YOUR RACE

A friend of mine on his website (www.firepolicemx.com) started a page to let people share their race with others. When we get back to the pits we all tell our stories of the things that happened out on course. e-mail me your tale and I will put it up for others to enjoy. Send them to Keith@nmdrc.com

John O'Farrell #822/50+ Novice class

A rider for Christ and my O8 Rattlesnake pre-ride

Hello everyone out there in NMDRC land. This is #822 / 50+ novice class;
yes the guy that crashed in the pre-ride. My CR500R and the Rattlesnake bit
me again, what can I say. A lot worse this time, but I’m well on my way to
starting recovery after having my broken, lower left leg surgically
repaired. I was transported by ambulance later Saturday evening to Lovelace
Westside hospital and next day they operated on me, inserting a permanent
titanium rod down the center of my tibia and screws to the rod to set the
bone in place.
Here is my story. I went down the small hill at check point one, saw a
smooth wide decent and transition into the sandwash so hit 2nd gear for some
speed and momentum. There was a small choppy section entering the wash that
sent and caught me in weird side to side bouncing rhythm. When I bounced
back to the left my back tire swung left and I turned into it slightly to
straighten up, but my front tire came down and sank into some very soft sand
that cocked it to far to the left and sent me and the bike into an endow. I
got face and chest planted into the wash, but my left boot got hung up in my
bike that was still flipping, this torqued my foot/ankle downward and back
breaking my leg about 2-3” above my ankle before it pulled free and I slid
away from the bike. OOOOCH did that hurt, and continued until I finally got
some pain meds quite awhile later in the Espanola hospital ER room.
As a Christian, during the crash and after, I feel the good Lord is
knocking on my door and telling me to lay down the racing for now to refocus
on Him and get some spiritual things re-prioritized in my life. This time I
said yes Lord, I hear and I obey :). Not sure what the future will bring.
I want to thank everybody for your prayers, concern and getting me out of
there and to the hospital. Take care and God Bless all you NMDRC folks!

Sincerely,
John O’Farrell

I had spent most of the time from Corralitos to now working on my bike. I had to remove the engine and split the cases. Why? A stripped drain plug! Yes, it had to be done. Rex decided to help out and loaned me his ’07 YZ250 to practice on. What a fun bike! Unfortunately, I grenaded a crank bearing the second day of riding. Without much training, I also neglected my diet and substituted too much water with beer. (That was my excuse preamble)
Rex(#5), Lucas(pit man), Jack(#4) and I(#100) convened at my house and we loaded up in Jack’s truck for the weekend of fun.
The pre-ride Saturday was almost déjà vu of last year. Well, with the exemption of moisture! The sand was so dry that it was like riding on mud; slipping and sliding everywhere. I had a hard time relaxing and the arm pump was almost instant. I had fun playing with all the traffic and had some other riders make minced meat of me, as well. After one loop my arm pump showed no sign of loosening up, so I called it a day.
We all socialized for a while and watched the mini’s before heading to town. I had reserved a room at Day’s Inn for Rex and I not knowing who else was coming. No more rooms were available so Jack and Lucas found a room at another hotel. From there I was on a pasta hunt.(carbs) The Italian joint we found last year was not favored by the others in the group, so we settled for Golden Corral. Food pickin’s were pretty slim and the people were…….We ended up bedding down around 9:30. What an early night!
Jack and Lucas picked us up around 7:30 Sunday and we caught breakfast at the local diner. After bacon and eggs, it was on to the track to wait for our race to start. As soon as everyone started getting ready, it was posted that the race was postponed till 10:30. I decided to take the Keith Clark approach to getting ready and waited till the last minute. I had scoped the starting area earlier and wanted a line to the left away from the instant whoops. Luckily, there was one more spot still left open.
Standing with both feet on the left of the bike, we waited for Brett to raise the flag. Whoosh! There it went- leg over the bike- one kick- nothing. Aaaaarrgghh! Two more kicks and I was going already behind ¾ of the pack. This isn’t what I had planned! lol I anxiously tried to pick off guys right away to get me in front and in relax mode. After the bottle neck, we raced into the hills before returning further up the start wash. Here everyone swept outside to the left. By now I had passed four bikes and by holding tight to the right through the deep whoops, I could pick off a few more-Greed- Four whoops in, I swapped, rolled the gas, swapped, panic revved, flipped with the bike following suit, DIRT. Owwie! My bike landed upside down on the seat. I picked my bike up and gave it a quick inspection: nothing bent! Two kicks and I was on again.
By now I was with familiar racers, the B class! Probably where I belong J After the crash there was no relaxing. Half way through the 1st loop past the pits, I pulled over, goggles and helmet off, and tried to relieve my arm pump. 10 bikes went by before(put# here) asked if I was alright. Realizing how lame I must have looked, I geared up and fell in. After crossing a couple of big washes, I ran into a downed rider in a corner, brakes on, swung wide over the berm, DIRT. Kicked for a few and raced on.
I pitted right away and found Lucas(still healing from a shattered collar bone in Gordo) waving me in. He asked, “what happened to you?” I explained to him and Jessica about the crash and told them to be ready each loop. I needed the break!
I stalled the bike after coming down the big dune by the pits. Kick, kick, kick. Oh, man! Aaron offered help, but I held my pride and got it going again. I rounded the trees and shot up the dune trying to pass #387? right at the jump. I landed squirrely and snaked the rest of the way up where he let me by knowing he would see me again. After all, this wasn’t the first time!
During my second pit, I killed the bike even though I was taking no gas.-Don’t ask. The bike flooded and after kicking forever and being pushed I gave in and let Aaron kick for while. As soon as it revved I jumped on and continued to putt past the finish check. A couple of stalls later in the third loop, I tried passing someone while turning down the dune hill that approached the camps. Came in hot, squared the corner, hugged the inside, DIRT. I struggled to pick up my bike while facing down the steep slope. As soon as I was vertical another rider rounded the corner, grip caught the rear fender, pulled the bike away, DIRT. I walked around the other side, picked it up again, walked around to the up side, and mounted. Out of breath, I looked down the hill. At the bottom was a small group of spectators that had been watching the action. I extended arms and fists in the air celebrating a small victory and they cheered and whistled me on. My inner child quickly mended, I coasted down, pop started and charged on.
Fourth loop, half way through the ‘back nine’, I again found a stalled rider in a burm-yes-….DIRT. Hidden on the inside behind a tree, I struggled to start my bike. Two guys passed me, the second giving my rear tire a love tap. Even Rex lapped me here, hollering as he went by. I decided to relocate. Finding the road next to the wash I saw Jack pushing his bike back to the pits. Later I learned that his rear hub shattered ripping his rear sprocket off. Man, I wish I could ride that hard! I spotted a 14’ sloped trail into the wash and figured I could pop start there. Chug-a-Chug—nothing! I kicked until I was turning blue. I watched other riders like Daniel#3 and even Keith#362 cruise by on the other side of the wash. No one offered help! Understandably, they were racing, but what about the two spectators who walked their dog right past me? I know, I know, quit whining, baby. After busting my knuckle open on the gas tank, I decided a better method of starting my bike was to turn the gas off and lay it over to drain the carb. Vroom! Yes! Even though I had filled my goggles with sand during the event, I was happy just to get going.
I finished without any more problems, only one bobble, no DIRT.
I have never had so much fun while having so many problems during a race. I only blame myself for the poor performance. It wouldn’t have been possible if not for Brett w/ WEBE, good job on the course; High Velocity Cycles, and Rex Cameron who made sure that I was able to go. Thanks everyone.

