RESOLUTION
Sliding into the cluttered corner, I did everything I could to brace for a catastrophic impact. The pile-up was caused by one of the frontrunners skidding too far on the inside line, causing the avalanche of crashes behind him. Hayai was amongst the initial pile, as he had the 7th best starting position.
The cluster of bikes racked up in the first corner forced the following riders to change their lines, some acting as collateral damage to the destruction. I was not able to avoid the disaster, as I skidded my DZed into the backside of the chaos.
I can tell you this much, wiping out on pavement is a whole other shade of pain, compared to off-road ones. After what seemed like a year resting on the pavement, I regained my posture and ran towards the bike. It appears that aside from a few unintentional scrapes, the bike survived the crash unscathed. I wasted little time jabbing the electric start, hoping to wake my engine up from its brief coma. I didn’t see any leaks from the other bikes, so it appears as though the race will go on. That means every second will mold the landscape of the series.
Because so many of the frontrunners were a part of the crash, several mid-late qualifiers took the early lead. I could see ahead towards the end of the lap and pinpoint who had the holeshot (early lead). It was #273, who qualified around the same time as me. He was on a factory Hoya bike and appeared more than ready to pin the pavement sections. Considering his penchant for the road, I know he’s going to be hard to catch there but I did see some delineation in his lap times when he goes to the dirt.
If I can stay on my line throughout the dirt section, I think I can catch up to his group. That won’t be easy, as at least a dozen riders galloping ahead of me. Supermoto is a sport of precision. Timing alone isn’t enough to surpass your fellow riders. In this arena, you have to micromanage the different sections, as if they were the only terrain you were racing.
After a few laps, the remnants of the crash have evaporated and the point leaders have caught a second wind. I spent the first half of the race battling my way through the pack. Lap by lap, I dwindle between 15th and 20th place. Solid, considering my experience, but there was still plenty of heat coming for my rear tire.
Around the 7th lap, the points leader blows by my DZed. He took an outside line that he cut into the inside by the end of the turn. It’s not an uncommon move to make, but the timing of his execution was beautiful. If I wasn’t pissed off, I would have given him kudos for that pass. By the end of the following lap, Hayai and some of the other leaders had found my rear tire.
Usually, there are team rules for helping a rider with more points. Depending on the team, it could be an unspoken rule or a clear mandate. That rule would be if the rider with fewer points is ahead and his teammate catches him, he’ll give his line away and allow the teammate to pass. While I understand a team’s reasoning for wanting this to happen, allowing the act to happen is easier said than done.
By the 10th lap, Hayai had gotten within a second of me and was ready to make a pass. As hard as it was to let up, I knew that my role on this team was to secure as many points as possible. In a tight turn around the last corner, I took the outside line and allowed him to continue his charge to the front. The move was morally conflicting, as a variety of emotions seeped through my helmet. As a competitor, you never want to let up on your pursuits. Having said that, this team took a chance on me in a pro series and allowed me the opportunity to race, so I have to repay my debt with gratitude (and maybe a few points of my own).
As we reached the halfway mark of the race, I found myself stuck in the middle of the pack. According to Haruto’s calculations, I kept hovering between the 16th and 22nd positions. I was having a heck of a time finding a good opportunity to pass one group, as I constantly let up on my line in the same corner. I think what I was doing was shifting down too soon, which directly lead to me braking before I could angle into the right line. By the next lap, I had found a way to adjust my timing.
Little by little, I found my way advancing through the pack. From the 12th lap on, I was picking off one rider at a time. 20th, 19th, 18th…… I can’t explain the sudden rise. Honestly, it was an act out of instinct and racecraft. The concept of “finding your flow” could be aptly applied here, as this lap was the real turning point in my race.
Slowly, but surely, I found a way to outgear each rider at a time. My fluency in the track increased with each turn as if I was reading it from a book.
The slick sections, the tightly packed clay corners. It all seemed to connect into one smooth line for me. The only way I could explain it would be my race instinct taking over, as I tended to get strong with each lap.
As the race was drawing closer and closer to the checkered flag, I continued my ascent to the leading pack. Positions 20-17 were easy to achieve, but the remaining spots were a grind to pass. It started with a battle with two other riders for 16th. One of them tended to send it on the dirt tabletop and blast out of the dirt, only to take a poor turn around the following corner. It felt like a recycled game of cat and mouse trying to keep pace with the guy.
The other rider and I jockeyed for the appropriate time to pass. Finally, the right opportunity presented itself. Going around one hairpin turn, one of them stalled their bike. The deflating nature of his engine gives way and allows me to seize the line. Powering around the corner, I hit my mark to shift up and distance myself from both riders.
