THE HITS KEEP COMING

by Randy Faul

As you might have read in one of my past articles where a number of us were freight training at the Croom Park and a twig jumped out in front of me, well the mishaps don’t just happen there. Fast forward to an undisclosed location (questionable property) that I ride from the house frequently and things were just off a tic there also.

I know some of you know that word Tic and it just seems to find me when I least expect it. The margin of error was within spec but I didn’t get the memo. Once again, the “when in doubt gas it”, “pin it to win it” and just “send it” did not apply in this case. My loop consists of a little bit of orange grove, pepper bushes and some dark thick single track that gets the heart rate up. Being that I know this loop like the back of my hand, I figured a moderate pace on the first lap would get everything warmed up.

Everything went fine the first time around so I picked it up some and started working the suspenders pretty aggressively and all was golden until a foreign object appeared out of one of the fast sweepers dropping into the single track. I guess the first lap disturbed this intruder to the point that it blocked the trail. Can you say wide glide and I am not talking Harley Davidson here.

The pork chops on this thing would have been massive on the grill with some everglades seasoning. This wasn’t any pig, this thing qualified as Hogzilla! I hit the hind quarters of this monster as he crossed the trail and that’s all she wrote. Down and out, wadded up, yard sale or whatever you want to call it, I got spit off. Sounded like a murder was happening, as the squeal could have been heard for a half mile or so. I’m lying on the ground trying to remember what happened and I thought as long as I heard the squealing and not grunting, I probably wasn’t going to be attacked.

As I picked myself up, Hogzilla was doing circles next to my bike as I staggered away from the circus and got behind a tree, just in case. Things could have been worse as some of these wild things don’t back down and actually stand their ground or even charge at you. Twisted forks ended my afternoon but no animal was seriously hurt, just bruised. As far as the rider, yes I should not be riding alone and two; the forks and the front end are fine.

I guess back to Croom where I can hit things and watch my buddies ride off into the sunset where they don’t even look back and then tell me to step up my game, I guess it’s better than hitting hogs

Stay tuned for Chapter 3

Randy

It is safe to say the photographers are stoked for another year of racing!