GNCC Racing Holiday
- Thread starter Splash
- Start date
Splash
Race Dog
Racing with a friend in America
After three weeks of intense study, I can with confidence say I now know the secret of being a successful dirt bike racer: stay away from butter and banish sugar as if it is a highly toxic and deadly substance. That is it! Just like Kenny Gilbert.
This way of life is understood and complied with even by the greater community. Walk into a fast-food establishment and one does not get a knowing smile and an automatic order of double fries, mega hamburger and a soda. No, never, one gets a “no butter” utterance and a nod of understanding. The Waffle House is passed as if it is condemned by some horrible disease. Have ice-cream and you are excommunicated and relegated to a life of failure.
This brought me face to face with the inevitable and difficult decision of ever wanting to be a successful dirt bike racer. I suffered miserably trying to live up to such high expectations and confess on more than one occasion relapsed to my old evil ways. Chocolate Brownies ultimately led me to sin. Could not help myself. Ended up having more than one helping. Topped it off with ice-cream and chocolate sauce. Seventh heaven. Going to gym and swimming was my penance for my unforgivable discretions. This was obviously not enough. At this stage it just seems too high a price to pay so I will remain on the last row of any start line for the rest of my mortal life.
Global warming is taking place. Whenever I wanted to go riding it was raining. It must be all the carbon fuel emissions that we made flying across the Atlantic. The tipping point may have been reached by two additional dirt-bike riders, Steph Venter and myself. Whenever we just thought of starting our bikes it would come pouring down. I have conclusive evidence of this. Repeatedly we were told that it had never rained so much in living memory. Proved that “global warming” is incorrect - this phenomenon should be referred to as “global cooling”. It was not unusual to find myself dressed up in an arctic jacket, gloves, scarf and hat, not dissimilar to an Eskimo. This effect seems to be greater if one is trying to camp. So much for being in nature’s arms. She is cruel and ensures one is painfully aware of the elements. Dirt bike riders are tough so we were fully prepared, enjoying the luxury of a centrally heated RV. These things are something else. Mother nature, bring it on. We had a generator for powering satellite TV and microwave (no log fires for us), hot pressurised water, a shower and flushing convenience. Got to look after ourselves, need to be in the best form to be a dirt bike racer.
‘The pits’ have an unjustified negative connotation which is utterly uncalled for. They are a place of great effort and hasty labour. Dave McEntire is the saint of all things to do with the pits. It is holy ground and treated with great respect. The pro riders get the holy of holy ground and the crowds are kept from this area by a pit lane. The pit lane is a special opportunity for all racers to show off how fast they are actually riding, their highly trained ability to stop and take off at lightning speed (lest they are hit by a bolt of lightning for slacking off). A motivation system is used with the use of boards. Lack of reading time results in very precise instructions – pin it, ride for your life, slow down if you see a white light or do or die. They race like their lives depend on it, maybe it does.
Only Americans can make a performance over nothing. Race starts become a Hollywood production, commentary and music added. Still now suffering nightmares with someone shouting “are you ready to go GNCC racing?” My blood turns cold when he then shouts “ten seconds”, hoping not to be left behind ride flat out from a dead engine start. The silence is broken by a line of bikes starting with an almighty roar and all heading for a hole-shot. A prayer is said before the race, the national anthem sung and each rider introduced. One is hyped up with adrenaline before the start flag even drops. This is a grand national event and every opportunity is taken to let you know it. It is a grand production and something to see. Racing taken to the spectators. Tracks are relatively short, twelve miles of technical riding, using forests, streams, mud, hills and insane turns to keep the racing alive. Commentary is ongoing with live reports from different points of the track and it is broadcast on radio. Live scoring is displayed, riders given their place and time behind on each lap.
I had the pleasure of tasting dirt at Steele Creek (Morganton, North Carolina) and Big Buck (Union, South Carolina). Ran into the mother of all bouncers in the guise of tough tracks which ensured that I laid low for a week after each race, discovering new pains as old ones slowly went away. These races are motocross on a big scale. The track is in your face the whole time with no moment to relax at any point. The price of a lapse of concentration is an immediate penalty with a branch slap, tree climb or flying crash into the ground. A terrifying game of tree-to-tree ping-pong is played. Lapping riders just about ride over you and a crash of handlebars is not unusual. Terrain was daunting, a world apart from what I am used to riding. Add a little mud, some roots and a hill climb and Nightmare on Elm Street becomes a personal reality. Woops and ruts appear from nowhere and add to the nightmare. On field sections you are tempted to give some gas - only to become the king of slide-outs as the grass is slick. No good deed goes unpunished in this world. One does not even get a chance to rest at bottlenecks and complain while catching one’s breath, wishing for some strength to carry on. These distractions are not allowed. You are there to race, and race is what you are only to do.
