JASON THOMAS - 'THE HARD WAY' - PART 2
28th May 2013
Welcome y’all to another edition of “The Hard Way”.
Ok, so as I said last time, after all the kaos of figuring out where my life was going I got a text from the 2012 National Enduro champ, and my GNCC XC2 championship rival Stewart Baylor, who invited me down to their place in South Carolina. I jumped in the van and hauled it south to the Baylor compound.
So, picture turning off the main road, onto gravel, and then following that way back into the woods until it dead ends at a gang of chickens, a big barn, and the odd bike stand laying around – you have reached the Baylor crib. I often wonder what kind of places other people live and this was like something out of Deliverance, only thing missing was the pig……. or was that about to be me?
Then out of the barn came that sweet southern “holla” from momma Baylor welcoming me into their home (that’s right, the barn!), and letting me know the boys were out riding. It’s pretty amazing that we as racers spend almost every weekend around each other but don’t really know anything about each other, and also having spent the last few years being in a battle at the race track with this family, they gladly welcome me into their home!
In my opinion this family is a true example of what this sport needs, a family who spend everyday of their lives working towards the same goal, not trying to act like something they’re not, or “buying” their way in and trying to kid people into thinking they have money. They’re just 100% focused on riding and racing dirt bikes and becoming the best at it, and most of all doing it as a family for each other.
Seeing them all pull together, and all be happy doing it, reminds me of the days my dad, my sister, and I would go racing in our old lorry back in the UK. We would load up on a Friday and set off on our weekend adventures and really it wasn’t about the results or if we were going to make any money doing it – it was just about spending time with the people we loved and having fun, and boy we had some great fun, and even more memories.
I’ll never forget going to a National one weekend. The 3 of us, we parked up with our friends and set up ready to camp as it was a 2-day event. On the first day I had some pretty strong moto finishes and that night the organizers were holding a race for all of the dads. Of course everyone started talking about how good their dad was, and how he was going to win etc. Our dads all got ready for the race and my old man, “Jezzabulb”, wanted to use my boots and helmet as we were the same size. No problem, we got him geared up and off he went to the start.
The gate dropped and poor old Jezzabulb, riding a TTR 125, was at the back of the pack eating dust. As it turned out none of the dads had much style, and it was pretty funny to watch them snail around. As the race went on the old men were starting to get tired, but still thought they could rip…….. especially old Jezzabulb. Anyway, sure enough the next thing the old boy was on his head and it was all that me and my mates could do not to pee our pants! Everyone was laughing because it was such a slow speed crash in a little rut, and Jezz was stuck under the bike.
After that going on for a while of my old man laying on the ground, a few people ran over to help my dad out……. and then more, and then more, until the ambulance was called. My friends and I ran over only to see my dad’s leg facing the other way. It was snapped like a carrot and he started to scream. The paramedics wanted to cut my brand new Tech 8 boots of my dad, but even in that much pain, and with the leg inside the boot snapped he said no. Why you ask? Well a pair of Tech 8 boots cost about 200 quid ($500) – they weren’t free and we didn’t have enough money for another pair, plus my dad insisted I ride the second day.
I guess what I’m getting at with this is that, even in a ton of pain, my dad’s only thoughts were to save the boot so I could ride the second day. His actions made me even more determined to do good, even under the stress of knowing my dad was in hospital. We were a team and our only goal was to do good, and I see this with the Baylor family.
Stew’s messed up wrist still has not healed so he was unable to rip with us, but his little BIG brother Grant was out shredding. I got to spend a couple of days roosting with him, and the kid is being developed into a champion. I’m pumped to hear he will be lined up next to me this year and can’t wait to bang bars with him. He got a little taste of that when he suggested a “take out” moto, where I went on to nicely clean his clock, and snap his fork guard at the same time, ha, ha! You’re with the men now Granto’s!!!!
Back in the barn at night after a hard day we hung out in the workshop portion, which to a privateer like myself looked like Santas grotto. They have goodies everywhere in there, and even more stuff that they have just pretty much ridden with until it fell off them, or the bikes.
I had an awesome week with them and can’t thank them enough for making me feel welcome and part of the family.
In the next article I’ll give you the run down on what it’s like to get whipped, slapped, and all round beat up at the Sumter hare scramble…….
Until then believe in yourself and trust everything happens for a reason.
Boom, boom, POW!
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