Cycle News - Archive Issues - 2000's

possession (or so I thought) and it was immaculately prepared (or so I thought). "No worries on the bike," I thought, echoing that to Lance. As long as it had electric start, how bad could it be? Two things concerned me as we loaded the Fun Mover the day prior to the race: the gas that was pouring out of the KTM's carburetor onto the floor of our warehouse; and the sight of Kit Palmer holding the bike's headlight in both hands, wires shooting out in every direction. Both Kit and Chris told me everything was fine. We'll fix it at the race, they said. I saw Lance's face shrivel up like he'd just sucked the jUice out of a bad lemon. Uh oh. so" look. Then we went for a pre-race Mexican meal complete with margaritas. We were completely prepared. Well, except for the carburetor. P.C. Friday morning, the day before the race, I went to the Cycle News offices, excited about my first 24hour motorcycle race. I walked into the shop where they keep their test bikes and found Kit and Chris working on the KTM 400 that we were going to race. The lights didn't work and there was gas pouring out of the carburetor. The backup bike, a Yamaha WR426F, looked to be in much better shape. The boys assured me that the bike would be fine. Lance McRoberts The first order of business upon returning from the grueling Labor Day Weekend AMA dirt track tripleheader was to make the trek to the Long Beach swap meet on Sunday to hunt parts and get my recently acquired hot-rod car project going - or so I thought until my colleagues at the office reminded me that I had promised to take part in the Glen Helen 24 hours. Crap! Was that this weekend? I'm sure that I could have bailed and easily been replaced (Personal Watercraft Illustrated editor Jeff Hain was waiting in the wings, chomping at the bit for a spot on the team), but in the interest of keeping the commitment, I found myself loading up my truck and heading out toward San Bernardino at 10 p.m. Friday night, only to fmd out that the gates to the track were closed. Thank God for cell phones, as I was able to get in touch with Carruthers, who mobilized the troops to come and rescue me at "the wall." Scott Rousseau It was time to call Dad. It had always worked before. Mechanical problem? Call Kel. Fortunately, Chaparral Motorsports is on the way to Glen Helen. And it worked. Pops worked his magic on the KTM's headlight, soldering wires here and there and handing us back a light that actually lit. Brilliant. He also handed me the soldering gun. Just in case. He also said he'd pay us a visit on Saturday night. Just in case.' The lemon look disappeared from Lance's face as Jonnum gave us that "I told you "Man, wait until you see the hill that we have to climb tomorrow," Carruthers told me before we all hit the sack. "It's sooo steep." I knew that he was referring to Mount St. Helens, and I would have been surprised if the course architects hadn't elected to utilize the jumbo grade. I'd never climbed it, either on a motorcycle or on foot. "That hill will be the least of your worries," I told him. "Besides, I saw Broc Glover climb that hill once, so I know it can be done." S.R. P.C. same thing happen again, and again and again. "Sh-tl" So much for getting the holeshot. Finally, my thumb stayed on the button long enough to get the engine started. Unfortunately, by that time, I was mired in the middle of the pack as we began our first of 49 laps. After I got going, I couldn't help but think how I had already screwed things up for our team. I was somewhat relieved, however, to learn later that the starterbutton assembly was lose and had spun on the handlebar when I went to push it. Still. .. Kit Palmer On Friday night I witnessed the hierarchy of Cycle News in action. We walked the track with a flashlight, with Paul complaining the entire time about Mount St. Helens and how he wouldn't be able to climb it. We slid in mud, laughed, slid in mud and laughed some more. Then we retired to the motorhome, bench-raced, and argued over who was going to sleep where. Paul won out, though the others battled him to the bitter end over who was going to get the top, doublewide bunk, which he refused to share with any man. Steve Bobrofsky I'll always remember the start of the race, seeing Kit fly off the line, watching a guy almost take him out within feet of the start. I knew then that we'd made the right choice in picking Kit to be our lead man: He was smart and precise and his emotions wouldn't get the better of him. S.B. Since I'm not related to anyone at Cycle News and I don't work there, unlike the rest of our team, I was nervous and hoped to be able to carry my weight. I feft a little better when we arrived at Glen Helen and noticed I was the only one who brought tools. L.M. Perhaps the most amazing thing about our 24-hour experience was how remarkably well our KTM 400 EXC performed and held up throughout the long race, which seems kind of ironic, since things didn't really start out that way. In fact, the very first device that I touched on the bike failed - well, sort of. You see, I had the honor of starting the race for our six-rider team and was anticipating getting a good start in the Sportsman/Expert pack - not because I'm such a great starter or anything, but because the KTM has an electric starter. I even had visions of nabbing the holeshot. But things didn't go as planned. After running to the bike in the Le Mans-style start, I went to push the starter button, but in my rush, my thumb slipped off the button and nothing happened. I took another stab at the button, only to have the cue'. n To my surprise, the first lap was absolutely crazy. Really crazy. Many of the riders around me were racing as though this were a 20-minute moto rather than a 24-hour endurance race. They were slamming berms and banging handlebars, and they were abusing their bikes and, as I would later witness, their bodies, as well. They seemed to be trying to win the race in the first hour. At one point, I got parked in a turn by somebody on a CR250 and was sent over the berm and off the track. I was a little peeved, to say the least. I watched this guy pull away from me, throttle pinned and the back end swapping from side to side. Later that lap, barreling down a high-speed section of the course, up ahead I could see a motorcycle on its Side, lying in the middle of the track. As I went by, I could see the bike's pilot, sprawled B _ S • SEPTEMBER 26, 2001 15

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