Page 14 - GRIT-82

JUSTIN BARCIA
450 MX / 3RD
IMAGE / LANG WORDS / MATTINGLY DESIGN / MOTOPLAYGROUND
>> Envision the culture of Boston, Massachusetts; and you can truly grasp just how much of Irish residency is in the surrounding. Cloves of shamrock, ags doused with vibrant greens, and authentic pubs galore, clari es each resident of the area lled with hard-nosed grit, and tenacity out of this world. It’s a working class community, and they ock to nd riders with the same genetic makeup as them, those who garner the traits of blue-collared pasts. It can be found in Justin Barcia, who’s trained to the highest regard on the bike for years and years, constantly clocking in his time card. Months and months of vigorous training, would launch him to the elite level, where he now can be rewarded for his due dilligence and hopefully provide
a stable career for himself. The wick was a place for him to show team managers of all kinds, that he was ready, willing, and able to put their brand towards the summit of the sport. Ecstatic from his solid practice effort, he thought he could continue to ascend, if the stars would align for the beginning of “Independence” week. The adrenaline began to bottle up, and then dump as the pad fell for moto one, and he blistered into operation “Desert Storm.” Swarming off
the battalion of reckless soldiers and crazy militia all around, he had to be careful of both his combatants near and far away, because one rider could cause an avalanche of disaster and in the rst few laps, could push him quickly to the bottom of the eld. He dug into the depths of his inner being, ghting and clawing his way past anyone in sight. He took it to heart, having the 450 screaming at the top of its combustion sequence as he screamed past the mechanics area, ringing the life out of the rev limiter for all it was worth. He and Marvin Musquin were at times seemingly locked at the hip, the master-link of their chain truly putting their bikes within spitting distance of one another. Ripping through the chicanes throughout the mid-valley of raceway, he felt Eli Tomac inch nearer and nearer as time crept on. However, he would hold strong; battered and beaten, he knew he must resurge for the next go around, as he came across the line in third place. The arsenal of riders lined up again for moto number two, and with a snap of the ngers, the gate would crash. He would storm off the line, grabbing third and even fourth gear for a split second. The transmission was working overtime, as the oil would boil and the engine would rattle throughout the chassis. Sand would cover him from head to toe, but he wouldn’t blemish, although vision would be tainted and decision-making could be cloudy. It was taking his toll on him, but with Musquin out in front, he had something to gauge his speed off of. With the track in its worst shape of the day, he knew he would have to hold on for dear life in order to come away with a podium overall. However, his true tenacity would again show its head, and he would rummage, managing third as he crossed the line. Third overall would be his, and Red Bud would be something to look forward too.
14 GRITMOTO • JULY 1, 2018