Page 34 - Issue_72

ADAM CIANCIARULO
250 SX / 3RD
IMAGE / KILPATRICK WORDS / MATTINGLY DESIGN / MOTOPLAYGROUND
>> Let’s rewind to the early, to mid 1990’s, where Grunge metal was hitting its peak throughout
the country, and the eye of the storm stood atop the city of Seattle, Washington. A dark, somewhat depressive attitude would linger with the aura of the genre, re ecting the cloudy, overcast mentality
of many in the region. Bands like Nirvana took the country, and even the globe by storm, captivating fans with rage, and sheer brute force as the singers took a stand behind the mic. Upon arrival, what was ringing through the headphones of Adam Cianciarulo you ask? You guessed it, the vocals of
Kurt Cobain, blaring “It Smells Like Teen Spirit.” The lyrics, and vibe of this number one hit, radiated through his inner ear, spiking a bit of clash and rebellion inside his mindset. It was as though he still had the ear buds on in practice, as his bike would hop through every section in harmonious rhythm. Toying with both on-off, and triple over combinations, in the two rhythm sections after the start, he would bring the machine up and down, with a perfect blend of touch. He owed, so much so that he would qualify with an excellent position, and could even be seen rocking an air guitar out the tunnel, back to his semi. The heat was here, and the crash of the snare drum had everyone going berserk, yet you could see throughout the rst lap, he would remain calm, despite the chaos looming around him. He found himself interlocked with Marvin Castelo early on, trying his best to establish room of his own, and out the shadow of his foe. It would work although he would make a drastic mistake, as he pressed forward, the steam coming off of his header like an iron, trying his best to nd the smoothest of lines throughout this wrinkled canvas. The checkered ag would be near, and the fourteenth place he was in, was where he would reside. The LCQ, a quick excerpt of the night show, would be nothing but a breeze; he would go onto take the win. The camera would pan the starting line for the main event, he would sit center stage, ready for his cue to start the show. The theatrics would ensue, and he would now be the start of the show, captivating the crowd with his performance. Perform lines that were unorthodox as ever, the precision of his turning was out of this world, seemingly cutting across ruts mid way through these ninety degree bowl turns, and shooting underneath, trying to save time. His rear brake would begin to squeal, as pads would quickly begin heat up, with all of this “fudge” seemingly molding the caliper and line. The bike would begin to get heavy, yet his strength of both mind and spirit would endure, seemingly lifting the bike through these gigantic ruts. Playing with the likes of Shane Mcelrath, the two would be jousting for position, as the halfway point would pass.
Neck and neck at times, he would have to hit his respective marks in consistent fashion. He would do so, as the last ve or six laps, he would limit his excessive foot dabbing of early on. And it was just enough, to slowly begin to pull from the opponent. The checkered ag was in the foreground, and he would whiz by, skying over the double, knowing he had landed a solid spot on the podium.
34 GRITMOTO • APRIL 8, 2018