sendero

Beave! That's gotta be the best post I've ever seen outa you! Right on, and yes, the Ringmaster sports a full rack of choneys. ...as does the Champ. Geoff Aaron made us proud. What a ride! Consider the accomplishment... Riding outside of his discipline, he smoked a bunch of the best Hare and Hound guys in the country. A BUNCH! Some big names in there, and he beat 'em in their own element. Can you imagine the converse? I think we all know what would happen if any of those guys tried to ride Trials with him. He could have 'em calling for the helicopter in less than five minutes. I had to laugh when the announcer said "he is a Trials rider." HA!!! He is THE Trials rider!!!

Stay tuned to this topic for the forthcoming Sendero Report, where our hero tries to qualify for the Endurocross in Las Vegas tommorrow.

To summon the Ringmaster, one must squeal like a pig.

Ringo, I've got press pass done already. I was even able to duplicate the hologram. You're in, dude. Don't forget the Groucho mask. Now all we need is a heads up on the bibs...

The last few weekends of ridin' have taken their toll on me mentally. Not only have I spent considerable time out on the loops with Ringo and Bagg, but I've had to stop a hunnerd times, removing and putting back on, my 10 year old MSR helmet. Seems EVERY time I get my rythym, something starts buzzin' around, diggin' for any wax filled orfice it can find, causing a panic stop and panic removal of said helmet. "Geez Sendero, you stopping AGAIN?!?" "I swear Ringo! There's something living in this helmet! I think I got a Helmet Crab. Possibly Africanized. It's been getting more and more agressive the last few weekends." "Yea right. You're breathing awful hard for a guy who's supposed to know how to ride. I think you're fakin' with this "Helmet Crab" nonsense.." "Fakin' my ***! It's in there! It's been in there for the last couple weeks, and I can't find the little *******!" I swat at the inside of the helmet again, shake it around a little, but as usual... nothing. "How come the... ahem... "Helmet Crab"... only surfaces on long steep downhills with loose helmet sized rocks?" "Oh shut up. It's for real man! I'm struggling here!" "C'mon Sendero. Put the helmet back on and let's go." "I gotta find this thing and kill it. What if it's a brown recluse? It could bore into my brain. I could get dead. Ever see that Star Trek episode where..." "C'MON! LET"S GO!!!" "OK. OK." Braaaaap. Screech. Slide. Stop. "Wadaya doin' Sendero. You could have been killed. I almost rear ended ya." "Damn It's baaack again Oh GOD!!! I can't take it man! This is drivin me nuts! I gotta find this thing and kill it!" "Yea, I'm hip. It's drivin' all of us nuts, now let's RIDE!!! Besides, once he gets a taste of what you're growin' in your ears, it's gonna die anyway, now let's go." And so it has gone, for the last few weekends. Finally last weekend I had enough. A quick trip to the local cycle shop was in order. "Hey Sendero... long time no see. What can I help you with?" "Take a look in this helmet." "Uh... Why?" "Cuz there's something living in it." "Oh, I see. You got smoked again and this is your new excuse." "Oh shut it. Ya got something that will find it and kill it?" "Hey... maybe it's one of your old mullet hairs. How old is that helmet again?" "Damn. Is that OTHER cycle shop down the street still open?" "Relax. It's just a Helmet Crab." "How'd you know?" "I seen it a thousand times." "Really..." "Yea. There's not much you can do. Here. Try one of these new lids right over here." "Wow. That fits nice. Ya got one without the purple and chrome flames?" "No." "OK. I'll take it." Home I went. I hid the new lid waaaaay back in the van, walked in the house and sat down with a handful of cookies and a glass of chocolate milk, afterwhich I would do my daily thumb exercises in the life sucking chair. During the post-workout nap, the back slider flung open and Spork (my son) and the Spoiler (Mrs. Sendero) came walkin' in... "Dad Dad Dad! Check out what I got!" "Whut?" "I got a new helmet." "What? You got a new helmet?! You just got a new helmet a couple months ago, for cryin' out loud!" switching my look of death to the Spoiler... "Don't look at me! He's your son!" said the Spoiler. "Daaaad. I had a Helmet Crab. You know how it is. I think I got it from you."

