Round 5: This is Racing

September 30, 2025

2025 MRA Wrecking Crew, MRA Round 5, PPIR, September 2025

Before I get going, I just want to say that both my love of racing and this community keep me coming back. I’m glad to see that fences have been mended and that we’re firing on all cylinders again. I can’t wait to come back for more in 2026. Without further adieu, let’s dive in.

As every club racer knows, racing often starts days, weeks, or even months before you enter the grid. In my case, as soon as Round 4 was over I knew I needed to get back on the track as soon as possible. I was holding on to some very positive signs of improvement and the thought of a third consecutive year without quantifiable growth was too much to stomach. As ever, the logistics were going to be difficult. Kori had a much deserved vacation on the books and my boys are still too young to be left alone in the paddock while I’m racing, so I reached out to their favorite childcare provider to see if some professional help was possible. After some polite negotiation on my end regarding the details of raceday childcare (business opportunity?), I was able to get a commitment from Beckie that would allow me to race. There would be no track time before raceday warmup, and I’d have to camp at the track with the boys but, to me, it was worth it. With childcare covered I thought the largest hurdle had been cleared, but life had other plans. Of all the time throughout the year for the truck to be finicky, the Chevy started giving me problems a couple of weeks before the race. I worked my way through the cryptic ECU warning messages on my own without much luck and the timing of repairs started to look dire. As of the Monday before Round 5, I’d replaced 2 NOx sensors, serviced the DEF system and, because when it rains it pours, carved out time for an overdue oil change. My hard work was rewarded when the ECU decided I’d still not done enough and initiated a mileage countdown until a 5 MPH limp mode. No bueno. The ECU firewall being what it is, I needed to go to a shop that could fully access the the truck’s brain to figure out what was going on. Unfortunately, GM diesels seem to be having lots of issues right now, so every dealer I called estimated a 2-3 week turnaround time. That wasn’t going to work. I started forming redundancies to get the trailer and gear to the track in the event that I could not use my truck. Things were still possible, but given the magnitude of first-time camping with my kids combined with everything I would need to run my race program, not having MY truck would make things tough. To complicate things, I’d been burning the candle at both ends trying to care for my kids while getting everything ready for a race weekend and my fatigue was starting to build. The trend of things was starting to have a familiar stench. I decided to take one last chance and gamble on a shop called Performance Wise where I’ve had the truck emissions certified a few times. If this didn’t work and the truck wasn’t fixed, nor the bike or camping provisions ready in time for me to get atleast one full night’s sleep before we had to disembark, I was going to call it off. As luck would have it, they were able to fit me in on short notice. When I dropped the truck off I was pleasantly surprised to run into our old MRA friend, Jared Dear who, to my surprise, works at Performance Wise. I’m not a big believer in omens, but I certainly had a good feeling about things after taking a few minutes to catch up with Mr. Dear. After some carseat shuffling, morning routines, kid dropoffs, and Uber taxiing, the truck was finally in the hands of someone with full ECU access as I continued to chip away on other preparations. Much to my surprise, the phone rang just a few hours after dropping off the Chevy. After a simple sensor reset, the truck was good to go. Hot damn!! It was time to kick the rest of our preparations into overdrive; Round 5 was going down!

It was now the Wednesday before Round 5. True to my typical luck of feast or famine, in addition to truck problems and camping provisions being on my plate, Duc Prime’s fork seals had started leaking at a concerning rate. Had Round 5 been at HPR, I’d simply have topped off the fork fluid and sent it, but you do NOT mess around with potentially faulty forks at PPIR unless you’re willing to eat shit in turns 1, 2, or 7, all remiss with substantial undulations that will challenge even an Ohlins-equipped bike.

PPIR Track Map, September 2025

Luckily, Denver is home to a handful of locations to source Ducati parts. Since I already had some OSET bits and pieces on order from Erico for my son’s dirtbike, I simply added some fork seals and Ohlins shock fluid to the tab. At this point, every hour of the day was important, so it was nice to have a shop nearby with everything I needed. Another night of Dad duty followed by late night Round 5 prep ensued. At this point, I’ve replaced quite a few fork seals so the task was a known quantity with an acceptable time risk, but, if ANYTHING else went wrong, Round 5 would be in serious jeopardy. Everything had to go right from here on out which basically never happens.

