Trail Rider Magazine

as we search for our water bottles, I grab his hand awkwardly in lieu of a public apology. There is a NETRA race next weekend, the first one since the Spring Challenge, so for practice, we all decide to do six laps of the track without stopping, dead-engine start and all. Pulling up to our makeshift line, I feel content to let the experienced riders slug it out while I bring up the rear where I belong, but as Greg counts down from three to one, a suppressed canine instinct devours this reasonable decision and I wheelie spastically for the holeshot. Attempting to shift into second, I find neutral instead, and then, for reasons which are still not clear to me, the KDX seems to vanish from between my knees. I land on my back just in time to see Greg hit his brakes behind me and sail over his handlebars: the KTM pitches harmlessly into the trees, but Greg is headed straight for me. I reach out with the combined intention of breaking his fall and keeping him from breaking my ribs, and this leaves us lying on the dirt with my arm around his shoulders like we've settled in for a romantic evening of stargazing. Greg leaps to his feet, totally unamused, but Chris and Jared are cackling with glee. Much to my surprise, I'm laughing with them. "That was priceless," says Jared. "If I had been wearing my GoPro..." Greg, Chris and Jared zoom off and I restart my lap alone in the woods. It's a fairly long track, and the "race" is on-no one will be waiting up ahead for me, or worse, stuck behind me, if I do something stupid. My whole focus is on finding my line to the next corner, maintaining my form— and as if by magic, I stop hyperventilating and my blood pressure drops by 100 psi. Without even trying, I've re-entered the hypnotic racing Zen that allowed me to survive the NETRA Spring Challenge without punching any spectators, even though I got stuck up to the handlebars fifteen times. My first lap goes by without major incident, then my second lap--sure, I fall, but the track is long enough that, even if the same rooty uphill throws me every lap, I have time to catch my breath and stop berating myself before I have to tackle it again. Greg blows by me on my fourth lap, and, as I'm coming down the switchbacks from the top of the track on lap five, I see a flash of blue behind me--Jared's Yamaha. I consider stopping and letting him pass, but I know from experience that if I turn my racing tunnel vision on anything but the track, my flow will be gone for good. Besides, I think, he's not exactly knocking into my rear tire yet, is he? I decide to wait to let him pass until it would be rude not to, and to forestall this as long as possible, I push aside my fatigue, stand up, and remind myself to twist the throttle. Half a lap later, Jared yells "YOU'RE DOING GREAT!" as he sneaks past me on a straightaway. My last lap is perfectly clean, and when I get back to the truck, I feel almost pleased with myself. Everyone concludes that it was a fun day, and we drive off into the sunset feeling accomplished. As I approach the one year anniversary of the first time I was on a bike, it is becoming apparent to me that my greatest, or at least loudest challenge as a rider will not be keeping my elbows up or weighting the proper footpeg, but simply keeping my own frustration from ruining my day—actually, the day of everyone within earshot. I'm trying, honestly—but I'm failing, consistently. In the interest of journalistic integrity, I must tell you that, the day after this happy venture at our friend Bruce's track in Bethel, I went to Chris and Greg's track in Berlin and dumped my bike on one horrible hairpin turn so many times I almost passed out from rage (the Short Fuse amounts to a terminal genetic condition in my family, and my case is worse than most). If anyone out there has any anger management tips, please send them my way before I get committed, or dumped, or politely disinvited from riding with anyone ever again. I know there's a copy of How to Win Friends and Influence People lying around here somewhere--I will have to add that to my cross-training regimen along with mountain biking if I don't get a handle on this soon. May 2013 35

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