Masters Games 2006
The Masters Games 2006 Challenge
How Not to Win a Bronze Medal
Len Brennan's crazy Masters Games adventure.
I decided to enter for the Masters Games, the Olympic games for seniors, and the handicapped. It is held at Alice springs every two years, it lasts about a week and covers age 45 to whatever, there are some well into their 90's.
And it all went like this, I had entered in the Masters Games at Alice Springs to compete in the motorcycle Enduro, a desert race over 160 klm, plus the motor bike scrambles. The mountain bike racing, and the track and field events which included the 100 mtr, 200 mtr, 400 mtr, 3000 mtr run, and walk, and the masters mile, not to mention the Hammer, Shotput, Discus, and Javelin.
I had a crash course in all the above at Karingal athletics centre near Frankston, before I left so that I wouldn't make a complete fool of myself. My son Peter and I left for the Alice with a borrowed 400 cc L/H kick start KTM trail bike, but I couldn't start it, so Peter was my kick starter, if I stalled it during the race I would be completely stuffed. So we headed off in the poor old Toyota ute with the old KTM, and my new you-beaut aluminium light weight fully sprung mountain bike.
We knew there was no accommodation left for us in Alice, as the five thousand entrants had filled everything so the motor-cycle club said we could stay at there club room about eight k's out of Alice. We had taken all the camping to be able to camp anywhere, but my Toyota ute decided it was going to over heat towing the trailor, so we had to abandon it at a friends place at Ballarat, but the ute kept over heating all the way to Adelaide.
We tried chemi-weld in the radiator in case it had a hole somewhere, but that didn't work, it blew out when it over heated, all over the engine bay making a hell of a mess. We discovered that the water pump gasket was leaking so we rebuilt that over night and headed for Alice again, but the problem persisted all the way to Alice, which meant that every service station on the way was a stop, cool down, and top up again. It was a real mess and was effecting the ignition, so we decided to pressure wash the engine bay, but the water killed the ignition system. When I tried to restart it, it crossfired and blew the muffler wide open, so now it was not only over heating in the 40 deg heat, it was running shitfully, and now it made a horrible bloody noise as well, but it got us there OK.
On arrival in Alice I took the 16 year old, battered KTM to the local KTM dealer, "Race Motorcycles" in Alice Springs to have it checked out in advance before scrutineering. When he saw the bike, Woody (Wayne) said to me, you can't ride that bloody old thing you silly old bugger, It'll kill you, I will sponsor you with a brand new demo 250 KTM electric start. Well I couldn't believe my luck, I just wanted to hug him, but he declined my offer, he was my saviour, believe me.
The day before the event, the motorbike sports co-ordinator for the Games invited to go with him to mark out the track a bit better to stop people getting lost, and that would give me a first hand view of the track. It had been closed to all but officials so that no-one rode the track in advance. So I thought I was pretty lucky. After travelling the track in his 4x4, even getting bogged in the sand dunes. I decided I was definitely going to need a lot more practice to be able to ride in that loose beach sand, because I have not ridden a trail bike in my life before, let alone in loose beach sand.
So after returning from the track marking, I decided to get in an extra hour of practice before the Games opening ceremony on the Saturday night, so I headed out into the virgin bush-lands following old tracks with my new 250 KTM. I had only gone a hundred metres when I came upon a wash-away one and half metres across and half a meter deep, with water in it, too wide and deep to go through so I tried to stop in a hurry in the loose sand and the bike shied, and slid from under me, and I went down in a big smelly heap on my right shoulder, almost blacking out from the pain. I broke my collar bone and sprained my right ankle, pulling the ligaments of the ankle bone.
I eventually got my self back to the club house and got myself to hospital emergency, but they were short staffed and sent me too the games medical centre, where I told them to tape up my shoulder in the riding position, and ankle, so that I could still ride the next day. The nurse said to me, "Its my duty to tell you not to ride a motor cycle in your state". Then off to the Games opening ceremony. The opening ceremony was great, and has been compared to, or the equivalent of schoolies week for seniors, the mad-cap antics that went on. They really are the Friendly Games.
On race morning we arrived at the track, and everyone was trying to talk me out of going in the desert race, "your bloody mad" and "you silly old fool" were among some of the impressions. But a mans got to do, so I was duly undressed to my jocks, and dressed in my racing gear by this lovely 27 year old office girl from the KTM, Race Motorcycle dealership. When my time came as the last rider in the field of about 50 riders to leave I was phyically lifted onto my bike and flagged away.
