No Exceptions

If you thought the “we’re all going to die” rule didn’t apply to you, or that an exception would be made in your case, you are mistaken.

You are here now.  If there is something you wanted to do, you better get started.

Long race

How long will you persist in achieving the best you are capable of?  

Don’t give up in the middle of the race.

Accountability by Declaration

When you start on a big goal, tell people about it.  It locks in your full commitment since you announced it publicly.

If some people support you, it helps.  If they laugh at you, it gives you fuel to prove them wrong.

What do others know you are working on?

Do something you are proud of

It’s important to feel good about yourself, whether you are having a tough time in your life or if things are going well. The best way is to do something you are proud of that fits in with what you love or value.

This is true for kids, teens, and adults.  Do something everyday you are proud of – however small.

What did or will you do today?

Dreams require work

Other people have had the same dream you have.  Probably many others.  For some, the dream came true. For others it did not.

A dream doesn’t come true just because you want it to.  You have to do something to make it come true. Often, you have to do a lot.  A dream won’t work to get to you – you have to work to get to it.

What did the people who have had this dream come true do? What are you doing?

"I don't feel like it right now"

If you wait to do what you should or must to make your future better until you “feel like it” or are “in the mood” or “inspired right now”, you’ll likely not make much progress.

Self-discipline is a master quality of high achievers, and self-disciplined people do what they must even when they don’t feel like it.  They get to work, and what they find is by getting going on it even when they don’t feel like doing it, soon enough, they get into it and FEEL like doing it because they ARE doing it.

How about you?

"Dust to Glory"

(Continued…)

As the sun rose over the mountains, Tanner raced away from Javier who had just saved the race again by installing a new headlight.  We wouldn’t have to worry about the electrical system burning up.  In all the excitement, was it 90 seconds Tanner had to make up, or two or three minutes? Whatever it was, he had only 40 miles to do it.  285x had a fresh rider, and Tanner was battle worn from running 410 miles by now.

No matter, he tapped into all he and the bike had, each foot of unforgiving terrain presenting him a new definition of what the limit was.  He saw blood in the form of dust in the distance ahead.  He caught the dust and tried to remain stealthy, so as not to alert the rider ahead of his presence until it was absolutely necessary.  A good rider on an 8 foot wide road can weave and block a pass if he knows someone is behind him. Tanner looked at the course ahead and picked his moment, and roared by.  But 200 yards later, the next crisis began.

There was a 3-way fork.  Straight clearly had a green wrong way sign, typically used on the course.  The left had a green wrong way sign that was knocked down and facing up, and the right had no sign.  Tanner went right.  285x followed him.  He raced ahead four miles and saw no orange course marker signs.  Oh no.  Another fork, unmarked.  He picked right.  He thought if he was going the wrong way, the faster he went the faster he’d find out.  Another 1/4 mile and a barbed wire fence was across the road.  He locked both brakes and spun around.  As he started back, he passed 285x skidding to a stop.  He went back the 1/4 mile and took the left fork.  It went to the same place as the right fork.  He stopped, and 285x stopped alongside him.  He turned to go back to the 3-way intersection.  On the way he passed 318x who followed them both down the wrong way.

At the 3-way, this time he picked left – the way with the downed wrong way sign.  It took him 200 yards to realize it was not right – there were no tracks like on the race course.  He stopped. 285x saw him from the intersection, knew it wasn’t right, and turned down the middle – the last option with the wrong way sign that was up.  Both riders knew it was the only way it could be. Now 285x was in front yet again.

Why would there be a wrong way sign at the correct way?  Two reasons.  Some mischievous locals change signs to mess with vehicles and watch what happens.  Or, sadly, a leader who knows he’s ahead could stop and change the signs so he can’t be followed easily and extend his lead.  We think it was the latter for reasons to be explained another time.