Thanks to ESPN Classics for reminding us from where we came, showing the world the greatest movie ever made, about the greatest sport in the world, enjoyed by the greatest people in the world. Those of us that rode those motorcycles, in that era, enjoyed a very unique experience in life. Never again will it happen, but it is our duty to preserve it's gifts for the benefit of future generations. I lump up and squirt 'em every time I see that flick. Sendero

I am terribly sorry to hear the sad news that the UK has just suffered a similar loss to that which the US suffered on 9-11. A quick recovery to those that were injured and Godspeed to those that did not survive. I pray for freedom's sake, that our leaders soon find a way to get the message across to the confused ones, that this barbarism is not necessary to lead a peaceful and fulfilling life.

"Dang! Did you see the stinger on that scorpion? Musta been six inches long. Good thing I stomped it. What? You're callin' me on that? It mighta killed somebody!" "Hey! Look at this! Somebody greased my pegs! It was probably Ringo. He does that kinda thing all the time. Re-ride!" "Ya see that chick over there in the yellow tube top? Yea. Now look at the size of them things and tell me you're gonna give me a point for that? C'mon... I should get a re-ride." "Oops. Was I ridin' in your section? Silly me. Hope I didn't mess it up for the guys that are actually ridin' in this event. Get this... I just saw a guy that looked exactly like me a ways back there. Same exact gear and bike. Amazing! He should be comin' thru real soon. See ya." "Oh man. I cannot believe this nagging Curling injury will not heal. It's awful hard to ride Trials with a herniated aortical repticial cortus dioptices corpuscle."

Ditto what Carliechitlin said. Don't forget the second half of the chore... spray lube the chain and pivot points on levers, kickstand, kickstarter, pegs, shifter and rear brake ends. Mother's on the spoke nipples.

Primordius Methanus, It's good to hear from you again, however, sorry to hear about all the tragedy. I wish you all the best. Chime in with us juveniles anytime. Hopefully we can cheer you up a little. It's good to have an "old and wise one" around...

