2009 Tecate SCORE Baja 1000
Story by Charlene Bower and Jeff Knoll
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[ PHOTO GALLERY ]
Wrap Up Continued...
Friday morning, November 20th, the starting line was electrically charged. People were crowded around the trophy trucks and drivers, the engines started and they parted ways to let the monster powered vehicles push their way to the staging line. They inched closer and closer to the RedBull arches and the start of not just a race, but what is called an epic adventure that tests man and the machine through the toughest terrain south of the border.
In Baja EVERYONE comes out for the race. Even the schools are closed
I am never one to shy away from the action, so I set myself up inside the barriers to get pictures of the trucks coming off the line. Yes, this is the view, but maybe the real view isn't looking at the arch at all, but at the first turn into the crowd, and then down the subsequent street lined with cameras and videos. Every 30 seconds, common names pitched their trucks sideways, almost into the non-protective fence barriers, and then squealed around the corner. The race was on.
While the smack talking had been heavy between the three JeepSpeeds, the competitive friendship to get everyone off the line and to the finish line was still there. When the JeepSpeeds took the green flag, the crowds had thinned to almost nothing but they gave a show as well. The chase had started.
And the rhythm of the race begins...
I ran as fast as I could like a mule fully loaded with camera equipment to the parking lot where the satellite truck was. Just as I rounded the corner of the alley, there it went peeling out down the street...how could they miss that I wasn't in the truck? I stood like a little puppy in the middle of the street like I had just got left, and not more than 30 seconds later Mello's truck pulled up to sweep me off my feet. Phew! I jumped in. 1702 had already had problems, and was needing spark plugs delivered to RM3!
Lance and Knoll had the GPS figured out and were on the way. Mello's truck was struggling with turning on the GPS, finding the map and radios while trying to figure out where we were, much less where we needed to be. It was a rough start to the morning, but after an hour or so we all regrouped and got to see the race car cross the road and head down to the racecourse. We smiled, high fived, jumped back in the trucks and leapfrogged to the next stop.
Lighting is key in the wilds of Baja. You can never have too much light.
We saw the cars at a few different spots and replaced a driveshaft before heading to the satellite trucks main location for the majority of the race: RM 206 at the BFG Pit 2/4. We had tried to get there when it was still light out, but the darkness snuck up on us. We dove off the highway into the desert to work our way towards the pits. Camo had acquired us a spot right by the BFG trailer, but we still had to get there. There was mass chaos, trucks parked everywhere, huge cactus and desert trees in the path, but we made it and with only a few new scratches on the black truck that didn't sound like they could be buffed out. It was perfect. We pulled the truck up onto a slight mound at the nose of the BFG semi where I could kind of see the action, certainly hear the action, and be close enough to run back and forth between the laptop and the track. Engaging satellite.
The next few hours felt like Glamis at Thanksgiving before they closed Comp Hill at night. It was awesome! The dust was thick from the trucks coming through at race speed and no breeze to be felt. It was in the low 50's so campfires lined the course, and spectators crowded around any action that they could find. Pedro, one of the many spectators exclaimed, "This is the biggest night in Baja for us!" I could see why.
Some of the first trophy trucks coming through Borrego pit at RM400 at full tilt
Around 8:00pm, 1702 came in for a full pit where they fueled up, replaced a broken front axle and did a driver change. The crew at the BFG pit trailers never disappointed me. They are amazing to watch (and I watched them ALL night long!)
You Tube BFG Pit 2 Part 1: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O0CDkzBRtgE
You Tube BFG Pit 2 Part 2: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DlTIePkqFSo
BFGoodrich fueling 1702 at Borrego
Shaffer and Steve jumped out and Camo and Eric jumped in ready to take on the night shift down the San Felipe loop. Only a couple of hours behind schedule, Lance and Jeff Knoll tried to contain the excitement and take naps so they could take the car at an estimated 4am for the final stretch of the race. That worked until around 11:30pm when I woke up the two boys and sent them off on a journey with new spark plugs in hand. When they came back they tried to sleep again.
Finishing up the broken front axle replacement
While most were snuggled into their warm and cozy beds counting sugar plums I was trying to stay awake, upload photos, and keep track of the race car via race radios who was calling the race for the first time. Shaffer, Steve, Mello, Mark and the Texas boys chased 1702 through issues that plagued the car all night. Camo finally called it - terminal engine problem - time to limp it out and to recovery. It was around 3am. I didn't want to wake Lance and Jeff. It was like telling someone that their dog just died. It wasn't world turning, but it certainly affected all of our worlds. Lance got up to get more information, and Knoll moaned and went back under his covers in his hammock.