After making the pass up to 16th, I get a message from Haruto on the marker board. “Raise the intensity” was the message on the board and when I started the following lap, I quickly realized why it was on the board. There were 3 minutes left in the race. As hard as I tried, I made my final push towards a top 10 position. Unfortunately, I fell just short. 15th place was too many bike lengths ahead and managed to outpace me on the final lap. It was still a good race, though. If anything, it was my best race of the day. Because of the slogs I had to ride through on this moto, I discovered the lines I needed to push for my best finish in the final moto.
The final race of the day was the Super Final. Despite the muddy start position, I slung around the first corner and didn’t look back. For the 20 minute race, I held my line and managed to battle with some of the top racers. However, there was one spot that kept evading me in this one.
For much of the race, I was stuck in 11th position. Very good (considering there are 31 other riders), but there’s something about that top 10 spot that is just so prestigious. A finish in that group may be commonplace for some racers, but for me, it could perfectly punctuate this bucket list activity.
With each passing lap, I gained a small (bike’s length) but important gap on the 10th place rider. He was onto me as he found a way to close the door on any passing opportunity. It didn’t matter which part of the track we were on, the cat and mouse game for that spot bandied about for at least a handful of laps. Finally, I had the inside line going around the berm in the dirt section. I made sure to hit the right mark before using my brakes.
As he swung around the outside of the berm, I fishtailed around the inside and shut down his line for the pass. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought that I was making a routine pass during an MX moto. The execution was flawless and for once, properly taken. Despite the excellent move, it was clear that he was going to be on my ass for the rest of the race.
For the remainder of the race, he and I battled for the same line. The tension was palpable, as I could feel the heat radiating from the front of his bike. He was not letting up, nor was I about to give up my hard-earned place. Eventually, it all came down to the last straightaway. Exiting the final turn, I could hear his boot clicking the bike into 5th gear. Sending the bike into oblivion, he pulled up to my right and hid near the handlebars.
It was a last-ditch effort to save on wind drag, as he was going to need every ounce of that speed to pass my DZed. As soon as I feel him starting to pull ahead, I changed my posture and made sure that I’m pumping every bit of fuel out of my bike to charge toward the finish line. With the throttle pinned, we made our final push for the checkered flag.
In a moment of suspense, I zoned out of the race and thought of one thing. Every mile I’ve ridden on this trip has prepared me for this moment. The culmination of every place I’ve seen, food I’ve sampled, art I’ve been confused by. It’s all served a role in where I’m at, at this moment.
The final seconds felt like hours, as I couldn’t shake this rider off of my ass. With feet to go, I grip my throttle even tighter and ring out the remaining RPMs of my DZed. All I remembered next was crossing the finish line and immediately looking to my right. I couldn’t tell if he had edged me out for the finish or if I had held him up. In this moment of confusion, I head towards the pits and am immediately greeted with a chorus of cheers.
As it turns out, I DID edge out the rider and finished in 10th. According to Haruto, I beat him by a tire length. It could be classified as a “photo finish”, as the battle down the stretch was something right out of the movies. I couldn’t believe that after striving for mediocrity throughout this entire event, I pulled through on the final race and finished in the top 10. I was have been happy with top 20s across the board, but a top 10? That’s just special.
In total, I finished with 20 points on the day. That was good enough to have me finish in 12th overall, but more importantly, my actions in the second race helped secure Hayai’s podium finish! He came in 3rd overall and between the two of us, we earned enough points to have Sensu finish 3rd in the factory standings! I was elated. The idea that I lived out a fantasy in a foreign place, and helped them contend for something, was all too surreal.
Of course, the champagne showers and tire-blowing burnouts followed in quick succession. The series had concluded and for everyone’s sake, their revved-up emotions were ready to be released. The “work hard, play hard” mentality has never been applied more than today and I’m so proud of the work that my team did to make this dream a reality.
This day was one that I’ll never forget, for a variety of reasons. I build this trip around the idea of immersing myself in unknown surroundings and forcing myself to adapt my way around. Never did I think an opportunity like this would have come, especially during this time in my life. I’m forever grateful for the opportunity that they gave me and I can safely say that they’ve earned a new customer in the process.
What transpired the rest of the day was straight-up debauchery and post-race shenanigans. I won’t divulge the details but let’s just say that we had fun around the track.
June 20th-23rd
With a freshly minted hangover and some race-earned yen in my pocket, I took a morning flight back to Okinawa to finish what we had started. This entry could fall into the “pictures being worth a thousand words” criteria, as we did about every sort of outdoor activity during this time. Everything from snorkeling to sushi sampling was on our docket. As a matter of fact, it was during the latter event in which Jinshu surprised me with something I’ll never forget.
During our sampling, I received a text from him with clippings of news stories about the race. It was from the publications that had interviewed me. That wasn’t the surprise, rather, it was the headline that one of them chose to run with.
At the top, in big bolded letters read, “Gaijin rider, AM20, makes history in Osaka”. I was speechless. I was the first foreign rider to have a top 10 finish, in my first event. Initially, I had no idea where the nickname “AM20” came from. Yes, my initials are AM, but what’s the significance of the number?