Ring... "Yo." "Hey Bender, ya wanna come over for some Backyard Boulder Hoppin'?" "Naw. I gotta plug the hole in my bass boat today." "Which one?" "The 12 gauge one." "Which BOAT, ya moron, not which hole!" "A River Runs Thru It." "I thought you sold that one." "No. The guy backed out. Said somethin' about the name. Musta been superstitious or somethin'." "C'mon over. I got a big new step in the yard here." "Big?" "Backyard Bigness, Baby." "I'll be right over." "Cool." click The Bender came over... without his bike. I let him ride the Techno. Hell, he's my brother, and he never actually breaks anything, he just bends everything. Thus, "The Bender". We suited up and rode from the garage to the rocks. 35 feet. "Where's Riley?" "He's suckin' up pastel colored umbrella laiden cocktails in the Bahamas." "Well... Why's his truck still here?" "He flew. Imagine that... and get this... he sold the truck to Ringo." "Ringo?" "Yea Ringo, and get this... Ringo stole it for 20k! A brand spankin' new 2002 F-250 4x4 Crew Cab 4 door turbo diesel, with less than 30 thousand miles on it. Can you believe that? This thing sold for 47k new! I'm gonna deliver it to Ringo over the holidays." "Well anyway, where's this big step?" Ring... "Darned phone. I'll be right back." I whipped off my helmet and ran to the phone... "Hello and I'm not interested." "GET AWAY FROM MY TRUCK!" "Ringo. Howz it goin'?" "Just step the hell away from it Sendero, and don't EVEN drive it." "Dude, relax. I'm just sittin' here in the Life Sucking Chair, with a fresh set of batteries in the remote, steady clickin' 'em off, and watchin' the truck thru the window. It's fine." "That's right, Sendero. You BETTER be watchin' it, and if you drive it I'll beat you to a pulp." "Easy Mongo. I'll keep an eye on it for ya. Only 27 more days and it's yours... and try to call me only during the commercials, ok?" click. "Who was that?" "Ringo." "Every five minutes?" "Yup." The Bender's eyes opened wide... "Heeeeey... I know... Let's take it out in the desert and jump it! Let's see what one of these baby's can do!" (four raised eyebrows and a moment of silent contemplation) "Naw, we better not. Ringo's alright. No reason to beat on his stuff behind his back, ya know what I mean?" "Yea, cool. Now where's this big new step?" "Right here..." "Wow. That IS big., Think you can do it?" "I think I can, but I know you can't." "Get outa my way old man! I'll huck that easy!" Ring... I whipped off my helmet and ran to the phone... "Hello and I'm not interested." "JUST BACK THE HELL OFF, SENDERO! I KNOW YOU'RE THINKIN' ABOUT DRIVIN' IT! GET AWAY!" "Ringmaster, will ya relax? Hold on a second... (hand over phone, but just enough so Ringo could hear) Honey? Can ya get me another pack of Twinkies out of the fridge? Thanks dear. Oh, and how bout another glass of that chocolate milk? What a sweetheart you are. Love ya... Ok, I'm back." "You are so full of it Sendero. Just don't let anything happen to it, or bodies are gonna hit the floor!" "It''ll be just like Riley left it. Pristine. Including the custom Trials Graphics he had made for it.' "Trials Graphics?" "Yea. You'll dig 'em. Way cool." "YOU DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING ABOUT TRIALS GRAPHICS! WADDAYA TRYIN' TO PULL HERE SENDERO!" "Hey Ringo, gotta go man. The fat tattooed lesbo is takin' off her top and beating her toothless boyfriend again." click back to the rocks... "Ringo?" "Yup." the Bender... looking at the big new step... "Wow. This is big. How ya gonna do it?" "Welp, here's what I'm thinkin'... Third gear, leave from here, about a level 9 zap to here, front wheel landing here, about 6 inch lateral left rear wheel to here, and stop. Now you gotta bunny or flip a 90 to set up for this. Better hit this fast and light cuz there's no traction here, plant one if you have to here, and your up. Now it's two easy drops and out. Got it?" "Wow... I'm gonna have to let this one go, but I could nail it if I had more bike time and less fish in the freezer. Let's go do the regular stuff." "Yea. Im with ya. But at least I got you off the couch. I'm gonna nail this one. It's just a matter of time." ring... "Hello and I'm not interested." "WHAT'S THIS CRAP ABOUT TRIALS GRAPHICS, SENDERO? TELL ME EVERYTHING! THIS COULD BE A DEAL KILLER YA KNOW!" "Hold on a second Ringo... LATER BENDER! GET SOME REST! YA RODE ALMOST THREE MINUTES TODAY!... Ok, I'm back." "Waddaya tryin' to pull here, Sendero?" "Nothing. Not a thing. Just before Riley left, he went down to the sign shop and had some really cool Trials Graphics made for it. Nothing outrageous, very subdued, but a Trials rider would know what he was lookin' at. You'll be a hit in the pits for sure. Trust me." "I don't like this, Sendero. I don't like it one bit!" "Relax. Riley keeps so much wax on the darned thing, if ya don't like 'em, they'll probably just wipe right off." "THIS IS BULLSH..." "Ringo? Hello? you're breakin' up. Hello?" "I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME YOU SON OF A B..." Ringo? Get to a land line, dude, I can't hear a word you're sayin'." "!@#$%^&" click I went back to the big step. I looked it over one last time and let it fly. As soon as I dropped off the last step and out, I bolted for the phone. Ring... "Yo." "Bender! I did it! I hucked that bad boy and only dropped two. I had to plant twice in the 90 to the right, but I made it! Yeeee Haaaa!" "You're kidding! That's huge for such an old fat guy like you. Gnarly. Tell me everything." "Well, I kinda cheated." "AHA!! I knew it! You had to cheat, didn't ya!" "Yea, well the I moved the truck forward a little to get the raised white letters of the front tire in just the right spot. When I popped up on the hood I had to drop two to get turned, but once I got over the windshield it was a piece of cake, down, down, and out." "Any damage to the truck?" "Ha! Nothin' major. One windshield wiper arm and some tire tracks." "He's gonna freak!" "I'll just tell him the tire tracks are actually Trials Graphics or something. Oops. Got another call. Later."

