RACE LIES AND ALIBIS

This is a monthly article that I wrote back in 2011 as a Trail Riders of Houston (TRH) Board Member.  It captured the spirit and a great moment in my life as an off-road rider.  Enjoy!

JUNE 2011

Right before the last family enduro, I was having a conversation with Lee Jordan and Jeff Wilson at the trailhead when Jeff brought up something about when I rode the International Six Day Enduro.  Lee stopped the conversation and looked a bit baffled.  I did not know that Lee was unaware of this gee whiz fact, then he pointed out that neither did the majority of the club.  Then it hit me that TRH has had a near complete membership turnover since the late 80’s to 90’s.  There was literally a generation gap of our history and storied past.  There are a handful of us still around from that timeframe, but I wanted to share a few stories from my 1996 ISDE experiences.  Not only are they my experiences, but these are stories trademarked by TRH in the long run because without TRH, I would more than likely not have two ISDE medals.

I grew up in and around TRH.  My Dad got my brother and I into riding at the Sam Houston National Forest in 1980.  No flashy bikes or gear, just simply loading up the bikes and riding all day Sunday.  I knew how lucky I was and loved the feeling of freedom that riding gave me, even at 13 years old.  Sounds really normal and boring, but the difference was that we had a subscription to Dirt Bike magazine and all I can remember was reading it from cover to cover trying to understand compression ratios and editor Super Hunky Rick Sieman’s humor.  What I did understand was that every January edition covered the International Six Day Enduro generally held in Europe.  Of most interest to me were the super tough guys in the magazine with the USA blue and white skunk striped helmets.  I played little league baseball and football every year through high school, but never had heroes like the mud caked and half frozen faces of the American Six Day rider.  I always had this secret dream of one day being like those guys.  I mean, why not, I ride dirt bikes and I’m an American and what or who was gonna tell me NO except maybe…REALITY!  Maybe one day. 

1982 was my first event and it was the Caney Creek Enduro in the 16 and under class on a KX80.  Throughout the 80’s, we rode the TRH Family Enduros, Scrambles, and some Texas State Enduros.  I cut my teeth on riding very long courses during my teens.  Ah, then graduation, working, attempt at college…riding began to take the back seat.  Remember REALITY?  I was a good rider, but not national level speed.  I still loved riding, but I needed to get on with my life.  

In 1996, after eight years of active duty in the Air Force, I came back to Texas, and was bit by the riding bug again.  My Dad had a couple of old KDX 200’s out in the barn, so we went riding.  Through the spring, I was having fun and quickly realized that I still felt fast.  Too fast for a stock KDX!  Enter the 1996 Honda CR250, a very well suspended and rocket fast dirt bike.  A few rides on this thing and I felt like I was on fire.  Motivated, I entered the TRH AMA ISDE Two Day National qualifier in the Sam Houston National Forest in May.  I previously rode an ISDE National qualifier in 1987 and understood the rules, but was just going to ride this one for fun.  Surprise, at the finish I was 10th in class and around 20th overall.  Uh, now what?  At the awards ceremony, my friend Ed Keeley came up to me and asked if I was going to the Ohio qualifier in two or three weeks.  Uh, hadn’t thought about it.  I was two days of riding away from qualifying for the ISDE as a USA rider.  I worked out a few details (applied for credit cards), found a travel buddy David Rowland, borrowed my Dad’s van and headed to Ohio.  All my cards were on the table by skipping the Idaho Two Day.  I had to have four good days overall to count toward the USA team selection.  Bottom line/Short story about Ohio:  I guess you have to be from there to understand how to ride there.  It rained all day both days…all 125 miles each day!  I could barely stand up at the start line in that greasy Ohio mud, much less navigate the constant off camber course.  I made it to the finish and it must have been terrible for everyone else because I actually did OK.  I didn’t even care about the results after the finish.  We just loaded my 500 pound mud caked CR250 and limped back to Texas.  Two weeks later, I got a call from AMA.  I was one of the 40 riders selected for Team USA.  They wanted to know how fast I could get my bike shipped to Oakland because the USA shipment container was going to Finland in two weeks.  Then the question that stopped me in my tracks and still sends chills down my spine…What size helmet do you wear?  Arai Helmets is trying to ship out the USA blue and white skunk stripes and mine was on the way!  MY DREAM WAS ABOUT TO COME TRUE AND I HAD NO IDEA WHAT I WAS DOING!  I was off balance, had no money, struck with fear, and did I mention that I had no idea what I was doing.  Just get there and “figure it out as I go” was the plan.  You will notice the pattern.

