Bent Words

Bent Words

August 22, 2004

Friday passed by as hectic as Fridays always do at Lake Country and I was filled with relief when the owner, Chuck, finally departed at quarter to six that night. I walked briskly down to the warehouse to spend the remainder of the evening with Shane and discuss Saturday's plans. With everything set, I drove home at 7:15 p.m. and fell fast asleep before 10:00 p.m.. I woke to the harsh sounds of my radio alarm blaring at a very dark 5:00 a.m. Saturday morning. It was not long before the anticipation of the day struck inside me, waking me fully and I began quickly preparing for what was to come. In all of my haste, I managed to spill the remaining contents of last night's beer onto my desk, my computer chair and my floor. Filled with frustration and the ever pressing passing of time, I cleaned the mess and blotted Pumpkin's tail the best I could (as she was an unfortunate victim to the sticky, dark ale as well). Without delay, I hopped in the shower and somehow progressed quite nicely through the rest of my tasks before forgetting both of my cameras inside the door of my apartment while I stood next to my car in the parking lot. Cursing the stairs, as I leaped them two by two, I found other items of interest and possible necessity that I feverishly grabbed before exiting my apartment for the final time. All was set and I arrived at Shane's door at 6:55 a.m. - five minutes early to our planned departure. Upon entering his door, I heard him still in the shower and had leisure enough to play a few games of Spider Solitaire.

7:30 a.m. found us on the road and stopped again for breakfast (for me, since he will not eat before a race) and once more to clean the grime from the van's windshield. In the passenger seat, I turned around to see his Husqvarna 360 strapped in place and smiled with great enthusiasm at the idea of this neglected machine being put to great use. In perhaps a little over an hour, we found our way to a narrow and winding gravel road which led to an open, hilly clearing surrounded picturesquely by forest in the town of Kewaskum. We noted three or four campers set out on one of the hills and after driving past each, we recognized no one. Not long after our arrival, we were greeted with the familiar face of Joey Jankcoski and shortly after, John Altmann (Juan de las vacciones de Mexico, Si?) only to be followed by the rest. Dave Kilkenny and the Husqvarna 570 Shane and I had sold him along with his brother Kevin, Ronny Zastrow and his blaring fluorescent green and yellow motocross attire, Andy Mauk and his nervous grin... It was not unlike a cheerful reunion of the same people who started the SuperBikers2 Supermoto events at Elkhart Lake four years ago! What grandeur in familiarity!

The party grew into nearly 25, all lined up with vans and trailers next to Shane's and I began to make my usual rounds with pictures. The chattering voices grew louder, the enthusiasm echoed in laughter, the children sailed by upon golf carts and ATV's and soon the sound of crisp, spattering dirt bike engines overtook them all. Practice was underway - over hills and jumps and round deceiving corners filled with dirt and wood chips. The track was much longer than any of us first had perceived and by two laps, Shane off of the track and breathing hard! He looked at me and nearly folded upon his bike, exclaiming that his arms were sore already and that he knew not how he would go on! I worried only a little as he rode away to inflict more pain upon his already tensed up body and listened to each rider, one by one, as they stopped to mirror Shane's words to me. Everyone claimed the right to wince at the sharp angled corners and it seemed no one was prepared for the torture of this harsh terrain! I must admit, it did my heart good to know that they all suffered equally, instead of passing me by with ease and confidence.

Since I had nothing better to do than take pictures, Shane placed me in the backfield atop a blind hill so as to warn oncoming riders if someone had gone down. Amongst tall field grass and wheat, I thought in horror of the numbers of tics that might have been digging their way deeper into my skin, filling their flat bodies with my blood and infecting me with some rare disease. Shane assured me of my safety from these nasty creatures before riding back to the start/finish line, but I was not so confident... Before I had become perfectly situated, I heard the single roar of 25 motors leaping off of the line that I, from my tick infested hill, could not see. I awaited the site of #204 (yes, that's Shane) in great anticipation and counted him eleventh in the pack. Not wanting to stray from my important duties as corner worker, I attempted to keep my eyes on all of the riders instead of merely burning a hole into the side of Shane's bike. Dust flew, rocks skirted past me and I grinned and snapped shots of all of the boys hitting the jump only three feet from my camera! I lost track of Shane's position and only knew that he must have finished the five lap race. Before I could gather my thoughts, there he was in the middle of the field, ready to pick me up. He finished 8th overall and there was another race coming up.

He drove me back to my tick infested hill and I wished him good luck as he rode back toward the start/finish line once again. This time, I counted him eighth in the running and found it even more difficult to keep my eyes on the task at hand. I watched with eagerness as he passed someone on a black and red Honda and made his way toward Dave Kilkenny. Dave must have screwed up somewhere because Shane was now sixth! He roared around each corner and nearly roosted me with dirt upon passing as he kept his eyes on Ron Zastrow and John Altmann - just yards ahead of his front tire. Lap number three found Zastrow out of control and holding onto his handle bars for dear life with Shane just a few feet behind! I put my hands to my face and could barely watch as, somehow, Shane managed to escape the great disorder that Zastrow created in front of him. Now he was fifth and could find no greater pleasure than chasing down that #6 of John Altmann (for HE was the man to beat!). It was the last lap and all I could see was Shane entering the backfield, all alone and with John Altmann stalled in the grass far behind after apparently running out of gas! Shane finished an astonishing FOURTH place after not having been competitively in the dirt for nearly four years! I jumped and hugged him and patted his back as we rode out of the dirt and back to his van. There was much rejoicing after a FUN filled afternoon in the dirt and dust.

Once the excitement had diminished ever so slightly and after we were all packed up, we headed back toward Milwaukee to celebrate in the Second Annual street celebration of Rockerbox. Maybe fifteen minutes passed by when we were accosted by several young, screaming girls in bikinis jumping and pleading for us to stop the van so we could be their first customer in a Charity Bikini 'Biker' Wash. Well, we DID have a bike in the back of the van! We decided to stop with the thought of providing a helping hand toward charity, relieve our bladders and watch the 13 year old, cellulite ridden bikini biker 'babes' wash the van. What a sight! I ordered a Captain and Coke from the bar, but they were out of Captain (OUT of Captain!!??) and thus I settled for the white rum instead. We laughed and chatted and I took some pictures of the apparently drunk and short attentioned girls who only succeeded in leaving a masking amount of soap scum on Shane's earlier clean windshield. It was a blast, though and we left in high spirits.

We made our way to downtown Milwaukee, parking the van a block away from the commotion we sought. It was amazing! Bikes of all kinds lined the middle of the street for two or three blocks, live bands played throughout the day, bars with weary bartenders served the thousands of motorcycle enthusiasts passing through, corn on the cob was served sizzling and fresh, unique awards were being allocated to the winner's of each designated class and all of our friends strolled the streets in twos and threes. The owner and his wife of SuperBikers2 chatted with us at a popular bar which held a GIANT mouse trap on one of its walls (I must have one of these), Shane bought me a T-shirt and coffee mug to remember the day and before 6:00 p.m. we were ready to head back. Shane had his mom's Birthday to attend to and I was feeling the affects of weariness and alcohol override my excitement. A short stop at his place and on was on my way home and in bed before 8:00 p.m.! What a huge day!

Written at 10:19 p.m.