With Lance up I felt like I could shut my eyes for a few and got about an hour of sleep. Let's time stamp this for your appreciation: 3:30am. We had been up for about 20 hours at that point. But before I closed my eyes, we heard on the radio that 1702 was running again. They were on the course and were going for it! The race was not over yet!
At 9am, 13 hours after Camo and Eric had left the pit the night before they returned with the JeepSpeed. It was running, but like any Jeep Cherokee that had just been put through 400+ race miles, it had some wear and tear to it. Lance and Knoll were ready to take it to the home stretch, and 1701 was only two hours ahead of them. A win could happen! They changed another set of spark plugs and off they went. It was light out, no need for the clear visors that they had bought for their night run. All daylight.
You Tube BFG Pit 4 Part 1: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_UHyzXpoOOU
You Tube BFG Pit 4 Part 2: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q4cLMhB1VkM
Camo says, "I survived!"
As soon as they left, my stint at RM206 was complete, now we were chasing the car back up the course and to the finish line. We made it out to RM502, set up the satellite and who was there but Ivan Stewart preparing to get into his Toyota for the final leg. "I have been waiting two days now to get in," he said with a smile. I knew the feeling! We were working on 30 hours.
Then the call over the radio came in loud and clear: 1702 called the race for the second time. Lance had a broken transfer case, with no 4WD or fluid. All chase crews were to meet for recovery. "Run it!" we would say from the truck, but we didn't know how bad it was. I had pre-ran this section in the JK and knew there was no way out but forward, so they really had to keep going... and they did, and were soon back up to race speed. We were still in it! We adjusted our pit location to the first area where the car would come out, we gathered all the chase trucks on the east side of Baja to RM494 and laid out a workshop in the middle of a dirt patch.
Can you change a transfer case in 45 minutes? Team 1702 can...
If there was a turning point in a race, or in a group of people's lives, this is it right here. The car came down the hill and into the pit at speed. The crew was ready. They dove under the car to find a transfer case that was split in two like a pumpkin that had been thrown at the neighbor's house at Halloween. Not a drip of oil to be found. Legs were all you could see, voices needing tools and clanking of metal was all you could hear. Grinders were grinding, welders were welding, and air guns were gunning. It took forty-six minutes for the car to get a major overhaul and the boys peeled out and were back out on the course.
You Tube Transfer Case 1: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D2pdB9hMQ98
You Tube Transfer Case 2: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l9qJDfilfEA
You Tube Transfer Case 3: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q3Y8KnICa8o
You Tube Transfer Case 4: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O0afTEKZfjI
Yes, it was broken COMPLETELY in half. For 60 miles!
We would see them one more time for a NASCAR quick night time fuel splash before they made their way into town to the finish line. 1701 had already claimed the victory, 1749 had DNF'd hours before, and 1702 was still going for it against all the odds and pit closure times.
You Tube Last Pit: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EoKdKZ_z8ZM
The entire team of 17 had made it back to Ensenada. Camo had bought 40's and the group stood by smiling and telling stories at the dirt mound while waiting for 1702 to make the corner. At a few minutes before 9pm, the group hooped and hollered as 1702 finished the 2009 Baja 1000. Ok, so maybe it wasn't done within the 31 allotted hours, but dang it they finished! Beer spray is a sweet, sweet smell of victory!
You Tube Finish Line: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IN1ogOLgtfg
You Tube Finish Line Chatter: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dJJauEUW-PE
Lance and Jeff enjoy a finish line celebration
Thirty nine hours awake is about where we were at this point. A few had no sleep, others got a cat nap here or there, others snuck away for more. Regardless, everyone was still smiling! We took the car back to the parking lot where it all started from, and headed straight for some real food. The beers were cold, the burritos were yummy and the stories will not be forgotten. Seventeen individuals sat around the table. Most didn't know each other 72 hours before, and now within the last 40, they shared one of the most amazing experiences and bonds that any group could: The success of a Baja 1000.
I can guarantee you no one had a problem sleeping that night. The bigger issue was waking up the next morning to head back to the United States of America on Sunday, November 22nd ~ 9 days after we started this amazing adventure. At the end of my trips, I always ask myself if I could stay another day, or if I am just ready to go home. This is one where I could probably have stayed one more day. It was a trip for the record books!
Even Tiajuana border vendors love steekers!
For even more details and pictures, be sure to visit our day-by-day coverage.
The following is Jeff's account of his week in Baja co-driving with Lance Clifford.
ENDURANCE
By Jeff Knoll
"God does not shield us from the battle, he fights it with us. He wishes us to be heroic, not faint hearted and unmanly; and we become heroes by battle, not by flight or shielding. If God carried us from fields always we would soon learn to be cowards."
