WEDNESDAY, JUNE 25, 2025
It had been two months since my first MotoAmerica Super Hooligan round at Michelin Raceway Road Atlanta. By all accounts, it had been an incredibly successful race weekend, capped off with my first top-15 finish and championship points. If I’m being completely honest, I had very mixed feelings going into this next round based on how well I did in the previous one. On the one hand, I had gained some confidence about what I was capable of in this class based on my performance, but I also worried that it may have been a fluke, and the pressure to pull it off again was weighing heavily on me. But my favorite new motto is “pressure is a privilege,” so I did what I could to override the self-defeating thoughts and tried to give myself the hard-won credit I deserved.
Even though it had been a couple of months since the last MotoAmerica round, I had several opportunities to practice and keep my skills sharp. A couple of track day weekends and a regional club race gave me plenty of seat time in preparation for this next round. In fact, just two weeks before this round, I brought my Super Hooligan MT-09 to the Ridge Motorsports Park in Shelton, Washington, where I would be racing this weekend in MotoAmerica. Good thing, too, since I had never ridden the Ridge, and it was not an easy track to learn! The Ridge is known for how incredibly technical it is, with lots of elevation changes, blind crests – both up and down – and probably the scariest, most challenging section of any track I’ve ridden, euphemistically referred to as “The Waterfall,” or “The Little Cork Screw.” This segment of turns at the very end of the 2.47-mile circuit starts with a super sharp, off-camber, steep downhill left turn, followed by a more flowing, down-slope right-hander over asphalt that has been pockmarked by water that seeps up through the surface after heavy rain, and finally into a tight left-hand sweeper that sends you back onto the front straight. More about the role that this tricky twist of turns played in both of my races, later…
The long, full-day drive to Washington started at 4:30 am on Wednesday of race week. It was a pleasant drive, mostly because Shanea, my girlfriend/best friend/ride-or-die/soul mate/and every other silly, romantic, cliché term of endearment, and also our Team Captain, was along for the ride. She wasn’t able to join me at the Road Atlanta round because she was supporting my teammate (and her daughter), Hailey, at a regional race that weekend, so I was incredibly excited to have her company and support for this one.
We arrived at the Ridge Motorsports Park that evening and parked our toy hauler in the staging area, next to the Rahal Ducati Moto team rig, then made a light dinner and tried to get to bed early in anticipation of the busy weekend to come.
THURSDAY, JUNE 26, 2025 – Load In Day
As usual, Load In day was a lot of hurry up and wait. As soon as “Remix Racing” was called from the staging area, I jumped to attention and pulled our rig to the paddock entrance. Apparently, I reached the gate entrance a little more quickly than I was supposed to and effectively “jumped the line,” so I was told to pull aside and let a couple of other teams get by. Somehow, this still worked out well for us, and before long, we were directed to a prime pit spot that was much better than if we had waited our turn, like everyone else. Oh well, they say “a closed mouth don’t get fed,” and I suppose “an overly patient race team gets a lousy pit spot.”
Our entire team for the weekend had arrived, so we had a lot of help. We parked and started unloading the truck and RV, and getting the pit set up for the weekend. In addition to the normal pit amenities, we also set up an impressive mental health awareness exhibit that was Shanea’s brilliant brainchild and would become a huge attraction for fans, spectators, and fellow competitors throughout the weekend.
In the early afternoon, we got the bike tech’ed, I took my headshots, and we attended the rider’s meeting. I brought Hailey with me to all these events, so she could experience them first-hand, in anticipation of becoming a MotoAmerica racer, herself, in the not-too-distant future. I had fun with the headshots, and the photographer allowed me to take a few extra that we planned on using in various social media posts and promotions. Getting the bonus shots also showed Hailey that you’ve gotta ask for what you want – again, “a closed mouth don’t get fed.”
That evening, Shanea prepared the first team dinner of the weekend, and we all relaxed, filled our bellies, and enjoyed each other’s company, knowing that the next few days would be filled with a lot more stress and pressure, so we had to appreciate the downtime when and where we could find it.
FRIDAY, JUNE 27, 2025 – FP and Q1
I don’t sleep all that well on a normal day, but on race weekends, the mix of nerves and excitement makes it nearly impossible to get a full night’s sleep. After a huge cup of coffee and some breakfast, I joined my team in the pit. They were already hard at work getting the bike ready for Super Hooligan Free Practice, which was the first on-track event of the day, scheduled for 9:00 am. We decided that I would go out in FP on my used tires (from the prior weekend’s regional races) and save the freshies for Qualifying session 1 later that afternoon. The bike was ready, tire warmers on and hot, and my Crew Chief, Carbon, made sure the engine was warm and the fuel tank was full. He was also making all the calls based on updates coming from race control on his radio.
At 5 minutes to pit lane open, I started my final preparations – earplugs in, helmet and gloves on. At 2 minutes, I climbed onto the bike while my crew got ready to pull the warmers and stands. At 1 minute, I started the bike, warmers and stands were removed, Hailey gave me a fist bump, Shanea gave me a kiss on my helmet, and Carbon gave me a pat on the back. I pulled out of our pit and rolled through the paddock to the Hot Pit entrance to wait for the marshal to release us.
It’s worth noting that, despite having competed in a couple MotoAmerica races to this point, I was far from fully comfortable with the level of intensity that is infused into all aspects of the experience. Not only are there a seemingly endless number of rules, regulations, and protocols with almost no room for error, but there are fans and cameras everywhere, at all times. I’m sure the more experienced racers are used to this and either know how to tune it all out. But for me, it still feels like I have a huge, blinding spotlight on me and every move I make. I could feel the buzzing of intensity in the air as I pulled up to the group of riders waiting to be released for our first lap of the weekend, and it was electrifying every cell in my body.
