Timekeeping Enduros
Since 1972
A Special Thanks to Our Sponsors:
The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly Results are
HERE
TWMC Enduro Finale: GBU Crew Delivers a Wild Ride!
The last checkered flag of the TWMC Enduro Series season has waved, and what a way to go out! The "Good, the Bad, and the Ugly" crew pulled out all the stops this past weekend, leaving riders champing at the bit for the next four months of summer until the series kicks off again.
Things kicked off Saturday with a spread that’d make your mouth water. Tri-tip, grilled chicken, and enough sides to feed a small army – the club potluck was a hit. The silence was deafening, a sure sign the grub was top-notch. Nobody was talkin’ with all that eatin’ to be done!
Course Shenanigans and Secret Tests!
Sunday, the GBU gang really shook things up. The course was tailor-made for a late May scorcher: not too gnarly, but with enough speed tests to keep everyone honest. Beginners and Sports riders even got to mix it up on the main course with the big guns, and for a real twist, the Amateurs were put on their own timekeeping!
But the real stroke of genius, especially for the GBU crew, was a deception campaign worthy of James Bond himself. They ribboned and arrowed a "special test" for the Masters and Experts that was a complete hoax! Several Masters were still fretting over this phantom section as they pulled into the very last check of the event! Then, just to mess with everyone’s heads, the actual special test popped up at the beginning of the third loop. And if that wasn't enough, some joker named Jeff was running around in a ghillie suit, scaring riders silly as they unsuspectingly rode into his check. Nobody knew what was going on, all day long!
Close Calls and Crafty Riding!
Most of the results weren't even close, but the Senior-Expert class was a genuine nail-biter! Rick and Tim were duking it out right down to the wire. Rick had the win locked up, but a five-second penalty at the final check meant Tim snuck ahead by a single second. These two have been trading blows all season, and Tim’s gotta be feelin’ good with that momentum heading into the off-season.
In the Master class, Brett put on an enduro riding clinic, taking the overall. While other riders were hitting the third-loop special test more or less on time, Brett rolled in a good three or four minutes early! Trail Boss Bob scratched his head after the race, saying, "I wondered why Brett looked so bad. It looked like he could barely ride a bike in those rocks. I can’t prove it, but I think he was scrubbing off those four minutes..." Whatever he was doing, sucking in the rocks was exactly what kept Brett from riding in early and made him the only rider on time in that special. Smart riding, Brett!
For the Ammies, the 24 mph section through the slabs on the third loop was their proving ground. Not a single Amateur made it to the check on time. But John H.’s speed through that section, combined with his rock-solid consistency all day, set him apart, earning him the Ammie victory.
New Blood and Old Legends
On the new-guy front, Morgan P. and his son Logan P. took home wins in the Novice and Novice X classes, respectively. Great job for the newcomers! On the other end of the spectrum, old-timer and United MC legend John P. added another trophy to his cabinet in the Super Senior class, and Rod M. took the Legends win.
But the real heroes of the day were the Beginners and Sports riders who tackled the main Sunday course alongside the big boys. The trail bosses laid out a stellar course, with Sport riders like Mary exclaiming, "I've never made it to the 2.9 before and still had other riders there. I am always so far behind, the others are always long gone!" Young Caden C. rode his TTR-125 like a demon, dropping only 31 seconds to claim the Beginner victory. Karen P. slowly lost ground as the loop wore on, but she was fast enough to hold on for the Sport class win.
All in all, the GBU enduro was good enough to leave us wanting more, and definitely sad that we’ve got a four-month wait until the next event. Better start wrenching, boys and girls!
GBU Enduro Route Sheets and
Roll Charts Below!
Route Sheet
Roll Chart
Roll Chart W/O Speeds
TWMC Presents:
Round 6
The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly Enduro
May 17-18
Location : Cougar Buttes
34.484564, -116.827389
Saturday Events:
Signups: 10 AM to Noon
Junior: 4 PM
Potluck and General Meeting: 6:00
Sunday Events:
Signups: 7:30 - 8:30
Rider’s Meeting: 8:30
Key Time: 9:00
Beginner/Sport rides the Main Loop Sunday!
Potluck Theme: Cowboy Potluck
The GBU crew will be cooking tri-tip.
You bring the other meats, salads, sides,
and deserts!
Cinco de Moto Results
HERE
CINCO DE MOTO DELIVERS TWMC CLASSIC:
TACOS, TRACTION & TRIUMPH IN THE DESERT
The TWMC’s annual Cinco de Moto returned with a vengeance this past weekend, combining a festive Saturday with a rugged, timekeeper enduro on Sunday that tested riders across the board. From sizzling tacos to rocky climbs, it was another memorable chapter for the club’s 2025 season.
SATURDAY: TACO TIME & TIGHT RACING
The weekend kicked off with Saturday’s events, showcasing an expanding field of riders but with familiar names up front. Young gun Xander notched his first win in the Junior class, while Jackson continued his dominance in Beginner, pulling away from a deep lineup. In the Sport class, Karen extended her championship lead with a clean victory ahead of Steph and Mikayla.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the Zavala family turned the camp into a party, dishing out their now-legendary fiesta feast. Spirits were high, but trail boss John wore a knowing grin—Sunday’s race would bring a different kind of heat.
SUNDAY: THE HILL OF DOOM
Sunday’s enduro served up a true West Spangler classic—rocks, more rocks, loose rocks, embedded rocks, and rolly rocks, and a course that punished anything less than full commitment. John’s layout had riders second-guessing checks, but the defining feature was the infamous “Hill of Doom”, which proved to be the great separator.
Expert class standout Robbie made it look effortless. “Second gear, straight up. What’s the problem?” he quipped after the race. For the mere mortals, the problem was gravity. Behind him, Brett and Hayden rounded out the top three, with Hayden’s first try at the hill nearly flawless—until a late-race spill on the mountain cost him the Expert class overall.