At the last WW in Duluth, we find our hero (Ringo) outside the facility during the event, however, not by his own choice. Not being satisfied with the "reasons" that I was given for this spectacle, I did a little research and have been able to piece together the truth, or at least we're a little closer to the truth, with the new found evidence we have to work with. I'll start from the very beginning, for those that might not be up to speed... Rrrrring: "Hello and I'm not interested." "Sendero! It's me! Ringo! Dude, I am in big, big trouble." "Trouble?" "Yea. This is big." "Did you get caught poachin' Gerbils again?" "OH SHUT UP!" "OK. OK. What's up?" "I got booted from the world round." "Noooo!" "Yea! Booted right out of the place!" "You're kidding!" "No man, I'm not kidding. Booted out!" "I gotta hear this! But I can't listen right now. I'll call you back in ten minutes. I got another call. Cool?" "Cool." Click I immediately called my Minnesota connection for the scoop on the Ringmaster's antics. I wrote it all down and called the Ringmaster back... Ring: "Sendero!" "Yea, it's me. Now... tell me everything, and don't fudge, twist, bend, tweak, or leave out, anything. I want the whole truth and nothing but the truth, and I WILL verify all this. Start from the beginning." "OK. There I was mindin' my own business when a stationwagon full of blondes pulled into the McDonalds parking lot....' "Not THAT beginning! Start from when you did whatever you did to get booted." "Ok. There I was, at section three, mindin' my own business, doin' a little video work. I always shoot film at the world stuff. Ya want a copy? Five bucks. " "We'll get to that. Now back to the story." "Ok. So I get to the section, lay out all my angles, the lighting, the whole nine, ya know, and I'm all set up and ready. The checker comes over and we make a little small talk, I got my press bib on and everything's cool. The checker goes back to his spot and here come the riders. I was doin' a shot where I had to walk backwards to fill the screen and I accidently tripped over the tape and fell on my ass, right in to the section. Thank God nobody was ridin' yet. " "Wait. Let me get this straight. You were filming, and walking backwards, and nobody was ridin' yet?" "Yea." "Hold on, let me write this down... Ok. Shoot..." "Ok, so I'm layin' there, Friexa mumbles some foreign profanity at me, and I immediately look over at the checker. He's got a radio this friggin' big, it's stuck to his face sideways, and he's talkin' into it and lookin' right at me! I quickly jump up and out of the section and apologize to everyone within earshot. The checker lowers the radio and seems to be over it, so I go about my business. Ten minutes later he's kickin' me out for no reason!" "No reason?" "Yea! No reason! He was the most bib-heavy checker ya ever seen! A real power trippin' Joe Friday type, ya know. You shoulda heard what he said to me!" "Whad he say?" "He said "I know your kind, mister. Yea, you and your rock and roll good time buddies come out here from California with all that hair and loud music, thinkin' we're justa buncha turnip truck drivers out here, don't ya? Yea, just a hayseed bunch of beet farmers, huh? Well I got news for ya, Hot Rod. We don't put up with your kind out here. We don't want your kind anywher'es around here, and I'll be watchin' you every step of the way. You slip up once, just once, and you'll be beetin' your little turnip in a Minnesota jail, boy!" I tried to talk nice. I apologized and everything. I even whipped my best Eddie Haskel on him, but nothin' would cut any ice with that guy! Nothin'!" "So Ringo... What about the Lampkin incedent?" "You heard about that?" "Yup. It's all over the web. Let's here your side of the story." "Ok. Well again, there I was..." "I know... mindin' your own business." "Yea, and this cute little blonde with jubs out to here, was havin' a hard time seeing, so in my gentlemenly way of course, I was merely showing her how to climb this tree that was right next to the section. While she was tryin' to climb it, I figured I'd shoot some film of it, and Joe Friday freaked right out! Went bug nuts!" "So what did Lampkin have to do with it?" "Well, as it turns out, while all this was goin' on, Lamkin was ridin' the section, spotted the blonde, stopped and balanced on a boulder, watched the blonde climbin' the tree, stayed there a little too long, and got timed out for a big fat five. You shoulda heard him reemin' Joe Friday for a re-ride, and I knew Friday was gonna take it out on me. The radio was up to his face again and he was lookin' right at me. But he didn't boot me for it, I don't think he had the time, so it was all good." "OK. Give me a second here... I'm writing.... Ok. What about the Fujinami incedent?" "You