Posts
3829
Joined
1/12/2009
Location
Vancouver, WA
US
Edited Date/Time
6/16/2013 6:37pm
I wrote this after the Dick Jagow Memorial Grand Prix in September 2009. Enjoy!
The Best Day of My Life (So Far)
My alarm went off at 6:00am with a quiet beep. I’d gone to bed relatively early the night before, so I was well rested. It was the morning of Sunday, September 20th, 2009. My beautiful wife Jessica lay sleeping beside me peacefully. She was 8 ½ months pregnant with our son, Robert Andrew, so sleep had not come as easily to her lately.
It was still dark outside and the house was still and quiet as I made my mug of coffee and a breakfast sandwich. The pellet stove gave off a warm glow and the kept the house nice and cozy. I’d prepared my motorcycle the night before and so was not in a rush. The fire-engine red 2006 Honda CRF450R was loaded in my box van ready to go. I’d changed the oil, put in a clean and oiled air filter, and had everything adjusted perfectly. My gear was washed and ready.
I was going to Washougal National MX Park, to ride in the Dick Jagow Memorial Grand Prix. It’s an annual race held every year by the Mt. Scott Motorcycle Club at Washougal. While I ride many races during the year, the DJGP is unique because it is over an hour long-not 15 to 20 minutes like most of my regular races. I really like the longer races because they are great tests of endurance and riding technique and the starts are not nearly as important as in the shorter races.
There was a line of 6 to 8 vehicles at the gate when I got to the MX park, and quite a few people were already there-a good sign. It had rained a few days before so the ground was neither dusty nor muddy-a perfect day. I parked the box van on one of the tiers where my friend Jeff Peden had left his trailer the day before when we had scouted out the layout of the track. It overlooked the starting area and a good part of the track and was south facing so we would have good sun exposure all day. Jeff was already there getting ready. Gary Petty showed up not long after me, then Dave Priest and Bob Thornbreau. Bob had brought his friend Alexe with him who would be racing in his first race ever!
At signup, they gave each rider bar-graph stickers for our helmets which the scorers would scan with laser scanners to track our laps and positions. In the past, they had used a punch card system for scoring so this new system was a great improvement and a nice surprise. All the stickers were numbered and mine was #377-Christophe Pourcel’s number. I thought that was pretty cool!
The mood in the group was good and relaxed. Everyone was looking forward to a fun, long race in perfect conditions. The announcer informed everyone on 88.1 fm that the start of the first race-our race-would be delayed by an hour until 9:30am. It wasn’t hard to see why! The line coming into the MX park wound all the way down the hill and out of site…there were a lot of riders who wanted to enjoy the combination of a long race and perfect conditions also!
At about 9:15am we all moved down to the starting area. Because the race consisted of about 10 different classes in each moto there were 10 lines of riders staggered about 20 feet behind one another. My class, which included Jeff, Dave, and Gary would be the 3rd wave of riders to start. We stood behind our bikes, holding on to the rear fender with the engine dead. The starter waved the flag and the first wave was off and running. My heart rate was rising as our start got closer. About 1 minute went by and the flag waved for the 2nd wave. We were next. My heart pounding with adrenaline and anticipation of the long battle to come, the starting official waved the flag.
I quickly jumped on my bike and kicked it to life. It started on the 2nd or 3rd kick so I had 10 to 12 other riders ahead of me has we rounded the first turn. I caught a glimpse of Jeff as we wound our way through the first woods section after the start. He had gotten a better start than me and was 5 or 6 riders ahead. I was glad because I could use him as a rabbit to chase during the hour and a half race. The course moved out into the open fields east of the motocross track and opened up. I love the fields part of the GP course at Washougal because the get rough and follow then natural terrain—old school style. From there, the course moved into the woods to the north of the track, and then to the west. The off-road riders in the race ride the woods a lot more than the motocross guys, and this was the only section any riders ever passed me—and there were only 2 of them the whole race. The funny part was as soon as we exited the woods back out into the fields and then onto the track itself, they slowed way down when they hit the comparatively wide-open space of the track.