In Amateur, newcomer Edward F. turned heads with a breakout ride, clocking just three seconds behind Senior Expert winner and enduro GOAT Tim, who once again showed he’s not ready to hand over the keys just yet. Tim’s performance earned him the overall Yellow Bar for the day.
Stephan B. secured his third Super Senior win of the season, though he still trails Dick C. in the overall chase. Meanwhile, in the Novice class, Trenton J. bested series regular Logan R., who unexpectedly became the first rider to summit the “Hill” on loop two. But he got cocky—tried it again, and the hill laughed, slapped his front tire sideways, and sent his race into the dustbin.
LOOKING AHEAD
The Cinco de Moto was more than tacos and terrain—it was a turning point in the TWMC season. With fresh faces shaking up the standings and veterans holding strong, all eyes now turn to the final round of the riding season in two weeks. If this weekend was any indication, the season finale is going to be one to watch.
Cinco de Moto
Roll Charts & Route Sheets
Are Below:
Roll Chart
Route Sheet
6th Annual
TWMC
Cinco de Moto Enduro
May 3 & 4
Sardinia Dry Lake
35.429791, -117.596225
Saturday
10ish to 12ish: Signups
1:00 Junior
2:00 Sport/Beginner
6:00 Mexican Themed Potluck
6:30 General Meeting
Sunday
7-8:30 Signups
8:30 Rider’s Meeting
9:00 KEY TIME!!!!
41st Keg Run Results
HERE
Congratulations to all the class winners!
There are a few certainties in life: death, taxes, and the fact that the Moore Family is going to throw one heck of an enduro in April. This year’s 41st running of the Keg Run didn’t disappoint. Unless you were hoping for a section of straight trail—then, yeah, you were in the wrong event.
At the sharp end of the pack, things were tighter than a cactus-lined singletrack after two days of tacos. The top six riders were packed into less than 21 seconds—which, in enduro math, is basically elbow-to-elbow.
Jake B. came out swinging and rode like a man trying to forget March ever happened. And brother, he did—clinching the Overall win with a blistering time and only 3 seconds ahead of Brent B. Word on the trail is Brent dropped 12 seconds on Check 3 of the first loop. That was all Jake needed to seal the deal and redeem himself.
Now, about the course: It wasn’t "technical" in the sense that it required a PhD in clutch control, but it sure had more twists and turns than a soap opera written by latte-drunk rabbits with ADHD. The infamous moon rocks near Charlie’s Place were back with a vengeance, and the Moores, seasoned veterans of sneaky fun, laid out fair but devilish checks that kept your average timekeeper sweating.
The multiple tight sections in the rocks became art galleries of bike-colored scrapings. And just when riders thought they were in the clear, a special test at the end gave the Masters and Experts a chance to really air out their fatigue—and their frustration. Riders pounded the rocks and sketchy hills hard only to exit the special into a reset which gave them minutes to take a breather.
Down in the Amateur ranks, John H. made his presence known like a chainsaw in a church, taking a commanding class win. Rick S. somehow survived and thrived to claim the Senior-Expert class, likely powered by grit and determination.
Meanwhile, in the “Last Men Standing” category, Dick C. and Jason H. took home wins for being the only ones stubborn—or smart—enough to finish their classes. Respect.
John P. kicked off his club membership by snagging the Legends trophy, and Daniel S. not only nabbed the Novice-X win, but stuck around to snap photos of the second-loop riders like some sort of racing paparazzi. Go check out his Instagram – @dans_photography2023.
And on Saturday, Madison B., Luke B., and Steph S. each hauled in hardware, proving once again that the future of desert racing is in good hands—and not afraid of a little sand in the teeth.
Post-race, the Moore crew wrapped it all up with finisher glasses and burgers, a combo that’s been satisfying dirt bikers since the dawn of the monoshock. That’s 41 events in the books, folks. Here’s to 41 more.
Wheelie Good Stories
By Dieter Dirtflinger
April 2025
So, You Want to be a Master?
So, you want to be an enduro racer? Really? What’s that? You say you think you can hack it riding with the Masters? Well, that’s cute. Really. Reminds me of a guy I once knew who tried to trim his toenails with an angle grinder. Same ambitious energy.
Now, let me set your expectations somewhere between “longshot” and “tragedy.” If you think you’re gonna sashay your way into Master class and start winning overalls, I got bad news. You’re gonna need grit, guts, and the kind of stubbornness usually reserved for old men who refuse to ask for directions.
Let’s talk training. Every real Master wakes up before 4 AM. Not because we like it — we don’t. It’s just that we usually have to pee, and the dog needs to be let out anyway. Me? I like to start my day with an eight-mile jog down the county road, one KTM 300 flywheel in each hand, dragging a pair of used Dunlops behind me. It builds character.
Breakfast? Kale and hotdog smoothie. Why? Because I’m a man of contradictions, and also eggs are too damn expensive. It’s the perfect balance of leafy greens and mystery meat to fuel the real workout – an hour and a half of slinging weights – usually old motor parts. You ever press a YZ250 crankshaft together with your left hand while curling a set of forks with your right? That’s Tuesday around here.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. “If this guy’s such a beast, why’s he rocking a gut like a beer vendor at a ball game?” Well lemme educate you, sunshine. This here gut? It’s strategic ballast. You ever ride into a rock garden and think about picking your way through like some kind of drunken mosquito at a rave? Not me. With this gut, I just barrel through. Hit the gas. The inertia of this gut carries me through. It’s like a flywheel – but made of mashed potatoes.
How do I keep my bike in as good of shape as my bod? Well, after my morning workout, I take a quick trip into the garage to comb through the bike before I head into work for the day. I do a complete bike rebuild between events. Crank, piston, new bearings and seals Monday. Tuesday, put it back together. Rear shock rebuild Wednesday. Thursday, the rest of the frame, forks, steering bearings. And don’t you dare ask if I “check my spokes.” That’s rookie talk. I x-ray them.