heard about that too?" "Yup." "All over the web?" "Yup" "Ok. Ok. This was not my fault. I had nothing to do with it. It was trick of fate I tell ya. Fujinami's gettin' ready to ride. I'm all set up to film it, and right thru the veiwfinder walks theee biggest rack of milk white Minnesota Duds ya ever seen. My God they were incredible! I just HAD to work with this one, ya know what I mean? So I lowered the camera and introduced myself to her, forgetting all about Fujinami, and we got on the subject of music. That's always a good ice breaker, ya know. Well, turns out she liked classic rock (puke) but I had to sound impressed, so I told her my favorite classic rock band was Toto. All of a sudden, Fujinami jumps off his bike, runs over to me and whips up his best Kung Fu stance, and he's gonna downright kick my ass, right then, right there! Joe Friday runs up to him and grabs him from behind, but Fujinami is focused and he wants me bad." "What the hell happened? What set him off?" "Well, Friday was bigger than Fujinami, so he was able to hold him back, but let me tell ya, if looks could kill, and I think Fujinami woulda pounded me, too. A regular little Samurai ass kicker, that guy. Friday's radio was back on his face and again, he was lookin' right at me." "I'm still in the dark here, Ringo... What set off Fujinami?" "Well, I asked his minder the same question. Turns out that "Toto" means TOILET in japanese, and he thought I called him a "tiolet". Who woulda known?!?" "You called Fujinami a "toilet"? Geez, you can't win, can ya?" "I know. I didn't do anything! I was just talkin' to the chick!" "So what did Friday do?" "The radio was stuck to his face again, lookin' right at me. Probably callin' in an airstrike, but it got busy and I never heard a word, so it was all still ok, or so I thought." "Ok.... give me a minute.... OK. Got it. Let's move on. What was the Raga incedent all about?" "Geez. There are no secrets left in today's world... I don't know what to tell ya about this one... I still don't understand it. Raga was ridin' the section. I was filming it. He had an entourage of little Spanish honey's that were following him all around. Well, little did I know, following the honey's were what must have been undercover Spanish bodyguards." "Bodyguards?" "Yup. Bodyguards. Musta been thirty of 'em. The honey's were to my right, and right behind them were the... bodyguards... I guess. Anyway, I'm filming Raga and he's coming from my left. As I panned to the right, following Raga, the little Spanish honey's came into the viewfinder, and BAM! I was out like a light. I never saw it coming. Somehow I got knocked out and wound up sprawled on the ground, inside the tape. Musta been from behind, I don't know, but I was out cold for a while. When I woke up, I was layin' on the ground and Friday was lookin' down at me, his ugly face about six inches from mine, and you guessed it... the radio was stuck to his face again and he was lookin' right thru me. They grabbed me up and Full Nelson'ed my butt right out of the park, for NO REASON! I didn't do anything!" "Man, Ringo. You got screwed. You didn't do anything and you got booted for no reason." "Yea. Booted for no reason." "Dude. Hate to interupt, but I gotta go. I'll talk at ya later. I gotta go clean behind the stove and dishwasher for Mrs. Sendero. See ya." "Later. HEY! Ya want a video? Five bucks?" "Yea, send me one. The check's in the mail. Gotta go dude." "Later." I immediately got on the phone to my Minnesota connection and got the phone # for the checker, aka "Joe Friday"... Ring: "Hello." "Hi, Mr. Friday?" "That's me." "My name is Sendero and I'm a sportswriter for Trials World Orama, known as the Big T.W.O. We are a web-zine that gets about a thousand giga-hits a day. We're based here in Bent Spoke, Texas, with a little satellite office down in Cairo. Ya heard of us?" "No, and I'm not interested." "But sir, sir! I'm not selling anything. I'm just calling to get your thoughts on the recent world round in Duluth. You checked section three didn't you?" "Why, yes we did. Me and Sweet Pea, my little teenage daughter. We checked that section. It was her first time checkin' and it brought tears of joy to her Daddy's eyes." "And a fine job you did sir! We here at the big T.W.O. would like to thank you in person for helping out at that event." "Weeeell, you're quite welcome, sonny, now what can I do for ya?" " Well sir, we hope you can confirm reports of a disorderly person who had to be removed from your fine section, and ultimately from the entire facility. Can you tell us your side of the story?" "Oooh yea. THAT YAY-HOO!!! I'm tellin' ya what... I knew that boy was nothin' but trouble the moment I seen them "Girls Gone Wild" stickers on the sides of his video camera!" Sendero