Once back onto the track itself, it felt like being on a freeway after the woods and I let ‘er rip. As I was flying through the rhythm section in the middle of the track I saw Jeff riding backwards on the left side. He had gone down and pulled back onto the track behind both me and Dave Priest. I lost track of who was in my class about then because we began to get into traffic. I started to concentrate hard on catching whoever the rider was in front of me, whatever class they were in. I call it “who’s next” game and use it to keep charging forward.
And that was the game for the next seventy five minutes or so. I kept a good, hard pace and rode as smoothly as I could. During the entire race, I only had one close call and it involved a rider who crashed into my rear wheel in a nasty rutted uphill section of the woods. Luckily, my bike kept running (love that Rekluse!) and I lost very little time. With about 20 minutes to go my goggles turned into a fish bowl when the foam around them became saturated with sweat and dripped down on the inside of the lens. I was sorely tempted to take them off but it would have been even worse without them and I ended up leaving them on. Somehow they dried up again after about a lap and my worldview changed back from fishbowl to normal.
As I came through the scoring area, I asked the scoring official, “How much more time?” He replied, “About 15 minutes!” so I figured I was probably on my last lap. After an hour and 15 minutes of hard riding, my body was definitely starting to feel it. I concentrated on finishing that last lap as strongly as I could with no crashes and got the checkered flag the next time around. One close call, no stalls, and no one passed me and stayed ahead of me. I had probably passed 100 riders during the race and was excited to see where I had finished.
Back at the box van, I got off the bike sore and tired but happy. Our group had ridden well and everyone was bench racing and enjoying themselves. Bob’s friend Alexe was actually crying from the emotion of his first race. No one had gotten hurt or broken any bikes. I sat in my chair and took in the scene while recovering in the sun and drinking a Gatorade G2. The 11:00am sun felt good as Dave, Jeff, and I brought each other up to speed on what had happened to each of us during the race. After about half an hour of after-action conversation, we headed up to the tower to get our results. The 4 motocrossers in our class had done well. I finished 3rd, Dave finished 5th, Jeff was 7th, and Gary was 9th out of 26 riders. The two guys who had beaten me only beat me by 30 and 10 seconds, according to the scoring sheet timing, and I didn’t recognize either name.
We picked up our trophies and headed back to the rigs to pack up and head out. After saying goodbye to everyone and loading up my bike and gear, I drove back home in the afternoon sun relaxed and happy, having enjoyed the day’s race as much as any I had ever ridden.
Part 2
When I got home I parked the box van and walked up my steep driveway with my trophy. I was greeted in the kitchen by my beautiful wife, her smile warming me with her glow. I showed her my trophy while she made me lunch and we talked about the day. The fall afternoon sun streamed through the kitchen windows, bathing everything in gold. After lunch, I relaxed and nodded off with the sounds of family drifting through the house.
My brother Andy called to say that he and Jennifer would be stopping by with my niece McKennah and my nephews Hayden and Hudson. They lived in Spokane so we didn’t see them as often as we used to when they lived in Vancouver. It would be fun to see everyone and show them the changes we had made to the house. Andy brought the cool boat cradle he had made for McKennah before she was born. Not long after Andy and Jennifer arrived, Jessica started having contractions.
She had given birth to Jonathan, her youngest, 2 weeks early, so we weren’t that surprised when her contractions started. Robert Andrew wasn’t due until October 5th, but it looked like he might show up a little early! Jessica and I showed Andy and Jen our new master bedroom and bathroom and some other changes we had made to the house. They had planned on leaving that night for Spokane, but Jessica’s contractions were getting closer together so they changed their plans to spend the night in order to be close when Robert Andrew was born. His middle name was taken from my brother Andy, so it would be pretty special to be in town when he was born. I was thrilled that they would be in town for this and things couldn’t have worked out any better if we had planned them.