3/16 My race, Shall we say wind, Race morning was kind of cold, although the wind was not blowing. The quads can thank DJ that they got out before the wind picked up. I went in to the trailer to finish getting ready and came out a few minutes later to what looked like a traffic jam out on pit row. I could not believe how many bikes were out there. I went walking down through the rows to find mind row. I kidded around with Possum and Tim for a few then counted there to be 15 bikes in my class. Wow, at this point I was hoping to make the top ten. At the start I let Tim go ahead of me so he would not have to pass me on the track but mostly so I would not feel bad when he did. I took off pretty strong and started passing a few guys. I caught up to Tim but at that point my right arm started its normal ache and I could not twist the throttle. Before the first check point I could feel my rear tire was starting to go low on air. Tim started to slowly pull away from me before G out alley. By the mid point of G out alley my rear tire went flat. I finally got the ache in my arm to go away before the silt section but then my other hand went numb. With my numb hand and flat tire I really slowed down in the silt section. I bike came by me and it was ( ) from my class who gave me a friendly yell then Bruce Derkinson (also in my class) came by and actually grabbed my shoulder as he went by just to say hi. At the end of the silt section my front tire caught a rut and I hit the ground. I got up quickly and got moving again. There was a two hundred number bike that I caught and while making the pass I over shot a turn and wound up way out in the bushes. I made the pass stick and kept moving. At this point I was really starting to have fun but I had to use the whole track criss crossing back and forth to use every berm. As I got into the six miles in an acre section a four hundred number and a guy and my class had caught up to me. I totally blew the corner leading both of them astray but I pointed them the right direction and got in behind them. I chased they guy in my class and finally made the pass. I put some ground on him but then at the check point he caught up again. I once again turned up the speed and put some more ground on him. In the Little Rio Grande he had caught up again so I was going as fast as I could to stay ahead of him. I could not shake him so when I got out I moved to the side and let up so he could go by. When he went buy I saw the notorious license plate on his Camel Bak and realized it was none other then the famous Jimmie Crawford. No wonder I could not shake him. I continued on as hard as I could even trying to look good for the crowds that were out there watching on the track just after “Herman’s Corner”. I came into the pits but my tire was shot and I knew there was no way I could do another thirty eight miles on a flat after having just beat it up for the past twenty eight miles. I called it a day and watched half of my class go through the pits after me. I was very disappointed because I hate not finishing a race and because I had so much fun. At this point the wind was howling and every pair of goggles that could be found was being worn by all the people trying to pit for their racers. Your could say at the point the race for me blew and sucked. Things got better when I saw my son turn the last corner finishing his first Iron Man race. He was back safe so I was OK. I will be ready for the next one. See you on the flip side.

