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Washington ***DeSeRt 100 StOrIeS***

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Just as it states. 2k+ riders saturday, and 1100 riders or so Sunday.

That means there are 3,000 stories to be told.

Got a good one from this weekend? *insert campfire song*

SHARE HERE!

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nothing unusual here. ironman saturday, race on sunday, included a pinch flat when starting second lap and running whole second lap with front flat. 3 hours to break camp after the race due to crazy soreness. 3 over the bar soil samples and a 12:30 am arrival home. had my goggles in my hands when everyone took off. thank god this only happens once a year

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We made it!!! 50 miles on two relics which should be resting quietly in a garage somewhere. Oh wait that’s where they were before an idiot (me) bought them. Bike # 1, 1982 IT465 that I bought last year as a parts bike for my YZ465. (YZ is a roach so I haven’t gotten around to it yet.) Got the IT out of the storage unit last week to see what I needed to do to get it rideable. Not much if you are very loose with the term rideable. I got a new airfilter and had the crank seals replaced. Good to go! Bike # 2, 1978 390 OR. I purchased this bike from the second owner about 4 weeks ago. It had been sitting in a barn for over 20 years. The owner took the carb for his snowmobile and the shocks for his sprayer. The newest ORV sticker we could find was 1981. I called my brother Jim and said "If you can fix it you can ride it in the vintage class on April 11th. I will buy the parts but I don't want to spend more than necessary." He called a week later and said "I need a throttle cable, clutch cable and air filter." I asked what about tires-chain- brakes... etc. He says they look fine although I may need a rear tube. I am thinking sure... two new tires and tubes, after all the Trelleborgs looked like they might have been the original ones. Fast forward to Saturday April 10th. He is still working on the Husky. We took the rear tire to get changed but the bead was rotted. So with a new Maxxis on the back we started trying to adjust the brakes. Well it was a struggle but she fired up with a tow that evening. Finally at 8am we had brakes, sort of. Race at 9:30 am. Gorilla tape for a gas cap gasket. 79 filter shoehorned into the housing. IT465 carb with homemade collar. Shocks from a 1980 DR400. What about the front tire you ask? 1978 Trelleborg with 20 psi. Crazy...stupid. ..Absolutely! Oh well normal for us. We had a mission and we were at least going to make it to the smoke bomb! At 9:30 am we are on the starting line. Husky is kick starting by this time WooHoo! It took all day with a crash by me, Jim running out of gas, and quite a few rest stops...after all we are not kids anymore. To the amazement of everyone including us we finished the toughest 50 miles we have ever ridden! Both bikes puked the fork seals, in my case even before the race. The IT shock had zero compression damping, the Husky shocks had no damping either way. I told him he was putting them on upside down but what do I know, I am just the one who took them off the Suzuki in the first place. Everyone cheered for us but I don't think they knew we got beat by the kids on the CRF 50's. We were just happy to make it! Now it is back to work and try to heal up, I doubt my chiropractor will be very happy with me. What's new :thumbsup:

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Well, this was our 3rd year going to the desert 100 but the first year I ever participated in the race.

Friday afternoon I decided to take the YZ426 out for a quick spin just to realize that the suspension was way out of adjustment. Took it back to camp and worked on it until 6, before finally driving back to Cheney to pick up a spare rear shock. Pulled back in at 9, and partied that night. Saturday morning I swapped out the shock which made no difference whatsoever. We screwed with it all morning until we decided to head out for the dual sport poker run. By that late afternoon I was back to working on the bike. In the mean time my dad disassembled the old shock to see if something was screwed up, which it wasn't. By that night we finally figured out one of the bolts for the bottom of the shock was rusted/fatigued so bad that it wouldnt let the swingarm move smoothly. Lots of oil and some hammering and we made it half way rideable and called it good enough.

As for the race, the start was a little screwed up, we were on the east side of the line when someone yelled out "what the hell, what are they doin?" Of course after everyone looked and saw the riders taking off we took off for the bikes. There was a stumpjumpers guy trying to tell everyone to stop, but gave in and told everyone to just go. The bomb run was fun, until I hit the gate and couldn't see more then 10 feet in front of me.