When Jessica’s contractions got to 3 minutes apart, we decided it was time to go! She had already packed for the trip and the hospital stay, but I hadn’t. For a moment, I felt the twinge of anxiety probably every father-to-be feels when he’s told, “Honey, it’s time go to!” But I knew she had done this before and the feeling turned into an excited anticipation of what was to come. I gathered some overnight stuff quickly and Andy and Jen got the boys ready to go to my mom’s house for the night. As I backed the car out of the garage and Jessica walking down the stairs, I felt like I was in a movie I had seen many times before. The drive to the hospital was short since we live fairly close and I pulled to the curb and helped Jessica out. I could see the pain on her face with each contraction.
We checked in at the nursing station at about 7:00pm and a nurse took us to the family birth triage center, where we would wait until the labor and delivery staff was sure it wasn’t a “false alarm.” It was hard for me to watch Jessica’s pain when she would have a contraction, but I knew she had done this before and that it wouldn’t last forever. I also knew that when it was over, we would have a beautiful baby boy! We stayed in the triage center until about 10:00pm, during which time the contractions got stronger, according to both her pain level and the machine that measured the strength of the contractions. We went for a walk around the family birth center during this time, and she would have to stop and lean against me when the pain became too intense. We stopped and talked to our family in the waiting area, which now also included my mom. When we returned to triage, the nurse gave Jessica a final measurement and decided to admit us and get Jessica to the room—our home for about the next 36 hours.
Once in the room, our nurse ran a hot bath for Jessica, which helped her relax a bit. Since it was after 10:00pm, and we weren’t sure when Robert would be born, my mom took everyone back to her house for dinner and to wait. I was watching the clock because once we got past midnight, it would be September 21st-my dad’s birthday! How special it would be for my son to be born on my dad’s birthday and for him to share that day with his grandson!
It felt a little strange being in the birthing room but also familiar. I had been in rooms in the same family birth center 5 times before when my nieces and nephews were born, but this time I was the expectant daddy. Jessica had decided to go without pain medication, (as she always had—what a trooper!), so I never left her side and held her hand, giving her encouragement when the pain got strong. Our doctor came into the room and said hello. He was in his 60s with an Australian accent and had an extremely calm and confident bedside manner. Something about him just said, “I’ve done this 10,000 times before.” I relaxed as soon as I saw him, although I’m not sure anything would have helped Jessica relax much!
One of the nurses turned to the doctor and asked him if he wanted them to do anything. He said with a smile, “No let’s just see what happens!” After about 45 minutes of strong contractions and being on the verge of ready to deliver, Jessica started getting a little tired and the doctor decided to give her a little help and see if we could bring our little boy into the world. He gave Jessica some assistance during a strong contraction and Robert Andrew was on his way. I could see his little head, and with one more big push, out he came at 1:57am …a little faster than the doctor and nurses were ready for I think!
I always thought I would be an emotional wreck when my son was born, and I always pictured it that way in mind. Breaking down into a happy crying puddle from the emotion of the moment. But it didn’t happen that way. I was way too busy with being concerned about Jessica and our new little miracle to have time to cry. The doctor asked me if I wanted to cut the cord, which I did. I also was somewhat overwhelmed by the whole experience. Jessica pushing and crying out, and then seeing that little guy for the first time and hearing him cry was a lot to take in. My heart just about overflowed when they placed Robert in Jessica’s arms. She looked at him and said, “hello there” while he looked back up at her. Amazing. He had been born on September 21st—my dad’s birthday.
The nurse did her evaluations and tests on Robert while he was in his little medical crib/baby container device, and then wrapped him up and gave him to Jessica. By then, the whole medical staff had departed, and the nurse dimmed the lights and left the three of us alone there in the room. It was surprising how quickly things had changed from painful, noisy, bright, and crowded to peaceful, quiet, and private. Robert took naturally to breast feeding like a pro, which was also amazing to see and put me at ease even more. Andy, my brother, showed up not long after I called him since my mom lived so close to the hospital. He was the first family member to see Robert after he was born. He also brought a spaghetti dinner the family had prepared earlier in the evening. He stayed for a while talking with us and holding Robert while I ate. When he left, it was approaching 3am and I had been up since 6am the day before. With the 1 ½ hour race I’d ridden, and everything else that had happened during the day, it was very easy to lie down and fall asleep on the “daddy bed” there in the room. Tomorrow would bring new meetings and smiles and love, but falling asleep on the daddy bed, I peacefully ended the best day of my life.
