|
Page 1 of 2
Words: Dean Devito
Photos: Ravi Swamy
 Rally noob tackles East Coast Sand Rally…on a KLR
As riders, there are always things that we are good at…and those with which we need a bit of improvement. Personally, I have passable skills with the handlebars in my palms, but have the innate sense of direction of a blind newborn; no GPS, road map, or divine intervention can save me from getting lost. While this makes for interesting, and often enjoyable road trips, it is a disastrous trait for an entrant in his first rally race.
To thicken the plot, my team mate, good friend, and riding buddy has a keen sense of direction, but will, without a doubt, be late to his own funeral. Not a promising team composition for a race that requires navigation on public roads, and checking in at a prescribed time after each stage
For those not familiar with the growing sport of Rally Racing, it is a point to point race against the clock; similar to the well known Baja 1000 and Dakar Rally. Passes happen, but ultimately you’re on your own, and your Special Stage times are what score your finish. There are penalties for checking in either too late, or too early, and a few other odds and ends that can quickly take away the benefits your hard work and deft riding during a timed stage have given you. A daunting proposition, no doubt, for an American in a culture that is used to racing in circles, and counting down laps to a win.
This was the Sandblast Rally, in Cheraw, SC, and part of the newly formed RallyMoto™ series. Sanblast is part of 5 race series that has 4 dates on the East Coast, and one in Nevada. RallyMoto™ is run in conjunction with the car rally races. The bikes ran the stages first, followed by the cars this year. All vehicles are followed by sweep truck that clears the course, and ensures everyone that began the stage is accounted for.
The Sandblast started as a car only rally in 1991, and last year was the first year they included bikes in the event. "I was surprised, as the bike guys really seemed to latch onto the rally spirit right away...that is to press on regardless," said the event chairman Anders Green. "When you are in the middle of the woods, there is no one else to count on except your fellow competitors if there is a problem...that is what makes rally unique and bonds rally competitors more than other types of racing."
 The rally was to cover roughly 200 total miles in one day. Seventy miles were “Special Stages,” and held on closed, deeply rutted sand which would be timed for finishing order. The other 130 were transits on open public roads that connected riders from the end of one Special Stage to the beginning of another.
Since the race included public roads, bikes are required to be 50 state legal, and must be inspected for the usual DOT required equipment before the rally. It seemed like great time for a fresh set of knobbies on the trusty Killer; my 2003 KLR 650.
Sure, a KLR isn’t the first image that comes to mind when the words ‘race bike’ are uttered, but no one thought Chris Farley could dance alongside Patrick Swayze until the now (in)famous Chippendale’s skit on Saturday Night Live. He surprised all of us when he shook his moneymaker, and I planned on doing my damnedest to put the KLR across the finish line respectably.
What I didn’t plan on, however, is how badly I would have butterflies in my stomach before the race started. I was so nervous that I was afraid to eat as I thought I’d see it again far too soon. I managed to choke down my oatmeal, and nervously talked to my team mate, Tim, incessantly in the Parc Expose that preceded the start of the rally. He asked if I always talked when I got nervous. I responded with something like, “Yeah, but, what tire pressure you running, where are the time cards, are you sure we haven’t gotten them yet…lemme go ask, yep we didn’t get them….” Tim was a good sport despite my nerve induced verbal diarrhea.
Bikes pulled out at 30 second intervals for the first transit of the day that would carry us to the beginning of the first timed stage. Navigation by roll chart proved to be much easier than I thought, and after making the first few turns successfully my biggest fear was soothed. Ample time for the transits was allotted as the Rally organizers wisely make every attempt to discourage speeding on public roads; saving the speedy behavior for the sand.
Arriving at the beginning of the first stage was a relief, since I saw dozens of other bikes already there. This meant that my first transit was a success and I was in the right place and was ready to race. The first timed stage was just short of 15 miles long, and we were again sent out at 30 second intervals.
Two miles in, I made my first pass. I was screaming with enthusiasm, and was sure I was the fastest guy out there. I remembered some words of advice that “you don’t win it (a rally) during the first stage,” but I felt like I had. I was feeling good at my pace; especially since at mile 8 or 9 I had been passed only once, and that was by a bike that was in a faster class.
However, reality quickly set in when sometime around mile 10 when I was freight trained by a conga line of 4 bikes. To add insult to injury, one of them was my team mate, Tim, who had started a full 2 minutes behind me. My delusions of spraying champagne and kissing the trophy girl seemed dead in the water at mile 11 of the first stage. Ironically, it seemed to inspire my right wrist to twist more, and I upped my pace and stepped marginally out of my comfort zone…this was a race after all, and the proper venue to push a bit.
 I am a member of C.O.D. (Cult of Dirt) Racing, damnit…a name that is a throwback to the successful Cult of Force road race team that Tim used to run in the WERA circuit. However, after a few hard miles on sand, it seemed to be more like COD Racing, as in the fish, because the bikes flopped around like epileptic fish out of water as they fought for traction, and to stay upright over the ruts in the sand.
At the end of the stage I had my time card signed, and met up with Tim who had finished a bit in front of the Killer and me. We decided to hook-up and ride together to the next stage even though Tim was grinning from ear to ear because he caught and passed me even though he started with a 2 minute deficit. I just smiled at him, and then flipped him the bird when he turned around and looked the other way. With the exchange of niceties out of the way it was off to Stage 2.
Again, I started 2 minutes in front of Tim, as the starting order remains the same. Stage 2 was a shorter 9 mile stage and by this time I knew the pace, and the butterflies had long flown and left me alone. Now that I was more relaxed I realized racing the KLR was proving to be more fun that I had imagined. I was getting used to the uneasy feeling of never having traction due to the sand, and skimming, sometimes not so gracefully, over and around ruts. It seemed easier, faster, and safer to go fast enough to stay above the uneven ground like a boat on plane in choppy water.
Stage 2 was a blur, and I managed to keep all but 1 rider that started behind me back there. Other riders may have made up time on me, but not being passed helped boost my confidence a bit. The best moment of the stage for me was when I saw a crowd of spectators and a camera man, and was able to hold a long slide in front of them exiting a sweeping corner. I felt like a racer, and the Killer like a race bike. This was unlike any feeling I had ever had on a motorcycle, and the first time I had ever put on a show for the fans. It may not have been that impressive, but that’s how I remember it, anyway.
As the pace of the rally set in, the seeming maze of time cards and check points started to make sense and the navigation wasnot nearly as difficult as I had feared. I had never ridden the Killer so hard, and rarely saw the tach below RPM’s that would have seemed excessive on my commute. The transits were a good time to catch your breath and steal a drink from the Camel Back; but I found myself impatiently waiting for the next timed stage, and then silently cursing them when I saw the time checkpoint signs at their conclusion.
<< Start < Prev 1 2 Next > End >>
|