Of course I have a real job! That’s where I go after my morning bike maintenance. I guess I’m kinda lucky with my job, as my boss totally respects my enduro mastery. Now, if I get a call from the KTM brass asking about which direction they need to go with swingarm flex or rake angles, my boss is totally cool with me taking a couple hours explaining to them how to make their bikes better. Most days, he lets me take off early to get back to what is important, enduro training.
What’s that? Training for riding possibles? That’s easy. As I drive to work, I time all my traffic stops to be on the 30 second mark. In fact, I don’t know a single Master that doesn’t have atomic clock time running in their head. Go ahead, ask any Master what second it is of what minute. For myself, I find it helps to break down all my daily actions into sprints and scrubs to keep my circadian rhythm on enduro time.
No, scrubbing talent isn’t something we Masters are born with; we have to practice diligently to be able to come into a check three minutes hot, slam on the breaks, and hold our position on the top of a mound of rocks until we can gracefully, and with the admiration of the check workers, glide between the stakes right on the 30 second mark. Now, different masters practice this differently. I can only speak for myself and say, once I start to practice balancing on the bike, I usually don’t stop -- even for restroom breaks. My wife knows by now to just bring my dinner out to me where I eat standing on the pegs.
Wait, where ya going? I haven’t even started to tell you about all the perks that come with riding with the Masters. What do you mean you’d rather ride Grand Prix races? Well, don’t let me stop ya. Just don’t come back crying when you realize the only thing “grand” about them is the cost.
Keg Run Roll Charts and Route Sheets:
Route Sheet
Roll Chart
Roll Chart W/O Speed
41st Keg Run Enduro
Moore Bros. Racing
April 12 & 13
Charlie’s Place - Spangler OHV
Saturday Events
Sign ups: 11:00-1:00
Easter Bunny: 11:00ish
Easter Egg Hunt: 11:30ish
Juniors: 1:00
Beginners/Sport: 2:00
Potluck: 5:30
Potluck Theme: Appetizers and Keg
Sunday Events
Sign-ups: 7:30-8:30
Rider’s Meeting: 8:30
Keg Run Enduro Key Time: 9:00
Burgers and Dogs after the Event!
Wheelie Good Stories
By Dieter Dirtflinger
March 2025
The Great Kid Bike Debate: How to Spend a Fortune While Trying to Save Money
If you sit around a campfire long enough, you’ll hear a lot of deep, philosophical discussions. Things like how to properly set sag, how far into the ICO pacer to run, and of course, the never-ending debate among dads about what bike to get their growing kid next.
This is serious business. Every dad is convinced that with the right bike, the right amount of practice, and just a little push (or a lot), his kid will be the next Davis or Abbott. No—scratch that—his kid is already the next factory-backed, helmet-signing, championship-dominating, dirt-slinging phenom. All that’s standing between this bright future and reality? The Right Bike.
But let’s face it, most of us don’t have the cash to keep little Jimmy on a fresh factory ride every season. So, we have to be strategic. That bike is going to have to last a while, and it has to be just right.
Now, the logical choice is the trusty four-stroke trail bike. Reliable. Tractable. Practically indestructible. And best of all, slow. The kid will have to actually work to go fast enough to do serious damage. But here’s the problem—Dad knows his kid is the next Brabec, and there’s no way the future Dakar champ is going to putt around on a glorified lawnmower. No, we need something fast. Something exciting. Something that will light a fire in the young racer’s heart.
Enter the two-stroke screamer. A race bike. Now we’re talking! But, of course, this comes with its own set of problems. It’s more expensive. It needs constant maintenance. And, oh yeah, it will allow Junior to achieve escape velocity and launch himself into orbit the first time he twists the throttle too hard.
See? This isn’t easy.
I had the blessing—or the curse—of going through this exact nightmare three times. Three kids, three bikes, three sets of arguments. In the early years, I played it safe. Trail bikes all around. Slow, reliable, safe. And then, in what felt like the blink of an eye, my kids had the audacity to grow. My two oldest daughters shot up overnight, requiring full-sized bikes. My son graduated from the tiniest trail bike we had to the biggest—a Honda 150. Perfect, I thought. That’ll last him a while.
I was a fool.
Shortly after the bike shuffle, we had the Sleigh Ride Enduro. A brutal, rocky mess of a course. My kids were pumped to test out their new rides, and I was eager to see how they handled the challenge. Usually, I made sure they were a few minutes ahead of me so I could be there if something went wrong. My son, being the youngest, was always a good three or four minutes ahead, meaning I rarely saw him on the trail.
But this year, thanks to some clerical mix-up, he was slotted just one minute ahead of me.
For the first two loops, I barely saw him. But the third loop was fast—too fast for him to keep up. Or so I thought. As the course got rougher, I expected to finally catch up to him. Instead, I heard him before I saw him. The low-pitched scream of a 150 tapped out, rev limiter begging for mercy. I twisted the throttle to close the gap, and there he was—feet on the pegs, clutch slipping, absolutely wringing the neck of that poor bike.
I swelled with pride. That’s my boy!
Then we hit a rock field.
CLANK! BANG! CLANK!
He didn’t shut off. He didn’t slow down. The wimpy suspension was bottoming out so hard I could practically hear the frame crying for relief. Every hit sent shockwaves through the poor machine. He was riding it like he stole it.
BANG!
I winced.
That 150 wasn’t going to survive this.
I could already hear my wallet crying.
As I watched my son plow through rocks like a bulldozer with a death wish, it hit me—this was inevitable. No matter how carefully you pick a bike, no matter how much thought goes into the “perfect” machine, kids are going to ride the way they ride. They’ll push whatever you give them to its absolute limits, and just when you think you’ve made the right choice, they’ll either outgrow it, destroy it, or scare the living daylights out of you on it.
