Sardegna Rally
SARDEGNA RALLY
CW FEATURE
RALLY RACING IS LIFE. EVERYTHING ELSE IS JUST LOGISTICS.
NED SUESSE
Every racer knows one of the most intense moments in life is just before the start. Anticipation is a strong emotion-there's a reason lingerie is so popular-and in those instants before the green flag drops, all of our desires and fears come together and fill us to the brim. When the race is part of a world championship, like the eighth annual Sardegna Rally in which I’m competing, the emotions are even more powerful. As I sit on the starting line, I know I’m going to have to bring my best game.
The six-day Sardegna Rally is one of a half-dozen world championship rounds that lead up to the biggest rally of them all, the Dakar. Sardegna (I’m going with the local Italian spelling) is an island in the Mediterranean Sea about the size of New Hampshire. Unlike most rallies, which run across wide-open desert, the course here runs through olive groves on narrow cart paths that date back to the Roman Empire.
RALLY RACING IS DIFFERENT IN THAT THE COURSE IS KEPT SECRET AND ISN’T MARKED.
Rally racing differs from other forms of motorsport in that the course is kept secret and isn’t marked. Getting lost is a real risk and there is no GPS to fall back on. Racers are given paper scrolls containing navigation instructions— in Sardegna, these scrolls were so big we had to change them midday. Reading instructions every few hundred meters for hundreds of kilometers while riding as quickly as possible puts me in a mental state that is positively addicting. That—along with the sheer enjoyment of riding a motorcycle through the spectacular places we get to visit—is why I love it.
In addition to racing against the clock on closed roads, rally racers ride their bikes over untimed sections on open public roads. These liaisons are a dual-sport rider’s dream. Even with herds of racebikes thundering through picturesque villages at oneminute intervals, the Italians loved it. I never saw a cross expression and the carabinieri waved us by even when we were already speeding!
Champions in all motorcycle racing disciplines must possess amazing bike control, but rally racers also have to be athletes with the stamina to stay focused for hours (and days) on end. The best, in my view, are complete riders, which is the highest praise I can bestow upon a racer.
One of the most fascinating aspects of participating in an event like this is getting to see how world-class rally racers do what they do. The takeaway, for me, is that the best are capable of riding a bike very fast for a very long time, in every condition imaginable, and almost never make a mistake.
The logistics of taking part in an international race like this are intimidating. We had to get six people, two motorcycles, plus a whole bunch of spare parts, gear, and tools to Italy and then transport everything between the farflung bivouac locations. We accomplished that by using Air Canada’s fly-with-yourbike program, which required driving from my home in Colorado to Toronto since the service is only offered from select cities. That—not to mention the four-hour wait in the middle of the night at the border after we forgot to get a form stamped—is all part of the adventure. I kept telling myself if it were easy, everyone would do it!
The shared adventure of rally racing forms bonds between competitors—I saw teams that were competing for stage wins helping one another in the pits. On the first day, while on liaison from one special stage to the next, I pulled into a gas station to fill up my KTM. At the pump in front of me was Carlos Checa, longtime MotoGP competitor and former World Superbike champion. I thought it was fantastic that he chose to do this kind of race, so far outside his normal discipline, and told him as much. From that point on he made an effort to say hello whenever we crossed paths. It turned out we were fairly evenly matched, and in the end he beat me by one position—40 seconds after five days of racing. It may sound odd to say, but I was proud to lose to Carlos.
The moment immediately after a race is intense, too, but in a different way than before. Whereas the start is filled with anticipation, the finish is filled with varying degrees of frustration and satisfaction. I think Steve McQueen got it slightly wrong when he said, “When you’re racing, it’s life. Anything that happens before or after is just waiting.” I would include the moments just before and after racing in that equation. For me, the Sardegna Rally was mostly satisfying: I finished 29th in a field of 80 of the world’s best rally racers and made memories to last a lifetime.