The Best Day of My Life (So Far)
My alarm went off at 6:00am with a quiet beep. I’d gone to bed relatively early the night before, so I was well rested. It was the morning of Sunday, September 20th, 2009. My beautiful wife Jessica lay sleeping beside me peacefully. She was 8 ½ months pregnant with our son, Robert Andrew, so sleep had not come as easily to her lately.
It was still dark outside and the house was still and quiet as I made my mug of coffee and a breakfast sandwich. The pellet stove gave off a warm glow and the kept the house nice and cozy. I’d prepared my motorcycle the night before and so was not in a rush. The fire-engine red 2006 Honda CRF450R was loaded in my box van ready to go. I’d changed the oil, put in a clean and oiled air filter, and had everything adjusted perfectly. My gear was washed and ready.
I was going to Washougal National MX Park, to ride in the Dick Jagow Memorial Grand Prix. It’s an annual race held every year by the Mt. Scott Motorcycle Club at Washougal. While I ride many races during the year, the DJGP is unique because it is over an hour long-not 15 to 20 minutes like most of my regular races. I really like the longer races because they are great tests of endurance and riding technique and the starts are not nearly as important as in the shorter races.
There was a line of 6 to 8 vehicles at the gate when I got to the MX park, and quite a few people were already there-a good sign. It had rained a few days before so the ground was neither dusty nor muddy-a perfect day. I parked the box van on one of the tiers where my friend Jeff Peden had left his trailer the day before when we had scouted out the layout of the track. It overlooked the starting area and a good part of the track and was south facing so we would have good sun exposure all day. Jeff was already there getting ready. Gary Petty showed up not long after me, then Dave Priest and Bob Thornbreau. Bob had brought his friend Alexe with him who would be racing in his first race ever!
At signup, they gave each rider bar-graph stickers for our helmets which the scorers would scan with laser scanners to track our laps and positions. In the past, they had used a punch card system for scoring so this new system was a great improvement and a nice surprise. All the stickers were numbered and mine was #377-Christophe Pourcel’s number. I thought that was pretty cool!
The mood in the group was good and relaxed. Everyone was looking forward to a fun, long race in perfect conditions. The announcer informed everyone on 88.1 fm that the start of the first race-our race-would be delayed by an hour until 9:30am. It wasn’t hard to see why! The line coming into the MX park wound all the way down the hill and out of site…there were a lot of riders who wanted to enjoy the combination of a long race and perfect conditions also!
At about 9:15am we all moved down to the starting area. Because the race consisted of about 10 different classes in each moto there were 10 lines of riders staggered about 20 feet behind one another. My class, which included Jeff, Dave, and Gary would be the 3rd wave of riders to start. We stood behind our bikes, holding on to the rear fender with the engine dead. The starter waved the flag and the first wave was off and running. My heart rate was rising as our start got closer. About 1 minute went by and the flag waved for the 2nd wave. We were next. My heart pounding with adrenaline and anticipation of the long battle to come, the starting official waved the flag.
I quickly jumped on my bike and kicked it to life. It started on the 2nd or 3rd kick so I had 10 to 12 other riders ahead of me has we rounded the first turn. I caught a glimpse of Jeff as we wound our way through the first woods section after the start. He had gotten a better start than me and was 5 or 6 riders ahead. I was glad because I could use him as a rabbit to chase during the hour and a half race. The course moved out into the open fields east of the motocross track and opened up. I love the fields part of the GP course at Washougal because the get rough and follow then natural terrain—old school style. From there, the course moved into the woods to the north of the track, and then to the west. The off-road riders in the race ride the woods a lot more than the motocross guys, and this was the only section any riders ever passed me—and there were only 2 of them the whole race. The funny part was as soon as we exited the woods back out into the fields and then onto the track itself, they slowed way down when they hit the comparatively wide-open space of the track.
