Squealin' Pig Hare Scrambles
“I had a split second to react, grabbing the front and rear brakes while pulling in the clutch and letting out a panic rev to bring attention to my impending crash.”
An hour before the start of the 25th annual Squealin’ Pig Hare Scramble, held in honour of Rob Hett since his passing in 2014. The conditions are pristine, the sun is out, bike set up is perfect and everything is falling into place. Meanwhile I am laying down in the back of my van, asking my wife to find the tum's, feeling nauseous and confused. After feeling good all week and having a good pre ride the day prior, it seemed as though my body was telling me that today was a day to lay low, but of course that’s not an option at an event like this. I kept the door shut until things settled and I felt well enough to go for one more little pre ride to warm up the bike and body. My hands felt weak, but I knew it wasn’t anything adrenaline couldn’t compensate for. Riders meeting is being called and it’s time to get into the race mindset.
The start of the race saw the entire Pro class line up with their front tires touching the same log, dead engine and waiting for the 308 rifle to send us off into the moto track. With the powder igniting in the chamber of the gun, the bikes fire to life and the front wheels are lofted over the timber. As the rear tires settle over the log, the throttles are twisted to the stops and off we go, the three and a half hour race is underway.
I got off the line in sixth place, choking on the dust from the five racers in front of me throughout the moto track and into the single track where the dust settled. This was not an easy course to make passes on and I was working every edge I could to try and have an advantage. Inside or outside line, I would generally take the opposite of the racer in front of me to try and make a pass. Third gear through a wider section, then clicking into fourth while riding the rear wheel of the racer in front of me, I was ready to make a pass. A few larger puddles were coming up quick and I had no intention of slowing down for them. Unbeknownst to me, the racer I am battling with was about to check up and slow down for the next large puddle. I raised my front wheel and stayed on the gas, causing a small tidal wave to erupt from either side of me. I didn’t look back, but I’m sure a large part of that wave landed directly on him, and part of me felt bad. If you're reading this Joe, sorry about that!
Back on the gas, there are more racers in front of me I need to catch and battle with. The slight sickness is starting to fade and I am starting to find my groove in the tighter single track. After the A/B rider split my pace picked up again and I was starting to make up some real time. The corners are flowing, whoops seem half the size and arm pump is non existent. I rode this momentum out of the tree line and towards a manned road crossing that brought us to the next section of course. I came in fast, to fast. I had so much speed that the slight right hander that followed the crossing and brought you on to the next section wasn’t even an option. Instead I had a split second to react, grabbing the front and rear brakes while pulling in the clutch and letting out a panic rev to bring attention to my impending crash. I went off the track and into the uncleared woods. My foot and foot peg grazed a tree on my left side as my right hand narrowly missed being pounded by another birch. A gang of smaller trees wacked my bike and body around while a sharp broken branch grazed my shoulder, picking up my jersey and ripping it. Another thick piece of wood gouged the paint off of my all white helmet and I hit the ground hard, coming to a rest at the stumps of the next set of trees waiting their turn to inflict pain. A quick wiggle of my toes and movement of my arms didn’t result in any significant pain. I Immediately got onto my feet and went to pick my bike up, but the skinnier trees are wrapped up and pinning it down. Luckily Kris Morel was on site for the entire crash and was already jumping into action, helping me get my 350 back onto two wheels. “Are you ok!” He yelled. I responded by hitting my electric start button and jumping right back into action. Only one racer passed me while this was happening and I wanted to keep the damage to a minimum. A little bit rattled, I had to tame it down to 80% and try to find my groove again. I kept moving forward and rode smooth and as I entered the AA split, focusing on riding mistake free. The first section has five logs back to back, each one larger than the last, and the rest of the AA keeps the same theme. Some logs are suspended off the ground, others lay rested on the earth but are three feet or more tall. I nailed all my lines and got through with no delays, keeping my 80% pace as I exited while trying to get my head back in the game.
Lap one came to a close and the second began with no pit stop. I was getting frustrated with what felt like a slow pace to me and tried to push it to what I knew I was capable of. For whatever reason this just wouldn’t work out, and upping my speed resulted in more mistakes. My confidence got boosted when I caught up to Ben Rego three quarters through the lap. We rode together and battled, eventually catching up to another pro racer near the end of the lap. I hit the pit tent and got fueled up. Rego and I both gained a position in the pits without knowing it and took off. I eventually got past Ben at the halfway mark of the final lap, and it was at this point that my speed and mindset finally settled in and I was feeling better. I kept it smooth, not knowing if I was in 3rd or 2nd place. I assumed that being three hours into the race at this point, whoever was leading probably had a good gap by now. As I hit the checkpoint at the AA split for the final time, James Collett punched my tag and told me I wasn’t too far behind the leader. That surprised me, but I knew I needed to focus on getting through the AA section clean before worrying about that.
After the AA section merged back onto the normal track, it clicked. That feeling of absolute control where you can do no wrong and everything flows at an incredible pace but feels slow motion to you. I was railing corners, jumping sections and staying on the gas though all the rough terrain. This is the pace I was looking for 2 hours ago, and the fact that it came with just a couple minutes left in the race was inconvenient at best. I rode great as we descended the final hill in the trees and came out into view of the main staging area. I felt like I was on rails, but first place was still out of reach at this point. I pushed through the final lap of the moto track and didn’t let off until I crossed the finish line, coming in just 13 seconds behind the winner, Josh Bridge. If I could of clicked into that pace just a little bit earlier, or if the track had 60 more seconds of racing on it I bet we could of had an awesome bar banging battle. But finishing uninjured and coming in second behind a fast rider like Josh is nothing to complain about!
I had a great time racing on the trails I grew up on, and the fact that so many people came out to participate not only in the race but in the whole weekend it self while paying tribute to my dad was heartwarming. Thank you to the Okanagan Off-Road Motorcycle club and all the people that came out to make this weekend such a great time!
– Malcolm Hett