Dave Sturgess #101
I didn't decide to ride until the Thursday before the
event! I hadn't been seriously off roading for 6
months due to a neck injury. I dug my 450 kx out, old
tires, old oil and pretty beat up. I figured it would
be a good time to try out my helmet camera since I
thought I would probably get last in my class. Checked
the pressure in my tires, and my oil and coolant level
and set off. I did the preride on Saturday and
realized my bike was jetted very rich (took it to
baja) because it wouldnt rap out on the long road.
Luckily I had tall gearing already on the bike 14, 46.
So I leaned the bike out, strapped on a gps unit on
the handlebars and showed up sunday morning. I had
about 50 percent of my usual prerace jitters, drank
some coffee and lined up. The flag waves, my bike
started in gear and I took off. Second to the corner,
first up the hill to pole line, then promptly passed
back, I then returned the favor because he blew the
first right turn off pole line. I settled into a
comfortable pace that I knew I could do all day and
got passed by 4 or 5 guys. Everything went swimmingly
and then I got to the road. I started going through
the gears 88, 89, 90, 91, 92, 92.9 mph on the gps. I
was pretty amazed. I just kept it pinned the entire
way down the road showing the bike no mercy. I was
staring at the gps seeing if I could hit 95 and I hit
a dip slamming my face into the gps. I decided not to
look at it anymore. I passed all the dudes back that
had passed me!. I decided not to gas for my second
lap, although I couldnt see what was in my tank.
Second lap same thing, all routine then 92.9 down the
road. Stopped for gas for my third lap and set off
again. About a quarter of a mile from the road I hear
a guy behind me yelling. I moved to the left of the
rough ass trail but wouldnt slow down. He couldnt get
around me, but I held a clean line to the left. I
figured once I got to the road it wouldnt matter
anyway. I turn onto the road start going through the
gears, get topped out at 92 and I hear this guy
pulling up beside me. I look over and Its Matt Preslar
(my buddy). He's doing at least 96 or 97 mph. I give
him a thumbs up, he flips me off and then proceeds to
spray me with rocks (thanks Matt!) Anyway I finished
up not knowing where I came in and couldnt believe I
won over 30 expert. I think it was actually my gearing
that won it! The helmet camera turned itself off at
the start of the race, and I got nothing
(uuurrrrrggghhhh). I set off to find Matt to tell Him
I owed him one, which means I will just drink all his
beer the next time I'm at his house. Thats my race.
Hope to see you in Cruces!
Dave Sturgess #101
p.s. Tim, I bought a trials bike!!

So the last time that I was really on a dirt bike for any amount of time was Rio Puerco last year, and what happens Saturday morning before the pre-ride my expert idle the great Jimmy Crawford wants to pre-ride with little old me. I'm thinking I've got a new bike that only has 30 or so miles on it and wanted to just cruise through the pre-ride and then change the oil and hope that is a good enough break-in for Sunday's race. Plus not having any practice time in a year, I can't possibly ride the great Jimmy C. Oh well I figured we get on the track and away he would be and I'd see him again in the pits, nooooooot he made me lead,poor new motor!

Sunday morning I fill up the bike, it takes just over 1 gallon and I have a 3 gallon tank. Perfect no pit stop for this Amateur. On the line I hate having a 4-stroke with dead engine start, but wow it started first kick. So surprised I forgot to take off, but still made it to the first corner third. Sorry to the two Kawi guys that ran into the back of me.The dirt and the track where so awesome, just like Jimmy I was smiling the whole way. Until Keith passes me like I'm standing still, did you install nitrous on that old CR? So I spent the next 10 miles trying to get around him again. Then #354 and #359 and I diced it up a couple times,You remember I said no pit for me they both pitted and I thought this was my chance on I went. Second lap was pretty uneventful until about a half mile out from the motorcross section at the pits, my bike starts to slow, what.....whats going on.....oh no I'm out of gas that can't be. Just over 1 gal in the pre-ride and I did two laps in the race that's about 2.5 gals I needed for the race I can't be out. Sure enough I'm out and have to sit there watching my whole class go by me and especially #362 Keith Clark. He was laughing and pointing as he went by, that wasn't very nice. So then he shows up with a little gas to get me back, that made up for the laughing. But later I got to thinking about him laughing and the fact that he showed up right away with some gas,ummm?????

REWARD FOR INFORMATION LEADING TO THE PROOF THAT KEITH CLARK SIPHONED GAS FROM MY BIKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thats my story, Tim#363