LIES! LIES and more LIES! What kind of twisted internet based dis-information campaign are you runnin' here anyway, Ringworm? Haven't you done enough damage to this sport? Lie #1 Denying the fact that you drank my beer leads anyone with any snap at all to believe that you DID drink my beer. Anybody who pays attention would know that I only drink the Best... Milwauki's Best Light that is... and there aint no way you would stoop to that level. That's why I drink the stuff. Ya can't give it away. Lie #2 Beta "buying frenzy"? Ha! It was a Beta shopper's frenzy! If they really wanted to BUY a Beta (with polished spoke nipples) they would have contacted me... and why would I ever want to sell a Beta anyway? We're talkin' lifetime scooters when we're talkin about Beta's. The classifieds are for chunky Montesa's and Saggers. Lie #3 I did get a check... a de-commision check, but it didn't come from Beta. Lie #4 It was an '02 and a '99 Beta, and the price was way lower than that. The only shred of truth to your post was the "brand new" part. Yes, they are brand new, and always will be, no matter how many seasons I put on 'em. Eric, Don't even think about buyin' Ringworm's Montesa! Save yourself! I've seen where that thing has been. When he rode it up on stage during his big showcase extravaganza at the Swingin' Donkey a Go Go, in Tijuana, Mexico, I knew it was over for that little scooter. The bike was forever ruined as well.

