Trail Rider Magazine

the bike in its tracks while I experience an eye bulging tankslapper. By now I am completely unhinged, and long since succumbed to the Downward Spiral. The harder I try, the worse it gets. I am over-aggressive, push the front end in corners, and expend precious energy picking myself off the ground. I stumble along until the checkered flag is out. I park the bike, pitching my helmet into the back of the truck (I wish I took the helmet cam off) and crawl into the passenger seat, soaking wet. Within minutes the windows steam up and I spend the next 15 minutes peeling off my wet gear. Just two days ago I rode the Husaberg in similar conditions. The suspension was dialed and the transmission was converted to close ratio. Everything was perfect and I felt confident that today's events would unfold in the following uncomplicated way: race, collect trophy, go home. When it comes to racing, I have a couple of personalities. I refer to one of them as Even-keeled Kevin. Even-Keeled is the guy that keeps it in perspective, has fun, and generally does alright. The other one I refer to as a Lizard Brain. Lizard Brain is without self awareness and rears his ugly head in extreme cases of frustration. Lizard Brain is unencumbered by self awareness or conventional wisdom. The sapient notion of "slow down and regroup" is beyond Lizards Brains' capacity. Whether Lizard Brain is passionate or plain stupid is irrelevant as he makes bad situations even worse. ward spiral of frustration pulling me into the shallow depths where Lizard Brain makes his dysfunctional home. Somewhere between my initial ice bath and parking my front wheel on the guys front seat, Lizard Brain took over. By now more water is pooling in the ruts and the steam coming off the rotors, coupled with a steady stream of dirty water flying off the wheel in front of me makes scanning the trail a hazardous affair. Apparently I am not alone in this struggle as the Class is going even slower now – and tipping over in greater frequency. I am guessing that the combination of gnarly conditions and a collective off season spent riding the couch is taking its toll on the field. Riders are frustrated, plowing through deep snow and dropping like bowling pins. I am pushing corners, bumping tires, and using more fuel for the panic rev than forward motion. The downward spiral is sucking us in by the dozen and the result is perpetuating the craziness. As I round the final corner two riders are being separated by friends and spectators. I knew I had a crap day but I didn't actually punch anyone out. This altercation would later reignite in the parking lot. Moreover, I heard that some guy actually kicked another rider while on a 4th gear straight away? What kind of Defective, nut job would so such a thing? I know who does it, someone that gets sucked into the Downward Spiral. After a power bar, turkey sandwich, snickers bar, ½ bag of skittles and minimal brain activity, Even-Keeled cut through the fog and makes a cameo: "Hey dumass, this is for fun, remember? Did you forget about maybe doing a race report on this bike you've just thrashed? Get a grip – and maybe a new perspective, your current MO is worthless. Regroup in the second moto and have fun!" A few hours later I am on the starting line, a new man and ready to roll for moto two. I am blissfully centered, at peace with my first moto debacle and ready to right the wrongs. The flag drops and the 'Berg flashes to life. Great! I round the first corner in about fifth place and decide to go wide of a deep, icy puddle. The meatball next to me however, has a different idea and splits the middle of the ice bath with the finesse and grace of a bull dozer, showering me with freezing water. Ice water streams down my shirt chilling my core. My goggles are now useless and I am shaking like a leaf. We are no more than ¼ mile into the woods when the guy in front of me tips over. I park my tire on his seat and tip over as well. Riders scramble to either side of us, showering us in more wet snow. Ugh, another moto of slugging it out in the back! I fall into line again only to have the rider immediately in front of me tip over and block the trail. And then I feel it; that down- April 2013 5

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