Everyone gets hurt on a motocross bike.

Forget Nicky Hayden, Valentino Rossi and Andrea Dovizioso - though they’ve all banged themselves up pretty good in the dirt. The fastest guy I’m friends with - former WSMC #1 Brant Wiwi - came away from his first couple of days in the dirt with a broken back and a lacerated spleen.

So when the guys in the garage found two motocross tracks on Long Island, I hoped it wouldn’t catch on. It did. Demain, Ilya, Doug and Fabrizio all bought MX bikes and started going. A lot.

After months of resiting, I agree to come along and scare the crap out of myself. I wasn’t disappointed.

We arrived at the track and unloaded the bikes. Doug was on his KTM 250sx monster, Demian on his 2003 CR250, Fab had his YZF250 bought from a local racer and I was on Demian’s CRF250x since my Husky failed to start that morning.

When we arrive at the track office, we see guys flying by us. Sideways. On the rear wheel. Pinned.

Looking around the track, we see guys 15 feet in the air in several places. “We have no business out there” I whimper. Demain tells me its fine. We’ll go slow.

Now here’s the thing I understood about MX tracks: You can’t actually roll around them. There are areas where speed and air are simply required to get through stuff. Turns out I wasn’t wrong but more on that later.

We all sign in, get our bracelets, pay our fees and head back to the truck to change. There’s no safety briefing. I suppose it’s a pretty self-selecting sport. Unlike a roadracing track day, there’s no part of this that looks like you could just go out there and do it - at least to everyone other than the guys I’m with.

Oh, there’s also no skill groups. Demain and I fire up our Hondas (well, his Hondas) and head out to share the track with guys who can actually do this.

The track is large and for the first 30 seconds, I’m fine. Then I see the first large jump. It’s a wall approximately 10 feet tall. I watch Demain gas up it and loft his bike perhaps only a foot in the air. Ok then. I follow, roll off the gas just at the top and manage to keep my wheels on the ground. Whew.

We slowly tip-toe around and I get a little less scared. Maybe we CAN simply roll around this place.

Nope.

I round a left hand turn and find myself looking at the face of the, “Tunnel Jump”. This monstrosity is perhaps 20 feet tall and nearly vertical. The dirt at the lip has worn away exposing a concrete edge that could be easily mistaken for a curb on any street.

Nothing to do but give it a little gas.

Here’s where I should explain my fear about motocross: The consequences of getting a very small, simple thing wrong can be dramatic.

I head up the face and roll off the throttle at the top. I’m surprised when the bike doesn’t react. It was probably because my wheels weren’t actually on the ground. It’s actually a nice feeling. One that I would enjoy were I consumed with the fact that I’m pointed off the side of this thing and looking at two stories of empty space between me and some hard looking dirt.

Thankfully, I land on the right edge of the jump and make it down the other side. Whoa.

At this moment, I’m not having any fun. I’m rolling around this place in total self-preservation mode - a mode which if working properly would keep me from riding a motocross track in the first place. It’s conflicting.

Coming on to the start/finish there are a series of whoops - the first of which is bigger than the rest. When we were signing in, I watched the fast guys triple off this one.

I try to roll over it only to find there is no back side to the jump. Roll over it like I do and your front wheel falls off a 3 foot cliff and then has to climb up the next 2 foot jump. The bike’s upset. The position of my right wrist means when the bike climbs up the next whoop, I unintentionally turn the throttle launching the bike up the face. Now I’m upset.

I’m just trying to stay out of everyone’s way and not fall off. Not in that order.

I do another lap, find myself unintentionally in the air three or five more times and then pull off. Panting. Demian comes by and asks how I’m doing. I think I curse at him.

I calm myself down and head out for another five laps. I’m exhausted after two. Each time I try to keep my wheels on the ground over the Tunnel Jump and I actually succeed once. One time, my rear tire hits the concrete lip hard enough to send it into the air followed by the front. I don’t think that’s how you’re supposed to do it.

I find myself being passed by an airborne motorcycle many, many times. I pull off and decide I’m done.

I watch the boys go around looking pretty comfortable.

I change back to street clothes and realize I’m pretty conflicted about going out again. The reality is it’s a ton of fun. It’s also proper dangerous. But I can see how this makes you a much better rider and when you get it right, it looks awesome.

So maybe I’ll go back out. I hear the other track on Long Island is smaller and perhaps a little less intimidating.

Many thanks to Demain for the loan of his 250x and not taking, “no” for an answer - no matter how many times I said it. Thanks also the fast guys at LIMX for not being annoyed at this baby deer trying to learn how to walk while they were galloping around me.