The marshal swapped his red flag with a waving green one, and we were off! Fully aware that this is not merely a chance to get some pre-qualifying practice, test the track, the bike, and the riders’ pace, but it’s also an opportunity to engage in psychological warfare against our adversaries. The aggressive intimidation started as soon as we were released, with the fastest riders ripping off down the straight into T1, buzzing each other by inches, trying to get the hole shot as if it really mattered. Never one to shy away from a challenge, I followed suit and let anyone paying attention know that I was here for business!
Prior to this lap, I had only been to this track for two days’ worth of practice, and only one of them with the full MotoAmerica configuration. That was only two weeks prior, but it felt like a lifetime. It was almost as if I had to learn the track all over again, refiguring my braking and tip-in markers, and the ideal gear for each turn and section of the track. Slowly, but surely (emphasis on “slowly”), it was all coming back to me. According to my lap timer, I was WAY off pace the first couple of laps, but picking up speed and dropping full seconds each circuit. Somewhere around my third or fourth lap, still 5 seconds below the times I reached a couple of weeks ago, all corner workers began waving a black flag, seemingly at me. A black flag is an indication that a rider needs to come in and talk to a marshal or race control because of some error, violation, or safety hazard. Some of the towers were also displaying boards with the #43, which is supposed to identify the number of the rider who is being called in. So, I did my best to ignore the flags and stay focused on the job at hand. But they kept waving the flags, and there were no riders close by in front of me, and when I took a quick glance over my shoulder, I didn’t see anyone behind me.
I decided it was better to be safe than sorry and risk some kind of infraction. So, on the next lap, I exited the track into the Hot Pit and checked in with the first marshal I saw. As I should have known, he told me that the flags were for rider #43, not me. Okay, no biggie. I only wasted less than a minute of my 20-minute FP session. In a bit of a hurry to avoid wasting any more time, I made my way through Hot Pit at a brisk pace to the track entrance so that I could re-enter the track.
I ripped down the straight into T1, skipping the chicane, which is a feature toward the end of the front straight for all other laps except our entry to the track from Hot Pit. I took a quick look over my shoulder to see if anyone was flying through the chicane and likely to join me as I merged into the first turn, but the track was clear, so I twisted the throttle and tried to get up to speed as quickly as possible. Heading into T1, I leaned hard to the left, then let the bike drift to the far right of the track so I could square it off for a sharp entry into the uphill T2. I nailed it! However, I failed to get the bike immediately tipped back over to the right for the entry to T3 over the crest of the hill and ran wide to the far left of the apex. Quickly running out of track, I attempted to slow the bike down before I ran off the track and into the grass, but as I ran out of clean asphalt and onto the dirtier, slipperier edge of the track, I got a bit too greedy on the front brake and without any warning at all I was on the floor and careening into the dirt!
It all happened so fast. My airbag deployed, and the bike and I, now separated, both slid off the track and skidded through the grass, finally coming to rest about 20 yards later.
Damn it! What an idiot!
I couldn’t believe I crashed at all, let alone so early in the weekend. I took a moment to check and make sure I was physically okay, and started picking the bike back up while a couple of marshals started running to help. I remounted the bike and got the thumbs up from one of the marshals, then fired the bike back up, checked for any oncoming traffic, and re-entered the track.
Damn it! What an idiot!
At a spirited pace, but definitely not a hot one, I made my way around the remainder of the track and exited, then headed back to my pit. After crashing, whether returning to the pit on a crash truck or riding in on my own power, the trip through the paddock feels like a “ride of shame.” Especially at this level, and with all the eyes on my every move, I was embarrassed and humiliated. Most of all, I was so angry with myself for making such a clumsy mistake. Sure, we’ve all made them, and many other riders would certainly suffer the same fate before the weekend was over, but I had earned the honor of being the very first crash of the round. Congratulations to me!
But wait, there’s more! After I dismounted and got my helmet and gloves off, Carbon let me know that he learned about the crash on his radio from race control, and apparently, what they said was, “Rider 417 down at turn 3. Rider and bike are up. But to add insult to injury, Rider 417 also has an infraction for speeding in Hot Pit.” Yes, injury PLUS insult! Well, I guess in addition to being the first to crash, I was also the first rider to earn a violation for the weekend. I might not win either of my races this weekend, but at least I was first in something! Better yet, we would eventually come to learn that I was not only the first rider to earn an infraction, but I would also hold the title of fastest speeding ticket in the Hot Pit for the remainder of the weekend. First and Fastest!
Damn it! What an idiot! The weekend was definitely not off to a great start.
I left the bike in the very capable hands of my crew so they could inspect and repair the damage. My next session was Qualifying 1 in a few hours, so they had plenty of time.
I climbed into the RV, still pumped full of adrenaline, but also weighed down by disappointment, anger, and frustration. I’m not proud to admit this, but when this type of on-track catastrophe happens, especially when it’s my fault (and I always attribute at least some aspect of a crash to rider error), I experience an intensely profound sense of failure – not just about what I did and what happened, but also about who I am as a racer. Intellectually, I know that this is just part of my process. It results from a combination of being a fierce competitor, a generally intense person, and also being someone who has been challenged with mental health issues my entire life. I believe that these self-defeating, self-deprecating thoughts are fairly typical among racers, but that I experience them in such a disproportionately heavy and painful way. It’s as if these toxic thoughts crawl up my spine and worm their way deep into my brain. I try to resist them – to outthink them – but it’s a battle with my demons that feels all-consuming.
Unfortunately – or fortunately? – I have had a lot of experience with having to rebound from crashes and other mistakes. In the moment, it can be hard for me to tap into that experience and the assuredness that I always bounce back, and often go on to achieve or even exceed my performance goals, particularly when the demons are raging. But no one knows this about me better than Shanea. She knows me – knows my soul – at the deepest level. She can read me empathically and know precisely what I’m feeling, and has a seemingly magical knack for telling me exactly what I need to hear, and healing my painful disappointment and self-doubt. With her at my side, the demons are outmatched.
She told me, “You’ve been here before and you’ve got this! Shake it off. You belong here, and you know what you have to do.” In these situations, she always manages to strike the perfect balance between girlfriend and Team Captain!