Sure enough, Tanner started seeing orange course markers.  Somebody had changed the signs. He had to catch 285x again.  As he pulled closer, a speed zone sign came up.  A speed zone is a speed limit through houses or a ranch.  It was 37 mph, and if you violate it you get penalized.  Neither rider wanted to get penalized and lose the race that way. Tanner was 200 feet behind.  In the speed zone there were some 90 degree turns that 285x slowed down below 37 mph to make. Tanner swept these turns wide so he didn’t need to slow down, and he caught up with his front wheel next to the leader’s back wheel.  In this way they proceeded, awkwardly, like two opposing soldiers in close quarters unable to attack each other.

Then 318x came speeding up, obviously violating the speed limit.  When he saw the two bikes ahead going slow he realized it and fell in behind them, three bikes now nearly side by side. Suddenly, 285x took off.  Did the speed zone end?  Tanner did not see a sign that it had and didn’t want to lose on penalties.  We had decided in advance to ride a very clean race.  He let him go and stayed at 37 mph for another TWO miles!  Not seeing any signs, he decided the speed zone must be over, and let it rip. He was now way behind – again.

Digging deep, he raced through the hills at 100% – the bleeding edge.  Would he make a mistake and end it all?  He caught up AGAIN.  The course dropped down to a new superhighway that was under construction and unpaved.  This was about 3 miles where you could find out how fast your bike would go. Both riders unleashed every horse out of their Honda 450x motors. They accelerated to speeds that blow your motocross helmet back.  Motocross helmets have an open face and a big visor you can tip down to keep the sun, or dirt blasted from another rider’s wheel, out of your face.  At 100 mph it’s a sail, and it’s all you can do to keep your head forward.

Side by side they hit the highest speeds these specially geared desert racing machines would go. Tanner tucked in tighter than 285x and crept ahead – he was in the lead with the town of Ensenada and the finish line ahead, where I waited, anxious, thinking and praying for my son.  I knew it was a high speed section, because it was the same section I had going out at the start – but I wasn’t racing for the finish.  A crash at these speeds could be catastrophic.

There was a highway bridge under construction.  At the edge of the concrete bridge to the unfinished dirt highway transition, there was a curb of dirt.  At 100 mph things come up very fast.  Tanner saw it, and so did 285x only one second behind.  Who would have the courage and skill to survive it without slowing down much?  285x slowed.  A bump like this, 10″ high, would kick the rear wheel up and throw the rider over the handlebars.  Spectators lined the course in this dangerous point to watch.

Tanner used his motocross instincts.  He pushed down into the bump with his legs, goosed the throttle wide open, and pulled up on the handlebars as hard as he could, keeping his butt as far off the seat as possible so when the rear end came up it didn’t eject him.  He sailed six feet off the ground for 120 feet in what was surely a moment of awe for the spectators. He pulled a gap on 285x.

As the road narrowed into town, Tanner thought there may be a 60 mph speed zone as there was on most roads in the course.  You would not be able to see an 8″ x 10″ speed zone sign at 100 mph. In all this mayhem he had to make a decision.  Not wanting to get penalized, he slowed to 60 mph. 285x sped by! There was his answer, there was no speed zone. Again, he was behind!

He wished the race were 50 miles longer.  He raced to catch him again.  Now they were in town. They had a few turns on concrete roads, drop down into the riverbed for a mile, pop up onto the street again, and three turns on streets to the finish.  Tanner decided not to try to make another pass until they got into the dirt riverbed.  Knobby tires are not made for concrete and the braking is very bad.  The streets were damp with morning dew and turning was treacherous.  He stayed on 285x’s fender, blasting through town.

“Miracle Mile”

They took a right turn off the street and dropped into the riverbed. Both riders summoned all the horses yet again.  Tanner knew he could rely on his skills on dirt.  He went to make a pass on the left.  The leader anticipated it and closed the door.  Tanner went around to the right, but there was a left turn coming up.  No matter.  He shifted up to fifth and showing more courage than his competitor, passed him on the outside.  Here comes the turn…80 mph…he downshifted to fourth and flat tracked the bike around the turn at high speed, shifted up to fifth and gave it all the bike would go.  The riverbed is in the middle of town, with city bridges overhead.  Spectators lined the sides and cheered from the bridges, now seeing a real race to the finish.  

