VOL. 51 ISSUE 2 JANUARY 14, 2014
Ensenada to meet up with Colin.
Literally, the man arrived the day
before the start of the race, fresh
off the final MotoGP round and
test in Spain. No pre-run and no
time on the bike. He was going
into the race blind.
Nevertheless, Colin was excited, we all were. The game
plan – Mike was to start for the
team and blaze through downtown Ensenada and with an estimated 250,000 race fans filling the streets, it's the party you
The team put in
a solid effort and
finished fourth overall
in Pro Class 21.
can imagine. In Mexico, the Baja
1000 is their "Super Bowl." They
live for racing.
Stay-up-and-finish – words I
had told myself throughout my
racing career – were never more
important than here; never more
important for each of us on the
team if we were to complete this
event. It's just you, your machine,
the trail, your instincts, and a big
set of huevos. This is even more
amplified while racing during the
blackness of night.
P57
The race went green on Thursday the 14th of November at 11
p.m. for motorcycles, with trucks
heading out at 9 a.m. the following morning. Myers left the line at
12:30 a.m. on his 70-mile journey
through the night. Eventually, he
would reach me before our first
pit stop and rider exchange. The
plan was for me to catch some
fuel and take the helm for my 80mile run through the Summit.
"I was very calm at the start
line, but I knew it was going to get
real," said Mike. "On the way out
of the city I kept it slow and actually stopped at a stop sign [laughs].
Squid move number one. It was
cold and foggy and I had to deal
with slower guys who started the
race in front of me. Once on the
trail, it was tough going with all of
the dust. It seemed like it took me
forever to get around people. The
smoke from all of the fires also
added to the lack of sight. I was
in second gear for a long time. I
only had about five feet of visibility in front of me. I was messing
around with the lights, constantly
trying to get a better visual."
So we waited. Me and a couple of members of our chase
crew in the truck - John Bell and
Billy Click. We waited patiently
off the side of a random Mexican
road as campfires illuminated the
area - "the dump" as they call it.
Looking around, there were multiple chase crews waiting on their
riders, just as we were. I had time
for an hour's nap and then it was
time to gear up and prepare for
the bike. It was in the low 30s