Sister Devamata
The tone of the Riviera Cultural Center bell resonated above the noise of the thousands of spectators on the streets of Ensenada waiting for the beginning of the forty-second SCORE Baja 1000. With each of the 10 beats of the giant bell, an image flashed before my eyes from the week in Baja. In my head, I could hear the first cords of AC/ DC's "Hells Bells". The sight of an eight hundred horsepower SCORE Trophy truck making its way to the start literally gave me goose bumps. This was the real deal. All week we had just been having fun, not a care in the world, but like a ton of bricks the realization hit me that I would be racing in the SCORE Baja 1000.
This is the real deal, everything else is Busch League. Sure, I have raced the Best in the Desert Vegas to Reno one thousand mile race, but this is the race any off-road enthusiast dreams of, this is a race that children lay in bed and dream of. This is "THE" off-road race. I stood there by myself at the starting line taking it all in. I could see friends and colleagues, shaking hands and hugging at the starting line as they prepared; I saw drivers doing interviews, and I saw some of the King of the Hammers sponsors and drivers. One asked what I was doing standing there in the crowd and why I had not come across the gate to do interviews and participate in the circus of media. I simply replied I was right where I needed to be, taking it all in, the smell of race gas, and open beers. I could hear the sound of Mexican and American spectators anticipating the start of this iconic motorsports event. The feel of the cool onshore breeze from the Pacific Ocean on my face, the massive crowd pushing their bodies toward the starting line and first turn brought me back to reality.
In the background, I could see the giant Mexican flag slightly erect and proud. This was an event that Baja lives for. The schools are closed, the shop keepers stand at the front door, the people go out into the desert and camp. For the next 36 hours, Baja will be all about off-road racing. The teams will live on the razor's edge and leave nothing on the table. This is what we live for.
It all started in the 1970's for me, the love affair with the desert. My Dad introduced us to off-road by taking us to motorcycle races like the Barstow to Vegas race, and other AMA events. Soon thereafter, we began spending most every holiday and sometimes as many as two weekends a month in Glamis when he married Chuck Boardman's step-daughter. My brother and I worked the gas pumps at Boardmanville Trading Post every holiday, and for the work we had a chance to drive the many toys he kept in Glamis. By the time I was ten years old, I was ripping the dunes in my car of choice, an early sixties VW Micro bus with paddle tires, no glass, doors or seats, and a big motor. It must have been a sight to see a kid popping wheelies in a VW bus.
Baja racers, the Holy Grail;
I remember the sound of the 55 Chevy sedan as they pulled it into the trailer. We had just prepped our bikes for another trip to Glamis and we were excited about going when we heard the engine fire a couple house away. We jumped on our bikes and pedaled down to see what we thought would be a sand rail. It was not. It was a Baja racer. The driver had on a BFGoodrich ball cap, and the car had numbers on it. Sponsors' stickers all down the side told us this was a race car. The driver walked over and told us they were headed to race the Baja 1000. That was around 1980, and marked the beginning of my quest to race in Mexico.
"Without struggle we cannot gain endurance, and endurance is a measure of our strength."
"Dust ahead! Be careful Lance, could be oncoming traffic," as we rounded the corner on the road to Mike's Sky Ranch, there it was, a white Jeep TJ and we could see the sheer terror in the eyes of its passengers as we came at them in a full drift on the gas. 1702 was behind schedule and we would fight this situation for the rest of the day. Countless times we will nearly hit oncoming traffic, and even a cement truck, on the race course. We pray that we can get into the rough sections so we won't see a high speed collision. Past Mike's Sky Ranch, the road turns really rough; we speed forward like a bullet and make ground on the 1701. It's down to two teams now as the Cook team never finished the San Felipe Loop.
All night our team worked to get the car to us, and the weight of the team falls on our shoulders, we must make time up and push the 1702 past its comfort zone. The Mike's loop seemed so much longer in the pre-run, but we cleaned it, or so we thought. We both felt it in our feet in an instant and knew we had an issue in the front drive shaft. Should we stop? We had a chase truck in less than ten miles waiting for us, Chase Three, and they had everything to fix the shaft, let's slow down and keep moving, it will be faster than getting out. When we rounded the corner we knew we needed four wheel drive so Lance eased it back in, and BAM! It was like someone took a 5 gallon metal bucket filled it with rocks and started shaking it. I jumped out crawled under expecting to see a broken front shaft, what I found was a transfer case broken in two. Literally the case was split in two pieces.