Promoters built a long (safe) jump with a blow up Red Bull arch over it in the riverbed for drama. Tanner hit it at maximum speed, sailing perhaps 130 feet.  He held the throttle wide open.  Under a few more bridges, and ahead was the ramp up out of the riverbed.  He slowed for the 90 degree left turn at the top but not too much to allow 285x an opening, he blew the turn…curb…he jumped the curb while turning, now on a totally different surface, a wet concrete city street.  One block, right, two long blocks, high speed with throngs of fans lining the streets.  One more turn…

I waited at the finish, my eyes fixed; knowing the last turn was like ice.  The 285x team was there like we were – all five other riders and the crew, standing next to us.  Who will come around first? Would he slide out?  A bike came around the turn and stalled when surprised by the slippery conditions. Fans ran out of the crowd and push started the bike.  He raced to the finish.  It wasn’t Tanner…or 285x.

A minute later another bike rounds the corner.  I recognized his body.  It was Tanner!  I screamed and shook in joy!  Tanner raced the half block up to the finish, cameras and microphones waiting.  

285X rounded the corner and slid out on the slippery pavement and crashed in the street.  He got his bike picked up and came in, 60 seconds behind us!

Tanner pulled up onto the stage…a picture of the 214x on the jumbotron.  A finish line girl gave Tanner a medal and he put it around my neck.  Another around his.  My head tapped his helmet as I hugged my son.  

We had won, the Baja 1000!

Heart

(Continued…)

Tanner turned into the dirt with 285x 90 seconds behind him.  I jumped in Chase truck 2 and headed for the finish line.  Tanner was scheduled to stop at a pit for fuel two miles in.  A pit service called “Baja Pits” sets up along the course to fuel vehicles every 50 miles or so.  Our bike can only go about 75 miles on a tank of gas.  They put a sign out along the course for you to see, but sometimes these trophy truck pits set up all over the place can camouflage the Baja pits.  I missed a pit once and we had to fuel at the truck instead.  

I sat in Chase 2 wondering if Tanner would make his pit.  If he didn’t, we were done.  And would 285x pass him when he stopped at it?

Tanner did make his pit quickly, and he held the lead.  Then, another crisis.  The front headlight assembly, two 8″ round lights in a metal cage, started bouncing up and down, coming loose.  It got worse.  Tanner tried to take smooth lines, but it bounced more wildly as he progressed. Thoughts went through his mind – what to do?  He thought of stopping and ripping it off – the sky was beginning to get lighter now, but it was still dark and he needed light. He also knew that the race bike had a big stator to generate more power for the lights.  If you ran the bike without lights it would burn up the stator and the bike could stop.  

Metal parts broke off the frame and went flying.  285x was back there close.  The 17″ wide light assembly finally detached from the bike and dangled by the wire.  Tanner stopped, took his helmet, neck brace, pack and jacket off.  He had a “Tough Mudder” pullover on under his jacket. He took it off and used it to tie the lights back on the front of the bike.  285x went by.  Then a new bike, 318x (not in our class) went by. Tanner put his gear back on as fast as he could, and raced forward. 

It is often said in the sport that a rider who rides at 101% of his ability will crash a lot and his career will be short.  Tanner and I ride at 97%, and we survived to this point.  But this was the last leg of the Baja 1000.  It was time to go beyond 97%.  Tanner tapped all his skills, and power slid around dusty gravel turns in forth gear trying to catch up.  The problem now?  Dust.  318x was creating so much dust it was hard to see.  He’d mount a charge, only to have to let off and sometimes come to a near stop to be able to see.  

He mounted another charge, same result.  Another, and he was blinded by dust and the first rays of sun coming through it.  All of a sudden, bang, he was in a giant rut up a steep hill that he could not see.  He was stopped.  The rut was 18″ deep, filled with boulders.  He struggled to get out.  It took a full minute.  He remounted and continued his pursuit.

The next time 318x appeared ahead, he charged the dust again.  He broke through to get close enough where the dust coming off the wheels of the bike ahead was below his line of sight.  He stayed close, picked a moment, and flew by.  Now he could pursue 285x with a clear track until he got into his dust.  The sweatshirt holding the lights on was coming loose and the light was bouncing again.  Could he catch him?

