Gilles Lalay Classic

Gilles Lalay Classic

Strike two at the world's toughest enduro

WHEN IN FRANCE, DO AS THE FRENCH DO, RIGHT? IN my case, that meant entering the Gilles Lalay Classic for a second stab at finishing the world's toughest off-road motorcycle race. The GLC is a tribute to Gilles Lalay, one of France's all-timebest off-road racers who was tragically killed in the Paris Dakar Rally.

About 250 riders give the race a try, at an event that has seen as few as four finishers, though in recent years as many as 36 riders have completed the course. Back in 1994, the GLC had well and truly kicked my fanny, and I wanted a second try at reaching the Corbeau Mount (Dead Crow Hill) finish line. This time, I was a bit more prepared-I even trained for a couple of weeks.

My bike for the race was a 1998 Honda CR250, prepped by Challenge 75, a French speed shop. It was mostly stock with the addition of a lighting coil and special high-output lights, a heavy-duty skidplate and pipe guard, and Dunlop tires with Crescent Mousse tube inserts to fend off flats. The suspension was softened up, UFO handguards were fitted, and pull straps were installed on the fork and over the rear of the seat to give the GLC's ever-present trailside "assis tants" a place to grab. Bless `em. The morning session is run in typical European enduro for

mat, with grass-track and cross-country special-test times determining the score. From here, the top 100 riders are select ed to compete in a 130-mile scratch race, first rider to the fin ish wins. I made the cut in 33rd position, and was in pretty good shape to make the finish. Then, it started to rain again.

The six-hour stint in the morning would qualify as a tough national enduro here in the States, but the scratch race is just plain sadistic. The organization says that a top rider can ride unassisted over the entire course. Well, I'd like to meet him. From cliff-like hillclimbs to boulder gardens along the side of-and sometimes in-rushing rivers to bottomless mud bogs, endless off-camber trails, slippery log crossings and downhills where you just slide down chasing your bike, the course is relentless. Starting at 3 in the afternoon makes get ting as far as possible before dark a real concern, and in my case, the railroad spike in my coffin.

I moved quickly into the top 20, but a bottleneck at a river/hillclimb/rockfield gave the top-lO guys a big spread on the rest of the protagonists, who, like me, were carrying our bikes out of the mess. It started getting dark at Checkpoint 2 with a good 70 miles still left. I then lost 20 minutes with a lighting problem, and another 30 minutes stuck in the mud before reaching CP3, where my team informed me, "Jimmy, for you the race is finished."

I'd missed the 9 p.m. deadline to clear the check and had to retire, the 18th rider from the end to be pulled off the course. At around 10:30, Cyril Esquril made the climb up the spectator-infested finish hill to claim his third GLC vic tory. Only seven riders made it to the finish of this year's event; all seven claim to have trained specifically for this race for up to four months.

Jimmy Lewis

Essentially, they've turned themselves into monsters, earning my respect as the toughest motorcycle racers in the world.