Blake Cotton
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Ladies and gentleman, If you are currently reading this, then it means that the Vurb Doggies have given me a shot at writing something in longer form without the limited character count that I am allowed on Twitter (X). Look at me, mom! Your boy made it! I am now writing words on a dirt bike website and being compensated in all the hot dogs and beer I can possibly consume. Who says you need to go to college to be successful and achieve such an elite level in life? Take that, whoever is graduating class of 2024 with a journalism degree!!! Anyways, I hope I’m better at writing about dirt bikes than I am at actually riding dirt bikes, because if not, we are in for a VERY bumpy ride here people! Speaking of bumpy rides, this seems like a perfect shift into telling you all about my experiences racing the Gypsy 500 in Mesquite Nevada.
It all started for me whenever Chili (VurbWes) and I were having a conversation around six or nine months ago about coming out of retirement in 2024. I was catching the moto-fever again and wanted something fun to jump back in with. Something I’ve never done before. Something that would test me in every way, but also isn’t some pressure-cooker like an amateur national. Those days of racing for me are over. I have entered the “beer league” now, if you will. I wanted a race that would allow me to feel a sense of accomplishment for just going and actually doing it, regardless of what place I finished in, and have fun the entire time.
Wes told me that himself and Jase (Gypsy Tales) were actually in the middle of concocting the EXACT race that I was looking for! All I had to do was get my butt and a gear bag there and we would figure the rest out. It is a team race, so you can bring your own bike, or ride on a team with someone else that brings a bike (shoutout “BigMXRadio” Brad Gebhart and James Dallman, my Canadian teammates for Vurb Team 2, AKA: Team “Look Pro, Go Slow”) What else could I say to the bearded Wes, other than, “COUNT ME IN DUDE!”?
Now, CMXR has to admit that he has not traveled out of the Southeastern United States much in his 30 years of living. This trip was my first time on the west coast, and only my third time flying commercial. Needless to say, I am pretty green when it comes to traveling. Our accounting department said we only had enough funds to fly Spirit Airlines (first mistake, that guy is now fired from CMXR LLC. WE fly Delta!) and that was the first of many bumpy rides I took over this awesome weekend.
Landing in Vegas in the middle of the night is pretty sick. I had my Uber driver take me on the scenic route out to Mesquite because I wanted to see all the cool stuff like the MGM Grand and the Sphere. We finally arrived to the town of Mesquite around 4AM after a long, dark, and kind of scary drive down I-15 through the desert. I was way too amped up to go to sleep, so I cracked open a Twisted Tea and watched the sunrise on a beautiful Friday morning. Who needs sleep? I’ll sleep when I’m dead!! (Foreshadowing)
We had Steven from Vurb and his sweet moto pooch, Brad Gebhardt, Motocross Luther, Dylan Jackson, Brett Cue, Eli Moore (Brotocross), and myself all staying together in the same AirBNB. We probably missed the golden opportunity to film the pilot episode of a hit reality TV show there. Living in a house with six other dirt bikers for the weekend was one hell of a good time in itself.
Once everyone was awake, we loaded up and hit Jack in the Box on the way to the track to fuel up. The boys were ready to rip some practice!!! Team Look Pro Go Slow wound up riding aboard a sick fuel injected KTM 300 SX that is actually Brad’s personal bike. I rode one practice lap, but was so tired from no sleep that I ended up taking a nap in my other Canadian teammate James’ van. Some people were shocked to see my ability to literally sleep anywhere at any time. Those people clearly were not at the 2021 Vurb Shred Tour to witness me sleeping in the scoring tower at Aonia Pass (like the rest of the Vurb crew saw). The Vurb Dogs knew it was all just a part of the process! ELITE athletes gotta sleep when they can!
After a quick power nap, I was ready to get the evening events kicked off that included the Gypsy 50 pit bike race, a live Gypsy Tales podcast at the track, followed by a fun night at the bar with the boys (ask Luther about Michelle next time you see him. I think he is in love.)
The Airbnb was quiet by the time we arrived around midnight. The race started at 8AM, so WE had eight hours to snooze and sober up before it was go time! Bright and early, the boys loaded up and started our long day with more Jack in the Box breakfast burritos on the way to the track. Wes was clearly nervous from the moment I first saw him as I was pulling up to our pit. His first words to me were, “Dude, I got pre race jitters for the first time in 20 years. I’ve already taken like six or nine dumps this morning!” (Thanks for reminding me about pre race butterflies Wes. It was all good until you said something about it. Now if you would excuse me, I need to find a restroom.)
The race starts, my turn comes around, and reality kicks in:
(My inner monologue: “Ok, here we go. No more talking about it, no more tweeting from the couch. You are here, dude. You are now 2,000 miles away from everything you’ve ever known and loved, you’re in the middle of the Nevada desert, and your teammate is handing his bike over to you because he is depending on you to help finish this race. There is no turning back from this point. WE have burned the boats!!!!!! It’s officially time to be a dirt bike racer again, whether you want to or not. Good luck and Godspeed!”) and away I went!