So, that’s precisely what I did. I licked my wounds, sucked it up, and beat back the demons that had wormed their way into my psyche. I returned to the pit and apologized to my team for the crash. Of course, they all told me not to worry – the bike was fine and would be ready for the next session, so all I needed to do was get myself ready. I love those guys!
A few hours later, I was suited and booted, back on the bike, and sent out to the Hot Pit by my team. I was ready to put the morning’s crash behind me, make up for lost time, and earn my way onto the grid. I never got fully up to speed in FP and hadn’t completed a qualifying lap time, so I had no time to waste. The plan was to get off to a quick start and use all of the 20-minute qualifying session to log some hot lap times.
Well, they say if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans!
As I rolled into the Hot Pit, I immediately noticed something was wrong with the steering of the bike. I glanced down and saw that the handlebars – the entire front end, actually – were completely misaligned! Like, totally crooked!!! Somehow, I failed to notice this when I rode the bike back to the pit after the crash. Understandable, given I was probably still in a bit of adrenaline-filled shock. We also didn’t catch the problem when the bike was on the stands during all the repairs. Carbon even had me sit on the bike and check the position of the replacement bars he had installed, but without riding it, there was no way I was going to notice the issue.
Nevertheless, it was unavoidably obvious now! And there couldn’t be a worse time to discover it! We were about to be released onto the track for a relatively short, 20-minute qualifying session, which absolutely no time to make any additional repairs or adjustments. I had to decide and make it quick – either I play it safe and return to the pit, burning the first of only two qualifying sessions, and not having a single confidence-inspiring lap the entire day, or I suck it up and find a way to ride around the problem. This would mean having a huge impediment to my performance at the very least, not to mention a very high likelihood that I would be ripping around the track at breakneck speeds on a bike that was potentially going to be an impossible-to-control death trap!
Well, if you know me, you know that playing it safe isn’t in my DNA. Besides, safe is slow, and I had too much to lose not to try and make the best of this disaster. So, I turned off the “oh shit” alarm going off in my head, took a deep breath, and decided to freakin’ send it!
We were released onto the track, and I peeled back the throttle. As crooked as the front end was, there was definitely nothing wrong with the engine. In fact, everything seemed surprisingly fine…that is, until I entered turn 1. Holy cow, was the bike hard to steer! As much as I should have anticipated the steering problem, it actually caught me by surprise, and I had to back off the throttle slightly to keep from running off the track. The next several turns – in fact, the first couple laps – it took everything I had to keep the bike on the racing line. And, to do it, I wasn’t even close to a decent lap time. But one of my favorite mantras, especially when it comes to racing, is “adapt and overcome!” So, that’s precisely what I did.
I started figuring out how to ride around the wonky steering and managed to adjust my riding style to compensate. With each passing lap, I got more comfortable and a lot faster! I glanced down at my lap timer each time I crossed the start/finish, and by the 3rd lap I was already laying down personal best times, comfortably in the qualifying range. But I wasn’t done. I kept pushing and continued to drop time, finally achieving a lap time more than a second below my previous best. On my final hot lap, however, I got a little too greedy and almost dumped the bike coming into the final section. Nope, not again! One crash today was more than enough, so I threw my hand in the air to signal to the riders behind me that I was exiting the track, and decided to quit while I was ahead.
I made my way back through the paddock heading toward the pit, when I heard someone yelling my name. I looked to see who it was and saw Carbon frantically waving me toward Parc Ferme. Duh!! After all that hard work, I almost got another sanction, possibly even disqualified from the entire session, for failing to follow protocol. Like I said, there are so many inflexible rules and regulations at this level of racing, and by all accounts, I was still very much a rookie! Fortunately, I was able to make the detour and safely into Parc Ferme, where I was greeted by my team.
After quickly pulling my helmet and gloves off, we all celebrated my lap times, but more so the incredible comeback we had all made after the disastrous morning. As deep and dark as the battle with my demons had been, the elation – pure ecstasy – of this achievement was equally as intense in the other direction. What a triumph and what a ride – both literally and figuratively!
Once again, as Shanea knew better than I or anyone, when I get out of my head and just do what I’m capable of, I can overcome almost any challenge and achieve my goals. I was so incredibly proud that I had pulled this off, but it wasn’t lost on me for a moment that I couldn’t have done it without Shanea and the rest of our team. And for that, I was not only grateful but inspired to keep the momentum going throughout the rest of the race weekend! We had so much more to accomplish, and we would have to stay at the top of our game to get it done!
But that could all wait until tomorrow. For the rest of this day, we had all earned a good meal and a relaxing evening, full of great stories of our trials and tribulations, and how once again, we managed to adapt and overcome!
SATURDAY, JUNE 28, 2025 – Q2 and Race 1
The Saturday schedule gave us a late start to the 2nd qualifying session. Super Hooligans would be on track at 11:20 am, allowing us plenty of time to sleep in (whatever that means – I can’t sleep late on a normal day, but race day? Forget about it!), to relax, enjoy breakfast and each other’s company, and make all the final preparations for the bike. Of course, Carbon has worked long and late to get the front end sorted back out and used Saturday morning to put on a few finishing touches.
With all my pre-ride preparation rituals complete, and a couple of minutes before the track goes green, I mounted the bike, the team removed the warmers and stands, I got my customary kiss from Shanea and fist bump from Hailey, and made my way to the Hot Pit.
The session was relatively uneventful. I managed to pull off a few decent lap times, but didn’t improve over Q1. Unfortunately, some of my competitors did, bumping me back a few spaces on the grid. After the combined qualifying times were tabulated, I had earned P19 on the grid for the races. Not great, but not bad, and a spot closer to the front than in the previous round. Nevertheless, working my way into a top-15, points-paying position wasn’t guaranteed by any means.