I did alright until the 2nd checkpoint, then I ate it hard. Just as I took off from my check the guy in front took off and cut me off. That threw me to the right between two tracks where I encountered sagebrush and a 16 inch rock that threw me off. Got back up and inspected the damage. Broken hand guard, bent handlebars, broke one of the two throttle cables, dented the front rim something bad, broke my helmet visor, scratched the hell out of my goggles, and a bloody nose and bruises. But, like any loyal bike should, it fired back up and I was able to finish the rest of the race, bent bars and all.

After the race when we were loading up the bike, I noticed the rear axle nut and adjuster block were missing, fell off sometime during the race. That would explain the extremely loose chain and screwed up sprockets.

And for one last story, on the first lap right before the second bridge there was that ditch that everyone seemed to crash into. The kid in front of me went in too fast and endo'd at the bottom. I got across and went back with another rider to help him get his bike out. Just after we got him out another group of riders come and the last one slams his front brakes before the ditch and endo's over and the bike landed on him. So we head over and help him out. And yet again, just after we get out of the way another rider goes into the bottom and does the exact same thing as the first guy. I did notice though, that they flagged off that crossing when I came through for the second lap.

It was a fun weekend and I had a blast. Can't wait until next year. Good job stumpjumpers!

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This was my 5th trip to the Dez. No race this year though, my buddy and I brought our oldest boys (7 and 8 year olds) for the family poker run for their first time.

The boys managed to finish the 25 miles in about 5 hours... most of it 1st gear putting through the desert! They survived crashes, wind, dust, crowds, exhaustion... devoured a hot dog and kept going.

At the awards we quickly realized a pair wasn't going to get us a trophy. But then somebody gave my son his 4-of-a-kind card. He ran up there like his pants were on fire to get a trophy! That made his whole trip, thank you whoever you are.

He woke up this morning talking about going back, he wanted to bring that trophy to school so bad.

We hung around for the start, but it was obvious some riders took off early. That's a shame the cannon start is the best part of the whole race.

Not getting to race or even ride hard was not a big deal after seeing the big dirty grins our our kids faces. Thanks Stumpjumpers for another awesome weekend!

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My bro and I decided last minute to make the 6hr trek. Got ther late fri nite, had to wedge our 30' mhome and trailer into a tight spot. Couldn't get the furnace to fire and froze our arses off all night long. Rode the IronMan poker ride Saturday. Rode it like it was 1986......the last time I rode the 100. Felt great. Rode hard between stops(but was careful around kids). About 25+miles in out went the lights. Dunno exactly what happened but apparently went over the bars onto my gourd. Woke up and thought it was cool that there were guys riding dirtbikes nearby. Kind of came to within about 15 minutes and thought I was ok. Made it back in loaded everything up and headed home. Its hard to be 48 and think you can ride like your 20 again.

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A favorite moment - the ridiculous pile-up near the start of the poker run, where riders kept crashing trying to ride the middle trail of the rock shelf.

I was swapping my spark plug watching the debacle. It was funny watching all the problems people had with this hill. My 7-year-old rode almost all the way up it on his xr50, he needed a push at the top. My favorite part was seeing about 12 bikes queued up or laying over trying to get up this trail. This big dude rolls up on a vintage Yamaha 360 Enduro (which was pristine by the way) takes a quick gander then rolls up, around and through bikes, up to the left and weaves through 3 modern bikes are struggling to get up this hill. No problem!

I also love to see the big dual-sports on the trail. I saw the guy on the KTM Adventure 990 dump the bike pretty hard and couldn't pick it back up. My kid went by him and I had to follow him so I couldn't stop to help you up. Sorry about that dude! That is a heavy load to pick up.

The kids were dreading the stream crossing but it was dry. Was there a water crossing this year in the race?

