Just outside of Berwick is a large and well-maintained dirt track called the Evansville MX Park. And on any given Sunday and a few choice Saturdays the sounds of revving motorcycle engines can be heard. Never having attended one of these events, it piqued my curiosity as to what my friend Cheryl Hilstosky’s husband and sons did almost every weekend once the snow melts. This curiosity brought me back to my old stomping grounds in Berwick for a Sunday of learning a little bit about this sport.
The first thing that surprised me was that we found a parking spot. There were so many RVs, cars and trucks that there was little room left by the time we got there. I had not realized how popular this sport was. I’d only seen it on television, so I was a tabula rasa when it came to having a single clue about what to expect. Except for dust. Cheryl warned me not to dress in anything I didn’t want to get dirty.
Then the surprises came fast and furious. I was watching the starting line. The bikes leave the starting line faster and dustier than the horses at the Kentucky Derby. As the next group lined up near the starting gate for a younger class race, I noticed a father fixing a ponytail on his daughter. Yes, there were women racers, and not just a few. From the 50 cc class all the way to the adults, women commanded a place in line and rocked just as hard over the dust and mud as the men did.
I made a comment to Cheryl about the ponytail, and the lady next to us said “that’s my stepdaughter, I asked her if she wanted her hair in a pony but she said no, now I guess she’s changed her mind.” My reply was that it was cool that a dad could fix a pony tail; the woman said “Oh, he does her hair all the time.” Hard to imagine this 6-foot-tall burly guy in a motocross uniform doing hair, but there you have it. Not only was it great that he can fix her hair but that he supports his daughter’s love of the sport with encouragement and the money it costs to field a bike, clothe a rider and travel. And more importantly the time spent together learning a challenging sport. In a very highly competitive sport, women are not the rule, but they do earn their place at the starting line.
Shannon Bennis is the stepmother to Jenna Weindel, the 16-year-old, who tore off that starting line, ponytail flying from under her helmet, down the dirt slope and through the track. Shannon and her family came all the way from Lebanon, Pa., for this race. She tells me that “Shannon has been racing since she was three years old,” a time before most kids can even ride a bike that doesn’t have a motor.
Unfortunately, today Jenna wrecked her bike and was taken off the track to a waiting ambulance. She was “done for the day.” She was OK, having a bit of trouble walking at last report but will be seeking out her own doctor when they get back to Lebanon — she didn’t want to miss the rest of the race. I would have my fingernails bitten to the quick watching my kid do this all day long.
Meanwhile, Cheryl’s boys, dad Don, oldest son Jake and youngest son Lucas, still had some racing to do. Apparently once around the track isn’t enough and races can last till dusk or longer if there are lights. It seems from my one-day observation and the rules that Don was trying to teach me about the sport that there are classes of bikes and riders, even a 45-plus group. Now that’s a group of boys that won’t give up. And in comparison, if you can imagine seeing on one smaller track the little 50 cc group of kids aged at 4-6 and 7-8 who glide over the jumps and their parents running around the track after them like a soccer match, then watch the college boys group aged 14–24 who have no fear and take air over the jumps like mad, it becomes a truly engaging sport to observe.
But to see a little 6- or 7-year-old walk with confidence gained from competition and learning about losing and winning, you can see that this is far better than video games, albeit a bit more dangerous. Even with the chest protectors and helmets, racing boots and gloves, a mother still worries about injury to her child even as she encourages him to do better or tells her that fifth place isn’t so bad.
This column wasn’t long enough to do justice to the sport or the track, so expect a follow up soon! I’m hooked on motocross.
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