R&R Fork Seals, Miller Garage, September 2025

With the forks sorted late Wednesday night, I thought that all the mechanical bugs were handled but, of course they weren’t because, why would they be? The next evening, as I was getting ready to start gathering my gear up, another poo-filled bag was lit on fire and left on my porch, this time by the trailer. The fenders had gotten floppier than Dumbo’s ears and were primed to take flight the next time they saw a highway. “You gotta be shitin’ me”, I thought as Thursday night set in. I wasn’t going to let trailer fenders derail my weekend, though. At this point, I was up to my eyeballs in commitment to the Round 5 endeavor so, rather than trying to fix them, I simply ripped them off, cut the section of the harness going to the fender lights, taped up the dangling wires and called that situation temporarily solved. I’ll circle back on the trailer situation this winter.

Trailer Gross but Sorted, Miller Garage, September 2025

Man, that trailer is an embarassment… yuck!! Anyway, through dogged determination, I’d survived solo parenting for more than a week, taken care of the mandatory house and family chores, gotten boys to school on time every day, Emerson to baseball practice twice, cooked every meal, scrubbed every dish, folded every article of clothing, performed every daily routine, facilitated every block of playtime, arranged one special parent teacher conference and, unfortunately, missed another. Not totally flawless execution at home, but still pretty damn good. All that is usually enough to wear me out on its own. Additionally, I’d fixed the truck, motorcycle, and trailer, scraped together the usual smattering of racing gear, and somehow cobbled enough camping supplies together to feel alright about camping with the boys for the first time ever. What the hell was I doing? These are the actions of someone who really loves racing. Knowing myself as I do, I can say that it’s almost something I need to do for reasons I still can’t fully explain.

Camping Collage, Miller House, September 2025

Finally packed and ready to go, I went to bed late Friday night completely gassed. Now it was time to sleep as much as possible so that I could make it to the track, set up camp, and get enough rest to race safely on Sunday.

Saturday’s commute with the boys down to PPIR gave me some time to recharge a bit. There was no need to rush anymore, I just needed to get there with enough time to set up camp and get the boys to bed. We arrived with time to spare and the boys had plenty of time to wander around the paddock, ride their bikes, get some dinner, watch me get the bike tech’d, and ride their bikes some more while I set up the mobile canvas hotel masquerading as a tent. It seemed like the boys were having a good time even if they were being a little rambunctious. Par for the course to be honest, though.

Dinner Time, PPIR, September 2025

After contending with “silly hour”, where the boys’ behavior gets exponentially worse by the minute as bedtime approaches, I finally got the little gremlins down for bed, set up the monitor to keep an eye on them, and did my last minute prep work to get everything moved over to the garage I was sharing with Everett. All ready to go, I finally got to bed at a reasonable hour and crashed the hell out as soon as my head hit the pillow.

Ready for Action, PPIR Garages, September 2025

In an act of grace, the boys slept through the night with narry a sound, allowed me to get a full 8 hours, and we all woke at our usual morning owl time of around 6:30 AM refreshed and ready to go. I got the boys ready, we ate, and I started to get myself ready for racing. Luckily, Beckie arrived a smidge ahead of schedule. When she took over childcare duties, the moment I handed the boys off I realized that my nervous system had been on overdrive for more than a week. There was nothing left looming overhead other than getting out on the track and hauling ass. On the stress scale, racing motorcycles is a cakewalk when held against stay-at-home parenting.

After the standard final rituals I was finally out on the racetrack again. During the warmup session things were a smidge stiff, but some decent speed was there right away. On lap 3, I was within a few seconds of my PB and I was feeling good. In my second warmup session of the day, also known as Middleweight Supersport Endurance (MWSS 2x), I was relegated to P8 on the grid; fine by me, I just wanted to ride. Red lights on, deep breath, lights out, and away we go.

My start was phenomenal and I whipped through turns 1 and 2 with full trust in the bike and tires. By the time we made it to the infield section, I’d somehow weaseled my way into P2. My thirst for a podium became dominant and my plans to take it easy and pit after a few laps took a back seat.