I knew right then and there: that Honda 150 had maybe two more rides left in it before it was a parts bike.
And I also knew what would happen next.
A bigger bike. A faster bike. A more expensive bike.
Because deep down, despite all the logic, all the careful planning, and all the painful financial reality, there’s one universal truth about dads and dirt bikes:
We all secretly want our kid to be the next Brabec.
Even if it bankrupts us.
The Eberzberg Rodeo Results are
HERE
Thanks to everyone who came out and participated.
See you all next month at the Keg Run!
Eberzberg Rodeo 2025: Rocks, Waterfalls, and a Chili-Induced Grumble
The third stop on the Training Wheels calendar, the 2025 Eberzberg Rodeo, rolled into North Spangler last weekend, managing to sneak in two prime riding days between Mother Nature’s scheduled windstorms and downpours. With dusty conditions that could best be described as "why couldn’t the rain have come last week," riders lined up ready to take on 14 miles of prime single-track.
Saturday was less about racing and more about socializing—because let’s be honest, half of off-road racing is just an excuse to sit around a fire and talk about racing. The now-legendary Chili Cookoff saw over 15 families unleash their secret recipes, turning the potluck into an all-you-can-eat endurance event. Reports from the front lines say there were simply too many chilis to sample, and that’s not even counting the delicious side dishes lurking on the table. The real test, though, was in eating all that chili and not needing to take an unscheduled pit stop mid second loop. By nightfall, the air was filled with laughter, tall tales, and the distant rumble of somebody’s generator firing up way past an acceptable hour, at least we hope it was a generator.
Race Day: Into the Rocks we Go
With the Eberhardt crew and Micah W. working their magic, Sunday’s 14-mile loop was a work of art. The mostly virgin and fresh single-track terrain broke in to, what most riders said, was a very rideable and flowy course mixed with lots of technical washes and rocks.
Fast guy Thomas looked to have the overall win in the bag—right up until the final special test. That’s where he wedged himself into a waterfall section with all the grace of a beached whale. According to his post-race analysis, he spent four agonizing minutes wrestling his four-stroke up the cascade. Later riders jammed up the same spot, boiling coolant onto the rocks and turning the whole thing into an impromptu ice-skating rink.
Cue Robbie—who either possesses a sixth sense for sketchy terrain or just doesn’t believe in conventional race lines. While others were locked in waterfall gridlock, he sniffed out a creative route and kept it pinned, securing the overall win in the process.
Class Battles: The Survival of the Least Delayed
The Amateur class turned into a two-man war, with Brian and Alex M. being the only ones remotely on time. Brian, however, must have had a side deal with old Cronos because he racked up less than half the penalty seconds of Alex, taking home the win.
Over in Senior Expert, Tim M. and Dean B. slugged it out all day, keeping their scores tight—until Tim decided seconds were for other people and collected half of the seconds Dean did to snag the class victory. Meanwhile, club newcomer Ulrich S. stormed the Super Senior ranks in his first outing, proving that fresh blood can shake things up.
Danielle B. grabbed the Novice one-loop trophy, but the day’s most dominant performance came from Logan R. in the Novice class. Logan wasn’t just on time—he was on another level, winning his class by a staggering 20 minutes. Either he is a secret pro or he’s been training in some sort of underground moto dojo.
Final Thoughts
When the dust (and chili) settled, the Eberzberg Rodeo delivered everything a proper enduro should—killer terrain, sneaky checks, and the kind of stories that will only get better with time. Whether you walked away with a trophy or just a jammed thumb, one thing’s for sure: the Eberzberg Rodeo once again proved that dirt bike racing is 90% skill, 10% luck, and 100% about having a good time. Until next month, keep it pinned and stay out of the waterfalls.
Roll Charts and Route Sheets are Here:
Route Sheet
Roll Chart
Roll Chart W/O Speed
TWMC Eberzberg Rodeo
Timekeeping Enduro
March 8 & 9
35.638053, -117.479742
The Potluck has changed time to 5:00!!!
Potluck is CHILI COOKOFF
Bring your best chili to compete in the cookoff
OR bring a chili themed side
OR any of your favorite dishes or deserts!
Macho Man Results are
HERE
Email us at TWMCsecretary@gmail.com
if you have any questions or concerns
Thanks to Tim for getting these out so soon!
Macho Man 2025
We said it last year, and we’ll say it again, “The Enduro Gods love the Macho Man.” With a proper deluge on Thursday, the dirt was so perfect that even the most hardened sandbagger was grinning like a kid who just found a five-dollar bill in his riding pants. Conditions were so prime on Friday and Saturday that riders ran the very real risk of riding themselves stupid before the first rider left Sunday morning.
While the Enduro Gods favored the riders with the rain, the crew putting on the event probably felt like a dispossessed people. That same rain, along with the wind, wreaked havoc on the course markings, tearing arrows from the stakes and knocking the ribbon off the bushes. Starting from near scratch, the Macho Man crew was able to cobble a course back into riding shape in just a few short days. Hats off to you guys and gals!
And what a course it was! With enough sand hills to make the crustiest old hands smile and rocky, loose cracks to please the young bloods, everyone came away smiling - at the riding at least. The checks were another story. Brett really had everyone guessing in Ringo’s crack. On one loop, riders were late, and on the next, Brett caught ‘em trying to cheat up and get early. Jeff, of Sleigh Ride fame, showed why we call him ‘evil elf’ Jeff with his creative checks. Barely legal, barely visible, Jeff’s checks were so sneaky, even the rule book was giving him the side eye.