If you guys were wondering where the SX whoops went that they took away from Birmingham…I found them! Actually, I’ve discovered where every single SX whoop that has ever been made in the history of the sport goes after they die. From every race track and practice track, ever. Even the old telephone pole whoops from Daytona SX.
They all go to Mesquite MX as their final resting place, buried deep down in the desert sand to never be disturbed again…that is, until we resurrected them by performing a 500-minute ritual involving 300 motorcycles, bringing them back from the grave one lap at a time (Disclaimer: No animals were harmed during the performing of this ritual. Well, except this animal. Me. The Party Animal. I was quite exhausted and wanted a beer after the first lap, but WE dug deep and finished.)
I personally have never seen a track develop quite like this one did. Dorothy already wasn’t in Kansas anymore, (or in my case, riding on red clay and dodging Georgia pines) but this track became a monster to even the best riders! Remember me saying something about 300 bikes on the same track at the same time for eight hours? Yeah, those 300 dudes ranged from the fastest guys in the world to the most average of joes like me! It was pretty cool getting my doors blown off by the likes of Destry Abbott and Cody Webb all day, but the most interesting part was how the track developed because of it.
You had all the pro guys and girls (shout-out Vicki Golden) developing lines and breaking bumps, while also having team Look Pro Go Slow developing their own lines and breaking bumps. Plus every skill level of rider in between. There was even a team of superminis out there!!!
By the end of the eight hour race, every square inch of the track looked like a Supercross whoop section that was built with bottomless beach sand. The hills that we were riding up and down would give Mount St. Helen a run for its money. It was absolutely BRUTAL and it made me fully understand and appreciate the definition of this neat little word we made up called “fundurance”.
This race tested me in every way possible. It was NOT easy, but it was some of the most fun I’ve had in my 30 years of living! Being out there with all of your friends embracing and enduring the difficulty together is what it’s all about. It’s why we all fell in love with dirt bike racing in the first place. Being able to pit with all the Vurb crew, Gypsy crew, Motosport crew, and a slew of others that were all packed together side by side was the best part of it all.
Even though all the teams were competing against one another, we were all collectively battling this monster of a course together. Teams began helping each other out (shoutout to team Motosport for keeping fuel in both Vurb team bikes, or else our unprepared arses would have been out of the race by the fourth hour due to only bringing one jug of fuel.)
The race finally came to an end at exactly 4:20PM (I see what you did there, lol) but the fun just kept on going! We had a full awards ceremony for the best rippers of the day, and then the after party kicked off. The Red Bull truck was blasting tunes, the Supercross race was up on the projector, and Chef Bird Dog was slinging free hibachi hot dogs out to people like it was going out of style. We were only missing one thing. BEER! “I got this one boys, this is my expertise. I’ll be right back!” 30 minutes later, CMXR, Steven, and his moto-pooch return to Mesquite MX with 90 cans of Coors banquets and a 12 pack of 805 brews in the back of a Toyota Tacoma like the modern day Smokey and the Bandit! The party has arrived, folks!
Flash forward to one week later, and I am currently sitting back in reality reflecting on what an INSANE weekend I had. I am trying to put my experience into words, and I am slowly realizing that I could write an entire novel on my experiences in the four days that I spent as a traveling dirt biker. Next time, I will give “vlogging” a shot again, because I feel like it would convey the experience better than text could; but in all honesty, the only true way to get the full blown experience of what I just experienced is to GO DO IT!! That is the one lesson I took away from this entire thing. I’m 30 years old and this was my first time traveling out of the Southeastern US, and this was my first dirt bike race in 15 years. WHY?! Why did I wait so long to do this?! That is the only question I have at the end of all this.
So, if you actually are still reading this far into this thing for whatever reason, thank you! If you can take anything from this word-salad of thoughts I’ve put together, I only hope that it is the realization that the only thing holding you back from ACTUALLY LIVING YOUR DREAMS and going through amazing experiences in your own life is YOU!!!!!!
I’m not special, I’m just a regular dude, but here I am…writing about an amazing experience that I was able to live, only because I decided to grow a pair and make it happen.
If you also have aspirations of going from couch to 500 like I did, then I would like to invite you out to the East Coast round of the Gypsy 500 in South Carolina in December. Even if you don’t come to race, just come out and watch and enjoy the experience! Everyone is welcome!
I look forward to seeing all of you at future events! I am thankful and blessed to say that I am a racer again! This was only the beginning. Thank you all for taking the time out of your lives to read into my life for just a moment. God bless all of you, and VIVA LA VURB BABY!!!!!!
– CMXR
