Just got back from another day at our local practice MX track (thanks Gary) where offspring number two brought his mate along with a borrowed Stomp 140 pitbike for an afternoon’s worth of dusty, sunburned and very sweaty hilarity.
It seems that this newly acquired RM85 big-wheel is a harbinger of injury for me. After breaking three ribs last Tuesday after flipping it over backwards, all the bark off my right big toe is now missing due to a flip-flop-wearing-kick-starting faux pas. Claret everywhere, there was. I wouldn’t mind so much but I’d managed it all day without inflicting injury. It’s always that last go, isn’t it?
True to plan, the razor sharp powerband and ferocious power delivery have sharpened up boy number two’s riding skills immeasurably. I always knew that would be the case as there’s nothing like a full-on, super-fit two-stroke to focus your attention. The RM85 is certainly all of the above. Twenty five horse power from eighty five cee cee. Nuts.
His mate, Chris, didn’t fare so well. His mate lent him his Stomp pit bike, which was very nice of him, but like these things sometimes do, the gesture backfired somewhat.
The track we were using is very technical with lots of washboard bumps, ruts, berms and tabletops. The RM85’s uber technical suspension soaks all this up in its stride like a magic carpet (with very long travel). Being loosely based on a Honda step-thru, the Stomp was a proper handful with really crude suspension and tiny wheels. Little Chris did his best all afternoon and certainly wasn’t shy with the twist grip, dedication or ambition. But when I watched him land a jump only to see the back wheel disappear into the confines of the rear mudguard – and stay there – I knew something had broken. He stayed on, though.
Sure enough it had broken. Spectacularly. The shock mount on the top of the swingarm had literally ripped itself free. On a ten month-old bike, ridden by a bantam weight rider, this part is clearly not strong enough.
On seeing this, one of the local kids, on a very used, very old Honda CR80 that was clearly crying out for some new rings and a fresh piston, came over to examine the damage and to offer his condollences. His comments weren’t printable but his generous offer of the use of his bike was touching, thoughtful and heartfelt. And, according to our local press and the furiosity of some of the full-time letter writing weirdos, these are the bad kids, the trouble causers, the ne’er do wells who blight our local town with their mischief and raucous behaviour.
Just misunderstood, I would say.
And do you know what? I missed a trick. I missed a reciprocal olive branch. I didn’t offer him a go on our 2011 RM85. I’m sat here now, kicking myself. How could I have been so dumb?
I’d watched this kid ride all day on his bald tyres with his wheezing, coughing and struggling CR80 barely making it into the powerband. Despite these huge handicaps, his natural ability had impressed me. The fact that he’d also pushed his bike the best part of two miles to get to this track was impressive in itself.
I have made an appointment with myself to return to this practice track this week and make sure that the lad with the knackered CR80, pike-nut nose-piercing and forearm tattoos gets a go on the 2011RM 85. He deserves it.
Pictures and video to follow.