A lot of folks stopped to help the kids if they went down, and we got a ton of thumbs-up and support, thank you folks!

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Got a decent start, I saw the others run knowing it was a false start and beyond hope so I jumped in the fray in order to not get stuck behind everybody. It was SUPER dusty and I was right next to the trail where most of the top riders start and saw a guy flip his bike more violently than any wreck I have ever seen. He went down right in the gully where you cross over the race course a little over halway to the bomb. It looked like a grenade went off under his bike sending his bike flying up in the air and flipping end over end. I hope the guy is OK... From there it took forever for the dust to settle so that I could get into my comfortable race pace. Surprisingly I only saw one downed rider and stopped to make sure he was OK, he mumbled but was sitting upright and breathing OK so I moved on knowing that I could be no further help for him. Around that time my buddy pulled up who was a former professional motocrosser and his helmet visor looked like it had been through hell. He told me he wrecked on a nasty whoop that he couldn't see and rung his bell pretty good, his forehead had a nasty bruise at the end of the race. At the pit I was sitting somewhere around 70th and rode pretty smoothly the second half of the race. I ran into a lot of young kids and women and tried to pass them as nicely as I could. There was a nasty hill in the singletrack part of the course towards the end where a lot of guys got stuck, I hung back for a second as opposed to charging it right away and spotted a good line where I was able to get by 5-7 riders. That's the majority of my story, at the end of the race my thumbs were pretty torn up but I hope my efforts were good enough for a top 100 finish.

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Hey, thefirecrackerkid...my story is similar but with one bike.

My bike is old ('79) and I'm even older ('67) so were a well matched pair of poorly suspended partners. My Yamadog IT 250 got 2 new tires, some hand guards, carb twidling, clean air filter, and some understated black graphics. That was it...should be good for 50 miles, eh?

I shoved her into the Toyota mini van, since I was embarrassed to drive the Subaru into Odessa. Here's how it goes in:

SDC11301.jpg

The dang van needed new tires too, so that was another $527 thank-you.

Drove over over on Saturday and tried to find some people I knew...no luck, so I watched the mini-races and thought this kid looked cool on his old PW80:

IMAG0030.jpg

Had a beer in the bier garten (kept the green cup), still didn't see anyone I knew. Oh well, back to Ritzville to stay in the dive motel next door to a crazy lady who kept opening her door, stepping out to cough and mutter incoherently to herself then go back in and slam the door.:thumbsup: Would have been better to camp next to the bier garten.

After a lovely night's peaceful rest on my "cloud" of a pillow (brick-like cloud), I rolled out at 6:45, plenty of time. Arrived at 7:37, still plenty of time. The Yamadog slid out of the 'yota in record time, spun the front wheel-on and lined up the brake drum. I'm feeling like a pro. I turn the guy pitted next to me..."hey, didn't you stay at the such-and-so hotel too?" "Yes", he replies. "Didn't sleep well and some crazy lady kept walking past my window scratching herself...had to move". Neat. I start putting my gear on around 8:00 thinking the rider's meeting is at 8:30, shine my understated black graphics a little on the bike. Shoot, I still have to put oil in my gas can...then the announcer says "rider's meeting at 8:20". Whoa, better pick this up a notch or I'm not gonna be ready to start this thing. I look over at my pit neighbor and notice he's getting his number duct taped to his chest protector..."hey, when did you pick that up?" "Yesterday", he says. My bladder instantly filled. I knock the pre-mix bottle from the gas can and go lumbering over to the Stumpies info area, gave the nice lady my name and she hands me a packet of stuff: paper bib thingy, some shoe string, some white papers and another orange paper. Limped back to my rig, and feverishly started tearing at duct tape..."Rider's meeting in 5 minutes"...still got time. I follow the instructions placing the white papers where they're supposed to go and apply copious amounts of wrinkled duct tape. I get to the number bib and note the number...426...ah, sounds powerful. I slap it to my chest protector and then try putting on my camelbak. It's getting all hung up on my chest protector. Rider's meeting has begun. Just then I see someone I know (where were you all weekend?), no time for chit chat..."will you adjust my strap?" "wha...?". After some uncomfortable silence he gets the picture puts the strap back on my shoulder. Rider's meeting is well underway, so I slosh 3.2 gallons of fuel into the big IT tank. Riders are now starting to rev their motors and move toward the smoke signal. I kick, kick, kick...the Yamadog is farting and belching and finally fires. Yes! My t-shirt is within reach!

