Hoopphole Hare Scramble

So why is it when you are faced with a choice that you are not sure if you should do or not, and someone prods you by saying “Bet you can’t do that” or even better yet, “Well I guess if you don’t do it we will place you amongst the rank of the female gender.” I.E. they call you a girl. That you end up doing it even if it against your better judgment. Now I have nothing against the female gender, Heck I am surrounded by them in every day life. My wife is female (hence the wife title), my daughter is female, our cat is female, and not sure about the fish. I think it is male just so I can have a vote on my side when it comes to large household decisions. Well, Mr. Tom Farris used this little verbal prod to get me to go to the Hooppole Hare Scramble this weekend. When against my better judgment I was planning on not going. This judgment was not based on my lack of wanting to ride or race, rather my keen sense of knowing that 3 inches of snow on top of an inch of rain, combined with temperature in the mid 30’s was a recipe for an all out muddy nasty race. But hind sight being 20/20 I prepped my trusty race steed and agreed to go along. When we arrived at the race it looked like a virtual winter wonder land. I know, kind of picturesque setting right. That’s what I kept telling myself. With only 30 minutes to get unloaded, signed up, and dressed we didn’t have a whole of time to spare. We made it to the starting line with little time to spare. I opted to wear my Moose Racing Monarch Pass pants and new riding vest which I am glad I did as they kept my warm and dry. This alone was daunting feat as the fields we had to cross would probably been better passable with a hover craft.

Ok, so the start of the race. When Stan Redell shot off the shotgun for the start I kicked the bike, it fired up and away I went. To my surprise I was the first one to the corner, but the with sound of what seemed like a jet engine behind me I knew I was not alone. I managed to hold off the pack of hungry vultures behind me for about the first 2 miles. It wasn’t long before Ryan Lenth and Chris Nees made it around me. I tucked in behind, put my head down and kept charging. When we came out to the first field (aka Lake Hoopphole) my little 250 did not have it in it to keep it pinned. (Ok, maybe it was me) Long story short, after an hour I broke my bark buster and decided that I had enough fun playing in the water and mud for one day.

The next exciting part of the day was trying to get out of the pits. It was like the 2006 Dirty Dan Funland scramble, when you had to keep momentum on your side and the engine pinned. So hear I am writing this story after spending 2 hours and $20 at the car wash still wondering how one little phrase got me to go to this race. “So you are going to stay home today and be a girl, ha?” Thanks to good dirt bike buddy’s to prod my but off the couch to go racing. All in all, it was good, of not so clean racing. I got to witness people cutting course (won’t mention any names) and an A class race operation. It’s no wonder WFO draws the crowd they do with the prep and organization of their races.

Gus