I took off like an old seventy year-old, but after I got used to it, went like scolded cat on the northern loop in the 37 degree heat, because of the horse pain killers I was taking, plus the adrenalin, I was feeling little pain. The event consisted of four 40 k laps, two laps on the north circuit and two on the south, half way round the first lap I got myself into the gold medal winning position, in the 60 to 70 age group. I was the oldest in the event by 8 years, and I was on fire, (I was "smokin").
I came in for my compulsory 10 minute stop to hydrate, had a drink and doubled up on my Redeye energy drink, and pain killers, then left again well ahead. Half way round the south lap I started onto a sand dune too slow, and got bogged in the sand about 5 metres short of the top, I tried to push the bike and motor at the same time but in seconds became bogged. "A la Paris-Dakar" With the busted shoulder I just couldn't get the bike out, all I could do was tip it over from one side to the other to get the sand back under the tire.
My son Peter was riding sweep on our borrowed KTM, so he helped me out of the sand, by the end of that lap I was back to silver. On the next lap I crashed out on another sand dune but this time it was worse, I was travelling faster and hit harder, again on my right shoulder, but landed on my arm and broke five ribs this time. I was totally winded and couldn't get any air, I really thought I was dead this time, it was really frightening, I just couldn't get any air, you just don't bounce at 70 like you used to at 20, bugger!!!.
After discovering I was actually going to survive, I started to try lifting the bike, despite the really serious pain, in an effort to beat the pain I started screaming at the top of my lungs but it didn't overcome the pain, it was just too much for me, and I kept on falling to my knees in the hot sand in tears of pain. I had to keep trying though, because I was on my own in the desert's 37deg heat and hot sand and the bike was my only way back. Plus I was loosing time and places.
When I came in the orginisers could see I was in really bad pain, and said your not going anywhere till you get clearence from the ambo's. I went over to them and put on my best front, pretending there was little or no pain. They reluctantly allowed me to go out again. I would have been really pissed off if they had grounded me, stopped me from going out again. Although every pain in my body was telling me desperatly to just go and sit down, but my competitive inner self said don't give up, you can do it, so I rode off into the desert again on my third 40 k lap.
I managed to fall off again, this time on my left shoulder, as usual my son peter came to my rescue, getting the bike out of the sand, man was I in pain now, but still determined to press on. During this lap I fell again but on the left shoulder for the second time, but no extra damage. I came into the control and pits about eight minutes short of the compulsory four hours having done about 120 klm, so I had to decide if I continue and do the last 40 k lap and risk a hospital stay to retain my silver medal position. Or do I stop and settle for a bronze, or possibly nothing at all if I was to crash out again.
For the sake of eight minutes I decided that discretion was the better part of valour, and settled for the bronze, and probably avoided the potential pain that I may have suffered. St Johns ambo's and the KTM pit crew were all trying to stop me anyway. I just had to do a 100 mtr loop and come back through the race control timing stop again to officially finish. The adrenalin had worn off by now and the pain killers, so I was feeling like I had been hit by a bus at 60 kph, or maybe beaten up with a base ball bat
I still wonder if I should have done that last lap, it had some 160 kph light sandy straight where I could have made up a lot of time and just maybe got back the gold, but I shall never know. It was a real experience, considering I have never ridden a trail bike before, and up against guys that have spent their lives on them working on their properties, rounding up cattle, etc.. But I am happy, its not something a seventy year old would normally do, but I did it, I finished, and I got a bronze medal.
They want me to come back to do the famous 240 k Finke desert race next year. If I did, it would be on a quad bike next time, it may not keep throwing me face down in the sand all the time. (maybe)
Due of my injuries it was impossible for me to compete in any of the other sporting events that I was entered in, but I felt my best chance of getting a medal was in the motorcycle racing anyway. So after my forty six years of successful motor racing in every type of vehicle without a scratch, I go and do this crazy thing, maybe I should stick to the sport I do best. Anyone looking for an unused fully sprung, state of the art aluminium mountain bike, well I have one that I may never use.
Warm Regards
Len Brennan
How Not to Win a Bronze Medal
Len Brennan's crazy Masters Games adventure.