I'll post more in a minute.

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Saturday I had a hard get off, but walked away with just bent bars and a sore hip.

Sunday, kinda surprised by the start, didn't realize it was a false start. I had my music playing so I thought I just didn't hear the canon.

Going up the first little rocky hill climb/bottle neck I decided to take tougher line while everyone else played grabass on the easy part but the dude in front of me stalled out...so of course, so did I. Turned the bike around and rode straight through the carnage and through.

No getoffs the whole race. That long hill climb late in the lap was fun, I was kind of surprised to see the huge group of people there during the first lap.

Saw a lot of lonely bikes that 2nd lap so I hope everyone is ok. I had a blast, and was so excited to get my T-shirt.

To the kid on the KTM camped next to the river because you were dehydrated.....wear a camel back next year.

Thanks to the Stumpjumpers and anyone else who helped out.

PS - Helmet Hair....I drove my Subaru there, CR and TW on the trailer. Even the guys from PANTRA that didn't know me thought it was weird. They thought I was a Birkenstock wearing Granola who was coming to try to shut down the race. :thumbsup:

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Helmet_Hair, I thought I saw your bike at the signup area. Then I saw it parked on the side of the trail. I looked for the rider but didn't see anyone so kept going...very very slowly. Sometimes I feel a little guilty for going so slow, but then I remember I am just another obstacle for the fast guys to deal with. Besides if the slow ones like me didn't ride Sunday the stumpies would have a whole bunch less money :thumbsup: Ooohhh my tailbone hurts so baaaaaad...........

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I rode the Ironman, no get offs or close calls, felt pretty good for the first 51 miles, then my legs gave out, couldn't stand up on the pegs to save my life, rolled up to the truck and BS'd with a couple of other guys while drinking lots of water and eating protein, leg cramps finally go away so change into my street clothes while I can still stand up, body is starting to feel pretty good and I start thinking about hanging around one more day and do the 100, figured I'd load the bike in the back of the truck anyway.

I drop the ramp push the bike back a few yards and start pushing towards the truck, front tire starts up the ramp, back tire follows, nows the time I need to lift my leg and place my foot squarely on the tailgate and continue to push the bike forward. I lift my right leg onto the tailgate and start to stand up when my leg muscles cramp up, foot slides off the tailgate and the meaty part of my calf lands on the points of the footpeg and leaves three deep puncture, rake marks about 2 inches long, bike falls over and pins me underneath, I'm like a turtle on its back arms and legs flailing around.

Then I hear this sweet voice calling out "Hang on I got ya" someone jumps into the back of the truck and I feel the weight of the bike start to ease off my back, as I slide out from under the bike I hear the sweet voice ask "are you ok" embarrassed I muter "yeah I'm fine" I finally look up to see who my savior is and there clad in pink and white riding gear is a pretty female holding my bike. I climb into the back of the truck to take the bike and look into her eyes and say "I load my bike like this all the time just to meet girls, what's your name?" She smiles and says "I'm going riding" and jumps off the truck and starts to walk away, over her shoulder she says "by the way, your head is bleeding" and with that she was gone. Total damage to me, tore the skin off my right wrist, split my head open, puncture wounds to the right calf, lost enough blood to fill my right shoe on the drive home and ruined a perfectly good shirt as well. Never did get the name of the angel that came to my rescue and didn't ride the 100 either. Considered myself lucky just to have survive loading my bike.