In the end, Thomas took the overall win, dragging amateur hotshot Bennie along for the Amateur class victory. Robbie snagged the Expert win, Farshid locked down Senior Expert, and Dick made up for a rough last round by clinching the Super Senior win. Meanwhile, Logan is riding like he’s got a personal vendetta against the Novice class, and the one-loop warriors, Danielle and Rod, claimed victory in Novice-X and Legends. Special shoutout to the next generation of throttle twisters—Madison and Luke—who both brought home wins Saturday and surely made their parents proud.
And then, the grand finale: the sausage party courtesy of Brett and Tony, proving once again that the true spirit of enduro isn’t just about riding—it’s about hanging out with friends, bench racing, and eating questionable amounts of grilled sausages and chili afterward.
Big thanks to everyone who rode, worked, spectated, or just stood around being helpful. See you all next month at the Eberzberg Enduro.
Roll Charts and Route Sheets are in!
Route Sheet
Roll Chart
Roll Chart Without Speed
TWMC Enduro Series
Round 2
Macho Man Enduro
February 15-16
Location: Teagle Wash Road
35.514263, -117.556101
Saturday Events
Signups: 10:00-12:00
Junior: 12:00
Beginner/Sport: 2:00
Enduro Bike Slow Race: 4:00
Potluck: 6:00 Theme is Comfort Food.
General Meeting: 6:30 - 7:00
Sunday Events
Signups: 7:00-8:30
Rider’s Meeting: 8:30
Key Time: 9:00
Questions, concerns, comments, or want to join us?
Drop us a line at twmcsecretary@gmail.com
Wheelie Good Stories
By Dieter Dirtflinger
February 2025
YOSHI'S BIG RACE: A LOVE STORY ON KNOBBIES
Yoshi Yamaha could smell it in the air. The crisp bite of February. The Macho Man Enduro. His favorite enduro, even though he never liked that name. Something like the Brokeback Mountain Enduro seemed more fitting for that particular enduro, but nobody asked his opinion—not that they ever asked the bike’s opinion on anything.
His “owner”—because bikes, much like cats, have no real attachment to their humans and therefore no need for names—had washed him, changed his filter, and topped him off with fresh gas. Yoshi felt fresh and ready to scoot his owner up and down some sandhills!
Then came the dreaded truck ride. Yoshi endured the icy haul, strapped down tighter than a factory budget. By the time they reached camp, the place was already jammed with riders. His rider, too tired (or too lazy) to unload him that night, left him in the back of the truck to dream of wide-open throttle and perfectly timed shifts.
Morning came, and with it, the usual pre-race chaos. Yoshi’s owner finally wrestled him out of the truck, and the bike took stock of the competition. Two rigs over sat a cluster of Kawasakis, all smug and green. Yoshi gave them a respectful nod. A group of Husky girls waved flirtatiously. A couple of Hondas rolled by, looking self-important. And then…he caught a snippet of gossip. Something about a new girl.
Yoshi had no time to ponder this mystery before his owner threw a leg over and fired him up. A few warm-up laps around camp, and then—it happened. He turned a corner and saw her.
She was orange.
Bright. Sparkling. A factory-fresh vision of Austrian engineering perfection. No scratches, no scuffs, no duct tape hastily applied after a bad line choice. Surrounded by a pack of drooling humans, she stood tall, knowing full well she was a sight to behold. Yoshi’s carburetor nearly flooded on the spot.
Love at first rev.
The rest of the day was a blur. Yoshi’s owner kept tweaking clickers and muttering about “something feeling off.” Something was off—Yoshi couldn’t focus. He was tripping over his own knobs, over-revving, braking too late. He swore she had looked at him. Maybe even smiled at him. Oh, she definitely smiled at him. Tomorrow, he would prove himself. Tomorrow, he would be worthy of that smile.
Race day dawned, and Yoshi was wide awake. He didn’t know where she would be, but he knew she would be watching. He rode harder than he ever had. His owner felt the extra power. “Must be the cold air,” the rider thought. No, buddy. It was love.
First loop, he saw her at a check. His owner floundered, but Yoshi stepped in, keeping him on time. He wasn’t about to let his guy look like a squid in front of her.
Second loop, same deal. Yoshi carried them through, keeping his rider upright when he had no business staying that way. He dodged rocks, slipped clutch when needed, and made split-second decisions his rider wasn’t even aware of. Every time they passed her, he imagined she was impressed.
Then came the fourth loop. The special test. The final chance to impress. Yoshi gave it everything. Twice, his rider nearly wadded up. Twice, Yoshi saved him. They crested a final hill, the check just below. And there she was. Watching.
This was it. Yoshi was going to fly into that check, make her see him in all his glory. He lined up his approach—
And then his rider grabbed a fistful of brake.
“Whoa! What’s this? Who made it down this? How many people have gotten hurt on this?”
A one-foot drop.
Yoshi’s gears nearly locked in embarrassment. Are you serious, dude? He tried to resist the rage boiling inside his cylinder. But then he saw her. Laughing.
That was it. That was the last straw.
Yoshi twisted the throttle himself. Wide. Open.
The rider wasn’t ready. Didn’t matter. Yoshi launched down the hill, flinging his rider off the back like yesterday’s roost. The bike—who even needs a rider?—blasted down the hill and through the check, throttled into history, and cemented himself as a legend.
Did he get the girl?
Did it even matter?
Yoshi had made his mark. A bike who needed no rider to finish.
Broken Resolutions Results are HERE
BROKEN RESOLUTIONS ENDURO: THE TRADITION CONTINUES
Ah, the start of the season—a time of renewed hope, fresh gear, and shattered delusions. Seven whole weeks to train, dial in the bike, and chip away at the holiday insulation that mysteriously appeared around your midsection. You had big plans: cutting back on junk food, hitting the gym, maybe even—gasp—practicing! But let’s be real, most of us just slapped some shiny new Christmas parts on the bike, changed the oil (or at least thought about it), and called it good.
