Ridin' Dirty (Beautifully Dirty #2) (13 page)

Packing for us riders only includes our clothes for before and after the races, because we have people that take care of our gear and make sure it’s on the tractor-trailers. There are usually two tractor-trailers that go with the factory teams. One has the bikes in it, and the other is called the hospitality truck. That one has all the tables and chairs, grill, food and extras that go to the races every weekend. Both trucks have awnings that extend off the sides to make a large tent for us to be under and out of the sun. There could be anywhere from twenty to thirty people under one, at any given time, during a race. The inside of these trucks is like nothing you’ve ever seen before. Most of them have an upstairs in them, where we can go relax. The lounge area has a small couch, chair and large TV’s that hang on the wall for us to review our practices and other footage on our races, to see where we can improve. Team meetings are held there as well. There is also a bathroom, along with a stand up shower for the team to use. There are definitely perks to being on a factory team, besides the pay, that’s for sure.

I board the plane to first class and sit next to Jesse. We talk the entire time about competition this year and the press conference coming up tomorrow. Once we land, the team manager is there, waiting for us. We all head over to the hotel to check in.

“I’m going to change and head to the pool,” Jesse says, as he takes his key card off the counter, throwing his duffle bag over his shoulder.

“Sounds like a plan.”

Our rooms are down the hall from each other, so we head to the elevators at the same time. We are informed by our manager to be ready for dinner at seven, down in the lobby. We’ll be heading to the local steak house.

Once I change into my
FOX
board shorts, I head out to the pool, grabbing a water along the way. There would be no drinking until after the race. Walking out, my eyes light up with the options that lie before me. Even though I am trying to be good, I’m not blind, so I will continue to enjoy the view at least.

“I’m assuming you are not disappointed,” Jesse says, slapping me on the back as he keeps walking.

“Nope, not at all,” I say, following him to a couple chairs. But these aren’t just any chairs, they are in front of a tripped out cabana. Inside it has a couch, chair and table, as well as a TV, stereo system, and a refrigerator that is stocked with waters.

“This is pretty awesome, you pick up the tab on this?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? No, the team did though.”

“Well, I will enjoy it then, right after I take a quick dip. This sun is blistering today. ”

“I’m with ya on that one; here’s to hoping it’s not like this on Saturday,” he says, holding up his bottle of water to me.

I walk out of the tent and over to the pool. Walking down the stairs, I dive under, coming up right in front of a long legged hottie. There is some small talk exchanged between us before we both get out, and I make my way over to our hot spot. She struts over to the lounge chairs that are in the sun. I fully enjoy the view as she walks in front of me. The tiny bottoms she’s wearing fit her little ass perfectly, as far as I am concerned.

We spend most of the afternoon there, until about five when I decide it’s time to head up for a shower before dinner. Jumping in and out of the shower, I have a half hour before I need to be downstairs. Checking my messages, I find one from Ansley, and two from Ryan.

Ansley
—Coop, I just want to tell you good luck this weekend. I’ll be there working but watching as well. We still need to talk soon. XOXO.

Ryan
—Hey, Dickhead, try and stay out of trouble this weekend.

Ryan
—And I forgot . . . watch out for my roost. Lol

I laugh at his last comment, because I knew what he was saying, I’d be behind him so the dirt will be flying at me.

Me
—Ansley, thanks so much, Beautiful. And yes we do, maybe once things settle down a bit.

I put a smiley on my face after my message to her before hitting send. Then I reply to Ryan’s.

Me
–Hey, Jackass, how can I be watching your roost when I’ll be in front of you? Lol

Ryan
—We shall see huh pretty boy? Lol

Me—
Bring it. Lol

Ryan
—Oh, I will. Lol

Press day goes well; Ryan and I are on opposite ends of the table. We do get asked how it’s going to be racing against each other as childhood best friends. I tell them, “Once I hit the track, it’s every man for himself; friendship or no friendship, I’m here to win, and that’s it.” He answers the question by saying he wants the number one plate this year, and he won’t settle for less. We know that racing is racing, what happens on the track, stays there, we don’t take it personally. So, come race day, it’s full throttle ahead.

RACE DAY IS CRAZY.
We arrive at the track around ten a.m. Saturday, qualifying practice starts at eleven. So before then, we’ll all sit down and have a team meeting. We’re told what’s expected of us today. I’m told they would like to see me in the top ten for my first race. Little do they know, top ten is not good enough for me. I want the podium; standing on that box will make me happy, nothing less.

As I sit under our tent, I get a clear shot of the Hyped Energy girls . . .
lucky me.
I put in my Beats and hit play;
Crank It Up
by Colt Ford comes on. I tip my head back, closing my eyes, letting my mind be free of all distractions. I want nothing more than to focus on my bike and the track. Standing up, I start to stretch my arms above my head when I feel someone watching me. I turn to see Ansley under the tent, in her little black outfit.

“Hey, Ans, what are you doing here?” I don’t want to be rude, but I really need to focus, and seeing her here, dressed like that . . . not helping.

“I just wanted to wish you good luck.”

“Thanks, but you really need to go.”

“Coop . . .” I cut her off, I really didn’t want to be mean, but I really needed alone time to get my head in the race.

