Cycle News - Archive Issues - 1980's

22 beep of the horn and a wave. We rode around for a while and then headed back to the farm, taking a less traveled route. We went through the woods cross country on a two-tracker barely wide enough to accommodate the Jeep. It was slow going as we avoided pines and brushed aside branches, but we eventually came out on top of the pasture by the farm. "It's really dark in there. If you break down you either walk or stay there until someone comes. I just came through that way for furl ..·• " • • ...... • • .• ... . .• ' . ' Breakfast comes early on the farm, as I soon learned as Mark's dad yelled into the trailer at 6;30 Friday morning. A couple of cups of coffee and bacon and eggs got us going, and before long Mark was getting ready to ride. Anita's brother Rick stopped by and measured Mark's trailer for decks he is planning to build, and then all of us drove over to a pit and sheer ledge area for a photo session. I told Mark that while he's racing he's so smooth that I never have a chance to get any , 'stytt' 'sMt'!;; 'anti' h~' 6bllgeti: ..,. like making pictures like this," Mark said as he prepared to jump up one of the 30-foot ledges. "You just gas it and hit the first lip. which carries you over the top." The results were impressive. we all had a good time. Later that afternoon I suited up and headed back into the woods with Mark. Bill Cummins, an old race acquaintance of Mark's, stopped over at the farm while in the area and joined us for the ride. Mark took us to a rather difficult trail in tight woods, a track of som about a quarter mile around full of tight turns and rough whoops. "Before Houston and Daytona (Supercrosses) this is all I rode. It's not exactly a Supercross track, but it keeps you concentrating all the time just like in a Supercross. " Once back at the farm we talked about Mark's philosophy on training over a glass of iced tea. "You can only go so fast in the woods. I know I could ride the Two-Day stuff and smoke those guys. Once you start motocrossing you really start flying. I had a couple of. MX courses but I got tired of them." Mark pulled out a pack of photos of Howerton's track in Texas, where Mark spent some time riding. "I was thinking about moving to Texas to ride with Kent, but I don't know if that would be good. I got fast riding by myself, and if I started riding with Kent I'd probably only go fast enough to beat him." We spent a few minutes talking about Kent's arm injury which he suffered in August when another rider landed on him while he was practicing. "I don't know if Kent will be the same when he comes back. He's got a couple of months to go with the cast he has on, then he has to get a bone graft and then another cast for another month or so. It's hard to lay out that long and come back strong." Mark thought a run was in order so we got into our shorts and runnjng shoes and headed up the road. Barnett and Bill soon left me behind and when I got to the two mile mark they were already returning. Mark left Bill behind soon after climbing a long uphill, and when Mark back-tracked to run a set of three sprints up and down the hill even his two dogs wouldn't run with him! "I feel guilty if I don't get tho~e sprints in. On a good day I'll ride hard and then go for thjs run. and after it's done I feel really good." Pork roast with barbecue sauce, potatoes, fried sweet corn and all the trimmings were waiting for us after we showered. Tonight was designated party night and we began making plans to go to The Warehouse, the hot night spot in Selma. We didn't get clear of the kitchen before Mark's grandma handed him a shopping list. "Remember, Mark, no groceries, no breakfast in the morning," she said as we headed for the van. We picked up Anita and stopped at a small lounge to visit with a few of Mark's and Anita's friends before going to The Warehouse. The Warehouse was just that; a converted warehouse made into a night club. The music blared and we had a good time. Soon our table was full of friends and both Mark and I made our way to the dance floor before the night was over. Mark has lived in Alabama for over two years, and it was easy to realize he has been accepted by the local folks. Many people stopped by our table and wished Mark well in his racing. Time flew by, it was past midnight, and we hadn't picked up tbe groceries. We piled into the van and found an all-night grocery store, filled the list, and headed for home. When we got there the night was far from over, We played Jimi Hendrix and The Doors - •• e:tpts for a while ~fote turning in. "I do what I want to, but around January I start training hard and put every• thing else aside. You have to, you have to be 100 percent to win." We were up and at it fairly early Saturday morning, and Mark's first project was to drop a new piston into a 250 so his cousin Ricky would have a ibike to ride. Mark and Ricky have spent a good part of the last two years riding together. While Mark worked on the bike a group of riders stopped by who were in the area for an enduro which was to run the next day. By the time we got rolling we had a group of eight heading for the trails. Barnett showed the way and we put in some fun miles. Back at the farm we came up with a problem. Mark's German Shepherd had the mange, and the cure was coating the dog with a mixture of motor oil and sulphur. We mixed up a gooey batch of the stuff and covered the dog with it, then went into dinner. It wasn't until after we ate that Mark found the dog in his van-he had left the side door open! No major problem, Mark pulled the cover off the bed and took it in to be washed. Then Mark packed clothes for his trip to Canada as he had to leave in the morning. His aunt ironed his slacks and shirt while the rest of us sat around and drank coffee. I never felt up-tight at the farm; there's an open feeling of friendship that makes you part of the surroundings. We decided to make one more trip into Selma, but made a short and quiet night of it. Mark, Anita and I were tired from the long day and night before, so we headed to Lafayette's, a more reserved night spot than The Warehouse. We were joined by Anita's friend Georgeann, which made for fine company for me! By midnight we were back at the farm and in bed, grabbing a good night'S sleep. In the morning, rime was short. I had to think about getting to the enduro on time, and Mark had to leave for the Birmingham airport (75 miles away) by eight to make his flight to Canada. If everything worked out right he was going to try and take in a Frank Zappa concert before coming home. We exchanged good-byes and Mark's grandma welcomed me back at another time. I knew she meant it and hope I can make it back. Mark planned to rush back from Canada md get in a couple of days of hard riding before the San Diego (California) Supercross final. "If I push real hard before the race I might be prepared. After that race I have to go to Japan to test for 15 days, and then I get a month off. Only a month! It doesn't seem like much before I start racing again. But I'll just keep getting faster when I ride and race, so it's alright. I have three years to go, If I'm doing well then I might keep going, but if I'm not winning it'll be over, I'll kick back. I've bought an apartment complex in Chicago, now I have to spend money to save money. I'm one of the three highest paid MXers; there's only a few of us really making money. I'm looking ahead, but I don't really know what I'll do when it's all over." With that we parted ways, and as,l drove down the path and across the two plank bridges it was a bit easier to understand what makes a champion what he is. Other super achievers have found other routes to the top, but for Mark Barnett the formula was rather easy, but the work involved wasn't; Strip away the non-essentials, take it back to the basics. Invest your time wisely in getting to one's goal, then work, work, work. Barnett has become one of the top MXers in the world, and this farm in Alabama has led him to it. With that thought I hit a paved road and picked up my speed. It was time to move on. •

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