I decided to enter for the Masters Games, the Olympic games for seniors, and the handicapped. It is held at Alice springs every two years, it lasts about a week and covers age 45 to whatever, there are some well into their 90's.
And it all went like this, I had entered in the Masters Games at Alice Springs to compete in the motorcycle Enduro, a desert race over 160 klm, plus the motor bike scrambles. The mountain bike racing, and the track and field events which included the 100 mtr, 200 mtr, 400 mtr, 3000 mtr run, and walk, and the masters mile, not to mention the Hammer, Shotput, Discus, and Javelin.
I had a crash course in all the above at Karingal athletics centre near Frankston, before I left so that I wouldn't make a complete fool of myself. My son Peter and I left for the Alice with a borrowed 400 cc L/H kick start KTM trail bike, but I couldn't start it, so Peter was my kick starter, if I stalled it during the race I would be completely stuffed. So we headed off in the poor old Toyota ute with the old KTM, and my new you-beaut aluminium light weight fully sprung mountain bike.
We knew there was no accommodation left for us in Alice, as the five thousand entrants had filled everything so the motor-cycle club said we could stay at there club room about eight k's out of Alice. We had taken all the camping to be able to camp anywhere, but my Toyota ute decided it was going to over heat towing the trailor, so we had to abandon it at a friends place at Ballarat, but the ute kept over heating all the way to Adelaide.
We tried chemi-weld in the radiator in case it had a hole somewhere, but that didn't work, it blew out when it over heated, all over the engine bay making a hell of a mess. We discovered that the water pump gasket was leaking so we rebuilt that over night and headed for Alice again, but the problem persisted all the way to Alice, which meant that every service station on the way was a stop, cool down, and top up again. It was a real mess and was effecting the ignition, so we decided to pressure wash the engine bay, but the water killed the ignition system. When I tried to restart it, it crossfired and blew the muffler wide open, so now it was not only over heating in the 40 deg heat, it was running shitfully, and now it made a horrible bloody noise as well, but it got us there OK.
On arrival in Alice I took the 16 year old, battered KTM to the local KTM dealer, "Race Motorcycles" in Alice Springs to have it checked out in advance before scrutineering. When he saw the bike, Woody (Wayne) said to me, you can't ride that bloody old thing you silly old bugger, It'll kill you, I will sponsor you with a brand new demo 250 KTM electric start. Well I couldn't believe my luck, I just wanted to hug him, but he declined my offer, he was my saviour, believe me.
The day before the event, the motorbike sports co-ordinator for the Games invited to go with him to mark out the track a bit better to stop people getting lost, and that would give me a first hand view of the track. It had been closed to all but officials so that no-one rode the track in advance. So I thought I was pretty lucky. After travelling the track in his 4x4, even getting bogged in the sand dunes. I decided I was definitely going to need a lot more practice to be able to ride in that loose beach sand, because I have not ridden a trail bike in my life before, let alone in loose beach sand.
So after returning from the track marking, I decided to get in an extra hour of practice before the Games opening ceremony on the Saturday night, so I headed out into the virgin bush-lands following old tracks with my new 250 KTM. I had only gone a hundred metres when I came upon a wash-away one and half metres across and half a meter deep, with water in it, too wide and deep to go through so I tried to stop in a hurry in the loose sand and the bike shied, and slid from under me, and I went down in a big smelly heap on my right shoulder, almost blacking out from the pain. I broke my collar bone and sprained my right ankle, pulling the ligaments of the ankle bone.
I eventually got my self back to the club house and got myself to hospital emergency, but they were short staffed and sent me too the games medical centre, where I told them to tape up my shoulder in the riding position, and ankle, so that I could still ride the next day. The nurse said to me, "Its my duty to tell you not to ride a motor cycle in your state". Then off to the Games opening ceremony. The opening ceremony was great, and has been compared to, or the equivalent of schoolies week for seniors, the mad-cap antics that went on. They really are the Friendly Games.
On race morning we arrived at the track, and everyone was trying to talk me out of going in the desert race, "your bloody mad" and "you silly old fool" were among some of the impressions. But a mans got to do, so I was duly undressed to my jocks, and dressed in my racing gear by this lovely 27 year old office girl from the KTM, Race Motorcycle dealership. When my time came as the last rider in the field of about 50 riders to leave I was phyically lifted onto my bike and flagged away.
