Page 40 - ISSUE 40

JORDON SMITH
250 SX / 4TH
IMAGE /MPG WORDS / MATTINGLY DESIGN / WILSON
>> The best in motorsports have risen to the occasion on the hollowed grounds of Daytona, Florida. Earnhardt, Petty, Johnson, you name it, they’ve been there and accomplished greatness on this pavement filled playground that NASCAR fans worship. And can you blame them? This place has been home to the highest of high’s and lowest of low’s. The cage that lines the outer walls of the competition course acts as a barrier of excitement, controlling the chaos that ensues on those select times of the year. But for one weekend in March, those barriers get moved a little closer to the
infield, and the roaring of Ford’s and Chevy’s exchanged for the barks of Honda’s, Husqvarna’s, and Yamaha’s alike, as the infield is ripped to pieces by two wheeled machines instead of four. If you win here, you’ve made it. You’ve proved that you can withstand the ultimate test in Supercross, and can shake the hands of some of the best in the hall of fame, and say, I now have a commonality with you. Looking onto the wall of greats, Jordon Smith understands the undertaking he is about to embark on. The bike has been prepared to the hilt, his training regimen is adamant, and his confidence appears to be glistening; its now time for him to put all of his effort to the test, on this Daytona SX course. Nearing the 1:13 mark in his practice sessions, he was set up nicely, and established a good pace early on through all of his qualifying endeavors. Although a tad bit of frustration was relinquished during his heat race, it was a good opportunity to foster his aggression, and put in the main, looking for the real time of challenge and fun to begin. As the 30 second girl pranced across the start stretch, his mind had been switched into overdrive. His helmet bobbing and nodding, appearing as if he was talking himself into a rhythmic sequence of synchronization. Breathe buddy breathe, as the gate collapsed, the field lawn darting into turn number one. Appearing as a flock of seagulls, the pack was soaring over this absurd amount of airtime the track provided, and panning alongside the running cameraman who would speed in parallel fashion along the apron of pavement. He was fighting with dyer urgency, knowing that every position would matter, and each jousting match was not only a point on the scorecard, but underneath the goggle lens as well. He would captivate, pushing aside fear for these 20 minutes or so, and launch anything and everything in sight; he would actually shift up a gear prior to this “Great Wall of Daytona” and sky into the air, and as you can guess, the bike screaming upon impact. He was on the cusp of the podium for good portion of the moto, chasing Dylan Ferrandis, urgently pushing his back wheel through the sand section, and just within the grasp of those polyester gloves, but not being able to fully reach out the pack in front of him; he couldn’t ever let up with a charging Zach Osborne just at his bay, the veteran giving off an array of urgency to the young North Carolina Tar Heel. Peg dragging his way around with the majority of the field gasp- ing for breath, he would bring home a solid fourth place effort once all was said and done.
40 GRITMOTO • MARCH 12, 2017