Page 32 - Issue-48

ALEX MARTIN
250 MX / 2ND
IMAGE / CAVAZOS WORDS / MATTINGLY DESIGN / WILSON
>> Ain’t no sunshine when it’s on, only darkness every day. The mood is being tapped in, infiltrated into the inner being that only he knows. Only he, truly, can attest to how hard he’s worked. No one else has logged the miles, been a recipient of the close calls, and lost the countless hours of sleep, dwelling on the move he shall make when this day comes. It’s here, and Alex Martin is ready. As the morning dew begins to dry, the machine as was lifted off the stand, placed onto the ground, a solid one, two thrust of the rear end and off they went. They were rolling through the pits, the bark of the hollowed tip silencer ricocheting off canopies and awnings a like, he wanted to make it known that he was in the area, the surrounding heads turning around in his presence. A brisk earful from the mechanic, he then walked away and let the artist paint the canvas, ripping the Hangtown track to shreds. The soil was developing nicely, at a very rampant pace, riders being forced to adapt and change lines almost every lap, as the grooves were becoming deeper and deeper throughout the duration. Once the checkered flag flew, he was satisfied, and awaited the real tests to begin. The crowd on their feet, the grassy areas of specta- tors filled with air horns, streamers, and flags alike, were raring to go. The cage door unlatches; the field dive-bombs into the opening bend. Everyone beginning to sort themselves out. The pack acting as a sea of vultures hitting the opening jump, the all are ravaging for the spot to lead as they crest the first hill fol- lowing the left-hander. He’s sitting solid as the field hits timing and scoring for the first time, residing near the eighth position. His speed down the mechanic’s area straight away was startling, almost brushing the boards of each crew member in the paddock, creating a flurry of screams from each rival team’s chief. Keep pushing, keep pushing, he was reiterating to himself under the helmet, as he crested the tabletop prior to the set of uphill rollers. The two-two, three, combo from earlier in the day was beginning to dete- riorate, as the ruts were just simply combed out throughout the way. Nevertheless, his weight pivoted to his plantarflexors, he was wheeling when need be, and keeping the throttle pinned no matter what. Fight- ing off the likes of, Mitchell Harrison, and Dylan Ferrandis, his charge would be nothing short of applaud worthy. He would go on to take fourth place. Off the stool for the second moto, his cut man sewed the open wounds, coaches sprayed the water into the mouthpiece, and he was ready to rock and roll. Dirt was flying aimlessly off the pat, the field doing their best to follow the leader around the initial left. He was tackling the competition with utter precision, coming from a ways back, taking both hotshoe’s of Aaron Plessinger and Adam Cianciarulo. Fighting with the best in the business, he was sending the machine to its brink off the downhill ledge, prior to the ravine; always doing it with style we might add. His stamina was holding at a superb rate, the lactate threshold was reaching nearer and nearer, but he had worked
in his anaerobic pathway plenty of times before, so this was nothing more than his usual, Monday-Friday work. The laps were clicking away, and he was still fighting, improving with each go around. He would again go on to take another fourth place finish, however good enough for the runner up overall. As the checkered flag began to wave, he figured he’d done enough to secure the second overall spot, and he was correct. Thankful as can be when all was said and done, he knew he’d put himself off to a great start to begin the 2017 season.
32 GRITMOTO • MAY 21, 2017