To a full bore desert racer, Enduros always seemed to be on the nurdy side of dirt bike events. They tend to draw out riders who wear JT pocket protectors stuffed with pens. Don't believe me? Just go through sign-up and see how many of the riders are wearing prescription goggles. Next, take a look at the bikes, KTMs and Huskies with computers!?
How I got talked into riding (they don't call it racing) one of these high I.Q. events is still undetermined. I think it was the way my friend Doug keeps his race calendar pinned up right beside his bike. The Enduro events all neatly marked down in heavy ink with a few desert races penciled in here and there. A true desert racer wakes up Saturday morning looks at the D-37 race schedule and says "What month is it any way?" Then he throws his bike in the truck and goes.
In any case, this is the way I saw my first Enduro...A lot of things were going through my mind as we turned off the reddish blacktop of Torona Road and headed down pit row of the Prospectors Enduro. Up ahead I saw a huge crowd of bikes and trucks. I surmised that 90% of the knowledge in the desert was amassed here. Just think (I thought) one grenade and desert racing would slip back into the Stone Age - Bomb runs with real smoke - a real Hare leading the race - racing without tools or even a tow rope - GASP! I was suddenly jerked out of my day-dream by the sound of the truck door opening. "Everybody out for sign-up!" Doug yelled. We made our way over to the first line. I stood there looking around thinking how I was right about the goggles, that's when they jumped me..."$28 please!" the nice lady said. I stuttered and replied, "Hey, your mistaking me for a Rocket Scientist! I don't even own a calculator - isn't there a Desert Racer discount?" As I was shelling out the bucks she asked, "Would you like a roll chart with that entry sir?" So I said, "Ma'am, I don't need a CHART! When the ROLL is called up yonder I'll be there!"
At that time Art grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the number table. "Two more bucks please". said the nice little girl. So I kindly asked what was wrong with my Desert numbers (maybe these Enduro types can't count that high, Hee Hee). Then she said, "Sir you need to ride on your minute with 3 other riders". Well, I politely informed her I would ride on my KAWASAKI and I don't like taking passengers on account of their feet getting caught in the rear wheel (its downright unsafe!). After that little episode was over, Doug, Art and Bob were walking around playing with there mini 'Dead Sea Scrolls' and computers. ( I assumed they were late filing their taxes and were using the spare time to catch up.)
Then it happened. I caught a glimpse of all four #1 plates ripping off the starting line. "Get your gear!" I yelled. "The race started without us!" It was then that the Enduro types lost their cool. As I jumped on the Kawi, they were yelling wildly and waiving their arms. Art threw a tire iron at me, Doug grabbed my handle bars and Bob laid down in from of the bike. One kick of the trusty Kawasaki and I caught air off Bob's chest protector. I was amazed at these scientist types and their unsportsman-like conduct as I raced off towards the leader. That was when the really weird stuff started.
On the course there were little signs with what I guessed to be advertisements for local T.V. shows. I never slowed down to see, but it looked like "Watch Star Trek M-F 7-8pm on Channel 13". Well, in any case I was moving so fast, at each check I came to, they got all excited and shouted "You're really Burnin' em!" Ya - Hoo! I've never been this far in front!....Two weeks later - the results are here, lets see Art 1st; Doug 2nd; Bob 3rd - where am I? LAST PLACE! But... I got the most points!?
The Phantom RUTSter.