And then came round one: the Broken Resolutions Enduro—aptly named, since it took about five minutes for most riders to completely abandon their grand pre-season plans. Veteran sandbaggers aimed to maintain dominance, rookies came in wide-eyed and full of optimism, and everyone on the start line secretly believed this was the year they’d become an enduro legend.
THE COURSE: A TRUE ENDURANCE TEST
Enduro mastermind Asher put together a layout that was equal parts timekeeping challenge and “I really should have gone to the gym” reality check. Hills, rocky sections, and enough technical nastiness to keep riders from getting too comfortable. Then, just to make things interesting, Mother Nature decided to dump some rain, snow, and sleet—perfect conditions for those who enjoy suffering.
THE RESULTS: WHO SURVIVED THE STORM?
In the Master class, Matt Eberhardt was on track for the win heading into the final special test. All he had to do was keep his New Year’s resolution to stop riding like a retired librarian. Naturally, he failed. One minute lost, one top spot down. Brett Ribenenck, proving that consistency (and possibly witchcraft) wins races, snagged the overall victory like the seasoned pro he is.
Meanwhile, in the Expert class, Robbie Butze kicked off his Expert debut with a win, while his dad proved that speed runs in the family by taking the Super Senior class. After Tim Moore uncharacteristically burned a check on the first loop and got a flat causing a DNF, super-stud Rick Samuelson won the Senior Expert Class. Hannah Ribeneck fought through a stacked field to dominate the Amateur class, while Logan Roe crushed the Novices to cap off a full-course showdown.
For the one-loop warriors, Legend Rod McInnis and Novice-X Brice M. took top honors, while Saturday’s younger racers saw Reign W., Jackson R., and fresh-faced newcomer Ashley C. grabbing trophies in the Junior, Beginner, and Sport classes.
A TIP OF THE HELMET
A massive thanks to everyone who came out, and an even bigger one to the poor souls who stood in the freezing rain working the checks. You’re the real MVPs.
See you all at the Macho Man Enduro, where the terrain will be brutal, the competition fierce, and the excuses plentiful.
Club Dues are also Due!
See Mary at Signups to Pay
Questions, Comments, Concerns?
Email us at TWMCSecretary@gmail.com
Broken Resolutions Roll Charts and Route Sheets are Here!
Roll Chart
Route Sheet
Route Sheets and Roll Charts were updated 1/23 at 12:30. The old ones work just fine, especially if you are zapping your computer. You only need the updated Route Sheet if you are actually programming yourself. The change is at the end of the 3rd loop where the mileage at the Free Time should be 14.5 instead of 14.2.
Club Dues are also Due!
See Mary at Signups to Pay
Questions, Comments, Concerns?
Email us at TWMCSecretary@gmail.com
The 2025 Training Wheels MC Enduro Season kicks off
January 25-26
Broken Resolutions Enduro
Location: Hannah's Hole, Spangler OHV
35.457200,-117.641963
Saturday Events
Signups: 10:00 -12:00
Beginner/Sport: 2:00
Juniors: 1:00
Potluck: 5:30
General Meeting: 6:00
Potluck Theme:
Asher is providing PIZZA!
You Bring Sides, Salads, Deserts
Sunday Events
Signups: 7:30-8:30
Rider’s Meeting: 8:30
Key Time: 9:00
Want to join us or just have questions?
Email us at TWMCSecretary@gmail.com
Wheelie Good Stories
By Dieter Dirtflinger
January 2025
The New Bike (a.k.a. The Shiny Mistake)
So, I bought a new bike. Not because I needed it—oh no, far from it. My old bike? Perfect. A masterpiece. It was the kind of bike you’d write poetry about. It fit me like a well-worn pair of jeans that still had a couple of good years left. I’d spent countless hours and untold dollars bolting on every after-market gadget and doodad known to mankind. That bike wasn’t just mine—it was me. If you dropped me blindfolded onto that seat, I could still race through the desert like I had sonar.
But then I saw it: the new bike. Shiny, sleek, modern—a technological siren calling me to financial disaster. Now, I could tell you I bought it because I got a killer deal. My daughter works at the dealership, so yeah, there was a deal… but even with her discount, I spent more on this bike than I did on my first new car. That’s not hyperbole, folks—that’s math.
Let’s face it: I bought this bike for one reason and one reason only—I wanted it. Pure, uncut greed. I’m like a toddler in a toy store with the wallet of an adult. And here’s the kicker: nobody stopped me. No one said, “Hey, maybe think this through.” Nope. They just handed me the paperwork and sent me on my merry way. Honestly, there should be laws against this sort of thing. A pop quiz or a sobriety test before signing the paperwork. But no. Instead, I drove home with a bike that gleamed so brightly I had to wear sunglasses just to unload it.
Now, as any idiot who’s ever bought a new bike knows, the real spending starts once you park it in your garage. Turns out, I’m not shaped like the guy this bike was built for. I’m too tall, too heavy, and possibly the wrong species. So, the mods began. New springs to keep the fender from smacking the tire every time I sat down. Higher handlebars. A steering stabilizer (because why stop at handlebars when you can spend triple?). Lowered foot pegs so I could actually sit without my knees kissing my chin. And, of course, every guard and protector known to mankind—because this pristine machine must not be scratched, dinged, or sneezed on.
Finally, it was ready. I loaded it into the truck and drove out to the desert all the while staring at it in the rear-view mirror like a proud new dad. The maiden voyage was upon me. My riding buddies, seasoned hecklers, stood back and smirked as I fired it up. And then…
Disaster.
This beautiful, expensive marvel of modern engineering rode like a three-legged donkey on roller skates. It wouldn’t turn. It either knifed into the sand and flung me off, or bulldozed straight ahead like it had a mind of its own. The fancy suspension felt like it was filled with cement and rubber bands. The motor? About as responsive as a toaster with a clogged vent. The handlebars, which I’d agonized over, were somehow too high, too low, too forward, and too back—all at the same time.