Well, amidst the party in the pits after the races, someone on the team had begun to chant out this nickname. Because I scored 20 points on the day, it was a convenient thing to yell around the parking lot. When the one publication heard about my historic final race, they came over to the pits to give my reaction to the news.
I was three sheets to the wind, at this point, so the chanting staff member took the honor of commenting for me. His unbridled enthusiasm for the nickname stuck, and the writer went with it to simplify the headline. I have a real habit of getting nicknames when I least expect it.
From that moment on, my nickname in the racing community here is AM20. Honestly, it fits. Aside from it being my point tally, it happens to be my favorite number. Sometimes, the best gifts in life are the ones that you don’t ask for.
Now that I have a newly christened nickname and race reputation (on a global level), I feel like everything I’ve wanted to achieve on this trip has been done. Well, I take that back. There is one thing left that I need to do…
June 24th
On the final night in Okinawa, we took a stroll along a nearby beach and took in the warm summer evening. The moment was never going to be easier, so I broke our stoic stroll with an all-consuming question.
“Setsuko, why did you go out of your way to help me on this journey?”
You veered over, giving me a slightly puzzled look. It was as if you were piecing together the proper response, crafting the right words to express the sentiment. After what seemed like hours, your response rang in tones of wisdom.
“Ayden, your family have been good friends to me for over 20 years now. I’ve had the opportunity to watch you grow from this shy, loving boy to the adventurous man I see today. Your mother, in particular, was a real light in my life. Everything from teaching me certain chores to cooking different dishes served as a beautiful bonding experience with her.
In many ways, she was the other parent in my life. As you know, I lost my father shortly before I came to the US. I was at a point in my life where my career was about to start, but I no longer had parental guidance. It didn’t matter how far away I was from home. Part of me felt stranded, as one of my wheels was flat. It was your mother that brought me out of that funk and showed me another path.
She was the one that influenced me to take the route I’m on today. The support, consideration, and most importantly, the love that she sent my way steered me towards the life that I live now. The family I have now, the career that I chose, none of that would have been possible without your mother.
When she passed, I felt like a part of me had withered away. Someone that was a ray of sunshine in my life was suddenly gone. I couldn’t fathom a way to grieve for her. She, along with your whole family, had done so much to help me become the person that I am today. How could any greeting card or gift rationalize that grief?
It was when you had suggested taking a trip here a few years ago that I had decided to do this. Your mother was kind enough to make an itinerary of places for me to see in the US many moons ago, so I figured repaying that favor was the least that I could do.
Also, I knew that you were going through a lot of your own personal grief. You had lost your mother, best friend, and someone that you loved all within a short amount of time. You felt stuck in your career and couldn’t find a way to break out. Racing for fun became scarce, evading any hopes of replenishing your spirits.
I knew that you were in a bad way. It was necessary for your own health to get out and find an experience that could heal you. I knew that this was the trip to do such a thing as it was going to fulfill so many things that you wanted to do. It also gave you the chance to reflect, heal, and move forward.
Life isn’t going to be driven in linear lines. Sometimes, the gravel road to the side may be the route you have to take. There’s no shame in any career that you didn’t achieve or a relationship that didn’t work out. The journey that you’re on will lead you to something special. You just have to find the right route to take you there.
Ayden, you have what it takes to cultivate your own life. Don’t be afraid to move forward and build that life that you’ve dreamed of. Just remember, you’re not building a life for yourself, but for the loved ones that can no longer enjoy it. The memories you shared with them will live with you forever, so life your life as if you’re fulfilling all of their dreams and aspirations.
You just completed a trip that fulfilled your dream. Now, continue your journey by doing something for others. All I ask is that you continue to journal each stop for me.”
On this warm, Okinawan night, your words harmonized with the soft, summer breeze. It was a moment of peace and serenity (a “zen” moment, if you will). After all of the miles that I traveled, I finally understood the core of what I was doing here. It was never about seeing somewhere new or aimlessly wandering. It was about rebuilding myself and preparing for a future to honor my loved ones.
I couldn’t articulate my emotion on the beach, but let it be known that your word will forever reverberate through my soul. I fulfilled a bucket list adventure, but that wasn’t the goal of this trip. I’ve spent too much time being down on myself, lamenting on the miss opportunities I had with my loved ones.
The end of this trip will be a rebirth, of sorts. With your words of wisdom marked in my mind, I have a new edict. With the DZed at my side and an alliance with Senzu, I have the opportunity to carve out a new path. That will start tomorrow morning. Tonight, we’ll soak up every moment under the stars. Nothing but you, me, your family, and our instruments of choice. I couldn’t have asked for a better coda to this trip.
The melodies will carry us into the next day, where my newfound purpose will be put into play. Until then, we’ll pour our souls out into our instruments, full of heart-filled tones.
Thank you for everything and yes, I’ll find a way to see you soon. I mean, you’re family after all ;).
-Ayden