Here comes the story and circumstances that most would have given up early.  By virtue of being on a short notice bike ship date, Honda of Houston agreed to support me by providing a spare parts box and would crate and ship the bike to Oakland Cycle Gear to meet the USA shipping container headed for Finland.  I had a military commitment in Florida, so I prepped the bike the best that I could and dropped it off at the shop.  About two weeks later, I got a call in Florida from Cycle Gear that my bike was there and we had a problem.  The crate had been broken apart during ground shipping, the box of parts were missing, and it was too late to meet the container.  The USA container had already left port for Finland.  I had about 30 seconds to make a decision on if this was a sign of not meant to be or re-group and never give up.  Dave Bertram, owner of Cycle Gear, got on the phone and offered to re-crate the bike in one of his old Six Day crates and air freight it to Helsinki.  I won’t mention that cost, but I went for it anyway.  Disaster seemed to be averted for the moment.  

Blink and there I was landing in Finland.  I was in a huge leap of faith completely depending that my crate made it from Oakland to Helsinki airport.  The AMA team manager called me the next morning and told me to come with him to the Helsinki airport so we could pick up the bike.  The AMA had rented a box van and we could use it to get the crate.  Not knowing what type of barter system that it would take to get the bike from the shipping company and through customs, we had a plan to get the bike at all costs.  We went inside to talk to the company.  I spotted the crate and made plans to load it.  To this day, I’m not sure exactly what happened because my memory is “fuzzy” at best.  Let’s just say that we hoisted the bike into the van and left quickly.  No one followed us, so I’m guessing whatever happened was clean.  I was elated that I had my bike and was now looking forward to the International Six Days Enduro.  As fate would have it, I was the only American to get their bike at that point.  The USA shipping container was having problems through customs.  Hmmm…you don’t think…Naaa!  The container made it just in time for the riders to prep the bikes and go through the impound.  Bikes were impounded a day late, but it all worked out.  After all the bikes were impounded, we had about two days to go walk the special tests and hangout with the other Americans.  At one of the special test areas there was a road course for car racing.  One of the riders went and asked the track guys if we could drive around on it in our rental cars to “just say we did it”.  The only rule was we had to wear helmets.  No problem, we have those.  So, I ended up in a rental car with America’s top Six Days riders.  Other riders were in the other cars.  As you can imagine, Pro level dirt bike riders in rental cars on a road course quickly turned from parade laps to something way different.  All I remember was those of us not in control of the car were screaming in terror and I couldn’t breathe from the hot brakes and coolant smell.  A five or six car Formula One race had broken out and it was not nice.  That night, it was explained to the entire USA group in the hotel lobby about rental car insurance and highly suggesting that everyone start acting like adults for a change.  Most Americans in attendance were confused at the lecture as some of us stared at the floor.  Apparently, there was a similar rental car incident in Slovakia the previous year that got quite expensive.  After two weeks in Finland, the only rental car damage was from one of the riders putting white shelving stick on paper on his navy blue rental car attempting to make it look like a USA helmet.  It wasn’t a problem until the rental agency had him remove it.  Yes, you guessed it, it took off the paint in two one foot wide strips the entire length of the car.  Oops!  Where are those friends to tell you that something is a bad idea?  Honestly, all of those friends were all at the road course racing rental cars.  He really had no chance.

