On Any Sunday

Enduro riding is not much of a spectator sport. You don't ride laps. They are a point to point course.
If you want to watch someone, you had to go to a particular spot and wait for your favorite rider to pass, then go to the next point.  You might get to watch your rider two or three times on the course.  Therefore, my family pit crew would have to find something to do for four hours waiting on me to make it to the finish and go home.  With three young kids, it became less fun for my wife.  She found it was a lot more comfortable to take the kids to Lake Winnepesaukah and then come home, rather than entertaining them in some remote area of the South. 

By 1976 I had made friends with riders from all parts of the country with a similar enthusiasms to mine.  So I began to make the trips alone or with a local friend that just wanted to get out of town.  By this time I was a serious competitor.  I had a chance at every event to "trophy".  I even began training to improve my performance.  I started running distances at a local track and increased weight training.

I had purchased a new 250WR Husqvarna. At the time it was one of the most competitive enduro bikes.  The Japanese bikes were starting to become more and more popular as the European bike numbers dwindled.  Still, the Husqvarna and Penton were the dominant bikes "On any  Sunday".

Water crossing near Anderson, SC. Note Honda rider getting passed

By now I was able to finish every race I entered without being disqualified.  I was adept at keeping time.  My main weakness was riding in real muddy conditions and long, tight woods trails.  These were the sections that I lost time and usually determine whether I would trophy.  During 1976 and 1977 I collected about a dozen trophies,  numerous plaques and medals.  My best finish was second in my class in the Talladega National Forest Enduro.  I got some thirds and fourths and even got a trophy for finishing 13th at an Athens, GA event.

The enduro season ran from September through May of the next year.  A lot of time the weather was just cold.  I remember riding in East Tennessee on a nice 60 degree day, but it had been cold and snowy prior to that day.  When you got on the east side of the mountain snow and ice were still on the course.  One such ride was a 150 mile one day trial that started in Maryville, TN and went through the foothills of the Great Smoky Mountains.  During the course of the event you were in North Carolina as well as Tennessee.  It was extremely cold, but as long as you were riding hard your body heat was up and you didn't notice it.  The race finished up on a mountain and you had a ten mile ride just to get back to the staging area.  This was the time you should be able to relax.  However, When I started back down blisters on my had burst and I was bleeding through my gloves.   My rear end was raw from bouncing on the seat.  When I stood up on the pegs, my hands hurt.  When I sat on the seat, my butt hurt.  It was a long ten miles down the mountain.  I got a bronze plaque for that ride.

Another ride outside Greenville, SC I was doing well.  With about 10 miles to go, I had only lost about 8 points and was heading for another finish.  I was riding on a power line right of way with long sloping hills.  I had passed another rider at the top of one hill and was jumping the erosion humps with precision.  Suddenly I hit one but, there were two  humps. In an instant panic, I backed off the throttle before the rear wheel was airborne and quickly did a nose dive and flipped over the handle bars with the Husky running over me.  I was a little shook, but only had some sore ribs.  The rider I had passed earlier caught up, stopped and asked if I was OK.  The crash must have been spectacular as the other rider turned around and went back up the hill.  I restarted my bike and took off.  When I got to the bottom a water filled ditch had to be crossed.  With my confidence gone and chest hurting, I laid the bike down in the water, drowning out my bike.  As I pulled it out of the ditch, I looked up to see an ambulance making its way down the slope.  They were coming for me.  The paramedic checked me out, put a band aid on my nose and sent me on my way.  I finished out of the money that day.

By now, I was a decent rider and didn't fall very much.  But, when I did it was spectacular.  One fall took the hide off my arm from my elbow to my wrist.  Another time I fell on my shoulder.  That was the only time I went to the doctor and it was the emergency room, but nothing was broken.  The little finger on my right hand stayed swollen from clipping small trees in tight woods sections.  It was only after I quit riding did it get well.

By the end of 1977 I had cut back on the number of events.  My boys had started playing sports and I was coaching or watching their activities.  In addition,  my training had led me to increase my running.  I began to enter some 10K events.  By the time I moved back to Texas in late 1979, I rode only a couple events each year. 

After moving to Texas I had some neighbors that rode and I entered 8 or 10 enduros on the Texas circuit.  I had lost some interest as running had become a higher priority.  My last enduro was an enduro in Terlingua, TX in 1982.   I parked my Husky in the barn and it remained there for twenty years. 

The Last Enduro in the snow: Terlingua,Texas