Eric, Admittedly, it does sound a lot like Bagg, but he's not getting the credit for this one. Bagg would have faked the whole thing and watched from the fire pit with one eye open. That's why I like him. He's no dummy. Dabnabit, Howzitgoin' ? I always remember a smiling face and a positive attitude! Update: I had to have my Trials Growth removed. It was offensive to too many people, and for that I apolgize. Sorry...

MX is dangerous? As compared to what? Trials? Oh, how I beg to differ... Trials is way more dangerous than MX. Tell me this aint so... It starts with the driving. Danger! Looooong drives, swirling with drunks, motorhome racers, high velocity tractor/trailer rigs, curvy mountanous roads, and cops everywhere lookin' to bust ya for speeding. Heaven forbid you have to stop for gas. Danger! You'll end up answering mundane questions about those "funny lookin' bikes", and if that aint dangerous enough for you, you could wind up listening to stories about how some guy used to do "a hunnerd mile'n hour 'cross the desert" on a what was probably a Greeves, or a Zundapp. Even if you make it to the Trials site with no citation or traffic accident, it just gets worse from there. As soon as you pull off the road, you are still in jeapoardy. Watch out for the off road cops lookin' to bust you for no sparkies, for ridin' off the existing road and trail, or blame you for somebody else's trash pile. Keep your eyes peeled for old fire pits in the middle of the road. Boxnails! Danger! Then you drive around lookin' for a camp spot, all the while pinstripin' the sides of your spiffy new ride with indigenous foliage. Not only that, but the bikes that you spent all Friday night prepping, are now covered with dust and you haven't even unloaded 'em yet. Image danger! You jump out and you're ready to party, right? Oops. You parked in somebody's "reserved spot". Danger! If you come away from that confrontation unscathed, you move to the next spot. Usually somewhere around the porta-cans. Check the wind, and step out slowly so ya don't get mowed by a pre-teen pit racer or a 65mph off-road golfcart. I carry a yellow flag with me for walkin' around in the pits. Not sayin' that they will not still "try to pass" on a yellow, but at least I'm hip to the danger. Then you suit up and go for a ride. Watch out! This is where it really gets dangerous. The course is half marked, and "marked" trails lead to nowhere till just before the event. If you see anyone ridin' anything that is not a trials bike, go the other way, or you will spend the day answering mundane questions about those "funny lookin' bikes" again, or you could get dozed by some idiot on a CR, tryin' to prove to a bunch of "old men" that he's faster than Ryan Hughes, out on the loops. Either way it's not good. Danger! So you make it back to your truck and it just gets more dangerous. There are bags of other people's trash plastered all around your truck and the ants and bees have taken over your camp. Your food is half eaten by either the ants or your buddies, you can't tell for sure, and half your beer is gone. The bees are soppin' up the half drank beers and buzzing accordingly, and the ants are lappin' up all the soda partials layin' around. You quickly police it all up, cuz the off-road cops are still in the area. Danger! Soonthereafter you notice that your spiffy new ride has been GANKED by some kid that leaned his bike (with no grips) against it, and half your race gas is gone. Your toolbox is open and your tire pump is not to be found. When you get it all put back to normal, you grab a sandwich and settle in for some partyin' by the fire. Don't let your guard down now! It aint over yet! You plop your chair by the fire, and while rubbing your smoke filled eyes, your buddy comes up and says... "Hey dude. Good to see ya again. Oh man, my bike's not runnin' right. Hey, can I grab one of them frosties, dude? Thanks." (pop-fizz) "It's never done this before. Whaddaya think?" You already know your gonna spend the rest of the evening working on other peoples' neglected stuff and lookin' around for the rest of your tools. You ever notice you're never lookin' around for the missing 15mm combo wrench? Hell no! It's always the 8, 10, 12, 13, 14, and 17, that just happens to fall out of your toolbox, or your brand new trick SK t-handle allens. While you're workin' on HIS bike, he's taken up your spot by the fire and tellin' his stories. Up walks his kid... "Hey, Sendero... I got a flat on my bike. Can I use your pump?" "Sure Kid, it should be in your DAD'S gear bag. Need a set of grips for that trick little scooter ya got there, too? HUH? HUH?" The kid quickly takes off. An hour later you've killed the rat that was livin' in his airbox, and get the bike running. You look over at the fire and there's your buddy, passed out with one of your beers spillin' all over his balls. The kid comes back... "Hey Sendero. It won't hold air. What do I do now?" It's almost dark. "What's your DAD got goin' right now?" "He's sleeping." "Wake him up!" "I can't wake him up. He'll kill me when he finds out I got another flat." "ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! I'LL FIX IT! Just don't start ballin'!" You finally get all "your" work done and grab a seat by the fire. It is now dark. You would think that the danger would have subsided by now, but no. You tell your stories and laugh at everyone else's, till 11:30pm. Ya got the party crowd blarin' Zombie on one side of the pits, and on the other side are all the people that are outraged by it. Ya just sit there, shake your head and swill, till it all fades to black. You wake up the next morning, at 5:30am, to the tune of a mini-bike with your air in it's tire, and your buddy with the now perfect running bike is all fresh, cuz he's had 14 hours of sleep, and you're all hung out cuz you didn't get to sleep till 2am. You lay there and don't move cuz you know if you get up too early there could be danger out there. You finally get up 15 minutes before rider's meeting. Ha! They don't have time to get to me now! You pop up, scramble for a cup of coffee, tape up your gashed fingers from changing a mini-tire the night before, throw your gear on real quick, and bolt for rider's meeting. You're safe! Now is the only time you not in danger... during the event. But danger does lurk... If you see a bike stopped on the loop, don't EVEN slow down. Screw it on, Baby! Blaze on thru like you're late for your own wedding! Go ahead and wave, but stopping is dangerous. Very dangerous. You ride the event, you were not in danger, and you had a great time. You police up all your stuff and... hey... what's this? You've got two bikes and THREE tie-downs. What the? Well I guess there was indeed danger during the event, but nobody got hurt, so what the hell... You rob the cords from your jacket and your sleeping bag, tie them together and lash the oldest bike down with them. Now only your oldest bike is danger, right? Nope. On the way to the highway, the knot slips, sending your oldest bike careening into the new bike and takes out the front brake master cylinder... on the new bike... Nice! You try a different knot and take off. By now you're starving. DANGER! You order up a couple Big Macs for the ride home. You jump on the highway and open up the Big Macs and you quickly remember why you swore you would never order fast food on Sunday evening ever again. They always schedule the dummies to work on Sunday evening. Real bonified morons. Danger! Count your change! But you're starving, so you eat the slop anyway and wipe the rest of it off the upholstery of your spiffy new ride, at 85 miles per hour, with the ONE napkin they gave you. Danger at high speed! The road trip home is ever bit as dangerous as the trip to the event. No need to repeat that, but add the fact that you are now very tired, covered in dried ketchup, and your ass is glued to the seat of your spiffy new ride. You finally make it home and you think the danger is over... HA! Not a chance! You pull up the driveway and there is the little Mrs. standing in the doorway, with one hand on her hip, the other hand holding a stack of bills, and volumes 3 thru 7 of her 245 page Honey-Do-List. No, my friend... Motocross isn't dangerous... TRIALS is dangerous! Sendero

Something stinks to High Heaven here... Can someone (besides Ringo) please explain how Ringo got booted from the World Round, for entering the "press area" of a section with the wrong bib on? How do you get from a simple bib violation (a very respectable act of lawlessnes in some circles, by the way) to words like "antics", "ask me to leave the event", and "tarnish the reputation of TFM" ? I gotta hear this... Preface by saying the guy flies out to Duluth, from the Left Coast (no political affiliation implied) to enjoy the event, film it for others to enjoy, support the sport, root for the homies, party with friends, etc. and he gets booted?!?! One of the sport's most enthusiastic personalities gets booted? This oughta be good... Maybe it was one of those 500- dollar-a-day guys, packin' a full-auto radio about this big... Hell, for 5 benjamins a day, I'd check all day AND boot people, even if it meant I had to boot Jesse Ventura himself. Just kidding, Jesse.