When I decided to throw my hat in the ring and enter the 2025 MotoAmerica Super Hooligan National Championship, I had somewhat muted expectations. Of course, I hoped to make the grid for each of the four rounds I would be competing in. Beyond that, I set my sights on finishing my races, “not last.”
The previous year, when I raced in the Supersport class at Laguna Seca, I qualified 29th out of 30 on the grid, and finished 26th and 25th, but I was the last rider to cross the finish line, only advancing my position due to other riders crashing or otherwise retiring early. It was, nevertheless, a huge, triumphant accomplishment by any measure, especially given all the circumstances – my first MotoAmerica race, and in one of the premier classes, not to mention that I was suffering from a severe cold (Covid??) that made it hard to breathe and left me weak and exhausted. Still, as incredible as it was to make the grid and complete two races in Supersport, I wanted to have much more fun this year and really soak in and fully enjoy the experience.
This season, I was not only a more experienced rider, but I also carefully chose the Super Hooligan class so that I could race in a slightly less competitive class. I didn’t expect it to be easy, by any means, given the challenge of learning an entirely new bike and riding style, and several tracks I had never been on. I also knew I would have to contend with the growing popularity of the class, which was attracting faster, more experienced riders, more factory teams with immense budgets, more competitive bikes, and an excessively large entry list for every race. It seemed that a lot of racers hoped that entering the Super Hooligan National Championship would be as easily done as said, but many had no idea how much more challenging it would be to compete in the class this year, compared to the previous several years. Tighter competition meant more entrants were getting eliminated by race day, so simply earning a spot on the grid was turning out to be an accomplishment in and of itself.
I therefore had every reason to temper my expectations leading into this year’s championship. But after my performance in my first race weekend, my bar had been set just a bit higher than simply making the grid. I now knew that scoring championship points was a possibility.
I almost can’t believe I just wrote that!! Championship points at MotoAmerica??? That requires being one of the 15 fastest riders in my class in the entire country! I’m still not used to that, and to be honest, I hope I never get used to it!
So, here I was again, starting my races several spots out of the points-paying positions, facing an uphill battle to make my way into the top 15. Shanea, Carbon, and the rest of my team seemed to think I could pull it off, but they tend to have far more confidence in me than I have in myself. I love those guys!
Race 1 was at the very end of the Saturday schedule, giving the team plenty of time to relax, enjoy the day, and get the bike as fully prepared for competition as possible. For me, however, it was just more time to be nervous and wrestle with my demons, but I did my best to stay out of my head and soak in the moment. I had a light lunch and also took a quick tour of the paddock, visiting other teams’ pits, reconnecting with old friends, making some new ones, and even doing a little fan engagement, especially when anyone stopped by to see Shanea’s amazing mental health awareness exhibit. Best of all, she and Hailey caught the attention of a podcaster, Janelle from “Driven by Janelle,” who invited them to an interview at her booth in the fan zone. I went with them and was so proud of the inspiring on-camera interview they gave, not to mention thrilled about all the extra publicity they were giving to The Remix Racing Project and our cause.
But my anxiety was buzzing just below the surface, and I honestly couldn’t wait to get back on track and see if I still had what it takes to compete at this level and pull off another successful performance.
Finally, the time had arrived. I went through all my pre-race preparation routines – a series of stretching, including eye-stretches, getting suited and booted, peeing (several times), earplugs in, helmet and gloves on. Then, with the call from Carbon, I mounted and started the bike. Warmers and stands off, a kiss from Shanea, a fist bump from Hailey, and I rolled out to Hot Pit.
This was it. Everything I had worked for. All the years of practice and preparation, blood, sweat, tears, and sacrifice. And especially the demon chasing. Moments from now, it was all going to coalesce into an 8-lap test of skill and talent, speed and race craft, against some of the fastest riders in the country. Did I belong here? We were about to find out.
I pulled through the Hot Pit and made my way into the crowded field of racers, all waiting to be released for our sighting lap. I intentionally “barged” my way into the middle of the pack to let everyone know the gloves are coming off and I’m ready to fight. As soon as the marshal traded his red flag for a waving green one, we all took off and ripped down the front straight and into T1. As usual, I used the sighting lap to get my bike, body, and mind up to speed, put some heat in the tires, and show my competitors that I’m here for business.
As I come out of the final turn and head toward the starting grid, I see Shanea waiting for me at spot #19. Seeing her smiling, excited face, I knew that everything was right in the world, and just as it should be. She catches me, then grabs my helmet and plants a wet one on me. The horn sounds, and she gives me a high-five before running toward a small ladder at the K-wall, where she exits the track to watch from Hot Pit.
Moments later, the marshal waves another green flag, and we all take off for our warmup lap. In the Super Hooligan class, we use a “quick start procedure,” which includes a sighting lap, a warmup lap, and then the race start. This is an alternative to a “pro start” which also includes several minutes following the sighting lap where bikes are put on stands and warmers at their grid spot, supported by a small crew contingent (along with an optional umbrella girl…or guy), and interviews for a bunch of the front runners.
Following our warmup lap, each of us slots back into our grid spots and gets into position to (literally) get this show on the road!
Lights on.
Lights out.
LAUNCH!!
I get a decent start, but by the time we hit the chicane, I’m swallowed up in a tight grouping of racers all vying for precious real estate on the super-tight race line. As we rip through this initial twist left, then right, we peel out of the chicane toward turn 1. My heart rate bounces off the rev limiter as a flood of adrenaline slams through my veins and lights up my nervous system. There has been almost nothing in my life more thrilling than the start of a race, especially at this level!
The intensity of the moment makes it almost impossible to think straight, so at this point, I’m running on pure instinct, relying on skills I have honed over my relatively brief racing career. I have never ridden a track as technical as the Ridge, so I was going to need every bit of skill I could muster, not just to avoid another crash, but to stay in the hunt for a decent result, not to mention those elusive championship points.