Our trip down to Alamogordo Saturday seemed a little delusional. Some stretches felt like we were going boarding instead of racing with the snow falling and all the trees having snowcaps. Things cleared up by the time we reached Gordo and the sand was looking sweet. After winning my ‘sandbagger’ jacket last year, I was going to race my first expert race this weekend. Rex and I found pits near Jeep#361 and Aaron#606 and unloaded. Rex forgot to pre-enter, yet, made it through the tent faster than me. I think the bouncer at the entrance helped by slowing me down. Ha! Just like the races, Keith ;) Though this was my sixth visit to the Tarantula, I was nervous as hell. Everyone geared up and went to tech. When tech was done, I noticed Lucas#66 going out and tried to follow him. Man, he was cooking. I lost sight ten miles in and glanced down at my gas tank….Half a tank?! “Dumbass, you forgot to gas up!” I meandered across the desert back to the trucks to top off. I can still hear the laughing as I departed once more. The pre-ride was educational and consisted of grenaded engines and empty gas tanks along the way.
Later we learned of Paul Luce crashing hard by the corral. Paul’s mom calmed down a bit when we heard that Keith was out there with him. Joe Marquez and I jumped in Paul’s truck and sent out to retrieve the carnage. When we arrived, Keith was still there monitoring Paul’s condition. Paul had come too hot into a corner and high sided right over the berm launching 30’ or so. He complained of a swollen hip and groin and had rang his bell. I could tell by his more comprehendible speech! ;) Keith gave us a condition rundown-Thanks Keith- We loaded up the twisted KTM and Paul and returned to the pits. After assessing his symptoms, the EMT’s ambulanced Paul to town for x-ray’s and other tests. (Paul did return to hang out. Glad he’s OK)
Race morning was upon us and after eating breakfast, I thought that I had control of things. I geared up and fell in line. There were 12 bikes on the line with me. After the dreaded dead bike start, I managed to be 6th into turn one. An angry mob of bikes diced it up in front of me and I ended up following #111 for a while until he started swapping in the deep whoops. I managed to pass him and had already lost sight of the mob leaders. I reached checkpoint one and 30 yards later processed what the volunteer had yelled at me, “where’s your helmet card?” Again I ridiculed myself just as the day before. Two other bikes had been hounding me since the start and after the long paved road, they slipped by me in the checkpoint.
Finishing loop one, I rolled into pit. There was the Mayor(DR) pitting for me! He told me to forget about the helmet card and get going. No one was going to protest last place. I pushed on into my second loop. Half a mile past checkpoint one, I saw a downed bike with Paul Scroggie helping out. I didn’t recognize the rider curled up on his knees but the bike number was 66, Lucas. I pulled off and downed my bike to help out. Another rider, (insert # here), went back to the checkpoint to alert paramedics. When he returned to let us know they were coming, Paul took off. I picked up Lucas’ bike to lay it next to him and give him something to sit up against. Still in gear, I shifted down 4 times to neutral! Dude was hauling @$$! It was a long right hand sweeper and Lucas, knowing he would miss the groove, decided to hop out into the flat field and catch some virgin traction there. One hump kicked him over the bars sending him tumbling. He for sure broke his collar bone. Jokingly, before I left, I told him to get a wife that I could tell back at the pits, “He wasn’t moving when I saw him”. An un-repaid favor I owe him from Shotgun. Paul, I, and (insert#here) didn’t track how long we were stopped, but agreed that it wouldn’t make much difference anyway. The rest of loop two was rigorous but still manageable.
Loop three saw the demise of Pikachu’s ambition. As soon as I hit the tight deep whoop sections, my shoulders and back began to give out. ‘sob’ I reverted back to tractor mode. No more braapp-braapp-braapp. Now rrowr-rrowr-rrowr. Paul Scroggie, who was changing a front flat in the pits, now passed me like I was standing still. I maintained my original speed through the fast whoop and sweep sections but my concentration was now on finishing. And that I did. 6th out of 6 in my class. Who’s sandbagging now?
All in all, no complaints. It was as fun as fun gets. --Marek #100-not #366

Talk about a fun course! This was my first visit to the Dunes and man, am I glad I ride at Southern a lot. The ups, downs, whoops and washes were all pretty familiar terrain, yet brutal for a race course. I can usually cruise through stuff like that but I had to push hard to hit it in race mode. The pre-ride was a meal and a half from all the riders I was behind. I was in so much traffic that I wasn’t sure I’d remember the course the next day. By the time I made it around one loop, I had dropped it once, ran over 3 other guys who dropped it and killed it twice. My arm pump was so bad that I could barely take my goggles off. I was totally disappointed with how out of shape I felt. That night I was bound and determined to get ready for Sunday. I convinced the group that I was with( Rex, Lucas, Jack, June and all their women and kids) that some pasta was in order.(D.R. got me hooked on that). We found a cool place called ‘The Junction’ I think. It was a little Italian place that had all you can eat spaghetti or fettuccini plates. Awesome! Loaded with a bunch of carbs, we hunkered down for the night. Sat. morning we checked out and made our way for the course to the riders meeting. Everyone lost attention for a moment while a sweep rider in the background was having trouble getting up the monster hill by the pits. He finally made it and everyone dispersed to their own pits. Being used to racing first thing, waiting for the C class to finish their race was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. Everyone had that pre-race adrenaline rush all morning so we tried making up for it by watching the race. It worked out pretty well as for the number of riders that were blowing corners, crashing, getting lost, and outright dicing it up was plentiful. And that was right around the pit area! Too bad we couldn’t see the whole course. As our race time crept around, the race to get ready was on. I geared up and fell in with the rest of the grip twisters by the starting gate. It’s impossible to remain still while waiting. Our dear comrade Keith happened to pit right next to wear our class was lined up so he was able to relax, walk around, and ‘oh, is it time to go? Oh hum.’ While the rest of us got to white knuckle our grips with anticipation. I have decided that it’s easier to be in front if that’s where you start so I cheapishly got a jump on everyone as we lined up one by one towards the starting zig-zag. One by one, ten seconds apart made for a pretty smooth go. I was able to get past most or all of the 200cc class in front of us, but as always there’s those guys with no courtesy to hold a line and let you by. As I was behind one of these ‘Sunday drivers’, he also got caught behind his own kind. Pretty soon the bikes started backing up. There was no place to pass as we had made it into some tight single track with steep inclines and descents and no one wanted to eat a tree. It took almost 2 miles to clear it all up. I would have some guys gain on me and pass me in most of the tight technical sections, but they seemed to back off once you got to a wash or some steep hills. That’s where I let my 450 and my desire for speed shine. I came out of the hills once into a wash and let loose. There wasn’t much distance to the next sharp left and incline to get around the guy in front of me so I got up and showed him my fender. He must not have liked it ‘cause he didn’t let up! I yelled out ‘almost made it!’ right before blowing the turn making my own berm outside to get around him. On my third loop, I felt an awkward presence near by. As I turned my head I saw a flippin’ headlight with a little # 4 gaining on me like I was standing still. By then there were a couple of whoop sections that I had started rolling and I was happy to let Kyle Abney by. A few others like Chad Dutton and Daniel Walker also lapped me. ‘Wheeww!’ Only a fourth loop was left for me. With so many mis-matched numbers out there, it was hard tell who was passing me and who I was passing. Every time I came through the start/finish check the LED board said I was in first but I figured ‘of course’ since started first, I was the first each lap to come in and the other lap times weren’t recorded yet. I figured some one that started 40 or 50 seconds behind me might not have passed me, but could still have faster lap times. I’m usually lucky to get a 4^th or 5^th. I had a tear in my eye-or was it a dirt clod- when I finished. I crept back to the trucks almost moaning. My left knee was on fire, thumbs were bleeding and my torso felt like loose rubber band. I thought I gave myself a hernia while gagging some sand out! Low and behold, when the results came out, I was still first! Holy crap! Of course the ‘feces hit the rotary oscillator’ with some other riders but I think it takes more than one or two races to claim ‘sandbagger’. This was my first ‘first’ in NMDRC and I’ll keep it. Thanks NMDRC, WEBE and all the other racers for keeping our sport alive. Like the sticker on my truck says: “life without racing is no life at all”. Of course the other one says: “If you didn’t crash, you riding fast enough”. I think I’ll remove that one. Marek #366

