Warrensburg, Missouri

When I began racing in 1994, four primary colors ruled hare scramble starting lines: Red, green, blue, and yellow. Those who enjoyed quirky European dirt bikes and fatter wallets broke up the Japanese dominance just a bit, with a handful of white (at the time) KTMs and Husqvarna’s scattered throughout the field. But the masses chose the Big 4 and my old RMX250 blended well.

​Fast-forward to the present day, and the Far East has lost some ground in the Missouri woods. If not for a healthy contingent of race worthy Yamaha four-strokes, Japan would be a bit player in the Missouri Hare Scrambles Championship (MHSC). A typical starting field now resembles more of a pumpkin patch in October than a rainbow coalition. Orange bikes, partnered with a handful of other brands from Europe, now dominate off-road racing and they aren’t as quirky as they were a decade ago. Today the nonconformists are guys like me, riding green motocross bikes in the woods.

[cue the record-scratch]

Wait…green?

Yes, I brought a green dirt bike to Warrensburg, a new 2003 Kawasaki KX250 (two-stroke) and I am now racing this monster in the woods. Naturally I couldn’t just buy one off a showroom floor. Too straightforward, of course. Had to get it cheap, which required a Canadian importer called Motorcycle Brokers. The new bike arrived in a crate at a freight terminal in Lambert International Airport, was loaded into my truck with a forklift and assembled at home by yours truly, where the neighborhood kids marveled at the sight of a dirt bike in a box.

I couldn’t simply unpack the thing and go straight to a dirt bike race, however. One break-in ride at St. Joe State Park convinced me that would be a recipe for a trip to the emergency room, a rehab clinic, or both. The beast had to be tamed, and $2,000 later the KX250 rode like a dream.

Still, the green machine hadn’t been tested in race conditions, and today’s hare scramble would do just that. The Kansas Offoad series shared the Warrensburg location with the MHSC and I liked this course very much, even if it had been the final nail in my KTM coffin back in June. A handful of MHSC regulars used the race as practice, but most participants competing for series points came from the Kansas City vicinity. Their series included a fine schedule of events, most of which required far too much driving for a St. Louisian with a two-seater pickup truck nearing the end of its useful life as a reliable moto-carriage. Warrensburg would be my only Kansas Offroad event in 2003.

I registered for the A class and found the starting line full of familiar MHSC competitors such as Zach Bryant, Gary Pilant, Brad Crain, Ralph Gerding and others. Fast guys, for sure. Said front-row AA rider Brian Jahelka after the race, "I didn't like turning around and counting 17 bikes that would like to run me over." It was actually 16 bikes, and he needn’t have worried about me, so really Brian only had to fear 15 riders trying to run him over.

The KX250’s first test came with the dead-engine start, a staple of hare scramble racing. While motocrossers rev their engines, nervously anticipating the drop of a gate near their front tires, we nervously anticipate a wave of a flag or the drop of a 15-second board, in complete silence. When the Warrensburg race marshal let gravity take control of the board, the new bike fired immediately. This pleased me quite well, after so many multi-kick starts on past KTMs. I eagerly dumped the clutch and felt the movement of…nothing. At a point the motorcycle should have engaged in forward motion, I remained stationary. The whine of an over-revving engine buzzed through my loins, and I did not move. The transmission remained in neutral.

To quote legendary performance enhancer Lance Armstrong, It’s not about the bike. It’s me…I’m the problem.

It’s me.

I stomped the gear shifter, memories of previous idiocy flooding my brain. Perhaps failing to turn on the fuel ranked higher in my annals of stupidity, but not by much. When I finally achieved forward motion, the rest of the Euro-pack had already left me behind. To be honest, I had no lofty expectations of a fantastic finish among this group of racers, most who had already demonstrated more speed in the woods on a bad day than I could muster on my best. This was merely a race test for a new bike, I reminded myself.

Then I pondered yet another back-of-the-pack position at the start of a race, and pride took over. This wouldn’t be a testing day. Not now, on one of my favorite courses in all of Missouri. Rather, it would be a grit-yer-teeth, bang gears, slam corners and haul the mail kind of day.

Game on.

With help from mistakes by others, I advanced a few spots in the first half of the first lap. Zach Bryant tangled with another rider and appeared to have taken the fight to a tree, now missing large chunks of bark. In a section of new trail, fast guy Caleb Wohletz was pulled over, victim of a loose oil drain bolt. Zach stopped to help and later brought back oil after a pit stop, which explained why I never again heard his throttle-pinned RM125.