I enter the swooping, early apex of T1, which bends to the left, then drift to the far right of the track to set up entry to T2, a sharp, uphill left turn. I square off my line and dive into the turn, feeling my suspension compress as the bike slams into the rise at the bottom of the hill. I quickly flip the bike back over to the right and crest over the first of many blind turns. Leaning hard into the apex of T3, the suspension lightens as the track drops back down to the left again, then over a blind, downhill undulation into T4. I hit the apex perfectly, then let the bike drift to the far right, at full left-lean, and into T5 to finish off the double-apex left-hander. Then, a hard drive up a gentle slope to set up for the long, left-handed, decreasing-radius sweeper of T6. The entry to this turn requires patience, and once I’m in position, suspension fully compressed and steady, knee down, I raise my eyes to the exit of the turn and prepare to stand the bike back up and rip the throttle.
T6 spits me out onto a short straight with just enough distance to flip the bike back over to the right before swooping down over T7, where the bike literally drops out from underneath me and my butt temporarily leaves the seat, before gracefully but aggressively slamming back down to brake for the entry into the tight right-handed T8. I enter a few feet from the apex, then settle the bike to lean hard into a right sweeper that sets me up to hit the apex of T9, a right turn that shoots me up a gentle-sloping hill to another blind crest at T10, and past a jam-packed stadium section full of cheering fans. I cheat as far left as I can before flicking the bike back to the right over the top of the hill, with the throttle still fully pinned. I hold the throttle wide open for as long as I can, then quickly but gingerly roll off, grab the brake, and drop a gear to set up for the super sharp, left-handed T11. As the track spits me out of the turn, I pick the bike back up to charge down the 50 yards to T12. The front tire lifts off the tarmac while I’m flipping my body and bike back to the right, then heavy trail braking into the turn, hitting the apex as late as possible. I get the bike stood up, full gas, and grab another gear as I race toward the ”Waterfall.” I work my way to the far right edge of the track, grab a handful of brakes and downshift back to 2nd gear, then square off the turn as sharply as possible, drop into the tight left, off-camber, fall-away apex of T13. Nailed it! Then I flick the bike back to the right with a quick twist of throttle, swing down T14, then back to the left again into the final, tight sweeper of T15. Timing is everything as I drift away from the apex, then back again, and pick the perfect moment to stand the bike back up, get to full throttle, short shift to keep my front tire down, and bend the bike back to the right and over the inside rumble strip to enter the front straight. Head down, I drive hard to the start/finish to complete my first race lap of the weekend!
As I charged down the straight, clicking through the gears, then under the bridge and far to the right to start my braking for the left-hand entry into the chicane, I was chasing #16, AJ Peaslee, who started one grid position in front of me and had thus far kept me behind him. AJ was on a beautiful, brand-new Ducati Street Fighter that had been getting a lot of attention for being the latest new addition to the growing variety of Super Hooligan bike entries, not to mention how freaking clean and sexy it looked. And AJ was fast at the Ridge! He now lives in Austin, TX, but was formerly from Washington and had a lot of laps here. But today I had pace on him. His bike definitely had more motor than my MT-09, as evidenced by the gap he would stretch at every straight, but I would easily close back in on him into the turns. In fact, I almost ran into him at the entry to the chicane and had to back off to leave room for both of us to make it through cleanly. I chased him for the next couple of laps, with the gap growing and shrinking like an accordion with every turn.
A couple of times, I tried to set him up to make an inside pass, including into the downhill, cambered T8, following the steep drop off where my bike falls out from under me. I broke later than AJ, taking a wider entry into the turn to dive underneath him. For a moment, I thought I was going to make the pass of a lifetime with the thinnest margin of track, but sensing my encroachment on the stake he was making for the race line, he stuffed me by hitting the apex and closing off any opportunity I had to pass. Crafty!! I had to briefly check up and slot back in behind him to look for a new passing opportunity.
We continued to battle, and he managed to thwart my next couple of attempts to pass. Finally, just when I thought I had set him up perfectly for a pass into the 2nd turn of the chicane, he stuffed my line so tight I had to run the bike through a small patch of asphalt just outside the curbing, technically off the track. For a moment, I thought we were going to collide, or at least that I would have to bail and dump the bike to avoid him. I managed to check up and keep the bike rubber-side-down, but just barely, and I completely lost all my exit drive! Before I was able to get back up to speed, AJ had increased his advantage to about a second, entering T1 while I was still getting back on the race line out of the chicane. Damn it, that was close!
Unfortunately, losing time to AJ wasn’t even the worst part. Before I was back up to pace, #811, Andrew Berkley, took advantage of my close call and blitzed past me into the first turn! Damn it, again!
Well, there were still a couple of laps left, so I put my head down, determined to take back my position from Andrew and get on with the challenge of finding my way around AJ. But I had to make my move quickly, before AJ put an insurmountable distance between us. I knew I was faster than Andrew, so I jumped onto his tail, picked my moment, and overtook him before the end of that lap.
Now it was AJ’s turn! As we started the penultimate lap, I drew close heading into the chicane. This time, I was careful not to rush the overtake and simply followed him closely to make sure I would be in position when the moment presented itself. I stayed on him for the next several turns, clearly faster than him, but not wanting to make another clumsy attempt at a pass. AJ was not only fast, but his race craft was next level, and I would have to outsmart him if I had any chance of gaining the position.
As we entered the heavy braking zone into T11, I drifted to the far right of the track to get my bike turned before his, allowing me to stand it up sooner and get a better exit drive. Perfect! I was able to draw him in by the end of the short straight, and with the same technique as the prior turn, I set up a cleaner drive out of T12, full throttle just a beat before he could get on his. I chose the outside pass, not only gun-shy from getting stuffed at the apex so many times, but also because I knew that drawing alongside him to his left would position me for the perfect block pass into T13, the entry to the Waterfall. I executed my plan flawlessly! Best of all, I did it in front of one of the packed grandstands, giving the fans the show they came for!