By the end of the day, I was ready to push it off a cliff and call my old bike to apologize.
Then, on the drive home, it hit me: this is exactly how my old bike was when I first bought it. It was awkward, clunky, and borderline dangerous. I even tried to pawn it off on my kid before the suspension broke in and the motor finally woke up. It took hours of riding, tweaking, and cursing before that bike became the trusty steed I loved.
So now I’ve got hope—tempered by a healthy dose of buyer’s remorse—that this new bike will someday be worthy of the pedestal I’ve already put it on. Until then, I’ll keep riding, keep wrenching, and keep wondering why in the hell I didn’t just stick with what I had.
Sleigh Ride Results!
Rocks, Raffles, and Christmas Cheer: A Training Wheels Sleigh Ride Special
They say Santa Claus has a system: make a list, check it twice, then dole out the goods based on your deeds. Be nice, and you get a shiny toy. Be naughty, and it's coal—kind of useful if you're freezing your boots off but not exactly festive. For us at Training Wheels, though? Santa didn't play by the book this year. Instead of coal, toys, or even socks, he sent the Schulte crew. And what did they bring us? Rocks. Piles of 'em. Enough to make a geologist weep with joy or a dirt biker question every life decision.
Were we naughty? Nice? Or is this some kind of twisted Santa logic where rocks are considered "trail gold"? For us crusty old dirt bikers, it was like finding a fresh set of knobbies under the tree—a gift so perfect it almost made us tear up. Almost.
A Magical Saturday: Hot Cocoa, Raffle Prizes, and Maurice on the Mic
The weekend kicked off with a Saturday that can only be described as… well, a Christmas miracle. No wind. No rain. Just bright sunshine and temperatures that just begged you to twist the throttle. Once they pitched the big top, the Training Wheels crew turned the place into a scene straight out of a Hallmark movie—only with more two-stroke exhaust. The TWMC kids made homemade decorations, Santa himself made a cameo, and there was enough hot cocoa to make even the grumpiest rider crack a smile.
The potluck was a feast for the ages, with "roast beasts" of every variety and enough hearty salads to balance out the carb-loading. But the real showstopper was the raffle. With Maurice at the mic, over 130 prizes found new homes faster than a KX450 can eat a straightaway. Young Jack was the big winner, walking away with an eclectic haul that included everything from toys to skincare products—because apparently, even an 8-year-old needs to maintain that youthful glow.
As the raffle wrapped, the Training Wheels family gathered around the fire, swapping tall tales, poking fun, and soaking in the last perfect Saturday of the year.
Sunday: The Schulte Sleigh Ride of Doom
Sunday morning dawned, and with it came the real reason we were all there: the Sleigh Ride. This wasn’t your average holiday parade with waving Santas and candy canes. Nope. The Schultes had other plans. They carved out a course that would make a mountain goat reconsider its career choices.
The trails were a masterclass in suffering: rocks everywhere, gnarly climbs that laughed at many of us, and enough off-camber nastiness to send you into an existential crisis. And those “creative” checks? Let’s just say they were the dirt-biking equivalent of a pop quiz with trick questions.
But that’s what we’re here for, right? By the end of the day, bikes were bruised, bodies were battered, and grins stretched from ear to ear. Some riders clinched their season points, others learned valuable lessons about hydration and tire pressure, and all of us left knowing we’d just survived something truly epic.
Wrapping It Up
So, were we naughty or nice this year? Who cares? The Schulte crew and Santa brought us exactly what we wanted—even if it was disguised as punishment. Rocks or no rocks, it’s weekends like this that remind us why we saddle up every chance we get.
Here’s to another year of twisted trails, tough courses, and the Training Wheels family that makes it all worthwhile. And maybe next year, Santa will toss in a few extra ibuprofen with the rocks.
Wheelie Good Stories
By Dieter Dirtflinger
December 2024
The Squidfilter: Welcome to the Brotherhood of Bruised Ego and Mangled Clutch Levers
Ah, the joys of rekindling your love for dirt bikes after a "brief" hiatus—10 years spent raising kids, building a career, and softening your once ironclad posterior into something resembling oatmeal. But eventually, the call of two-stroke smoke and bruised ribs lures you back. That’s how I found myself saddled with a group of riders from the club. Good guys, but weird. Not in a "secret handshake and decoder ring" kind of way, but in an unspoken, slightly cultish manner.
The first ride with them? Let’s just say it was a baptism by roost.
We met at their regular stomping grounds, a patch of desert that could double as a lunar training base. I had my fair share of race credentials—hare and hounds, enduros, the usual—but these guys had home-field advantage. Still, I was confident. Then they fired up their bikes and disappeared into a cloud of dust.
I was left scrambling, lungs full of dirt, wondering if I had stumbled into some unspoken initiation ritual. They didn’t slow down; they didn’t check if I was still alive. They blasted through valleys, clawed up hills that might as well have had "Abandon Hope Ye Who Enter" signs, and tiptoed along goat trails that flirted with 500-foot death drops.
About three hours in, we arrived at a valley straight out of a sci-fi movie. Volcanoes loomed like judges, lava trails twisted in chaotic spaghetti patterns, and smack dab in the middle was The Hill. It was white, steep as your last tax bill, and topped with black basalt teeth.
The lead guy pointed his bike at the hill and twisted the throttle like a man possessed. I expected him to either die or ascend into heaven, but somehow he made it to the top. Then the next guy went. Same story. They looked like they’d been doing this since birth.
Finally, it was my turn. Before taking off, one guy casually mentioned there was an easier trail around the back. I could practically feel the neon “CHICKEN” sign hovering over the alternative route. I had come this far, so I figured if I was going to die, it might as well be in the name of proving a point.
Second gear, throttle open, eyes wide shut. I charged that hill like an idiot with a death wish. Up the incline, over the ledge—front wheel sky-high and heart somewhere in my throat—I landed it. Not gracefully, but I survived.
