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JORDON SMITH
250 SX / 6TH
IMAGE / KILPATRICK WORDS / MATTINGLY DESIGN / MOTOPLAYGROUND
>> Open up any history textbook throughout the United States, and you’ll be quick to nd the struggles and roads Texas has had to endure, in order to become such the success- ful state it is. Think back to the Alamo, and the infamous battle that occurred over the states’ borders; all of the bloodshed and battle wounds, just for Mexico to release its’ grip of the territory, and allow its’ independence. And speaking of independence, riders such as Jordon Smith have many commonalities with the aforementioned piece of history. He’s always had to seemingly ght his way from amongst the shadows, clawing for a piece
of his own pie. It’s been a long road to assert himself as a legitimate race contender himself, but he’s done it, and the setting of Dallas was a perfect opportunity for him to reiterate history of the past. Pushing through practice with bayonet in hand, he charged
at the competition with all of his might. Spearing the back-to-back whoop sections, his lines would almost scrape each tuff-block, yet somehow come away from each section of moguls unscathed. Etching his way into the top of the quali cation sheet, he knew what would be in store for the latter events. Funneling down the start straight, the eld would bottleneck in the slight chicane. The track, still etched with a bit of dozer mark, allowed
for some optimal lap times, as the eld went absolutely berserk. Tripling through the small rhythm lane, after the second whoop section, he would kiss the front fender, setting down the chassis on the backside, just before hopping into the meat of the following left bowl turn. As the checkered ag would y, he would go on to qualify third. The main event, saw the eld slush to the left, and then power drive immediately into the following right; and unfortunately, Jordon Smith would be involved in a huge pileup, now having work to do. Sorting themselves out in the following rhythm lane, it was as though they were popcorn, within the bowl of the stadium. Although the track was relatively simple, corner speed was key in the movement of forward position. Looking ahead, he would click off lap after lap, eyeing the ever so precious white ag, with Austin Forkner at his trail. Seemingly throwing a bit of pepper from his rear tread, the opposition would constantly sniff out his scent, but it was too no avail. Although his lines and secrets could be found, there was no substan- tial catch, and he would cross the nal ag in sixth place overall.
42 GRITMOTO • FEBRUARY 18, 2018