I was honoured with the opportunity of racing a KTM 450xc. Steph rode a Kawasaki KX450. Both bikes had been raced and setup for this terrain. We invaded Vance Earl’s workshop in Blacksburg, South Carolina and made it our staging point for further assaults. Vance kept a watchful eye on us to ensure that his children were not influenced by our behaviour. We were spoilt rotten, even corrupted with homemade hamburgers. We got to work on our bikes, well… watch as our bikes were worked on. What a pleasure to clean my bike with all his toys. In his backyard he has a woods track and a motocross track. Enough to keep us busy most days. We also practiced on a turn-track (field track with many turns) and tore those up, or tried to at least.
This was an experience of a lifetime. I cannot thank everyone enough for making it such a great time. Did less riding than I thought yet did ride a lot more than I have ever ridden. Why does a competitive rider do this day after day? It must take total dedication. My admiration and respect for those who get up on a Sunday, climb on a bike and race. I have a new love for my desk yet remain obsessed with bikes. Kenny, best of luck, you are a friend indeed. Thanks.
After three weeks of intense study, I can with confidence say I now know the secret of being a successful dirt bike racer: stay away from butter and banish sugar as if it is a highly toxic and deadly substance. That is it! Just like Kenny Gilbert.
This way of life is understood and complied with even by the greater community. Walk into a fast-food establishment and one does not get a knowing smile and an automatic order of double fries, mega hamburger and a soda. No, never, one gets a “no butter” utterance and a nod of understanding. The Waffle House is passed as if it is condemned by some horrible disease. Have ice-cream and you are excommunicated and relegated to a life of failure.
This brought me face to face with the inevitable and difficult decision of ever wanting to be a successful dirt bike racer. I suffered miserably trying to live up to such high expectations and confess on more than one occasion relapsed to my old evil ways. Chocolate Brownies ultimately led me to sin. Could not help myself. Ended up having more than one helping. Topped it off with ice-cream and chocolate sauce. Seventh heaven. Going to gym and swimming was my penance for my unforgivable discretions. This was obviously not enough. At this stage it just seems too high a price to pay so I will remain on the last row of any start line for the rest of my mortal life.
Global warming is taking place. Whenever I wanted to go riding it was raining. It must be all the carbon fuel emissions that we made flying across the Atlantic. The tipping point may have been reached by two additional dirt-bike riders, Steph Venter and myself. Whenever we just thought of starting our bikes it would come pouring down. I have conclusive evidence of this. Repeatedly we were told that it had never rained so much in living memory. Proved that “global warming” is incorrect - this phenomenon should be referred to as “global cooling”. It was not unusual to find myself dressed up in an arctic jacket, gloves, scarf and hat, not dissimilar to an Eskimo. This effect seems to be greater if one is trying to camp. So much for being in nature’s arms. She is cruel and ensures one is painfully aware of the elements. Dirt bike riders are tough so we were fully prepared, enjoying the luxury of a centrally heated RV. These things are something else. Mother nature, bring it on. We had a generator for powering satellite TV and microwave (no log fires for us), hot pressurised water, a shower and flushing convenience. Got to look after ourselves, need to be in the best form to be a dirt bike racer.
‘The pits’ have an unjustified negative connotation which is utterly uncalled for. They are a place of great effort and hasty labour. Dave McEntire is the saint of all things to do with the pits. It is holy ground and treated with great respect. The pro riders get the holy of holy ground and the crowds are kept from this area by a pit lane. The pit lane is a special opportunity for all racers to show off how fast they are actually riding, their highly trained ability to stop and take off at lightning speed (lest they are hit by a bolt of lightning for slacking off). A motivation system is used with the use of boards. Lack of reading time results in very precise instructions – pin it, ride for your life, slow down if you see a white light or do or die. They race like their lives depend on it, maybe it does.