When Day One finally came around, everyone was ready to rock.  I still had no idea what I was doing and just planned to go for it.  The biggest thing weighing on my mind was the 180 ground mile day ahead of me.  By the halfway point of Day 1, I was wasted.  90 miles in, everyone was dropping like flies.  This was to be one of the toughest Six Days in recent history.  After a few “encouraging words” from the U.S Team Manager, I was motivated to get back on the bike.  I think the conversation went like this…”There are a lot of people that have traveled to help Team USA, there are a lot of people that have donated their money with hopes on you.  I suggest you get off your blank blank blank…and get your blank blank blank back on that bike and die trying.  You are wearing a USA helmet that people would do anything to earn and there are only two ways to quit, bike failure or death, and you are still breathing you blank blank blank.”  OK, I get it!  For the record, I’ll admit that I was praying for bike failure.  But it was a Honda!  No such luck.  I finally finished the day and my plans to change a back tire were quickly deferred until a later date.  That’s code for I didn’t care about the tire.  I couldn’t feel my hands and had level ten monkey-butt.  All I could do was impound the bike and get back to the spaghetti dinner provided by Team USA.  After about an hour and two plates of pasta, I began to feel a little better.  I might actually survive this.  Day Two through Day Five blurred by 150+ miles at a time.  Somewhere in there I actually got stopped in a speed trap and was issued a ticket.  The days were long and miserable, but I was in the groove and surviving.  My body went through amazing pain and recovery, but I had learned a tremendous lesson about myself and how far I could push my body.  Day Six dawned and I saw the light at the end of the tunnel.  We rode about 60 miles (it’s bad when 60 miles seems short) out to the final motocross and it was insane.  It was a festival atmosphere with 10,000 people.  The track was about 1 mile long and we had to do five laps.  There were people with air horns and huge country flags on both sides all the way around.  I couldn’t hear my own bike half of the time.  I was about mid-pack at the finish and didn’t really care.  One of the funniest memories is going into the first turn with 40 other riders about mid-pack and seeing everyone’s brake lights light up in the first turn. That was surreal. As I rode around the last lap, I started getting crazy.  I was smiling ear to ear.  I hung in there and realized a childhood dream.  I battled through several roadblocks.  I think back and realize that I might not have been smart enough to give up.  Going back to the speeding ticket that I got on the course, I asked the cop how long I had to pay the ticket.  He said 30 days.  I said, I don’t have my ID, but my name is Troy R. Hough (get it..TRH) aka Ed Keeley from Houston, Texas and come get the money if you can.  Thank You very much…check is in the mail.  As I wheelied away (not really, I was too fatigued to wheelie) I realized that Ed can probably never go to Finland.  After we made it back to the USA pits, all of the riders were tearing down their bikes to place back in the container.  I was on the edge of the security barrier and thousands of Six Days fans were there trying to get anything they could from the US riders.  I completely stripped my bike of tires, sprockets, brake pads, chain, and literally sold the gear off of my body.  I think that I made 300 or 400 bucks.  I couldn’t believe people actually wanted this stuff.  I gave away tons of stickers.  By 7pm that night I was officially cooked.  All I wanted was to go to sleep for a week.  Nope, once everything was packed up, all US riders were going to the town club and partied until 2am.  Wake up was 6am to get to the airport.  Let’s just say that it was a quiet flight.  As we were boarding the flight home, someone started a rumor that the flight would be held up until all speeding tickets were paid.  After many calls for Ed Keeley by the authorities, it was obvious that he was not going to pay his ticket and was considered to be an international fugitive at that point.  Most of the riders had received tickets during the event.  I think ESPN’s Jerry Bernanrdo had five just from the rental car.  I think everyone was too tired to care.  The door to the plane closed and we were on our way to the USA.  

At the finish, the USA trophy team finished third, the Junior Trophy team had a rough time with DNF’s, the Club team that Guy Cooper was on got first place.  The Trail Riders of Houston Club Team consisting of Rip Woodard, Manny Garza, and I ended up in 17th.  I finished the event with a Bronze medal.  I was 72nd in the 250 2 stroke class.  I think there were 120 riders in that class alone.  When I got home, I figured out that not counting the bike, going to the Six Days cost about $6k.  TRH held a Tag Team Hare Scramble and donated the proceeds to the TRH Club Team.  I had several other people that helped me out financially that I will forever be grateful for.

Bottomline, I did it and I had an incredible experience in the process.  I got to meet and get to know the top Pro riders of the time.  Ty Davis, Rodney Smith, Steve Hatch, Scott Summers, Mike Lafferty and Guy Cooper are all very nice people.  I was treated like a rockstar by the American supporters that traveled with the team and could not have accomplished my goal without them.  Consider every 30 miles of a 180 mile course as a gas stop.  At each gas stop are all of the gas, tools, and food that you could use.  It takes volunteers to make it all happen.  If you ever get a chance to go and support the USA Team, I guarantee that you will love the experience and cherish it forever. 

Lynn Bailey