Our plan was that Javier in Chase Truck 1 would meet Tanner at the last checkpoint at mile 782 just to check on Tanner.  We expected no problems and that Tanner would give Javier a thumbs up and keep going.  Javier waited.  

There are 95 virtual checkpoints “VCP’s” on the course.  A VCP is a 100 foot circle on a GPS map that you have to go through. You don’t see anything in the field, it’s just an electronic waypoint.  You have a transponder on the bike and they track your every move within two feet to assess penalties later. If you miss a VCP it means you went off course – most often to take a shortcut, and you’ll be assessed a 10 minute penalty.

There are seven physical checkpoints.  They are rows of orange cones that lead you into a place where you have to come to a full stop, they take your number and time, and you go.  The speed limit is 15 mph for the 200 feet before a physical checkpoint.  If you violate the speed limit, you are assessed a 30 minute penalty! If you miss a checkpoint, you are out of the race.

People around the checkpoint got excited.  They heard a bike coming.  Javier could not believe what he saw.  285x rolling into the checkpoint at 15 mph, with our 214x directly alongside him! Tanner had caught up!  After the checkpoint, Tanner rolled up to Javier with his sweatshirt around the dangling, broken, over-sized Baja light assembly. They had to change it – fast!  285x sped away on course.  90 seconds later, Tanner chased after him yet again.

Would he catch him with just 40 miles to go?

Continued tomorrow….

Night Moves 2

Continued…

I saw lights coming up behind me.  They told us when a trophy truck is approaching behind you to pull over on your own terms way ahead of time, and not wait for one to run you over.  I did and it roared by, filling the air with a dust curtain.  Your headlights on dust is a recipe for zero visibility. I kept moving forward into the night wondering if Tanner would get to our next rider change before me.  The course met the last section of the crossover road – there were tons of chase vehicles moving slow making so much dust it was hard to see.  Then it got foggy.  It went on forever.

I emerged at the pit, got fuel, and 100 feet farther who do I see?  Chad – our second driver.  I turned my head and was relieved to see Tanner!  He made it!  The plan we for me to go 60 miles more. Chad checked the bike over, we changed the air filter, and I was gone.  Tanner jumped in chase truck two and headed to the next rider change spot.

We fueled again and Tanner jumped on.  We found out via radio that #266x was out of the race – their bike had a mechanical failure.  We were in third place now.  There is a system where you can text a race number to and it tells you where the racer is and how fast they are going.  But in the south we had no service to text.  We communicated by satellite phone back to team base who was monitoring the internet, and my wife Wendy stayed up all night and gave helpful updates when we had service.

Now we were headed north back towards Ensenada.  Tanner had a 41 mile leg of whoops.  Not just any whoops.  Three foot deep whoops – never ending for 35 miles.  If you are a dirt bike rider, this is your Kilimanjaro.  It was very tough.  Chad got me to the next rider change area and I only waited ten minutes and Tanner came in.  I got on and sped away for a 24 mile section of – that’s right, never ending sand whoops.  Whoops are waves in the sand created by wheel action. Very tough. They seemed to never end. I handed the bike off to Tanner for a 60 mile section and he disappeared into the desert night once again.

We waited at a road crossing for him to emerge.  A headlight came through the whoops.  Was it him?  The bike popped out onto the road in front of us.  It was 285x, the leader.  The next light came.  Was it Tanner?  It was 202x, 12 minutes behind 285x.  How far back was Tanner?  We were 45 minutes behind when we had to change the front brake at mile 480.  Here comes another light. It was him – 7 minutes behind 202x and 19 minutes behind the leader!

I hugged Tanner and sped off.  I passed 202x just before the pit.  Now we were in second.  I got gas at the next pit and turned off the road up a rock face called “Goat Trail”.  More whoops at high elevation.  It was cold now, 48 degrees at 4 am.  I sped passed Kurt Caselli’s marker, the leader in this race in 2013 who hit a horse and died.