We drag raced, side-by-side, into the braking zone, then with perfect positioning, I dipped into T13, completing the pass, then flowed through the rest of the lap with no way for him to retake the position! Awesome!!
I raced down the front straight and past the white flag, knowing that I had pace on him and was much faster through all the turns, starting with the chicane. So, I broke as late as possible, ripped through the chicane, then spent the rest of the lap consolidating my position by squeezing every advantage I could, at every turn.
At the end of the last lap, I threw the bike over the inside curbing and onto the front straight for the final time. Head down, throttle wide open, clicking through the gears, and past the checkered flag!! I stayed on the throttle past the line to leave nothing to chance, then took a deep breath, grabbed the brakes, and entered the chicane as I started my cooldown lap. As I exited the chicane, I took a brief look over my shoulder and saw AJ pulling up to me. Classy as ever, he reached out to shake my hand in congratulations. What a battle. Win or lose, I always love a good on-track fight. Today was my day, but I would have to keep an eye out for AJ, since dishing out payback is a close 2nd to winning the first battle.
I cruised around the track, waving at all the marshals and turn workers, and also the thousands of fans in the grandstands. I was finally able to relax and really take in the moment. I did it! I not only completed my first MotoAmerica Super Hooligan race at the Ridge, but I did it in style, winning a super intense battle on the penultimate lap!
I was so focused on chasing down AJ that I had absolutely no idea what position I finished in. Regardless, I had definitely achieved my goal. I had finished, not last! I pulled into Parc Ferme where Shanea, Carbon, and a couple other members of my team were waiting. Carbon put the bike on its rear stand, I dismounted, and removed my gloves and helmet.
Shanea didn’t waste any time. “You got 14th!!!” She wrapped me in a tight, congratulatory hug. I did what?!?! Not just a point, but two! I almost couldn’t believe it. I finished hugging Shanea, then hugged Carbon. We did it! Another incredible race with a points-paying finish. Maybe the last round wasn’t a fluke. Maybe I belong here after all.
We had already planned a huge team dinner for Saturday, but the food couldn’t have tasted any sweeter. We all basked in the success of the day and enjoyed a great meal, excellent company, and tall tales about our on and off-track excursions.
After dinner, Roland Sands stopped by our pit to invite us to the Super Hooligan afterparty. He was impressed with our mental health exhibit and learning about why we ride. He shared about his own spiritual journey, and connected with us and our mission on a pretty deep level. We eventually made our way to the party and got to catch up with AJ, Andrew, and other Super Hooligan racers. The camaraderie was awesome and gave me such an appreciation for the people I was competing with – on-track rivals, paddock allies.
SUNDAY, JUNE 29, 2025 – Warmup and Race 2
The Sunday schedule gave us a mid-morning warm-up session, and ours would be the first race of the day at high noon. The only significant change to the bike was fresh brake pads, since I complained to Carbon about having trouble getting the bike stopped in yesterday’s race. Pads installed, the plan was to use the very brief 10-minute warm-up session to bed them in and test all my braking markers, rather than trying to lay down any super-hot laps.
I dropped my pace by a couple of seconds per lap, which was fast enough to achieve our goal of breaking in the brakes and resetting my markers, but slow enough not to take any unnecessary risks. It seemed that my rivals all had similar plans for their session, since no one was riding at record pace.
Thanks to the earlier race, I wouldn’t have to wait as long as I did between yesterday’s sessions, but Sunday is also Fan-day, and in addition to the Parade Laps and the Two Seat Superbike rides, the Hot Pit Walk and Autograph session was also a fan–and rider–favorite. Unfortunately for me, this round’s Fan Walk filled the final schedule spot before the races, which meant that I would have to leave early to run back to the pit to get ready for my race.
I don’t think I’ll ever get used to being treated like a celebrity at these events, but they sure are fun as hell, and I absolutely love them! Fans of all ages stop by our booth to talk with me, take pictures with me, grab a bunch of schwag, and have me sign fan posters, stickers, T-shirts, helmets, and even take off tires!
Shanea, in addition to being our Team Captain, as well as playing so many other key roles, is also a marketing genius! She took the opportunity to open our Remix Racing and Truth Be Told Apparel-branded umbrella and stand in the middle of the fan traffic to draw attention to our team and rider booth. It was working, of course – probably just ‘cause she’s so damn hot! In any case, she not only helped direct more fans to our booth, she even caught the eye of Michael Hill, the host of the MotoAmerica Live+ “Mike On The Mic” live, national TV feed. Much to Shanea’s surprise, Mike slipped under her umbrella and into an improv interview! And she handled it like a seasoned pro!! She was adorable, smart, and funny. Mike asked if she was representing the rider who was next to us in the Hot Pit, and without hesitation, she said, “No, I’m with The Remix Racing Project and Jeremy Taubman, #417!” Perfect!!
I would have loved to keep interacting with the fans and soaking in the full spectacle of the event, but a few minutes later, Shanea told me that Carbon was calling back to our pit to get ready for the race.
By the time I had completed all my pre-race rituals, got dressed and ready, and mounted the bike, my entire team was back in the pit. I got my customary kiss, fist bump, and pats on the back, then rolled out through the paddock and into the Hot Pit to wait to be released for our sighting lap.
After being greeted at my P19 grid spot by Shanea, followed by a bonus kiss and high five, we took our warm-up lap and regridded. I was in the same grid spot as yesterday’s race, but for Race 2, the spot two rows in front of me was empty, since #12 Nate Kern had apparently crashed the prior day, ending his race weekend early. A quick mental calculation, and I realized I would now only need to advance 3 positions to earn another championship point.
Head down, chest down, elbows out, steady revs.
Lights on, throttle back, revs up!
Lights out, clutch out, launch!