Here’s my version of what the race was like (Race Story)

I know I said I would not practice the Dunes this year, as it didn’t seam to help last year at all. I lied!!!!!!! Pat Hudman and I were out there at least 4 nights a week beating on what we thought was the race course. We were hardening our hands and working the sand corners and hammering the whoops hard. It is a little risky practicing the Dunes, what with BLM breathing down everyone’s neck and everybody and their son riding out there. We had several near misses with other riders going the other direction and so on. We even had encounters with horse riders and foxes. I had to work Thursday so didn’t get out there until Friday morning. Cruised a safety lap to ensure that the course was going to be safe for everyone, stopping and removing man-eating rocks along the way. All of you can’t appreciate that, because you never knew they were there in the first place. I lost count of the roots I cut out and rocks I marked or removed. Those big tires painted orange were not there just by chance, they were covering huge rocks that could not be removed (I call it recycling tires, or moving litter to a useful position). Pretty clever huh?????? Anyway, spent the rest of Friday helping Brett and Curt mark the course with X’s, arrows, and W’s. Man, we put out a lot of course markers. If anyone got lost, then it was purely your own fault. That was truly a great marked course. It rained all night Friday night, but by Saturday morning—the course was beautiful. Everyone knows what rain does to sand---it “fluffs” it and makes it thick and deep. What a great pre-ride!!! I got arm pump so bad I had to stop during pre-ride and shake my hands. I wandered what my hands would do on race day.

Sunday morning was a beautiful day. Went to Prayer meeting and riders meeting, and then------Hah—no race until 10:00. That was great. I thought I would load up and go to Head Canyon Motocross track and bang out a few laps to try to help relieve the arm pump. I did and wound up doing 6 laps at speed, loaded up and rushed back to the Dunes. When we lined up for the race, I was nervous as usual and hoping that my “warm-up” would alleviate the impending arm pump. The single file start was cool; it kept me from getting splashed with mud from the muddy little wash. I rode for a good length of time without arm pump, even managing a pass on Tommy Black in the first few miles. It didn’t last though, I got arm pump really bad about 6 miles in to the first lap and had to move over to let him back around. I was riding dead last in my class and had moved over for several other riders to pass me. Some dude on a Suzuki was flying around the track “out of control” I thought. He would pass me and crash only to be passed back. Then he would catch me and pass again and wad up again. This went on for a while---poor guy. I thought to myself, if he would only slow down a little he would be much better off. Around the middle of the second lap, I had started to regain feeling in my right arm and was getting into a rhythm. I came across Pat Hudman pulled off the side of the track (you can’t miss him with his BRIGHT orange riding gear). His hands must have fallen asleep again. He filed in right behind me. I rode for all I was worth trying to let him think I was alright. I caught up to Tommy Black again and was contemplating where to pass. I was right on his back tire when going down one of the big hills when he brushed against a tree. I brushed against the same tree, but it knocked me off of my bike. Apparently that tree didn’t realize that I own a Stihl Chainsaw and with the flick of my finger could end its life. Next time it does that to me, it’s over!!!!!!!!! Tommy sped away and Pat passed me. I collected my bike (still running) and climbed aboard and took off. I caught back up to them and snuck around. I caught the dude on the Suzuki that was crashing so much and buzzed around him. The next guy to catch was #148 (In my class). He was motoring along pretty good, and a pass was going to be difficult. Lucky for me, he got caught behind a troubled rider on the big hill climb, and I blew by both of them without any problems. I caught and passed a lot of people who I don’t remember the numbers. It was free sailing without arm pump. I knew the course really well and was able to just kick back and fly. My pit crew was awesome and very fast. As I was pulling out—Pat was pulling in. The last couple laps were just fast and flawless. I was especially glad to see the white flag, although I wasn’t expecting it so soon. The checkered flag was even better. The little muddy wash held up much better than last year and the whole course was just awesome. When the race was over, I found myself VERY hungry. I was eating everything in sight. This must have been a hard race, because usually eating is the last thing I want after a race. Did I mention I finished 1st place in the Vet-Pro class!!!!!! Thank you to everyone involved, especially to my friends and sponsor—Denco Racing---for everything they do. Thanks also to: Desert Sports of Farmington (Parts and service), Rio Yamaha of Las Cruces (Bikes), Badlands ATV and Cycle of Las Cruces (Tires and parts), Sun Country Cycles of Farmington (Tubes, lubricants, and goggles), and all of my friends and family who operate our pits. And last but not least, Thank you Patrick Hudman #12 for being the best practice buddy a guy could ever ask for, you rock…………….Good times……Jimmie Crawford #155

