed two
lines.  The pits were buzzin' because AMA National Enduro Champ (in '91?)
Jeff Russell was there, as well as ISDE Junior World Trophy team rider
Chris Smith (brother of Drew Smith).

At the drop of the flag, It took me 4 kicks to get my bike started, by 
which time everyone else was long gone.  But not to worry.  There was
a horrendous first turn pile-up bottleneck, so I caught up to the back 
of the pack right away.  Wo! Was it slick!  More grease on a mirror.
As we left the MX track and went into the woods, I really started having
problems.  I ate serious roost and couldn't see, and had collected about
20 pounds of mud on my bike in the first 1/2 mile...I was having all 
kinds of problems.  Forearm pump, clogged goggles, my helmet was hitting
my Mach 5 armor and prevented me turning my head freely, my riding timing
and aggression was way off...I was a squid...It didn't take long before
some of the fast running Vets and Seniors who'd started about 30 secs
behind the experts caught up to me, so I pulled over and let a bunch of
them by.  I wasn't having fun, especially when I started falling alot
in the slick mud.  

It was about a 4.5 mile course, and Jeff Russell and Chris Smith passed
me around the 2 mile mark on my second lap.  I continue to plod along,
occasionally catching my breath after picking my bike up just enough
to wick it up for a while and make myself feel like I really DO know
how to ride!  Then I'd have the front end wash out in the mud, or get
stuck in a rut and have to pick it up again, collecting more mud each
time. I took the half-way flags after 1 hour at the end of my 3rd lap.
That meant I had gone about 14 miles in the first hour.  The ground
was starting to dry out just a little, and some good, solid lines and
berms were forming.  I was starting to feel better, mentally, but I was
getting really tired, especially since my bike had about 50 pounds of
mud stuck to it (no kidding...). 

A little way into my 4th lap, I had the front end slide out again, and 
when I picked up the pigged-out KX, I notice this silver puddle in the
mud. My rear brake pedal had punched a hole about the size of a quarter
right through my engine cover on the clutch side, nicely providing a 
way for my transmission oil to exit my bike.  I looked around, there
weren't any rocks or anything, just one of those freak things. 

I was disgusted and discouraged about my riding performance, and the fact 
that I was having such a squidly hard time handling my KX in the mud.
I'm 5' 6", about 140 lbs, and the physical size of the 250 MXer is too
much for me when I get in trouble.  Really, I'm 32 years old?  Sheesh, I
felt like I was 70...

I'm dead silent when I get home.  The wife says that maybe I ought to
forget about racing, just go out and ride for fun...I start thinking
maybe she's right...Then I remember Jeff Deeny's "We get old because
we stop riding" thing, and take last Sunday's stinkin' performance as
a learning experience.  It would be easy to blame my bike, but that's
nowhere.  Good riders still go fast in adverse conditions, no matter
what they're riding.  It takes practice and conditioning.  

Yeah, my best racing days are over, but there's still satisfaction to
be felt by just doing it, challenging ourselves to do better and expand
our own personal envelopes of our abilities.  Keep your chin up!

-Tim Seiss
 '89KX250 in need of a new clutch...
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