My bike surged underneath me as I peeled off the grid. I wound up first gear to the limiter before shifting. It felt like I got a great launch, but I was quickly swallowed up in traffic heading into the chicane and lost at least one position. As we all crammed our way through this super-tight section of track, #310, Rodney Vest, who started on the opposite end of my grid row, was attempting to dive underneath me into the right-handed 2nd kink of the chicane. I noticed him just in time to see him wash out his front wheel, and bowl his way into traffic, heading right toward me. Evasive action!! I barely missed him, but #811, Andrew Berkely, wasn’t so lucky! Andrew would eventually rejoin the race, but Rodney’s race was over before he even reached T1 of the first lap.
Okay, that was close! Time to regroup. Head down, throttle open, the chase is on!
I had started the race needing only 3 positions to reach the top-15, but after the chaotic start, I had my work cut out for me, and would have to pull off a few extra overtakes. Within the fist couple laps I had made my way to the back of the fight between my rival from Race 1, AJ, and also #72, Jeff Lane, who was a local with a lot more experience on this track, and was much faster and more competitive here than I remembered him being at Road Atlanta.
The two of them were having a proper battle, and at least by the time I caught up with them, Jeff had the advantage. So, just like the prior day, I would have to outsmart AJ to get by him, if I had any chance of getting in front of this fight and giving myself a chance for a decent finish. Much easier said than done!
Like yesterday, AJ was not only fast but clever. Catching him was the (relatively) easy part. Passing him was another story altogether. Having learned my lesson from Race 1, I avoided the temptation to make an inside pass, knowing how tight he takes an apex. I would have to find my way past him either around the outside, down a straight, or into a braking zone.
I decided to make my first attempt sliding down the roller coaster drop into the right-handed T8. I took the turn a little wide to square it off and get an earlier drive than AJ into the turn, with the plan to make my way around him on the outside. I caught him quickly, and it seemed I might pull off the overtake – more dangerous on the outside, given that I was in his blind spot, and if he washed out, he would be taking me with him. I kept my line tight to his left to make sure I had a clean entry into the next turn, but AJ took a wider line than I expected, quickly closing off any margin of error I was hoping to keep between our bikes. Clack!! As he swung out to his left, he made contact with my right-side handlebar, nearly knocking my brake lever guard off the bar end. Well, at least it did its job, preventing my front brakes from activating and launching me to the moon! But the impact was enough to cause me to careen off his bike and nearly lose control. I got loose, gently stood the bike back up, briefly rolled off the throttle, then regained control of the bike and my composure. Wow, that was close!
As a result of the contact, AJ and Jeff had pulled a small gap that I would have to close all over again, then formulate a new plan of attack. Fortunately, after a not-so-stellar start to the race, I was quickly back in top form and full attack mode. Within the next couple of laps, I made my way back to AJ and Jeff, picked my spots, and got by both of them! Regrettably, the slow start, followed by all the battles, left me with an insurmountable distance to my next rival, #513, Adan Mendoza. Not that I had much chance of beating him on this track anyway, given that he was another local with a ton of experience at the Ridge, and was a couple of seconds per lap faster. So, my best hope was that consolidating my new position, along with any DNF’s in front of me, would be enough to make the top 15.
I pushed hard for the next couple of laps to make sure that I put a comfortable margin between me and Jeff. At one point, I looked over my shoulder and didn’t see him, or any bike, for that matter. As I raced down the front straight for the penultimate time and saw the waving white flag, I was certain that I owned my position heading into the final lap. Well, I guess I must have looked over the wrong shoulder, because as I was braking for the chicane, a bit more casually than usual since I thought I had my position in the bag, Jeff flies out of nowhere, dives to the inside of the track, and beats me into the entrance of the chicane. You’ve gotta be kidding me!! Where did he come from?!
I followed Jeff through the chicane and out the other side. Man, he was fast! He managed to stretch a gap of at least half a second by the time he entered T1. I was momentarily overcome with the sinking feeling that I was going to lose my position, and on the final lap. On my list of worst-case scenarios while racing, this wasn’t exactly at the top, but it was pretty damned close!
But there was no time to feel sorry for myself. I quickly shook off the self-deprecating and self-defeating thoughts. I had passed him once, so I could do it again. The only question was whether there was enough time left. Fortunately, I had spent several laps chasing him earlier in the race to have a sense of where he was faster, and where I might have the edge.
He was definitely stronger in the first couple of sectors, and I had to ride the wheels off my bike just to keep him in my sights. But shooting out of T6, the decreasing radius left-handed sweeper, I managed to get my bike stood up early and rip the throttle wide open. Visibly closing the gap, I flipped the bike back over to the right through T7, then dropped down the slope into T8. I managed to climb right onto Jeff’s tail as we entered this series of right-handers, allowing me to set him up into the heavy braking zone before T11. As I had done in other overtakes throughout the weekend, I took a wide entry in order to square off the turn and get onto the throttle early. It also helped that Jeff took a tight, defensive line, clearly aware that I was preparing a pass.
As we shot out of the turn and down the short straight to T12, I closed up as tight on his tail as I could, then used the same strategy from the previous turn with a plan of diving underneath him to the apex.
Jeff wasn’t having any of it! He closed off the line, stuffing my entry and forcing me onto the inside curbing! Aggressive, but smart! I was already committed to the pass and leaned hard into the turn, carving through the inches of track he left for me. We were side-by-side going into the turn, millimeters from touching. For a moment, I thought we might collide, ending both our races before we had a chance to settle who wanted it more. Apparently, he also thought a crash was inevitable because he checked up just in time, allowing us to barely, but safely, make the turn.
The close call was enough to blow both our exit drives, so it was going to be a slow rolling start to our drag race into the Waterfall. Fortunately, I had the slightly better drive out of the turn, so I enjoyed a moment of optimism, but it was short-lived. Again, winning these battles is as much about race craft as it is about speed, and Jeff is certainly a crafty one! Knowing that I would likely beat him to the next turn, Jeff shifted his line to the left, giving himself the best shot at a block pass into T13 at the top of the Waterfall. Apparently, he was taking a page from the playbook I used against AJ in Race 1. Well played!