Ok here it goes. I wish I could put it into words as good as Jimmie. I think he should be a writer or should be the new NMDRC race reporter.

I really wanted to race this year but didn’t know how to get everything set up and race also. I mentioned this to a couple of folks and the next thing I new I had help with the Sunday morning bike and quad start. Thanks Robbie, Bugs, Matt, Mark, John, and all the other riders that didn’t race but came to the Corralitos and helped out and all the other volunteers.Sunday morning line up, great temperature, and a lot of sun to the east. I told myself to take it easy with the sun and all the dust so just go for a good Sunday morning ride with all the guys. We took off and no dust at all for the first 200 yards, then the watered trail ran out. It’s a desert race so I tried to mentally prepare for the dust. I caught up to a few bikes right away and got around them. I new I had to haul butt before we went over Aden ’s Mountain to the back side and hit the really dusty part. I got into the new 6 miles in the acre section (per Jimmie) and saw #177 up ahead, rode a little over my head to make time and came around a 90 degree corner and saw Jeff #177. It was great; he saw me and was laughing while he put both his feet down to dust me out. Jeff was only going about half speed to let me go by so I was cracking up on this deal (only in NMDRC can you find great guys like this), waved as I went by and continued. Now I new Louis #175 was up ahead some where. I came up to check point 2 and Louis was just going through. As I rounded the corner he saw me a let me go by (thanks Louis). Went through the sweeping curves and headed over the mountain. Saw Tommy Black ahead and figured that was it for passing until the last part of the track. I believe Tommy was not liking the dust and I got around him on the back straight before we go around the back hill. Next was good ol Jimmie #155. Jimmie saw me coming up and waved me past him. Not sure if Jimmie saw it but I was going a little too fast for the next corner and kind of went out in the desert for awhile. I was coming around the back side of the mountain we go around when I came up on Paul Scroggie. I tell you Paul likes a great race. I snuck up by him and he heard my 4 stroke and pinned his 2 stroke, the Race was on. We hit the round road and the good ol 525 KTM pulled the 2 stroke and away I went. The next thing was the silt beads heading straight east into the sun. Somebody was about a 1/8^th of a mile ahead of me and that’s how we stayed for a long time until we got thru G-out ally. I went through check point 3 and saw Pat #12 up ahead, was able to get around him on the hard packed trail and headed to the pits. Came into the pits, got gas, water, and clean goggles (holly cats I could see again)(what a great pit crew we have).The 2^nd lap was clear sailing until I got back to g-out ally and I could see some one up ahead. As I went thru check point 3 and headed out thru the corners I could see it was Conner#11. By this time my knees where starting to ache but I wanted to catch Conner. Conner was hauling but and riding good. I was only able to come into the pits right behind Conner. Thank God for me the race was over, knees didn’t want any more. I had a blast and won my class. The reason I wanted to race this race was because I turned 48 this weekend and wanted to get out and play like a 16 year old. All I can say is thank you God for the health I have and the ability to still do these races. Hope to see you all at Farmington (Jeff and Louis especially). Your riding buddy #190. DJ

Two Corallitos races in less than 5 months, AWESOME. This course was the premium, considering 3 years ago we (DJ and I) drove out there to look at the new “Riding Area” the BLM had just blessed us with and wondered if anything could be made of it at all. We unloaded the bikes and rode along thinking what had we done to the BLM to make them mad at dirt bikes to so generously give us this wasteland and expect us to tame it and race- no less ride- it. I questioned all of the rocks and wash outs and had never seen dust like that. Honestly, there was no part of it that I liked. I think I even told DJ that we should just load up and go home and forget about the whole race thing. He had a vision for it though, even pointing out early on the pit area and mini course.