“That boi was feeling the spirit” -Ronald Wyndon, MWSS 2x, MRA Round 5, PPIR, September 2025 [Photo by McClaine Media]

For a hot minute I kept Salvatore Risso in view, but his pace was ultimately too hot to match. As I tried to stay in touch, a huge tankslapper on the exit of 4 warned me to take it easy on the rear tire which was one of a pair of takeoffs I was still running from Round 4. A lap or two later I surrendered P2 on the entry of turn 3 to Mika Davies. I stayed in reasonably good touch for a bit, but eventually lost out on that position as well. That rear tire was really starting to slide around alot on the exits of 3 and 7. My last concession was the final podium spot taken by Orkun Krand as we entered the infield together somewhere around half race distance. I switched to an earlier entry on 3 and 7 with lighter throttle application on corner exit to preserve that rear without losing too much time; more reliance on edge grip and less reliance on the drive part of the tire to make it through the corners quickly. My strategy paid off as I started to close back in on the final few laps. On the final time of asking I took out significant chunks of space on the entries of 3 and 4 and, on the drive to 5, the distance was down to a handful of bike lengths. I was salivating at the mouth for the first podium I’d had in a few years and did everything I could to turn it into a final drag race to the line. In the end, however, it wasn’t enough and I spun up the rear on the exit of 7 as I watched Orkun streak away and defend the final podium spot by 0.775s; P4 it was. I couldn’t be disappointed, though. This was the first time I’d done consecutive race rounds since 2022, the first time I’d been back to PPIR since 2022, and I’d just gone from P8 to P2 and held on to P4 across the line in an endurance race I had no business finishing to begin with. To top it off, I’d just bested my PB by 2 full seconds on a roasted rear tire. I finally had the quantifiable proof I’d been seeking that I’ve improved as a rider. I was elated and eager to see what I could do on fresh rubber. After a quick laugh with Kevin Caputo about the “egg” shape of my scorched rear, I pulled off the back wheel and hustled over to my friends under the Longmont Tire tent to get some fresh Pirelli goodness. They ran the tire back over to me in no time at all and made a run in Middleweight Supersport (MWSS) feasible. I got everything back together with enough time on the warmers to feel okay about gridding up, so it was on to the next race of the day.

This time, I had an even taller mountain to climb, as I was starting from P10. I was eager to accept the challenge, though, and took my spot on the grid with a smile on my face. Lights out and another great start that immediately took me past a few riders. That fresh rear was a boon and I took full advantage as I jetted around another rider on the outside of turns 1 and 2. I was finally consistently marrying my signature hard braking to my newfound cornering speed and took 2 more riders on the entry of 3 with a brave braking marker. By the time we settled into the infield, I realized that I’d never felt so good on Duc Prime; it was a legitimate flow state moment. Things were clicking beautifully and it seemed like everyone in front of me was getting bigger through my Shoei visor. Goooooooo!!!

Feeling Good, MWSS, MRA Round 5, PPIR, September 2025 [Photo by Kelly Vernell]

Through the infield I closed onto the back of the front group and thought about the next best place to make another pass. With rear grip available again, I ran my memorial line on the exit of 7 right up toward the wall and made another pass to take P5 from Mika Davies while immediately closing up on the tail of P4 on the entry of 1. I was flying. Now, if you’ve seen the video, you already know what happens next, but for those who haven’t, I’ll elaborate a bit. I’ve taken turn 1 at PPIR hundreds of times and settled into a line that suits me. This time, however, I was entering just a hair wider than I usually do to lock in P5 and set up for continuing a charge around the outside of turns 1 and 2 to see if I could take another spot or two before the infield. The physics of the situation are simple: I asked too much of the front tire and, just like that, she washed out on me.

Damnit!, MWSS, MRA Round 5, PPIR, September 2025 [Video Shot from Mika Davies]

My instincts took over and I stabilized myself to avoid tumbling. As I slid to a stop I was immediately angry with myself for chucking it down the road and equally disappointed that I didn’t get a chance to see where I stacked up in that race. I had been feeling soooo good. After I took a seat on the banking to regain my composure I accepted the situation and simply muttered to myself, “this is racing”. One minute you’re flying and the next you’re on the ground. It happens to all of us.

Round 5 Carnage, Miller Garage, September 2025

All said and done, the bike is going to need some love, but seems salvageable, all the gear I was wearing is toast, the DAQ box and camera are both smashed to pieces but, on a positive note I came out mostly unscathed. As far as crashes go it was not that bad. It’s now been a week and change since I took my tumble and I’ve had ample time to replay it in my head. The recurring feeling I have about it is that I’m salty I didn’t get to finish the race. I was having loads of fun and was feeling incredibly good on the bike. But again, this is racing. Going into the winter break, I choose to remember that flow state feeling of flying with ease instead of fixating on the crash. I will heal up, fix the bike, replace my totaled gear, and get back out on that track again next season. I’ll see ya’ll next year and, until next time: Never lift!!!!!!

2025 Supporters