John and I rode down to Floresville to check out the motocross track there. I'd heard from a friend that it was a really good one, and I needed to do a long ride to test my new saddle, so off we went. It was 42F when we left, so I also got to try out my new electric jacket and glove liner. Mmmmm, warm.
The sun had just risen, and the bike was prepped.
Here's John on his new-to-him '97 F650. He just got it this weekend.
We took a roundabout route to Seguin and looked for a breakfast place. John attended college here, and he says it's gone downhill. Something along the lines of, "Damn wal-mart and home depot on the edge of town, and the downtown is dead!" We ended up eating here.
It was pretty good. The nice thing about these small town places is the prices are low.
We left town and cruised south towards Floresville and saw what looked like some happy cows in a nice pasture...
Wrong! They were next in line for the feedlot, where they'd be stuffed with god knows what, wallow in their own excrement, then be slaughtered and turned into food for us. It almost makes you want to stop eating meat. Also, we had just finished breakfast, the ripe, pungent stench of a 30 acre feedlot - think 6 inches of mud, piss, and shit - wasn't very appealing. We were "downwind" at this point, so the photos were hurried.
Here we are entering Cycleranch. It turns out there was some big race there. Pros, and lots and lots of people.
Here's one little section where the campers were. There was a lot of three things: people, dirtbikes, and mud.
Mmmmm, mud. Kind of looks like a feedlot...
At the start. Wow was that loud. 50 large chainsaws buzzing away, full tilt.
So the race started, and we rushed to the bleachers...
This was the view. It seemed like a nice little track. No one else seemed interested. I thought, "Man, these are pro motocross riders. There are people milling around all over the place. No one seems to care!" Well, I wasn't going to miss anything. They lowered the gate the racers took off.
This dude biffed. The track was easily 8" deep with mud in many parts. It was really slow, but these guys were still hauling through it. As they would go down this hill, they would hit all these bumps and their front wheels would get yanked around. They would crouch on the foot pegs, and their body was perfectly still, like it was riding on a rail. It was amazing to see them do it.
I cropped this one, hopefully you have a big monitor. If not, sorry. It captures the way they moved across the field of view.
So I figured out why we were the ones that were the most excited. One, the race wasn't three or five laps long - it was TWO HOURS. These guys ride this course full tilt for two hours. That is nuts. The other thing is the course is huge. It's five miles long! So the things snaked all over the place.
Not *quite* Iwo Jima, but close.
Look at this guy, and look at that mud!
Another mud monster.
So with the race being two hours, I wondered how they kept the bike fueled and running so long.
Answer: With a really cool pit area.
Pretty sweet eh? While the riders were covered in mud, the pit guys were immaculate.
Here the pit guys cheer as the leader goes by. Notice how clean he is...
This guy screwed up and failed to get over on the grass for his pit stop. No matter, they ran out and gave him fuel. Notice the guy with the air hose. He would rush out first and blast all the mud away from the fuel tank nozzle. Then they'd jam that tank on top, and gravity would pull the fuel into the bike. It was maybe a ten second stop. God, I'd love to pull into a gas station, pause, get gassed up then take off again.
Slightly bigger pic. Wooooo!