After 60 miles I came out to the road, but it wasn’t the road crossing I saw during pre-running.  I was confused for a moment.  Did they change the course at the last minute or was I lost? I swiveled my head and saw my team.  Chase truck 1 had caught up and both trucks were there. Tanner had his helmet on ready to go.  Who was across the road pitting?  285x!  We tried to be quiet to not alert the 285X team who was 60 feet away, that we were their competition and on them now.  (They could have thought we were in another class.  It was still very dark at about 5 am.  We hurried and checked the bike over, and Tanner got on for his last leg – 80 miles into the finish into Ensenada.  Tanner sped away.  The 285x team realized it was us, and got their rider out of the pit 90 seconds after Tanner.

We were in first place.  That’s when the most epic battle of any race ever, began.

To Be Continued…

Night Moves

(Continued from yesterday)

As we saw a light approach, we said “surely this must be Tanner”.  It wasn’t.  Then a trophy truck came by at 80 mph – scary.  Then two more.  They must have passed Tanner.  When you see a trophy truck in action, you have no choice but to be in awe of what these 850 hp machines do out there, and you respect it.  When you are on a dirt bike and one comes roaring up behind you in the night, and you are on a road where you can’t just pull off anywhere, it’s dangerous and scary.  Last year a bike rider was hit by one.

We wondered what happened.  During pre-running we got caught at nightfall on a section where we rode to higher elevation and the temperature dropped quick – to 45 degrees, and we both had only jerseys on.  We got so cold we had to stop and jump around.  Tanner was shaking from the cold.  Did that happen to him now? Waiting, I had three layers on and was ready to jump on the bike – Tanner had a thin jersey out there. Did he have hypothermia?

Finally…a light approaches – it was him!  Nearly five hours since we saw him last.  Something was wrong. Picture this – he had his jersey on, a hydration pack, neck brace and helmet, but no sleeves on his jersey!  I thought he crashed in the cactus and ripped his sleeve off – but both of them??

202x went by.  (Any bike with three digits starting with 2 is in our class). 40 miles earlier Tanner hit a rock and the front wheel bounced off and hit another rock and broke the front brake caliper off – it dangled from the brake line getting tangled up in the wheel.  He tried to tie it up – but with what?  He tried to get string out of an agave plant, but it was very tough and he didn’t have tools.  What did he do? That’s right, no choice – tear his jersey sleeves off and tie the caliper to the top of the fork out of the way of the wheel.  He nursed it back 30 miles to us with no front brake at 1/3 race speed.

Javier went into action.  He took the front brake assembly off the pre-run bike we had in the van and put it on the race bike (you can’t change bikes in this race). The locals, race fans whom we made friends with were eager to help in any way. More trophy trucks and quads and bikes went by.

In 15 minutes Javier had it fixed. I took off into the black on a section I had never seen before because we did not pre-run it. I was worried about trophy trucks – they were coming through now.

We lost about 2 1/2 hours, and we were in fourth place. In front of us – 266x (6 man team), 285x (6 man team), and 202x (3 man team).  It was 10 pm and we were at mile 470 of an 822 mile race.

Next problem – There are two paved roads on the Baja peninsula going south – Rt. 1 along the Pacific coast, and Rt. 5 along the Sea of Cortez coast.  They don’t touch each other, and the race course goes down the Rt. 1 side and up the Rt. 5 side.  Most teams would switch riders at the bottom, and the first rider would ride in a truck back 7 hours to the finish to meet their teammates. But we were a two man team and we each had to ride on each side of the course as we planned to take 6 turns each.  Each leg was planned exactly – for its terrain and length.

So we had two chase trucks – our second driver/mechanic, Chad, was waiting on Rt. 5 for us all day. Our plan was to get Tanner there via a dirt crossover road on the extra bike we had in truck one. So Tanner had this five hour ordeal on a 122 mile tough section, rolls in with no sleeves, has to jump in truck one, drive up the paved road fifteen minutes, unload the spare bike, and speed 45 minutes to meet truck two before I got there – with no front brake (the most important one).

Truck one would also go on the crossover road, but there are rocks and it would have to go slow, and never make it there before me with Tanner.  A bike could go four times the speed of the truck. But the pre-run bike now had no front brake. Could he get to chase truck two and the rider change spot before I did?

Cont. tomorrow…