The reaction? Crickets. No high-fives, no "Attaboy!" Just a few nods between them like they’d confirmed I wasn’t completely useless. Then they fired up their bikes and tore off down the next trail like nothing had happened.
Back at camp, I felt... different. Like a slightly bent lever—nothing obvious, but noticeable. The guys were a little friendlier, a touch less cold. Later, I learned the truth.
They called it the Squidfilter. Every new guy had to pass through the same gauntlet of brutal terrain, soul-crushing hills, and mild humiliation. Some cracked halfway through. Some took the chicken route. A few passed the test. Apparently, I was one of the lucky ones.
As time went on, I became part of the inner circle. When new guys joined, we’d bring them to the same hill. It was a rite of passage, a litmus test for grit. Watching the fresh meat face The Hill became our entertainment.
Some called it sadistic. We called it tradition.
So here’s to the Squidfilter—a time-honored, dust-choked reminder that the only way into the club is over that ledge, through the pain, and straight into a lifetime of bent levers and bruised egos. Welcome to the brotherhood.
TWMC Sleigh Ride 2024
December 7-8
Hodge Road, Barstow
The First Present from Santa Schulte has arrived!
Get your Roll Charts and Route Sheets Below:
Route Sheet
Roll Chart
Roll Chart W/O Speeds
Hosted by the Schultes
Location Coordinates: 34.734737, -117.131738
Saturday: Christmas Tent!!!
Kid’s Crafts: 11:00 AM
Santa: 4:30 PM - If your child has been good this year, put a wrapped gift under the tree!
Table Decorating Contest: 20 Tables available. Decorate a table and enter the contest
TWMC Raffle: Bring a Raffle Item to the tent. Tickets are $1 Per ticket; $5 for 6 Tickets; or $20 for 25 Tickets.
Club Meeting
Saturday Rides
Junior Event: 1:00 PM
Beginner Event: 2:00 PM
Sunday Enduro
Rider’s Meeting: 8:30 AM
Key Time: 9:00 AM
The Lazy Turkey Results are in!
Click Here
Questions about results?
Email us at twmcsecratary@gmail.com
The 2024 Lazy Turkey Enduro is in the books, and let me tell you, the Lazy Turkey crew is about as “lazy” as a caffeinated jackrabbit with its tail on fire. Turkeys? Well, that might depend on whether you nailed your times or got stuck on one of them hills, but one thing’s for sure—they outdid themselves this weekend.
Saturday evening’s potluck wasn’t just dinner; it was a Thanksgiving-themed gorge-a-thon. The Turkey crew brought the meats and gravy, kept it piping hot, and saved the day for us stragglers who rolled in late after wrenching on bikes or telling tales in camp. The rest of the club stepped up with side dishes that would make a food critic weep with joy (or shame for eating their body weight in mashed potatoes).
Now, Saturday’s riding was a glorious throwback to old-school timekeeping for the Beginners and Sport classes. None of this “ride your own pace” fluff—nope, riders had to start watching their minutes. The learning curve was steep, but most riders got the hang of it pretty quickly. Jackson R made it look like he’d been born with a roll chart in his hand, staying tight on his minute and snagging 48 seconds, just a hair—7 seconds, to be exact—ahead of the fast-moving Parker R. Over in the Sport class, Steph Surmon handled the clock like a seasoned pro, gliding through the course like it was marked just for her.
Sunday, though, is where the Turkey crew really flexed their creative muscles. The first loop hit like a haunted house on wheels, with a blistering 21 mph average speed on the roll chart that made the Novices wish they’d stayed in bed. Thankfully, a couple of well-placed mileage resets gave everyone a chance to catch their breath (and get that second helping of mashed potatoes from Saturday night digested).
Then came the curveballs. The crew kept a couple of course sections completely under wraps until race day, and boy, did they deliver. First up: a nasty series of rocky step climbs and downhills so gnarly they could’ve been extras in an enduro horror movie. Just when you thought it couldn’t get worse, the Masters and Experts got treated to a special test that redefined the word “brutal.”
The Masters and Experts got to tackle this hidden beast, and it didn’t disappoint. Thomas Moore and Brett Ribeneck were the first through, riding like men possessed. Thomas edged out Brett for the overall win by a nail-biting 4 seconds. After that, it was carnage. Riders started bottlenecking at the first set of volcanic outcroppings, a climb that looked more suited to a mountain goat than a dirt bike. For the Experts, Bob Surmon was the fastest through the final section, but Jake Hoskins played the long game, riding the rest of the course cleaner to snag the Expert class win.
Meanwhile, the rest of the riders got to enjoy the show from the finish line, watching Masters and Experts crawl through the boulders and silently thanking their lucky stars they didn’t have to ride that last section. Robbie Butze was the only Amateur to stay on his minute all day for the win. Rick Samuelson cleaned up in Senior Expert, Brian Ribeneck snagged the Novice class win, and Super Senior bragging rights went to Stephan Butze.
In the end, the Lazy Turkey Enduro wasn’t just a race—it was a throwback, a feast, a test of skill, and a reminder that this sport is as much about grit as it is about glory. Hats off to the Bishop family for a job well done. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need a nap—and maybe a second helping of gravy.
Lazy Turkey Enduro!
Roll Charts and Route Sheets are in!
Route Sheet
Roll Chart
Roll Chart Without Speeds
Hosted by the Bishop Family
Date: November 16th & 17th
Location: Searles Station Road
35.4856937, -117.6229173
Potluck Theme: Gobble Gobble
The Bishops are providing the meat and gravy,
You bring a side or dessert!
Want to help with the Christmas events?
Christmas Planning Committee meeting at the Eberhardt’s trailer with Jeanne Saturday at 10 AM.
Email us at TWMCSecretary@gmail.com with any questions about this or other events.