ORA Club Weekend 2000

Saterday morning I went up early and put my bike on the pickup. I never did it before but my cunning plan was fine: with running engine and in first gear up the self made board. The bike was embarked in no time. At eight I was on the motorway south in the direction of Veldhoven were the bivouac was.
Thsi was lots better than going to an event on two wheels. Nice heated car, favourite CD and a tin of Red Bull for the necessary cafeine. At 9h20 I entered the bivouac and several members already unloaded their bikes. After making acquaintance with everybody we got the roadbook for the saturday ride. One hunderd and seventy muddy, technical and speedy kilometres and four specials that count for the weekend classification. After taping the nearly 40 pieces of roadbook the event was to begin.

Outside scrutineering waits and paperwork, driverslicense, brakelights and horn are checked. All parts me and my LC4 take full poins - a miracle happened to my horn that normally only gives some undescribable and timid noise. The bike must have waited for this moment....
Inside our quarters the first special is to be done. Not much riding but still very much enduro: one minute to make pairs of photograps clipped from offroad magazines; a crank case and some other part of the same bike or a tail light and part of the frame that eventually is attached to it.

Outside engines are started and with a group of four we take off. After the first 500 metres of tarmac the roadbook guides us to a curved single track with very deep mudholes that in no way can be missed. Within the first kilometre everything is packed with mud - just the way I like it to be! Speedy tracks with 90 degree bents are alternated with curved muddy tracks that sometimes can be avoided but more often not...

The unanticipated dismounting comes for the first time as I try to ride a slope. The grass and mud are not the most ideal combination for the worn T63 tyres and too much throttle and doubts reaching the top. My second attempt had the very same ingredients and therefore the very same end. Walking next to my self propelling bike gives new possibilities and I dangle through the 20 cm deep tracks. After a few clicks I get back my concentration and each of us takes front position for a while. My 'tripmaster' seems to have difficulties with my riding speed and only counts half of the distances ridden. The interval distances on the roadbook are therefore hard to use. The situation drawings are the only thing I can rely on. When Pim and I want to take a different trail the two others ride on fast. We decide to wait for them and continue to follow the roadbook. Because the intervals in the roadbook are in many cases just 200 metres it is quite easy to ride without a tripmaster. After a very bumpy forest track we arrive at the second special - MX track with chrono. Making a second attemt I manage to be 10 seconds faster than before. I guess that doesn't make me last in the row.

The roadbook still had some 100 kilometres left so we mount and leave for the fields and forests of Brabant. A pale autumn sun enlights my attempts to conquer mud and sand. Some fast tracks really ride marvellous but when I enter a deep muddy track suddenly my handlebars touch the ground. Luckily this section is only a hundred metres long - riding tracks of 30 cm wide and with walls of more than 20 cm is not yet my piece of cake... At the third special our group of four seems to ride at the head of the couse. Others brake the boredom of the cleaners at the Mac Donalds and shook oof their muddy boots inside.
The third special was called 'Four points of the compass'. Between four poles set in a 3 x 3 metre square we should ride our bike in the four possible directions witch a chrono ticking. The fast and drifting turns of two members are most spectacular to watch. Unfortunately one of them leaving the clover takes an unanticipated flight and his bike nearly ends in a nearby ditch. On my second attempt I make wider turns that prevent stops and manoeuvering. The unmistakable chrono nevertheless puts me in the 'second group' of participants. When I check my bike I notice a huge nail coming out of one of the knobs on the rear tyre but the tube is still fully inflated. I let it be.

Just fourty kilometres to go the tour becomes more easy to ride with wide tracks and long stretches of on-road riding. After riding on the narow bank of a brook we meet the rest of the party. The roadbook misses one station which can not be found. Thanks to GSM technology we find out that somewere alongside the brook we had to turn right but nobody can find out exactly where... One of the members gets his map and with all 15 offroaders we return to our bivouac riding offroad as well as on tarmac. I put some lube on the chain first and my rear tyre is still how it was ment to be.

Inside a large and fully loaded fridge waits for us to take out the beer and a little less thirsty I am ready to do the final test - putting as many bolts and nuts together in one minute. As I notice someone put 19 sets together my 13 seems to be somewhat meager. Taking a second chance I manage to make 19 sets as well. Cheers!

Before and after dinner stories and photos are exchanged and we watch a video of the Erzberg Hare Scramble. Someone informs me on the use of the two stupid holes underneath the container on my pickup truck. The container can be lifted out with the use of a fork lifter. Maybe I can find someone with such a machine so I can take the lifted container back home in the back of the truck ;-)
After dinner outcome of the weekend classification is made public. Numbers three and two are not much of a surprise to me, both of them rid like hell and they get a bronze and silver sparkplug-on-wood as a trophy. The number one of the weekend was a little bit a surprise to the organizing committee, a new clubmember... and then I hear my own name being mentioned! On the MX track and the Four points of the compass I ended somewhere at lower regions of the list. I surely must have gained points from the scrutineering, the pictures and the bolts and nuts game. The golden trophy, a huge cup and a litre of siliconespray dazzled I returned to my beer. This was the last i'd expected. I just feel sorry that winning was not because of my offroad skills. The next year I'll have to ride and train a lot more! Next week I start entering pits of a nearby building area... At eleven thirty everyone lies in their sleeping bags. Luckily nothing of the promised snoring can beheared.

Sunday morning everybody awakes at about eight and silent we eat our breakfast. When the negines are started outside life begins again. We're ready for a tour with a front rider showing the way.

The first part is the same as saturday but speed is much higher. After the first mudholes the cleaning effects of the morning shower is already gone. It's gringing somewhere in my mouth. Two MP's post at a fence and we are watched in a way that doesn't predict the best. The only thing they say is a barsh Good Morning. Obviously they weren't in the mood to write ten tickets for missing mirrors and indicators...
The track alongside the canal was well ploughed on yeserdays tour but speed isn't less - on the contrary! Suddenly our foreman rides up the slope on the left and the others follow. I still don't trust my skills and hesitate. Without gaining speed ride up hill in first gear and tell myself just to watch the exit on top. I gracefully land on my rear wheel near the road above. This gives me confidence. After a huge mudbath and a single track though the shrubs we enter a road building site. Going down half a metre is easy but stepping half a metre upwards I pick the wrong option. I can not see which of the two possibilities is best and unluckily choose the most angled one. Flying over the handlebars my bike manages to get on top and I am fropped in the saddle again. My heart pounds in my throat...

I'm somewhat scared and start riding too slowly for offroading. This causes truely wet feet and when I try to divert a deep pool the rear spins to the right and I find myself sitting on a small ridge. My beloved LC4 lies half a metre down the ridge. All these little mishaps do not worry the bike at all. Just the handguards need to be put in place again. For myself I am beginning to get really tyred. The T63 tyres are also too much worn for this game and above all not suitable for these muddy conditions. When we drink some coffee at the MX track I decide to call it a weekend and return home. This gives me some extra time to clean the KTM. At the bivouac I find out that the rear tyre is all flat now. The nail that I decided to let be must have entered the inner tube while riding on tarmac. In my backyard I pull it out and wonder why it took the 7 cm long nail so long to penetrate...

After some eggs and bread the bike has to be cleaned and lubricated. After machine comes man and I take a well earned shower for half an hour. Completely tyred but intensely happy I fall asleep on the couch - dreaming how to make my bike dirty again...