So, there we were, lining up for the 3^rd annual Corralitos 100. From the safety-ride we had taken days earlier, I already knew that I was going to hate the section past the old windmill/tank (I call it “6 miles in an acre”). After official pre-ride, the quads really fixed that area into a fun section (putting berms on those man-eating corners). I was a little worried about my hands, since a long cold snowy winter had made them soft from no practice. Alamogordo tore my hands up fierce and they have not fully grown back the skin yet. I taped them for the pre-ride, but the tape was so tight it cut off sensation and hands went to sleep. I put a small amount of tape for race day and hoped for the best. The start was cool, flying down the back stretch for everyone to see. I hoped not to screw that up in front of all the spectators. I got through the groomed wet section and into the dust, realizing that nobody could possibly see in this mess of dirt and rising sun mix. I just rode careful and as fast as possible without scaring myself. Louis Pouilot caught me pretty quick in the first lap and I did not want to dust him out, as I knew he was running from DJ and needed all the help he could get. I moved completely off the trail and motioned him around. I suspected DJ was not far behind, so I was watching for him the whole time. The first lap was slow and careful for me as the sun was making it real hard to see in the dust. I was in dust the entire first lap, at times having to slow almost to a stop because I just plain couldn’t see where the trail was and could not remember. It didn’t take long for DJ to catch me and I gave him plenty of room to get by. It’s the first time he has ever passed me since he turned 48 years and 2 days old. It seemed like the next bike to catch me was #10?????? I really didn’t have a lot of time to see, and certainly wandered if it was #10, then what was he doing behind me in the first place???? Oh well, better concentrate on racing. That would be the only bikes to catch and pass me this race. The second lap was better, as the sun was higher in the sky and riding was a lot faster in most sections. Somehow, I caught back up to Louis and he generously waved me around, just as I had done for him earlier. Not sure what happened to Louis, but he was taking it a lot easier than in the first lap. I then caught up to Jo Marquez and after some gracious battling; I managed a pass on him. After the cattle guard crossing in the last 2 miles of the lap, I had a spectacular crash. I had throttled it up in the big sweeping corner just after the first danger sign and g-outs. The rear tire slipped out and I ever so gently laid it over on the right side at full speed. The slide lasted so long, I actually had time to think about how much this was going to hurt and wondered if my whole brake perch would break off, or just the lever. When the sliding had stopped, I got up uninjured, and found the bike to also be unhurt. I kicked her a few times and she fired right up, so away we went. Next to catch---- Dave Sturgess #154. He was behind Paul Scroggie trying for a pass and you could tell they were battling it out good. Dave got around Paul, and then it would be my turn. Oh, I dreaded it!!!!!! Paul clearly did not want me to pass him and was doing every thing he could to keep it from happening (you know “wicking it up”). We even got side by side in one of the corners, and I had to back off- cause he wasn’t. I finally cut Paul off at one of the corners and took off. Now all I had to do was catch Dave and try not hurting myself. He was kicking up a lot of dust when I got behind him in the “6 miles in an acre”. My lucky break was when he killed it in a corner. I took advantage of the opportunity and jetted in front of him where I had clear sky and wide open trail. Dave would follow me all the way to the finish line. I knew if I screwed up even once, he would get the lead back and I would have to follow him. I wound up passing a few other bikes (#53, I think). I saw tidbits of dust in the final lap, but could not imagine who it could be. I finally got a glimpse of a number. It was Tommy Black. I didn’t expect to see him at all during this race. He beat me by over 13 MINUTES in Alamogordo , so I was glad to even get a glimpse of him. I rode like a demon in the last 15 miles to try to close the gap. I knew that Tommy had started 20 seconds ahead of me, so all I had to do was come in behind him in less than 20 seconds. At the final corner when I saw him round the turn for final scoring, I started counting “1 one thousand, 2 one thousand, 3 one thousand”, etc. When I got to the final score point- I was at 11 one thousand, only to find that Tommy had killed his bike at the final turn and was pushing his bike through the transponder receiver. I knew I had beaten him. By my calculations, I should have got him by 9 seconds. But since he killed his bike, the margin was even more in my favor. Wow, a second place finish as an expert class rider. What a race. Thank you to Denco and crews, and our ever awesome pit crew and everyone who contributed to this race. Thank you also to Mesilla Valley Raceway for letting us use the water to groom our track….Good Times…Jimmie Crawford #155