“Please, girl, seeing you in leather won’t help me keep my focus today.”

She giggles and then leans up, kisses me on the cheek and whispers ‘Good luck,’ one more time. Then turns and struts away. I think I might have growled a little, yes growled. Fuck me, I want that.

I turn, slide open the doors to the truck and walk in, shutting them right behind me.
What the fuck is she thinking?
She, of all people, knows what race day is like and today is huge for me. Damn it. Leather, I only see her ass in leather now. GRRR!

I pull my blue and white jersey over my head and tuck it into my pants. I check the buckles on my boots to make sure they are snug. Picking up my chest protector, I throw it over my head until it rests comfortably in place, and then I click the sides together. Reaching over, I grab for my neck brace, attaching it to my chest protector, keeping everything from shifting. The only thing left to do now is, put my helmet and goggles on. I pick them both up and slide them on my forearm. Walking over to my bike that’s under the tent, I throw my leg over and kick-start it, while my mechanic follows right behind me, climbing on the bike. I take off from under the tent, heading to the start line. My practice is going to start in about ten minutes. My mechanic slides off once we get there and stands revving the engine, keeping the bike warmed up, while I put my helmet and goggles on.

Practice goes well and I qualify, eighth fastest in the 250 class. There is about an hour to wait for the next practice, to see if I can improve it. During that time, I watch the tape of me on the track. I move one spot in the second practice, so that means I also get seventh gate pick for the first heat race. There are two heat races, your number gets drawn into one of those two to race in. Then, if you don’t qualify top five in that, you have two other ways of getting into the main. The last chance qualifying races they have is just that, the last chance you get. But it also means you’ll have whatever gates are left to pick from at the start. In the end, there will be a total of twenty-five guys that will line up at the starting gate for the main race.

I race my heat and take third, and I am more than happy with that finish. Ryan draws out for heat number two and wins it. I am not looking forward to racing against him. It’s been a long time first off, and now with us not being on the same team, it feels different altogether. I still want him to do well; he is amazingly smooth out there, and he doesn’t ever waver from being himself at all times. He doesn’t make excuses and doesn’t bullshit you; if he doesn’t like you on the track then you’ll know it, but that list is very short.

After all the qualifying races are done, we have some time before the opening ceremonies start. They will play the National Anthem then the top ten riders are announced, one by one. They each do a parade lap around the stadium, waving to the fans. Usually, the top two riders actually stop, get off their bikes, climbing into the stands to give the helmets they are wearing to a fan. They also throw their goggles out into the crowd. The fans go crazy during the pre-show. Fireworks are usually let off as well.

My mechanic makes some adjustments to my suspension and changes out my tires. I feel, other than those two things, the bike is dialed in pretty good. I change out of my gear for a fresh set, and now it’s go time. We have watched my qualifying heat on film, to show me where I should line up on the gate to help me get a better start, and what lines I can change up to make my passes smoother and gain time on others. Heading into the main, I should be set.

My name is called and I pick my gate, as my mechanic does a once over on the bike. I think to myself what Mr. Evans would be saying to Ryan and me, at this moment . . .
Good luck boys, ride smart, ride safe and keep it on two wheels.

The gate drops and I make it out of the first turn clean and in the fifth spot. I can see the first four guys in front, they aren’t too far ahead, and as long as I keep them in my sight, then I always have a chance. I can hear the bikes behind me; a couple are close, too close for my liking. Flying over jumps, taking the inside lines in corners, and riding smooth over the whoop section, is all I can try to do, to catch a couple of the guys in front of me.

At the end of the night, I take fourth. I am pleased with myself and my first Supercross race. Ryan won the race, and after watching the footage, he kicked ass and had a full five-second lead on the rest of the class. It’s crazy to me. He’s even gotten better than before.

I head back to the hotel with Jesse, as well as both of our mechanics. Jesse had a good night as well, finishing right in front of me in third. He attacks when he gets on the track; though he never touches bars with anyone, he will push you out of the way by taking over your line, before you even realize it.

“That was fucking awesome,” I say, like it was an announcement.

“It was, wasn’t it?” Jesse says back.

“Jesus, I’m like on a high from the ride. My mind can’t wrap around what just happened.”

“As long as we keep this shit up, we will be top contenders!”

“That’s right, but next week, my ass is going to be on that podium.”

“Sure, you can be standing right next to me in second, when I take first.”

“Fuck you, Jesse, I don’t think so. It’ll be the other way around,” I say chuckling at him.

We all get a good laugh as we pull into the hotel parking lot. It’s time for a hot shower and bed. My flight tomorrow is at nine a.m., so I have to be up early.

I enter my room, wanting to collapse, but instead I drag my ass to the shower. As I walk out, I see I have two voice messages, one from Ryan and of course the other from you know who.

Ryan’s is first so I listen. “Just wanted to say great job tonight, congrats on your finish. Until next week, take it easy.”

Then there is Ansley’s, “Hey, Coop, you did incredible out there tonight. Congrats on your first race and finish.”

I send them both a quick message saying, ‘thanks, talk to you soon,’ then I plug in my phone on the nightstand, and climb into bed. I am exhausted; as soon as my head hit the pillow, I’m out. There are no other thoughts keeping me awake tonight.