The 2005 Baja 1000 course map came out by the following weekend. We didn't have GPS points yet, but we had the outline of the course on a scanned map. It was enough to plan the sections I was going to cover each weekend until the race. We decided to hit the northern pacific coast area that weekend, because it would be the cheapest to get to and we were still working with very little money for gas because that month we had to pay for race prep of the bike by Duncan Racing. We looked for a place to leave our truck while we went riding. We found a small home in Santo Tomas with a large fenced off yard with a nice lady who was working outside and asked her if we could leave our truck and trailer with her for the day while we trained. She eagerly said "yes" and then her husband and kids came out and became very enthusiastic with the fact that they were going to be helping out real racers from the Baja 1000. So we gave them rides on our bikes and let them sit on on them while we geared up.

It turns out that our timing was very lucky and we were smart for having chosen this section this weekend because it was the very weekend that Sal Fish and his crew were marking the course and we ran into them in Santo Tomas. We had the opportunity to talk to them and one of the guys with Sal took the time to talk me through the entire course, pointing out the difficult sections, the silt beds, and tipping us on how to strategize our pre-running. He told us this was going to be one of the most difficult courses they had ever done and predicted that only about 38% of the starters would finish this year. Sal, knowing who I was (because I introduced myself to him as his first Ironwoman on a quad for the 2005 Baja 1000 the year before in La Paz), actually took the time to make a call on his satelite phone to see if he could get me my race number since I was not present for the drawing the night before in Lake Elsinore. The course was not officially open yet for pre-running, but they allowed us to follow them as they marked the course and they redirected us to one of the most difficult portions of the race, the section we call the "Lagrimas Hill," (the "Baja California Almanac" topographical map calls it the "Pedregoso" trail) rather than the flat easy sections we were about to explore along the coast (not knowing any better). This is the section that I would be doing at the very end of the race, when I would be most fatigued.

Starting out on this ride I felt like I was part of the excitement to be pre-running while the course was being marked. We ran into other people who were riding in the area and it felt good to be finally training around other people who were affiliated with the race that I had thought about every single day for the past year. We started climbing the mountain from Uruapan and I found that some parts were a little challenging. I was on my DS650 which is the bike that always makes me feel like I am going to tip over when I am climbing or descending steep, technical hills. Then we finally made it to the Lagrimas Hill and when I looked up, I panicked and stalled the bike. Since the bike was already stopped, we got off to study the hill. After walking it, cursing it, and yelling at Sal about it (jokingly) as he drove by, I decided to get back on the bike and try it out. Then my bike would not start. Sal's truck was already out of sight and only a few other motorcycle riders had gone up this part of the trail. Was it prophetic that Sal reminded us that the name "Lagrimas" means "tears" in Spanish as he drove by?

Let me explain the conditions of this moment; the sun was setting, rain was starting to fall, we were 3000 feet up the mountain, 15 miles from the nearest ranch, and the only other vehicle we had was Tim's 2 stroke motorcycle, with no working lights. Can we tow my bike? Of course not, but we wasted time trying anyway using barbed wire lying around at the abandoned Lagrimas Ranch. Should Tim leave me and race back to the truck and then come back? "Heck no," I said...there was major evidence of some very interesting animals I didn't want to be alone with, especially at night. So we finally decided to push my quad into some bushes, leave it behind, and both ride back on Tim's motorcycle. It was a very painful and cold ride. We didn't have jackets and it was very hard keeping my legs up off the ground with no place to put my feet on the bike. We rode for hours into the night with no lights, no moon, and a hard rain to block any vision we might of had. We even had to ride on the highway and through the military checkpoint of Santo Tomas as 2 drenched rats on a bike with no lights and no one even stopped us or asked what the heck we were doing. After a humiliating ride that made me wonder for the first time whether I was going to be able to do this race, we finally made it back to the truck. But then we had to jump in my 2 wheel drive Explorer, towing a small trailer with the motorcycle on it and drive back up the treaturous trail from hell for more punishment.

A two wheel drive vehicle had no business on this part of the course. We had to crawl up the mountain and there was one point where we had to spend a couple of hours digging the truck out, the same place where I almost fell off my quad earlier. But Tim's incredible driving managed to get the Explorer all the way back up to Lagrimas to rescue the quad. When we finally had the quad loaded up on the trailer, it was 1:00 a.m. Monday morning. We were so exhausted, we decided to just sleep right there in the truck until dawn. Because we had no cash left on us, we had to drive back to the border the cheap way; avoiding all toll roads. This route didn't get us across the border until 3:00 p.m., making us miss a day of work and scaring our family by coming home very late for the kids. After picking up the kids from two different locations and getting lectured at by my parents and my sister, we drove straight to the shop to drop off the quad so it could be fixed under warranty again and promised ourselves we would never take a 2 wheel drive vehicle to Mexico again.

So to make the long story short, my pre-runner bike wasn't working anymore, my race bike was in the shop getting race prepped and wasn't to be touched until race day, and I had what I now knew to be a very difficult course to conquer with only 4 weekends left to train. I found a hill I was actually afraid of and I didn't get the opportunity to work on it until I knew I could do it. If I had a tail, it would be between my legs right now. As they say in "Dust to Glory", I had a battle with Baja, and Baja won.

Before leaving the town of Uruapan in Mexico that morning, we stopped for coffee to warm us up on the ride back home. Right outside this store, on the ground, I found a little plastic toy figurine. It was a "Homie" named "Bigfoot." The way the little man was looking at me, the expression on his face, and the stance of his pose, I felt like he was saying to me "Well? So whatya gonna do about it?" I picked him up, slipped him into the front pocket of my riding jacket and told myself I was going to get through this.