Chase Three made its way to us just as we suited up and decided to see if it would move, it did, and for sixty miles, somehow, the transfer case worked without a drop of oil, and completely broken open. Somehow we made it to the crew at Valle De Trinidad, and a brand new transfer case. Forty-two minutes, that's all you need to change a 231 transfer case. The Pirate crew knew we would be short on time; they worked their magic, now we had to. Like ants on a picnic, the crew swapped the case and sent us on its way. Lance cracked through the intercom, "Jefe we are about to get Medieval on this shit, you down?" "Leave nothing on the table Lance, put us on the razors edge!" and so it began, the most intense racing I have ever done. Driver and navigator in perfect harmony, every turn a joint effort, every straight called to the foot, every hazard down to the last second. I cannot tell you very much about the sun dipping into the Pacific Ocean, or the fans along the race course. I can only tell of the sheer determination in our will to make check point five. There was no time for fear, no time for second guesses, just the moment, and its challenge: to beat the clock.
With fifteen minutes to spare, we had made check point five, but check six was over a hundred miles away and we had two hours to get there. The silt of Uruapan lay ahead of us, the eye of the storm, and the heart of battle. At times I asked why I would do this to myself. Doubt started to creep in, this was not fun. Uruapan was a disaster of a race course. The toll of a week of pre-running and the struggle of racers trying to just make it through destroyed the road. Now we did so with no time on the clock, we had no choice but to drive over our heads and throw ourselves into harm's way. How a car built for soccer moms could handle the abuse, I will never know. The roof was even flexing as we beat our way through. At times I thought that the front axle would just break off and spin under the car, I waited for its failure, but it never came, we pushed on at a speed I could not imagine possible, and we broke through. Tinted lenses distorted our view, but helped our resolve to make it to the next pit.
Check point six was about 5 miles ahead when I heard an unfamiliar voice calling on the radio for the 1702 race car. It was clear and had very good power, but it was not our team. I looked at the clock on the GPS, and we had come up short of Check point 6. It called again…… I thought of what we had gone through to get there, and the determination of the entire team. I knew who it was; I knew what they wanted to say to us. A third time they called for us….. I cannot do it, I cannot admit defeat, I cannot lie down, and I cannot allow us to fail. A last time they called and I pretended I did not hear it, I continued calling corners and ignored the request we answer. It stopped and I put it behind us, we pressed on, we would not stop we would not admit defeat. Baja will not beat us! We blew through what had been check point six without stopping we had gone rogue, and now we were on our own.
Lance and Jeff blazing through the frigid desert night
The cry of the crew across the radio told us they were ready for whatever we needed. It lifted our spirits, and I let it sink in that we would finish a 33 hour test of our will and strength. The last miles of the forty-second Baja One Thousand were not glamorous. Course markers had been removed, it was dark, and the Policia did not want us on course, but we pushed forward. I could barely talk, I could not tell left from right, or were we had come from. Eleven hours of focus on a GPS screen rendered me incapable of knowing which way was up. Locals helped us find the race course a couple of times, but we got lost so many times its amazing we found what was left of the finish line. When we did make our way on to the dirt mound, a shower of beer washed the dirt from my eyes. I bathed in its glory, and just like the start of the race, I took it all in. Thirty years of dreams came to this moment. It will bring a tear to my eyes when I remember the struggle, and the challenge it was all my life. When I can no longer drive, I will remember the perfect connection we had on the side of a cliff, railing a race car on a mountain road, and the glory I felt in a team who never gave up, and finished the Baja 1000.
Thank you to Motive Gear, Ten Factory and Torchmate for supporting Pirate4x4's coverage of the 2009 Baja 1000. If you liked this coverage...please let these sponsors know!
Video Assistance from Jeff Knoll, Josh England, Lance Clifford, Mark Harris
The 1702 Torchmate, Pirate4x4, Shaffer's Offroad Race Team:
Leg One: Mike Shaffer , co-driver Steve
Leg Two: Camo, co-driver Eric Morales
Leg Three: Lance Clifford, co-driver Jeff Knoll
Chase Truck 1 (satellite truck): Lance, Jeff Knoll, Charlene
Chase Camo: Camo, Eric Morales
Chase JK: Mike Shaffer, Steve
Chase Truck 2: Shawn & Andy
Chase Truck 3: Josh & Adam
Chase Truck 4: John Cox, Matt Howell, Ben Holliday
Chase Truck 7: Jeff Mello, Mark Harris, Cousin Randy
1701 Eric Filar, Lake Elsinore, Calif., Jeep Cherokee
1702 Mike Shaffer, Dayton, Nev./Lance Clifford, Georgetown, Calif., Jeep Cherokee
1749 Justin Cook, Albion, Calif./Cliff Cook, Shingle Spring, Calif., Jeep Cherokee
1702's sponsors:
Torchmate
Pirate4x4.com
Shaffer's Offroad
BFGoodrich Tires
J&W Auto Wreckers
Rubicon Express
CTM Racing
Motive Gear
Radflo Shocks
Spider Trax
Douglas Machine
PSC Steering
Staun Beadlocks
Rusty's Offroad
Titan Engines
Twisted Stitch
JE Reel
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