Keith Clark #362
My race! I don’t think you can call it a race. It was more of a Sunday stroll. My race my pre-ride was actually more exciting than the race. After working the sign up trailer I barely made it out for a pre-ride before it closed. I did the first section but it was quickly appear ant that I had not even started my bike since the last race. I have been busy but that is another story. After the road crossing, I came across the number 6 quad who had lost his front sprocket. There was no fixing it so I took my Camelbak off and left it on his bike so I could give him a ride back. After dropping him off at the pits I made my way back to his quad to get my Camelbak back and off I went. I was riding OK but just did not feel like I had any energy. I think I blew every turn on the back “6 miles in an acre” section. As I was approaching the rock hill to traverse from the front of the hill to the back I came upon a female rider who was riding about half my speed. I passed her and went up and over the hill. Another mile into it dropped it over into a small g out. I knew she was coming so I got up quickly and took off. Not long after that I dropped it again in a corner. This time she was close enough to go by me, as I was getting going again. I pushed hard and got by her again. I was riding at what I thought was a slow pace through the flowerbed. As you head toward the lone hill there is a long straight away with a 90-degree right-hander at the end. As I was slowing for the turn I felt the back end of the bike pop and start coming around to the left. It hit the ground and quickly popped around to the right and that is about the time it bucked me off. As I was flying through the air face down looking at the ground pass beneath me it felt like slow motion. In fact I remember thinking to my self as the ground passed beneath me the “I was going alot faster than I thought I was”. Soon after that is when I hit the ground and bounced across the desert like a rag doll thrown out the window of a fast moving car. I landed face down and I would have laid there for a few minutes to recover but I remembered the bike behind me and I did not want her to think I was seriously hurt. I picked myself up off the ground and could immediately feel that my right knee was loose. I have had torn ligaments in my other knee and know what a loose knee feels like. I hobbled over to my bike and picked her up but nothing seemed to be broken. I waived on the other rider and climbed aboard my bike. When I tried to kick her over I realized it hurt quite a bit to try to bend my knee and get it up on the kick starter. My hand was also hurting but it was easy to understand why. My landing pad was not a flow bed, rather it was rock bed with sharp rocks the size of small puppies. I managed to get her started and off we went. It was at that point I realized my other problem. When I would turn my right foot in to step on the brake, first it would be painful in my knee then my lower leg would go numb so I could not feel the brake. I missed a few more turns because I could not grab the brake. I managed to pass the other rider once again but not long after that I dropped it again and she went by. After I got going again and was yelling at myself for not riding better I realized I should just stay behind her because at this rate she will make it around the lap quicker than I would. My male ego would not let that happen so I passed her again and off I went. I did not have any more problems the rest of the lap other then I would occasionally catch my numb leg hanging on to the brake when I was trying accelerate. After the lap I found that it also hurt to try to take my shoes off. It felt like I was pulling my knee apart. My hand was hurting but the swelling was not that bad and I could still grab the throttle. I could stand and kick start my bike so I knew I was good to go for the race. The race was pretty uneventful, I fell once on my second lap due to exhaustion. I could give out all the excuse why I was in such pitiful shape that I had the worst race of my life but they are just excuses. I promise to do more training before the next race. The Dr said I defiantly have a meniscus injury to my knee, the MRI will tell us what it is. Keith

This race sucked!! The pre ride was a good indicator of the race to come, I got a flat about 6 miles in but rode it out anyway just to see the course. So that managed to put a good blister on my hand and make me real sore. The 3 months of not riding had nothing to do with me being sore. Well race day started bad too, somehow I changed my time while setting my alarm so I got up at 3:30 AM and was watching the weather on TV before I realized I was way early. Oh well it gave me time to stop by Wal-Mart and do some shoping on the way to soccoro. Got there with plenty of time to find the loose hubs and fix both of them and check the Craptor over for any other hidden problems, which remain hidden since I couldnt find them. Well the race starts and off I go, I realized something was not 100% just past the cones at the start and I was getting tired so I decide since a real effort was not going to be possible I would cruise the race and help out anybody who needed it and ride behind my only team mate that was racing and see how he was progressing. My plan was working great, I was having fun just cruising it and got to horse around with Chet Jenkins a bit as I let him pass me. I stopped to check on Loretta when she stalled out then she took off after it started and I followed her for a min and was feeling better so I decided to race for a while and took off and passed her back up and made the turn up hill out of the arroyo and it felt weak so I let out of it and she passed me back, hope she didnt think I was messing with her. As I topped the hill Chet was sitting on the side holding his shoulder so I pulled over to see if he was ok and talk for a bit, thats when the Craptor just died. After he streched his shoulder out we were ready to go but when I pushed the starter it just groaned at me and nothing happned. After a few sec of trying that I checked the cables and all looked well. Must be the battery going out, so I figured I would just bump start it so Chet helped me push it to the top of the hill and I told him to go ahead I was fine now. He took off and I pulled the clutch and rolled down the hill, but when I let the clutch out it just started coughing and wasnt evan thinking about starting. Great, for the second time I am left on the side of the course broke completly down. Oh well, I looked at everything I could think of and let it cool down and tried to start it again but no luck, it was not gonna start. Now the fun starts, the first of the rain starts to roll in and I can see the down pour coming two hills over. I start trying to figur out how to stuff myself under the fenders to stay somewaht dry but I am just not gonna fit, so I Take the seat off and try to set it on the sixpack rack to provide shelter. You guessed it, that sucked, so I just put it back on and got ready to be soaked. Thats when I noticed a small out croping of rocks about 100' away on the side of the cliff to the left of the course, it had dry dirt under it and looked just big enough to laydown in. So I started climbing across to the rocks as it began to rain harder and I managed to get ther easy enough but had to take my helmet off to fit in the crack. I squezed back into this little dry spot just as it started to gush down the rain, it was tight and small but I was staying dry. I had a great view of the course and watched everybody go by on the second lap, laughing everytime someone stopped to look down both sides of the dropoff along the course to see if I was down there. Thanks for those who took time to look for me. I guess thats why nobody told the check point I was broke down, they must have thought I was already off the course?? Well after the rain finally stopped I crawled back out of my hiding place and into the light nice and dry, then scaled the cliff back over to the course and waited for the third lap to come by so i could cheer the experts on. I finally head a quad but is way too quite and moving to slow to be Dave Scott, so I knew they must have called the race and it was the sweeper coming to get me. I was suprised we he said he had no idea I was stuck out there, he radioed back and got some help on the way to tow me back in. After a huge effort of pushing the craptor up the hill with help form the rescue guy, he towed me back in (thank very much). As i was being pulled up to my truck, Ben was pulling away to go get me but he managed to find out I was back before he got to far. What a ra