I took off like an old seventy year-old, but after I got used to it, went like scolded cat on the northern loop in the 37 degree heat, because of the horse pain killers I was taking, plus the adrenalin, I was feeling little pain. The event consisted of four 40 k laps, two laps on the north circuit and two on the south, half way round the first lap I got myself into the gold medal winning position, in the 60 to 70 age group. I was the oldest in the event by 8 years, and I was on fire, (I was "smokin").
I came in for my compulsory 10 minute stop to hydrate, had a drink and doubled up on my Redeye energy drink, and pain killers, then left again well ahead. Half way round the south lap I started onto a sand dune too slow, and got bogged in the sand about 5 metres short of the top, I tried to push the bike and motor at the same time but in seconds became bogged. "A la Paris-Dakar" With the busted shoulder I just couldn't get the bike out, all I could do was tip it over from one side to the other to get the sand back under the tire.
My son Peter was riding sweep on our borrowed KTM, so he helped me out of the sand, by the end of that lap I was back to silver. On the next lap I crashed out on another sand dune but this time it was worse, I was travelling faster and hit harder, again on my right shoulder, but landed on my arm and broke five ribs this time. I was totally winded and couldn't get any air, I really thought I was dead this time, it was really frightening, I just couldn't get any air, you just don't bounce at 70 like you used to at 20, bugger!!!.
After discovering I was actually going to survive, I started to try lifting the bike, despite the really serious pain, in an effort to beat the pain I started screaming at the top of my lungs but it didn't overcome the pain, it was just too much for me, and I kept on falling to my knees in the hot sand in tears of pain. I had to keep trying though, because I was on my own in the desert's 37deg heat and hot sand and the bike was my only way back. Plus I was loosing time and places.
When I came in the orginisers could see I was in really bad pain, and said your not going anywhere till you get clearence from the ambo's. I went over to them and put on my best front, pretending there was little or no pain. They reluctantly allowed me to go out again. I would have been really pissed off if they had grounded me, stopped me from going out again. Although every pain in my body was telling me desperatly to just go and sit down, but my competitive inner self said don't give up, you can do it, so I rode off into the desert again on my third 40 k lap.
I managed to fall off again, this time on my left shoulder, as usual my son peter came to my rescue, getting the bike out of the sand, man was I in pain now, but still determined to press on. During this lap I fell again but on the left shoulder for the second time, but no extra damage. I came into the control and pits about eight minutes short of the compulsory four hours having done about 120 klm, so I had to decide if I continue and do the last 40 k lap and risk a hospital stay to retain my silver medal position. Or do I stop and settle for a bronze, or possibly nothing at all if I was to crash out again.
For the sake of eight minutes I decided that discretion was the better part of valour, and settled for the bronze, and probably avoided the potential pain that I may have suffered. St Johns ambo's and the KTM pit crew were all trying to stop me anyway. I just had to do a 100 mtr loop and come back through the race control timing stop again to officially finish. The adrenalin had worn off by now and the pain killers, so I was feeling like I had been hit by a bus at 60 kph, or maybe beaten up with a base ball bat
I still wonder if I should have done that last lap, it had some 160 kph light sandy straight where I could have made up a lot of time and just maybe got back the gold, but I shall never know. It was a real experience, considering I have never ridden a trail bike before, and up against guys that have spent their lives on them working on their properties, rounding up cattle, etc.. But I am happy, its not something a seventy year old would normally do, but I did it, I finished, and I got a bronze medal.
They want me to come back to do the famous 240 k Finke desert race next year. If I did, it would be on a quad bike next time, it may not keep throwing me face down in the sand all the time. (maybe)
Due of my injuries it was impossible for me to compete in any of the other sporting events that I was entered in, but I felt my best chance of getting a medal was in the motorcycle racing anyway. So after my forty six years of successful motor racing in every type of vehicle without a scratch, I go and do this crazy thing, maybe I should stick to the sport I do best. Anyone looking for an unused fully sprung, state of the art aluminium mountain bike, well I have one that I may never use.
Warm Regards
Len Brennan
1/ Medal presentation 2/ Resting after race. 3/ Old & new KTMs.
4/ Son Peter 5/ Taking off at start of race. 6/ Competitor group photo.
4/ Son Peter 5/ Taking off at start of race. 6/ Competitor group photo.
Last modified:
12 August 2009
12 August 2009