O40R

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Well. though the poker run was chaos it was nothing compared to the 100.I mosied away at the start after seeing the guy way left(looking at the smoke bomb) get about a quarter mile jump. As said before then all hell broke loose. An orange shirty(no disrespect) ran out about 20 yards and put his hands up right in front of us. His fellow volunteer started yelling at him to get out of the way, as it was futile at that point. Coasted in third to the smoke bomb trying to avoid the carnage, following a bike and and just watching his back tire for vertical movement, and then planning accordingly. Through the gate stayed way right in the kinda single track. It amazes me how much trouble people had at the first little bit of rock on the small downhill. The real fast guys were gone and I settled into a groove with a few others, back and forth, lead follow (608 and 128 I think or 806 and 28). The rocks under the train tracks was a another comical spot. Everyone wants to go over the small pointy rocks instead of the big smooth ones one the right side. I think I picked off three or four right there. One guy got butt hurt and zipped by me on the flat part paralell to the tracks right after. He was faster anyway. Just not smarter. My day would soon come to a close after checkpoint 7 ( I think) when the front went flat while moving at a good clip (for me) and down I went. 2 cracked ribs, bent radiator guards, plastics ruined. Didn't get his race number but a 450x stopped, I couldn't catch my breath and as we were only a 1/2 mile or so from the check point he went back. I am forever gratefull for that guy, although many after asked if I was Ok. Tried to ride to the checkpoint but no dice. A course worker and a very nice girl came down in a 4x and picked me up and she rode my bike back to the checkpoint (she biffed it once but thats OK). At the check point I still couldn't breathe and a gal gave me 800mg of aleeve that got me back on ground level. The EMT said go to the hospital blah blah, I understand and I appreciate it but even he said they don't even wrap ribs anymore. So DNF 1st lap, my poor wife sat there with the gas can for 3 1/2 hours in the dust (thanks pissy pants crew). So in closing without all the clubs volunteers and such I would still be out there gasping for air. Worst part? I changed my front tire after the poker run AND REUSED THE TUBE EVEN THOUGH I HAD ANOTHER HEAVY DUTY WITH ME. My cheap a#s will NEVER make that mistake again. I'll be back.

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At the awards we quickly realized a pair wasn't going to get us a trophy. But then somebody gave my son his 4-of-a-kind card. He ran up there like his pants were on fire to get a trophy! That made his whole trip, thank you whoever you are.

That is awesome!

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I heard Marlon (of Odessa's CIty Counsel) let his son ride the 100 on Saturday. The boy broke his collar bone. :thumbsup:

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This was my first time going to the Desert 100, I've only been riding for 3 years, and I don't plan on ever missing another one. I rode the Ironman on Saturday and wow! what an experience. A big THANK YOU to the Stumpjumpers and all of those that helped. SEE YOU NEXT YEAR!

Jeff

I posted some videos on youtube of the Ironman

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Hey helmet hair, I was staying right beside you in that hotel-i know that lady too! as well as ended up pitting beside you in vendors row. I had a good start and got super crossed up about halfway through the first lap and managed to stay on, but ran over my own foot and twisted up my leg. Then about 35 miles in tagged a basketball size rock and cartwheeled over the bars. Bent the rim blew out the front tire-(awesome job the neutech tubliss did of holding the bead on btw)After banging my handguard down so my front brake would release and getting back on I rode the rest to the pit and called it a day. Couldnt move my neck and my eyes werent working right. So I thought best to live another day than go out and wipe out even worse.

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First D100 with the family and after last weekend it won't be the last. We did the family poker run and my main goal was to get them out alive. My wife and little boy (5) have never seen a hill. My 7 year old will climb most things. At mile 3.5 my 5 year old asks when do we go back? I told him after another 17 miles or so. Funny thing was those clogged hills as my attention was taken up by my 5 yr old. My 7 just road his way to the top and waited for us. 5 yr old was a real trooper and we just tried to keep our mini conga line going. Most every other rider that passed us (probably everyone) was really cool and gave the smaller riders as much room as they could.

Great times, Stumpjumpers, Odessa, sponsors and land owners rock!

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