JTT, Short skirts are always OK by me... but back to the topic. Did I read that right? 37 thousand miles and the pistons needed replaced? Geez... That's NOT good. I just hope they make the HRC iron-clad dependable, with longevity. I'm 99.9% sure they will. It's a Honda thing. The Betas have spoiled me rotten.

Yea, that's what they always say. It softens everybody up for the new price. Funny how a fat wad of cashish can tweak the supply/demand ratio. Of course if it does turn out to be true, I'm sure the Italians would like to see some more of my ill-gotten gain. Hey, speaking of which... Does anyone know if the piston is full length, or at least longer than the "ring holder" "hockey puck" they put in the RMZ's, KXF's and the CRF's ? I hope the HRC trials guys didn't follow suit. That idea has turned out to be less than dependable. Yea, it revs like crazy and hauls ass, but it don't run forever like the XR's, KLX's and DRZ's. The industry has been veeeery quiet about the sad fact that you don't get a half a season out of those thumpers without replacing the piston and rings, and the stretched titanium valves. $$$$$ And if you procrastinate long enough, about the time the sixth payment is due, the piston turns sideways and the whole thing grenades. The local mc shop is full of 'em. A 7k thumper needs to run forever, not just win races in stadiums. JMO

Ringo, Just make sure you have enough cash for the HRC thumper, after your very safe and sound "investment" in the Aprillia, or you might find yourself with an older and fatter trials bike than Sendero. Oh yea... you already ride an older and fatter trials bike than Sendero. (there's your set-up) While you are rippin' the curves of Big Bear, dodgin' in and around over-cammed motorhome racers, I'll be down in Lucern, thumpin' around on slabbage, with a "silencer" full of Millies (good brew) and a bag of ice. Stop by... I hope the industry types are workin' on the replacement silencer/sparky for my new bike. I can't be seen with that... that... that... whatever that thing is. And no, my Beta's are NOT for sale! Don't call Mike!

Since we're on the subject... I saw my next trials bike in Cycle Snooze today. Oh, it's love... She's got some kind of aluminum saddle bag hangin' off her right side, and a retro-lookin' early nineties Gas Gas copy tank cover, but other than that, she's the one for me. I just wonder how fat she is. They politely never mentioned her weight. But I will love her for who she is... the fat, the saddle bag, the lump on her head, and all. Oh, and she will stroke me half as much as the Beta.

You got balls that clank, Ringmaster. Somebody needs to show 'em how difficult that stuff is. You did a fine job. The Ringmaster loves 'em portly, don't he?

Is there such a thing as a Bullfrog graphic? ...and if so, where do I get one?

Scweeeeeeet!!! The perfect use for a good Hodaka. Alot better than my 1969 Ace 90 yard ornament, which attracts the occasinal HDB. (Hodaka Drive By) They stop in because of the Hodaka parked in the front yard, "rusting in peace". I could write books about the stuff I've heard because of that bike. An "Oregonian" HDB stopped by a couple weeks ago and told me all about some guy that had to prove something by riding his Wombat from some odd parts back east, all the way to Hodaka Days. Supposedly, he strapped a spare motor to his back and actually did it. He tried to begg off the ride a few times, by calling his wife to come get him. She told him "No. Keep going. Yak, yak, yak...." Seems I saw something like this in a movie once. Think ya might know if this is true, or better yet, who the guy is? Anybody that finds himself crossing the Great Divide in a perdicament like that... has my respect.

Bullfrog, Give us the story on the Hodaka in your avatar. There are a few Hodaka enthusiasts here.

Good points, Ringworm. Lame Excuse: I had to stay away for a while cuz everyone I ride with wants to move me up. Even the guys who are multiple classes ABOVE me, want to move me up. Even the one-eyed SPECTATOR wants to move me up! Except the Utah Gang... They all moved themselves up, just to get away from me. Geez... Just cuz I whip the occasional Miraculous Reactive Defense Floatie (aka "The MaRDiF") I frequently yank Stoppies at the end gates (aka "Outies") and I can hop my way out of a section with the bike not running (aka "The Stallsberry Hop") they all think I'm ready for Super Sr. Novice B. No way! I learned from the best, right Bagg? Oh, excuse me... Right Petersdrag-queen? I keep tellin' 'em, it's not that I'm good, I just hate doin' alot of math at the end of the day. ...and quit calling me "Sendo" or I'll tell 'em how you REALLY got hurt, and who did it.