Winter Enduro

Most of the posts here are pieces that I was content with. This memoir is just sort of a mess. I did the internet research work, passed a draft to my motorcycle friend for a technical check ("Looks good."), had my granddaughter read it ("loved the start, got bored with the rest."). read it to my writing group and it came out sort of flat. The message here is just wait till the piece sings to you before you let it go. Any ideas on how to make this better ? ?

As the buzzing of the alarm reaches through my unconsciousness I roll over and turn it and the electric blanket off in one awkward motion. It is 5:30AM and the thermometer outside the bedroom window reads 19 degrees F. I slide out of the bed trying not to wake my wife and slip into the long johns bottom and top, the wool shirt, sweater layers and jeans I had laid out the night before. In heavy wool socks I pad down the hall past the kids room and wolf down breakfast then put on my heavy motocross boots. It is a winter “enduro” day and I have an hour drive to Berkshire, NY through three inches of new snow. The motorcycle is on the trailer, hitched to the car as I slip in, twist the key, hear the motor turn over, flip on the heater and the radio and ease down the driveway.


You are probably thinking, “This guy’s got responsibilities, a family; what is he doing leaving in this god awful cold weather to ride motorcycles in the snow with some motorcycle slobs.” Well this is “me time” and it is more complicated than it appears. My Dad got me started on bikes in the ‘40’s when I was 6 and it has stuck ever since (I’m 35 now).

The “enduro” today is a 50 mile timed event through back roads, woods trails and power lines and the riders will be expected to maintain a set 18 miles per hour average measured at check points along the route (some of which I will know their location before I start, but there will be at least one unannounced check). The plan is that each rider starts with 1000 points and for each minute you get to a check point early you lose two points for each minute late you lose one point. It pays to be on schedule, but as the terrain varies from dirt roads, to log strewn paths, to stream beds and open fields that can be difficult. The route is mapped and I will be given a list of distances and direction changes for each turn on three sheets of paper that I cut into strips and tape together like an adding machine roll that will go in magnified scrolling device on my handlebars. Once I know my start time I calculate the projected arrival time at each turn which I add that to the tape. Using a clock strapped to the handlebars I will try to stay true to those times as the terrain allows. With the snow and ice today there will be some added challenges. I am running straight knobby tires with no studs or spikes.

I make it to Berkshire, NY, a sleepy town of 1,366 just south of Ithaca and pull in to the Fire Station where I can see some fifty other cars and trailers with motorcycles. I am part of the “Teddy Bears Woods Riding” team. You remember the song:

“If you go out in the woods to play you better not go alone,

It’s a lovely day in the woods today but safer to stay at home

For every bear that ever there was will gather there today because,

Today’s the day the Teddy Bears have their picnic”

Well, that is where the idea came from and the logo we have is of a Teddy Bear lying on its back in a mud puddle with a knobby tire track going right across his chest. Joe Cole came up with that one. He has a motorcycle store in Binghamton, NY that specializes in off road bikes; also in the group is his brother, John (a photographer), his father, Bill (a contractor), and Mel Saddlemeir (an electrician). Me, I’m an IBM product planner with a Harvard MBA helping to build check reader-sorters for the Federal Reserve, array processors for the seismic industry, race track systems, and other stuff. When we ride, the intensity, the adventure, the danger, the mutual support, respect and knowledge sharing sweeps all away in the focus on the moment.

The carburetor turned out to be frozen up as the bike was out over night so I wheel it into the fire house, take it apart and thaw the mixture in the float chamber. I have pulled 9:42 start time so have some time to stay warm and chat with the other riders, most who have a lot more experience than I have. I have a small Japanese bike, a 90 cc Hodaka with modified forks to give more travel and spring over the bumps and a special gear sprocket for power at low speeds to help hop over logs and maneuver tight spots. It weighs about 170 pounds which makes for easy handling and lifting if you get bogged down in a stream or a mud spot. But others are riding bigger and more powerful machines.

Four of us are lined up at the start at 9:42 and my boots crunch on the cold crisp snow, a good sound as it means traction as the edges of the flakes have not melted. My breath is steam and , I try not to fog my goggles, muscles tense, the noise of the other motorcycles surrounds me, I check my time, lean forward eyes on the flag, barely aware of the cold. When the flag drops I charge out onto the road. It will be another minute before the next set of four starts after us. The sheet says 0.6 miles to a Right turn. So we watch for the double red arrows that point into the woods, see them, make the turn and stand up on the pegs to work through the tight trail and over the rocks and trees. Every now and then you come to a place where they put up three or four down arrows to warn you of a steep down hill, tight turn, or some other danger like a drop off. Usually these are the spots where some spectators will walk in to watch the excitement, but the cold weather will keep most away today. Our adrenaline is keeping us warm now.

Out of the woods I am crossing an off camber corn field with the ends of cut off stalks sticking up through the snow. I am being a little cautious when some guy buzzes past me on the pipe (a muffler tuned for power) like I am standing still. I can see I have a lot to learn. The field ends at a stream bed, with a steep drop into a stream (now frozen to a slippery glass like sheet) but you have to carry speed across it to get up the bank on the other side to make it out onto a dirt road. I make it without dropping the bike and arrive at the first check just a minute late. Not bad.

That is the way it goes for 50 miles of concentration and strength and excitement and generally of fun. I did manage to fall twice and stalled a couple of times, but that’s not too bad. No, I didn’t have a perfect score, but I made it and the exercise sure kept me warm even though it only made it up to the mid twenties during the three hours out on the course.

Back at the firehouse, I put the bike, now covered in dirt and ice, back on the trailer, get out of my Babour suit (I had worn it over my jeans and sweaters for warmth and protection). It is made up of a heavy coated canvas set of pants and jacket with big pockets for spare parts – (you have to carry anything you might need for repair on the course as any outside help will disqualify you so, you carry spare cables, shift levers, tools, etc.) and feel the raw cold leaving my body and join everyone for, hamburgers, hot dogs, baked beans, macaroni salad, coleslaw, and pies to tell stories, learn stuff, and drag out old jokes. The Teddy Bear group came out OK, no trophies but in one piece and with some good smiles. Doing this is pretty intense so your mind stores up a lot of images from the route. You can say “Remember that crossed up log and the barbed wire at mile 23.6” and generally others will know just what you are talking about.

By mid afternoon I am back in the car on the road to Binghamton, tired, warmed up and happy, looking forward to home and kids. It sure has helped to wring out the job tensions with some “me time” in spite of it being the coldest weather I’d ever run in. Damn but it was cold.

Well there it is. It just seems sort of flat, not really defining what the cold was like, not really covering the excitement, fun and thrill of the motorcycling, not really defining why "me time" was needed. So this is an imperfect piece I should rework again. Any ideas?