Only Americans can make a performance over nothing. Race starts become a Hollywood production, commentary and music added. Still now suffering nightmares with someone shouting “are you ready to go GNCC racing?” My blood turns cold when he then shouts “ten seconds”, hoping not to be left behind ride flat out from a dead engine start. The silence is broken by a line of bikes starting with an almighty roar and all heading for a hole-shot. A prayer is said before the race, the national anthem sung and each rider introduced. One is hyped up with adrenaline before the start flag even drops. This is a grand national event and every opportunity is taken to let you know it. It is a grand production and something to see. Racing taken to the spectators. Tracks are relatively short, twelve miles of technical riding, using forests, streams, mud, hills and insane turns to keep the racing alive. Commentary is ongoing with live reports from different points of the track and it is broadcast on radio. Live scoring is displayed, riders given their place and time behind on each lap.
I had the pleasure of tasting dirt at Steele Creek (Morganton, North Carolina) and Big Buck (Union, South Carolina). Ran into the mother of all bouncers in the guise of tough tracks which ensured that I laid low for a week after each race, discovering new pains as old ones slowly went away. These races are motocross on a big scale. The track is in your face the whole time with no moment to relax at any point. The price of a lapse of concentration is an immediate penalty with a branch slap, tree climb or flying crash into the ground. A terrifying game of tree-to-tree ping-pong is played. Lapping riders just about ride over you and a crash of handlebars is not unusual. Terrain was daunting, a world apart from what I am used to riding. Add a little mud, some roots and a hill climb and Nightmare on Elm Street becomes a personal reality. Woops and ruts appear from nowhere and add to the nightmare. On field sections you are tempted to give some gas - only to become the king of slide-outs as the grass is slick. No good deed goes unpunished in this world. One does not even get a chance to rest at bottlenecks and complain while catching one’s breath, wishing for some strength to carry on. These distractions are not allowed. You are there to race, and race is what you are only to do.
I was honoured with the opportunity of racing a KTM 450xc. Steph rode a Kawasaki KX450. Both bikes had been raced and setup for this terrain. We invaded Vance Earl’s workshop in Blacksburg, South Carolina and made it our staging point for further assaults. Vance kept a watchful eye on us to ensure that his children were not influenced by our behaviour. We were spoilt rotten, even corrupted with homemade hamburgers. We got to work on our bikes, well… watch as our bikes were worked on. What a pleasure to clean my bike with all his toys. In his backyard he has a woods track and a motocross track. Enough to keep us busy most days. We also practiced on a turn-track (field track with many turns) and tore those up, or tried to at least.
This was an experience of a lifetime. I cannot thank everyone enough for making it such a great time. Did less riding than I thought yet did ride a lot more than I have ever ridden. Why does a competitive rider do this day after day? It must take total dedication. My admiration and respect for those who get up on a Sunday, climb on a bike and race. I have a new love for my desk yet remain obsessed with bikes. Kenny, best of luck, you are a friend indeed. Thanks.
iep_kruger
Race Dog
- Joined
- Mar 28, 2007
- Messages
- 2,566
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- 1
- Location
- PRETORIA/HARTEBEESPOORT
- Bike
- Honda XRV 750 Africa Twin
geeez splash,,,
what happened to that guy that sukkeled fixing tyres in the boons,,,,
and the guy who was so super slow riding to botswana ????
dammmm,,,respect dude,,,i salute you
what happened to that guy that sukkeled fixing tyres in the boons,,,,
and the guy who was so super slow riding to botswana ????
dammmm,,,respect dude,,,i salute you
blazes
Grey Hound
- Joined
- Aug 10, 2007
- Messages
- 9,684
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- 10
- Location
- Faerie Glen
- Bike
- Husqvarna (all models)
After three weeks of intense study, I can with confidence say I now know the secret of being a successful dirt bike racer: stay away from butter and banish sugar as if it is a highly toxic and deadly substance. That is it! Just like Kenny Gilbert.
Now that is Why i will never be a successful dirt bike rider
I like the Sugar and Butter toooooo much :mwink:
Glad you back home in one piece. Experience you had---Awesome :thumleft:
Now that is Why i will never be a successful dirt bike rider
I like the Sugar and Butter toooooo much :mwink:Glad you back home in one piece. Experience you had---Awesome :thumleft:
