Issue link: http://trailridermagazine.uberflip.com/i/122626
make nominal forward progress, relishing moments spent on the pegs, cursing the cross ruts and the rain, and stopping to recharge my batteries after every crappy uphill. At the 7-mile mark, the trail curved close to the pits before looping back into the woods for another couple of miles. There were some spectators there holding umbrellas and I stopped, took a look towards the EZ Ups and decided I just wasn't having fun any more. That was it for me. I cut through the woods, slipped and slid up pit row to my pit and called it a day. 25 miles and my race day was shot. At least I know my bike thanked me! The last time I willfully quit a race was a decade and a half ago at a rutted muddy hare scramble in Westmoreland, KS. I was riding a 501 Husaberg at the time and buried it in a trench in a vain attempt to pass another guy who who'd already pile driven his bike into a bottomless pit. I tried to drag the bike out but couldn't get it on its side. I horsed the front end up so it was pointed straight up in the air and the bike wouldn't even fall to one side. It sucked digging the 'berg out with tree limbs for a shovel. Needless to say, I wasn't having any fun that day, and I wasn't having fun at the Off Road Cup either, at least not enough fun to keep torturing myself and the KTM. Relegated to spectator status, I watched other riders painfully making their way to their respective pits. I'd seen the look on their faces before, the look of utter despair and exhaustion, on the History Channel. Watch the World War Two shows about the German offensive into Russia and look at the Wermacht soldiers after their surrender at Stalingrad. Hollow eyes with not a glimmer of hope remaining. The Soviet gulags awaiting the German troops were probably more accommodating than the Missouri mud and goo. The "race of attrition" was accumulating victims at a steady rate. I made my way over to Ron Ribolzi and Steve Underwood's pit, and by "made my way" I mean that it took me almost 5 minutes to slog the 50 yards from my pit to theirs. Forward locomotion required small steps, hopefully planted in the shallowest available footprint in the mud. Lifting each foot meant breaking suction, so it was a workout to say the least. Steve was waiting for Rocket Ron to show up and we chatted about his Six Days experiences. He rode Italy in '82 and then waited 20 years before doing it again in Czechoslovakia. He said the Czech ride was actually a fluke as he was taking a couple of younger guys to the qualifiers so they could try for the team and he wound up riding the qualifiers just for fun. In the end, he qualified for the JAFMAR senior team with Jeff Fredette and his two younger pals didn't make the cut. Steve rode a 525 KTM in Czecho and lost the clutch slave cylinder about halfway through the week. He soldiered on until Day 5, which, as he said pointing to the sloppy mess in front of us, was "pretty much like this all day." With no clutch he spent all day getting killed on hills and finally houred out trying in vain to repair the slave cylinder. But, like any other Six Day vet, he wouldn't trade anything for the opportunity to ride. Ribolzi came in and Steve hopped on his YZ250 and took off. 28 Trail Rider Ron told his other team mate, Kevin O'Brien, that he spent most of his lap in 1st gear, so it made me feel a little better to know that a guy with half a dozen Six Days under his belt was suffering, too. Ribolzi had Kevin peel his muddy jersey off, grabbed a drink, and then recognized me. His eyes got big and glazed over… he got this rabid dog look on his face as he twisted his right hand and yelled, "Pin it! Just F-ing pin it!" We had a good laugh and then chatted about ISDT Reunion Ride stuff for a few minutes, particularly about how much we missed Ron's old boss, Dave Mungenast, Sr. "Senior", as Ron always calls him, was one of a kind. If you were a motorcyclist you automatically went to the head of the line in his book and became a lifelong pal. If you ever find yourself in St. Louis, head down to Dave Mungenast's Classic Motorcycles Museum. It is just plain awesome and well worth an afternoon of your time. About this time the trail boss came walking, I mean sliding, through the pits announcing that they were going to call the race after 6 hours instead of the scheduled 8. There were throngs of broken down bikes in the woods, they were afraid they wouldn't be able to get everyone pulled out before dark, and the parking lot would be a monumental challenge. A 4-wheel drive fullsized Kubota tractor and a huge Case 2290 tractor were already struggling to pull vehicles out to the road, and I saw a D-8 bulldozer being warmed up as well. When you see a lifted 4-wheel drive F350 diesel buried to the floorboards you know it's gonna be a long afternoon. When the checkered flag dropped it was the hometown Missouri Off Road Events (MORE) team of Steve Leivan, Cole Kirkpatrick and Zach Ingram taking top honors. They completed 14 laps and their nearest competition only managed an even dozen, so they won it going away. Steve is multi-time Missouri Hare Scrambles Championship (MHSC) champ and his team mates likewise clean up in every local and regional race they enter. They put on an impressive ride, to say the least. Their opening lap times were a shade over 21 minutes and even by the end they were still clicking off laps at a rate of one every half hour or so. Great ride! Equally impressive was Caleb Wohletz riding the Ironman class for Moto Europa and representing the MHSC He was 10th overall behind a bunch of pro teams and completed 11 laps, no easy task when you are by yourself and don't have two other guys to spell you while you regain your wind. My pal Ron Ribolzi and team mates Steve Underwood and Kevin O'Brien, riding for the MORE group as Team AARP, took home top honors in the plus50 class with 10 laps under their belts. Not to shabby for a bunch of old guys! With cooperation from Mother Nature, the Off Road Cup would have been an awesome way to spend a Saturday. Unfortunately the rain and ensuing mud did make it a battle of attrition….and only the strongest and ablest riders finished. This the first year the ORC was held in Missouri. The two previous ORCs were held in Shreveport, LA and Prentiss, MS. If it's in Missouri again next year I'll sure give it another shot…with the caveat that if the weather sucks again, I'm just going to spectate! Did I mention I really hate mud riding? www.TrailRider.com