The A class gradually spread out, leaving a bit more breathing room inside the trails. The course had been laid out in reverse, more or less, of the earlier MHSC race in June, but all the interesting property features remained intact. Warrensburg trail bosses always route the bikes through small streams which carve narrow passages paved with silt and rocks. Some are deep and narrow, while others are wide and fast. All eventually lead into to the main creek, where water levels deepen and the odds of an evangelical-style baptism increase. On the first lap, we followed a small channel to the main creek, turned left (upstream or down, who knew?) and plowed 30 yards through 18 inches of flowing water. The right half of the creek had been marked off with yellow caution tape, probably as a warning to stay left or have one’s bike rescued by scuba divers. Where the string of yellow tape ended, trail arrows directed us to pivot 90 degrees and exit near the staging area. This was new. In all my years of racing, I’d never seen a hard right-hand turn in the center of a fully flowing, murky waterway. With my tires 70% submerged, I planted my right boot on whatever lie at the bottom of the creek and jerked the handlebars to the right. The front wheel, now acting more like a boat rudder, guided me as I blindly tiptoed the bike toward dryland.

Back on dirt, the KX250 proved itself a capable woods bike. I’d always heard Japanese motocross bikes know how to turn, and this one did not disappoint. An exaggerated comparison to my past KTMs would be the difference between a regular bicycle and a tandem. Both will turn just fine, but one gets the job done more quickly. However, the KX250 has no adjustable steering stops and its turning radius is a bit wider than KTM two-strokes. In the south half of Missouri, super tight turns aren’t really a thing, and unless you’re racing an adventure bike, there’s not much need to tighten down steering stops. But one important spot in the Warrensburg course had me wishing, just for a second, for the old KTM. Near the end of the course was a fork in the trail, where riders could choose “Easy” or “Hard” routes. I assumed “Hard” meant shorter and faster, so I took the sharp 90-degree left turn down a steep ravine. The KX250 struggled to navigate this tight corner, but I could live with one second of aggravation over a 9-mile course, for this bike was fire on wheels.

The first lap concluded with me and the new bike in 10th place, closely behind an individual on a 4-stroke KTM wearing sagging pants. This gentleman, who shall be named Britches, displayed more of his backside than anyone should be made to endure inside Missouri woodlands. Had the course been muddy, I suspect Britches would have been wearing the pants around his knees. When he struggled with tree roots, I made my way around, only to give back the position after he won a drag race through an open area. I followed his half-moon through the end of the second lap, where we both gained one spot in the A class standings.

Britches continued to reveal himself on the third lap, where we passed fellow A rider Gary Pilant. When my eyes weren’t drawn to the bare buttocks out front, my senses focused on the bike below. Suspension testing is certainly not a strength, but I could tell the forks needed a couple more clicks of rebound. The stiff clutch pull taxed my forearm and the bike’s exhaust note made my old KTMs sound like sewing machines. These minor complaints were easily fixable with a few more aftermarket purchases. The engine’s power band, however, would stay as it were. The bike begged to be ridden with the throttle twisted aggressively and judicious use of the clutch. As MHSC regular Kevin Ruckdeschell had warned, a motocross-turned-woods bike requires a different level of physical fitness. But the rewards paid off in nicely bermed corners, where a quick burst of power sent me and the KX250 into warp factor 9. The green bike shined in a grass track just beyond the main creek crossing and remained stable in wide-open sprints across grassy pastures. After 5 years of KTM headshake, mushy front brakes and carburetor fiddling, the new bike had me re-excited about racing. This thing was legit.

In the second half of lap three, Britches appeared to be tiring. I stuck to his rear wheel in a section of new trails, but he maintained just enough speed to make for a difficult pass. Then, as we dropped down a steep bank to cross deep water in the main creek, Britches gave in to the pressure and let me by. The white flag appeared at the end of lap, where I’d moved up to 7th place.

Britches followed closely for a time, then faded. My speed increased, and by the end of the fourth lap I caught up to Kansas series regular Dan Johnson on his KTM. With little time or opportunity to pass, I settled in behind him as the race came to an end.

Or so I thought.

No checked flag was visible at the scoring trailer, so I began another journey around the course. I’d slowed down, thinking my race was over, and Dan Johnson pulled away, but on the 5th lap I caught him in a short run through a small creek. This little channel dumped us into the main creek with the yellow caution tape warning us to stay out of the deep water. I set aside fears of submerging my new bike and attempted a pass. As we pivoted 90 degrees in the center of the creek, I charged through the water and made use of the KX's nitrous-like powerband to exit the creek just ahead of Dan. I must admit, dumping the clutch and flying up that creek bank was a boatload of cool.

I held off Dan for the remainder of the last lap and finished 4th in the A class and 9th overall. My lap times showed more speed with each lap, which seemed to counter the warnings given by several former MX-bike woods racers that a motocross bike would wear me out. Granted, the KX250 would need further testing in more diverse conditions, but the Warrensburg preview suggested green was, indeed, the new orange.