My Baja 500 Story

Hello all!

I thought I'd share with you my story from racing the SCORE Baja 500 this year. Its a long story, and it definitely has its ups and downs, but I think you guys might enjoy it.

I was contacted about a month before the race by Parks Offroad and invited to ride for them in the amateur ATV class. I scraped together the funds I would need and booked a ticket to San Diego with my father.

We stayed one night in sunny California, then left early in the morning for Ensenada. We crossed at Tijuana in the Parks Offroad chase truck, one ATV in the back with a KTM 250SX-f rammed in beside it, another ATV on the Hitch mounted homemade carrier and 6 Ogio gear bags piled on top. 6 hours later we reached the city and found the rental house that was to be our home for the next week. There we met our team communications manager who also owned the house.

We Pre ran my section of the course on Wednesday, a 100 mile stretch between Highways 1 and 3 on the Baja peninsula that crossed a treacherous mountain range and a few large ranches before coming out at the famous Mike's Sky Ranch, from there, it was a 12 mile ride out to the highway on a windy cliffside road. Mile 170 to 270 on the Baja Map for those who want to see.

Myself and another team member set off around 3:00pm, riding along with nothing but small arrows and ribbons to guide us, the first 50 miles went just fine, but just before our first rest stop, Rancho Coyote, we lost a nut out of the front end of the quad. It took us about half an hour to figure out a fix. a few miles later the clutch on the ATV started making some horrifying noises, we managed to limp it out to where the truck was waiting. 6 hours after we had left, it didn't leave us feeling very confident about race day!

We spent the next full day prepping the quad that was to be ridden for the race, luckily a different one from the one I pre ran on. Throughout the day more and more of the chase crew and riders began arriving, by nightfall, there were about 25 drunk, loud Canadians, Americans and Mexicans all working together to prep the quad.

The Morning of the race we got up at 4am to load and head down to the starting line, look some pictures, and watched our first rider take off through the streets of Ensenada, as soon as he was out of sight myself, my old man and Adam, our first rider's girlfriend piled into the truck and drove about an hour out of the city to where we were to meet Adam and lead him down a stretch of highway to the spot where our second rider was to get on.

After waiting for what seemed like forever, and a lot of ATVs going by, Adam emerged over the hill, we pulled out and lead him to Carlos, our second rider, did a quick check of the quad and watched him take off, Adam climbed in the truck and we began driving again, further south down the peninsula, to the spot where I was to get on.

As we drove, Adam told us how he had come over a hill and had to swerve around a booby trap set by the locals, lost control and drove halfway over a 200 foot cliff, the only thing that saved him was getting caught up in a large bush. After a friendly dirt biker stopped to help him he had taken off and had no issues after that getting to the checkpoint.

We arrived at the checkpoint and I suited up, filled my Camelbak and prepared to take my turn in the driver's seat, but Carlos was nowhere to be seen, about half an hour after the guy Adam had just caught when he got off passed, Carlos came limping down the trail with a flat tire. after a panicked tire change and a splash of fuel I set off, doing my best to regain the time we had lost while trying to save the motor for the next rider.

It was fairly easy to remember the first bit of the course, luckily I wasn't thrown off by the multiple arrows that had been flipped by spectators. The hard part was learning a quad that I had never ridden before, especially since it was twist throttle! (instert 2 wheel snickers here) the course had gotten rougher since our pre run, the silt beds were deeper as were the ruts, but I made good time across the wide open fields of the large ranches, the tricky part was spotting the 10 foot deep washouts that would pop up out of nowhere and getting slowed down in time to avoid being sent flying over the bars! I made my first pit stop about 30 miles in, fueled up and grabbed some water before taking off again, from there I began crossing a brutal mountain range, riding along ridges with 400 foot drops on either side, or along narrow trails with rock walls up one side and giant cliffs on the other. I managed to make it through to my second pit stop about 60 miles in at Rancho Coyote without issue, fuelled up, grabbed a quick drink and took a very hurried piss behind the trailer before re mounting and taking off into the incredibly rough, rocky and washed out section of trail between Rancho Coyote and Mike's Sky Ranch, about 25 miles of pure shit to ride over. I had one terrifying close call, nearly going over the bars while doing about 25 miles an hour down a rocky ledge, but otherwise made it through unscathed.

I arrived at Mike's Sky Ranch about 2 and a half hours after my departure, which was a very competitive pace, no pit stop, just a quick wave before taking off down the long, winding side road that was to bring me out to the highway and the end of my ride, but as luck would have it, only 7 miles from salvation, the engine let go on me. I had ridden 93 miles over some of the world's most brutal terrain, and from what I was told, the toughest section of the Baja 500, only to have everything come to a grinding halt at the very end.

I pushed the quad up off the trail and called my chase crew on the satellite phone I was carrying. It was then I got the real bad news. SCORE officials wouldn't let them drive in on the sideroad I was stuck on due to the fact that the Trophy Trucks, which average 140mph in that section, were on their way. I was stranded with a seized engine, a nearly empty camelbak and a single granola bar in the Mexican desert in the middle of the day. Things weren't looking too good.

As the team scrambled to find a way to rescue me, I laid down under a small tree completely barren of any leaves to provide shade, wrapped my jersey around my face and put my goggles on to shield my eyes at least a little. My water ran out very quickly so I just tried to take a nap, hoping to conserve water and energy.

No sooner had I drifted off than a helicopter roared above me about 50 feet off the ground, and right behind it on the ground was Robby Gordon going wide open in his Trophy Truck, at the time I was about 10 feet off the course, and let me tell you I've never run so fast in a pair of MX boots! Afterwards I moved about 40 feet further off the course and watched the trucks pass, Brent Menzies, BJ Baldwin and the rest, all the while noticing my vision getting burrier, my head beginning to pound and my mouth getting dryer.

3 hours after breaking down, I was severely dehydrated and suffering from heat stroke. Suddenly, El Niño, one of the riders who was to go after me, came riding around the corner on an old beat up quad, gave me water and towed me about a half mile back down the road to where it met with a sideroad, we loaded up and drove back out to the highway, 5 and a half hours after leaving, I was finally reunited with my Dad, I don't think I've ever been happier to see someone than right there. We drove back to Ensenada, about 2 hours, back to the house and had a big dinner. I still wasnt feeling well, and decided to go to bed, unfortunately my stomach had other plans. I ended up violently vomiting up my dinner and all the water and electrolyte I had managed to drink, and spent the rest of the night trying in vain to hold any type of fluid down.

The next day, we packed up, said goodbye to our newfound Mexican friends and drove to El Centro, California, stopping once in a while so i could get out and puke what was left of my guts out, to spend the night at one of Adam's friends' house. After staying the night, puking all over their very nice bathroom and then puking again whilst cleaning it up, we set off again for San Diego to catch our flight home, with a quick stop off to see Glamis and buy a T shirt at the famous Glamis Store. It took another 2 days for me to finally feel like a human being again, and once I did the first thing Adam asked me was "so are you coming back for the 1000?" I told him I would hold off for this year, and probably never go back, but there's always a possibility!

Even after all I went through during my attempt at the Baja 500, I still wouldn't go back and not do it. There aren't many Canadians who can say they have run the 500, and I am proud to be one of them! Now i can cross it off my bucket list and go back to doing laps around an MX track where you're visible and there's an ambulance and water present! I came away with a new T shirt, a wicked sticker on my bucket, and 2 hours of the coolest GoPro footage I've ever captured!



Our house for the week


Left to Right: Adam, Me, My dad in front of the Mexican mountains


Dad and I just before I took off