Once back onto the track itself, it felt like being on a freeway after the woods and I let ‘er rip. As I was flying through the rhythm section in the middle of the track I saw Jeff riding backwards on the left side. He had gone down and pulled back onto the track behind both me and Dave Priest. I lost track of who was in my class about then because we began to get into traffic. I started to concentrate hard on catching whoever the rider was in front of me, whatever class they were in. I call it “who’s next” game and use it to keep charging forward.
And that was the game for the next seventy five minutes or so. I kept a good, hard pace and rode as smoothly as I could. During the entire race, I only had one close call and it involved a rider who crashed into my rear wheel in a nasty rutted uphill section of the woods. Luckily, my bike kept running (love that Rekluse!) and I lost very little time. With about 20 minutes to go my goggles turned into a fish bowl when the foam around them became saturated with sweat and dripped down on the inside of the lens. I was sorely tempted to take them off but it would have been even worse without them and I ended up leaving them on. Somehow they dried up again after about a lap and my worldview changed back from fishbowl to normal.
As I came through the scoring area, I asked the scoring official, “How much more time?” He replied, “About 15 minutes!” so I figured I was probably on my last lap. After an hour and 15 minutes of hard riding, my body was definitely starting to feel it. I concentrated on finishing that last lap as strongly as I could with no crashes and got the checkered flag the next time around. One close call, no stalls, and no one passed me and stayed ahead of me. I had probably passed 100 riders during the race and was excited to see where I had finished.
Back at the box van, I got off the bike sore and tired but happy. Our group had ridden well and everyone was bench racing and enjoying themselves. Bob’s friend Alexe was actually crying from the emotion of his first race. No one had gotten hurt or broken any bikes. I sat in my chair and took in the scene while recovering in the sun and drinking a Gatorade G2. The 11:00am sun felt good as Dave, Jeff, and I brought each other up to speed on what had happened to each of us during the race. After about half an hour of after-action conversation, we headed up to the tower to get our results. The 4 motocrossers in our class had done well. I finished 3rd, Dave finished 5th, Jeff was 7th, and Gary was 9th out of 26 riders. The two guys who had beaten me only beat me by 30 and 10 seconds, according to the scoring sheet timing, and I didn’t recognize either name.
We picked up our trophies and headed back to the rigs to pack up and head out. After saying goodbye to everyone and loading up my bike and gear, I drove back home in the afternoon sun relaxed and happy, having enjoyed the day’s race as much as any I had ever ridden.
Part 2
When I got home I parked the box van and walked up my steep driveway with my trophy. I was greeted in the kitchen by my beautiful wife, her smile warming me with her glow. I showed her my trophy while she made me lunch and we talked about the day. The fall afternoon sun streamed through the kitchen windows, bathing everything in gold. After lunch, I relaxed and nodded off with the sounds of family drifting through the house.
My brother Andy called to say that he and Jennifer would be stopping by with my niece McKennah and my nephews Hayden and Hudson. They lived in Spokane so we didn’t see them as often as we used to when they lived in Vancouver. It would be fun to see everyone and show them the changes we had made to the house. Andy brought the cool boat cradle he had made for McKennah before she was born. Not long after Andy and Jennifer arrived, Jessica started having contractions.
She had given birth to Jonathan, her youngest, 2 weeks early, so we weren’t that surprised when her contractions started. Robert Andrew wasn’t due until October 5th, but it looked like he might show up a little early! Jessica and I showed Andy and Jen our new master bedroom and bathroom and some other changes we had made to the house. They had planned on leaving that night for Spokane, but Jessica’s contractions were getting closer together so they changed their plans to spend the night in order to be close when Robert Andrew was born. His middle name was taken from my brother Andy, so it would be pretty special to be in town when he was born. I was thrilled that they would be in town for this and things couldn’t have worked out any better if we had planned them.
When Jessica’s contractions got to 3 minutes apart, we decided it was time to go! She had already packed for the trip and the hospital stay, but I hadn’t. For a moment, I felt the twinge of anxiety probably every father-to-be feels when he’s told, “Honey, it’s time go to!” But I knew she had done this before and the feeling turned into an excited anticipation of what was to come. I gathered some overnight stuff quickly and Andy and Jen got the boys ready to go to my mom’s house for the night. As I backed the car out of the garage and Jessica walking down the stairs, I felt like I was in a movie I had seen many times before. The drive to the hospital was short since we live fairly close and I pulled to the curb and helped Jessica out. I could see the pain on her face with each contraction.