This was my last chance to make a pass, and the only way it was going to happen was if I got far enough in front of him before the turn to keep him behind me, rather than allow him to steal my line to the apex. So, I stayed heavy on the throttle for as long as I possibly could. I made it past him and shifted slightly to the left to try and block his path, but both of these tactics combined meant that I was coming into the most technical part of the track WAY too hot, and with a far-from-ideal entry into the turn. I waited as long as I could, full-throttle, before grabbing a handful of front brakes, much deeper into the braking zone than I had all weekend long.
Please stop. Please stop! I was quickly running out of track and had to slow the bike enough to make the turn, and quickly! Thank God we installed the new brake pads! Just before I reached the top of the Waterfall, I tried to trail my braking into the turn as gently as I possibly could. But it seemed I had left my braking just a bit too late! As I entered the tight, off-camber drop off, I was still slightly too heavy on the brakes, and my front tire locked up and slipped out from underneath me! Oh shit! A front-end washout in the final sector of the final lap of the final race of the weekend would be the absolute worst way for this to end!
But I refused to give in to the crash. I became as light and nimble on the bike as I could, allowing it to roll back into an upright position underneath me. Feathering the brakes as softly as I could muster, still almost certain I might run off the track, I tried to regain control of the bike while simultaneously slowing and leaning it through the turn. Holy cow, I might save this after all!
As I ran out of track to the outside of the turn, I found myself skirting along the right-side curbing. But little by little, inch by inch, I was somehow able to regain control of the bike and barely managed to correct my line, just in time to get back on the throttle and roll into the next turn. God damn, that was close!
But it wasn’t over yet. Barely making the turn also meant that I blew my line, and I knew that Jeff had cheated left to take a nice, tight turn into this section, which would put him underneath me through the apex of T13. And, if he was fast enough, he would blow right by me with only two turns left. My only chance now was to keep him on my left, which was the outside of T14, and use my roll speed to push him off the race line so I could block his entry into the final turn. Well, it wasn’t pretty, but it worked!
I entered the final turn in the lead and knew I had to do everything perfectly to finish off the lap in front. Hard lean, knee down, eyes forward, waiting for the perfect moment to pick the bike back up and hammer the throttle. Mission accomplished!
As I drove over the inside curbing of the right-hand kink that spit me out onto the front straight, I tucked as tight as I could and focused solely on my tachometer, rather than the track. I needed to hit my shift points with precision to get every ounce of drive to the finish line. Just as my tach flashed red, 3rd gear! Then, 4th! In my peripheral I caught a glimpse of the waving checkered flag in front of me to the right. I was only meters away. Feet away. Inches away. FINISH LINE!!!
I stayed on the throttle for a few extra beats to make sure I didn’t leave anything to chance, and just as I let off, Jeff came flying by me! Where the hell was he during the drive to the checker? Behind me? Alongside me? Who crossed it first?!
As we exited the chicane on our cool-down lap, I pulled up next to him and we shook hands and congratulated each other. Win or lose, this was one of the best, most intense battles I’d ever had on a race track, and we certainly gave the fans their money’s worth!
Jeff took the lead through the next section as we waved to all the corner workers and marshals. Just before we cruised through T6, I caught up with him and gestured, “You or me? Who won?” He pointed at me, then gave me a thumbs up. I did it! It was close, but I somehow managed to hold my position to the line. Who knows what would have happened if Jeff had a few extra meters of track? Thank goodness we didn’t have to find out!
As we passed all the fan-filled bleacher sections, we got a standing ovation for our efforts. I waved and blew kisses to show my appreciation for the fans and all their support. We finished off our cool-down lap and made our way to Parc Ferme, where my entire team was waiting for me. They were all wearing ear-to-ear smiles, but also looked almost as relieved as I felt that I not only won the battles, but didn’t die in the process!
As soon as my helmet and gloves were off, I was covered in hugs, fist bumps, and congratulations. Once again, I had no idea what position I finished in, perhaps even more than usual, given how focused I was chasing down my rivals and paying almost no attention to anything else. If I’m being honest, even if I finished outside of the points and had slower lap times than Race 1, I would have still been thrilled with the results. There’s almost nothing better than a last-lap pass, and whatever position I finished in was the most hard-won of my racing career. So, when Shanea told me I finished P14, and with my best lap of the weekend, my head nearly exploded!
We grabbed each other in another celebratory embrace, hopping around like we just won the lottery! I kept dancing even after she let go. Another amazing moment on this magical MotoAmerica journey we were on!
I made my way over to Jeff to thank him for such a great race, and he congratulated me on my victory, which I won by the narrowest of margins, which turned out to be only 0.05 seconds! Jeff is a great racer, but also a very classy guy. I’m grateful I got to share the track with him, and I’m looking forward to our next epic battle.
SUNDAY, JUNE 29, 2025 – Post Race
For the rest of the afternoon, we all basked in the serotonin-infused euphoria of another successful race weekend. There were more paddock excursions, other races to watch, and visits to the Fan Zone, where I bought a bunch of “thank you” schwag for the team. And we enjoyed retelling all the on and off-track stories that made the weekend such a magical one.
Before the day was over, Shanea and I were even interviewed on a live podcast, “Ducati Dads,” and got to tell their audience about The Remix Racing Project and why we ride. We highlighted our mission to fight mental health and addiction stigma, and all the ways we try to positively impact the lives of people surviving mental illness and addiction, in the racing community and beyond. The interview was just one more reminder that what we are building is so much bigger than any one of us, and more important than just the racing, which is saying something, because the racing was AWESOME!!!
Finally packed up and loaded, we headed out, leaving the Ridge in our rearview, but deeply embedded in our hearts and memories. It was a long drive home, leaving us plenty of time to continue our “basking” and storytelling. With another amazing MotoAmerica race weekend in the books, we couldn’t wait for the next one. Fortunately, we wouldn’t have to wait long, as our next round, at the iconic Weathertech Raceway Laguna Seca, was only two weeks away!
