My breath was short, my body completely relaxed, my mind was screaming, the handlebars of my motorcycle I still gripped and the throttle I kept as wipe open as possible. I felt dull and tired as the onset of hypothermic conditions were creeping in. I was 18 hours into what would be a 22 hour 1000 mile race. The faster I went, meant the faster I would finish.
I had miscalculated the temperature and It was below freezing on top of that mountain in the middle of the Mexican Baja Peninsula desert around midnight. I opted for my vest that night and started the final 200 miles of the Baja 1000, moving fast, hot and sweaty. The terrain is the roughest imaginable, trying to explain it does no justice. I arrived at the last pitstop for the next 100 miles, I refueled only and I continued on up the mountain, only my vest and physical exertion as warmth. The sweat cooled, the temperature plummeted. Every mile got colder. The mind and body challenged, sleep deprived, fatigued and in a battle, myself against the Baja Peninsula. It was the last round of the proverbial matchup and only one of us could be victorious. It is here where you go deep into your mind, the darkest hour, a psychedelic experience sans the ayahuasca. A place you promise yourself never to return. The hours slip by and eventually the glow of Ensenada city emerges. The blackness of the pacific ocean behind it. The darkness in your mind subsides and relief wraps around you like a warm blanket. The crossing of the finish line is the ringing of the bell. The fight is over and the struggle and darkness are but a distant memory. Can’t wait for next year I say to the crowd… I probably meant it too. A handshake, a finishers medal, celebratory beer with my teammates and the satisfaction of knowing we did it. 2nd place Pro Motorcycle - 2022 Baja 1000.