We checked in at the nursing station at about 7:00pm and a nurse took us to the family birth triage center, where we would wait until the labor and delivery staff was sure it wasn’t a “false alarm.” It was hard for me to watch Jessica’s pain when she would have a contraction, but I knew she had done this before and that it wouldn’t last forever. I also knew that when it was over, we would have a beautiful baby boy! We stayed in the triage center until about 10:00pm, during which time the contractions got stronger, according to both her pain level and the machine that measured the strength of the contractions. We went for a walk around the family birth center during this time, and she would have to stop and lean against me when the pain became too intense. We stopped and talked to our family in the waiting area, which now also included my mom. When we returned to triage, the nurse gave Jessica a final measurement and decided to admit us and get Jessica to the room—our home for about the next 36 hours.
Once in the room, our nurse ran a hot bath for Jessica, which helped her relax a bit. Since it was after 10:00pm, and we weren’t sure when Robert would be born, my mom took everyone back to her house for dinner and to wait. I was watching the clock because once we got past midnight, it would be September 21st-my dad’s birthday! How special it would be for my son to be born on my dad’s birthday and for him to share that day with his grandson!
It felt a little strange being in the birthing room but also familiar. I had been in rooms in the same family birth center 5 times before when my nieces and nephews were born, but this time I was the expectant daddy. Jessica had decided to go without pain medication, (as she always had—what a trooper!), so I never left her side and held her hand, giving her encouragement when the pain got strong. Our doctor came into the room and said hello. He was in his 60s with an Australian accent and had an extremely calm and confident bedside manner. Something about him just said, “I’ve done this 10,000 times before.” I relaxed as soon as I saw him, although I’m not sure anything would have helped Jessica relax much!
One of the nurses turned to the doctor and asked him if he wanted them to do anything. He said with a smile, “No let’s just see what happens!” After about 45 minutes of strong contractions and being on the verge of ready to deliver, Jessica started getting a little tired and the doctor decided to give her a little help and see if we could bring our little boy into the world. He gave Jessica some assistance during a strong contraction and Robert Andrew was on his way. I could see his little head, and with one more big push, out he came at 1:57am …a little faster than the doctor and nurses were ready for I think!
I always thought I would be an emotional wreck when my son was born, and I always pictured it that way in mind. Breaking down into a happy crying puddle from the emotion of the moment. But it didn’t happen that way. I was way too busy with being concerned about Jessica and our new little miracle to have time to cry. The doctor asked me if I wanted to cut the cord, which I did. I also was somewhat overwhelmed by the whole experience. Jessica pushing and crying out, and then seeing that little guy for the first time and hearing him cry was a lot to take in. My heart just about overflowed when they placed Robert in Jessica’s arms. She looked at him and said, “hello there” while he looked back up at her. Amazing. He had been born on September 21st—my dad’s birthday.
The nurse did her evaluations and tests on Robert while he was in his little medical crib/baby container device, and then wrapped him up and gave him to Jessica. By then, the whole medical staff had departed, and the nurse dimmed the lights and left the three of us alone there in the room. It was surprising how quickly things had changed from painful, noisy, bright, and crowded to peaceful, quiet, and private. Robert took naturally to breast feeding like a pro, which was also amazing to see and put me at ease even more. Andy, my brother, showed up not long after I called him since my mom lived so close to the hospital. He was the first family member to see Robert after he was born. He also brought a spaghetti dinner the family had prepared earlier in the evening. He stayed for a while talking with us and holding Robert while I ate. When he left, it was approaching 3am and I had been up since 6am the day before. With the 1 ½ hour race I’d ridden, and everything else that had happened during the day, it was very easy to lie down and fall asleep on the “daddy bed” there in the room. Tomorrow would bring new meetings and smiles and love, but falling asleep on the daddy bed, I peacefully ended the best day of my life.
I'm about to be a 1st time Dad to a boy & a girl in a couple months and I read it pretty closely...
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