Robby Bell tells an emotional and compelling story of his team’s historic win in the 2014 Tecate SCORE Baja 1000–it’s a must-read tale!
It took me quite a bit of time to reach my decision and commit to racing the 2014 Tecate SCORE Baja 1000. After the year that I had in 2013, crashing really hard at all three SCORE events, and then with the loss of Kurt at the 1000, I didn’t want to go back down anymore; the speed had elevated, the risks were greater, and the stakes had become all too real to all of us.
But the closer the race came, the more I started to think of how I wanted to remember Baja, and I came to the conclusion that I didn’t want the 2013 1000 to be my last memory of a race and adventure that had made such an impact on my life. I wanted to go down one more time, put in a ride that would see me safely to the finish line, and enjoy the experience of one of the greatest off road races in the world; a race that has given me so much and so many positive memories. I was also fully aware that Ricky Brabec and Max Eddy were tied in the championship with the WFOx team, meaning that whomever won the 1000 was going to take home the SCORE Championship, and I felt I could help the team earn it.
The next piece to fall into place and bolster my confidence in my decision to race was when Steve Hengeveld committed to the team. Steve continues to be one of the fastest, toughest, and surely most experienced racers in Baja. He’s ridiculously fast when the sun goes down, and he and I shared the notion that we still had some unfinished business in Baja. With Steve on board, and with Ricky and Max in probably the best racing form of their lives, I wasn’t short on confidence. If the four of us simply had a solid ride, we could put the 1x plate on a green bike for the first time since 1996.
We also had one heck of a team/race effort coordinator in my dad, Bob Bell, and I felt the race plan we came up with suited everyone’s strengths quite well: I’d take the bike the first 200 miles, then Ricky would get a 120-mile section before I would remount and ride another 185 miles. Max would take over from me around the Bay of LA, as the sun would start to fall, for about 220 miles before handing the bike to Ricky just North of San Ignacio for a 260-mile section. Our ringer would be Steve, who would take the bike from Ricky in Loreto, and, motorcycle gods willing, cross the finish line 310 miles later.
We had suspicions of how the WFOx team was planning on splitting the peninsula, and we later learned that they were spot on as Colton Udall started and rode the first 650 miles (+/-), giving the bike to Ian Young around Viscaino, who would then hand it over to Mark Samuels in Loreto for the final stretch to the finish. No matter how the race would turn out, there was no denying Colton’s passion and desire for racing and winning in Baja. Even though he would be riding for 12-plus hours straight, at race-winning speed mind you, would be unbelievably demanding on both the mind and the body, we never underestimated the reigning 1X team. They’ve proven time and again to be fighters, and that they’re at their most dangerous when their backs are up against the wall.
As race day drew near, I was noticing that my usual Baja-race nerves weren’t creeping in; I was pretty calm and relaxed. I think this was because I had made a conscious decision, and a promise to myself and my wife, to ride completely within myself, not push the pace like I had in the recent past, which is when I’d get in to trouble, and rely on the fact that I had such strong teammates; I didn’t feel I needed to go out and win the race from the start. Instead, my overriding goals were to ride safe and smart, and keep the bike in perfect condition, giving my partners the best possible opportunity to have a good ride, and I wanted to have a little fun while I was at it.
A 4:20 a.m. alarm meant it must be race day and as I headed over toward the start I once again took note of how relaxed I felt. Of course there were a few butterflies fluttering around in my stomach, but it is the Baja 1000—it’s kind of a big deal! Since Ricky is the rider of record he has to either start or finish to earn points for the team, and the logical choice was to have him roll off the line and bring the bike to me a few hundred yards down the course. Just after 6 a.m. I heard our purpose-built #4X KX450 accelerating toward me, took a couple grounding deep breaths, mounted the 4X bike and took off for the start of the 2014 Baja 1000.
The early start time, combined with a sky blocked by heavy clouds left the morning conditions quite dark as the course wound through Ensenada. I know the start really well from years past, so it would have been easy for me to get swept up in the emotion and grandeur of the event and start to ride above what I felt comfortable with, but I held true to my promise and stayed smooth, riding a good, safe pace. Colton was definitely on another program as around Race Mile 15 I saw the flood of a headlight shining from behind me. As I checked up for a slightly blind rise, Colton stayed hard on the gas and made the pass by me, instantly pulling out a bit of a gap. Again it would have been easy for me to pick up my pace and try to race with Colton, but I kept the big picture in perspective and decided to let him go. I had confidence that we just needed to stay somewhat close to Colton through the daytime. I felt our team was really going to excel at night.
I actually ended up losing quite a bit of time to Colton through the entirety of my first section—he straight up dropped the hammer and left me, pulling out nearly eight minutes of a lead by the time I gave the bike to Ricky around mile 200. I have to admit I was pretty shocked I lost that much time; I knew I was riding safely, but I didn’t think I was riding that safely. Still, there were 1070 miles left to run, and it was really too early to worry about the gap.
Ricky had a good ride over his 120 miles, suffering one minor crash at the start of his section, and after our first major maintenance pit I hopped back on the bike and took off for my second stint. This time I instantly felt better on the bike. The sun was now fully up, the course was heading into the open desert, and it’s as if my comfort level raised a few notches. It also didn’t hurt that I really enjoyed the type of terrain the course was heading toward, as I really like the fast, rocky sections around Catviña and the flowing washes heading towards El Crucero. After nearly 4 hours on the bike, I reached our second major maintenance pit, around Race Mile 500, where we mounted our headlights and I handed the bike over to Max. Through my second section I was glad that I was able to cut into Colton’s lead (I think he also had am issue with his rear tire), and after our pit the gap was down to around 6 minutes. We still had to remember that even at this point, 10 hours in to the race, there were still almost 800 miles to go.
It’s funny how that, after my parts of the race were done, the real nerves began to rise. I feel it’s often tougher on the emotions to be off the bike, or in the position of the mechanics, as you’re not in direct control of the motorcycle. It also doesn’t help that it’s usually pretty difficult to get updates down the peninsula because cell service is sketchy at best, and radio updates are few and far between. Luckily we had a satellite phone and were in constant contact with friends and family watching the live timing on the internet, so we were actually able to stay somewhat up to date on how the race was unfolding.
Max was having an awesome ride, and we heard reports that he was catching the 1X bike, pulling to within 3 minutes of the lead. Then the next thing we heard was that Max had passed the Honda in the pits around Viscaino, taking the physical lead back, and that left our hearts were swelling with excitement. That’s when the bottom dropped out.
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