The weekend of September 9, 2006 saw the Daniel clan driving north into Indian Territory(that is, Oklahoma) to ride the Talihina Gran-Prix, in the town of Talihina, OK. 

    We all left work on Friday afternoon and drove north towards the Texas-Oklahoma border.   Talihina is located in the east-central part of the state.  The Ozark mountains lap at its feet.  I had been in Oklahoma several times, but never in this specific region.

    There was a surprising amount of water in the Red River as we passed over it into Oklahoma.  We were immediately on an Indian Reservation and soon passed a casino.  I’ve been on many reservations in the past, but it’s always a shock to see the poverty.  Even towns not on the reservations seemed more poverty stricken than towns in Texas.

    We ate supper in Antlers, OK at the Sonic.  The town had seen better times and we moved on.  Around eight, we came to the town of Wilburton, OK.  We got a room a the A-OK motel.

    The next morning we woke up and drove into Talihina, a drive of 30 miles over very scenic outskirts of the Ozark Mountains.  Talihina is another town on a reservation, and one that’s seen better days.  There are maybe 500 residents, a figure that seemed to triple on this race weekend. 

    We immediately unloaded our bikes and went to sign up, got yelled at for riding down the street on what they assumed were dirt bikes, yelled back because the bikes we were on were street legal, and got a feel for the town.

    We learned that two of the five miles of track would be in town.  We had never raced a gran-prix before, so everything was new to us.

    The main difference in a gran-prix and what we usually race is that a gran-prix starts on asphalt and goes for a few miles, in this case, through the streets of a town.  Then the track goes onto dirt for a few miles and comes back into town, onto asphalt, to finish the lap. 

    A normal race for us is exclusively on dirt.

    Doug would race on Saturday.  Dad and I would race on Sunday. 

    The start would prove to be the most exciting part of the race.  To start, the riders would line their bikes along the curb, facing at an angle into the street.  The flagger would stand at the end of the line and give the green flag.  As soon as the green flag was thrown, the riders would run from the middle of the street to their bikes, crank them, and the race was on.  Although a short clip, the video to the left should give you an idea of the action.

    Doug is the seven or eight bikes down the row, wearing aqua blue gear and on an orange bike.  He will come by in the lead.  He finished in mid-pack. 

    Oklahoma is in a terrible drought just like East Texas.  Dust off the asphalt was horrible.  We made the enormous mistake of leaving our windows down in our Blazer and came back to several inches of yellow powder covering everything inside and out.

    Once Doug finished, we loaded up and drove to the motel for the night, had a supper of the best frog legs I’ve ever had, and was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

    Back at the track the next morning, Dad and I quickly dressed and took our spot on the main street.  We began with the flourish of running in boots that aren’t made for running.  I started well back in the pack.  The dust quickly became so bad in the woods that I had to completely stop several times because I couldn’t see anything!  Within the woods there was no wind, letting the dust just hang.  At times it looked like a fog.

    Dad’s race was much the same.  By the end of the race, we were both happy to just have survived without injury.

    We loaded our bikes and headed for home.  At 9:00 PM we pulled into our driveway.

    All in all, it was a great experience and look forward to next year, except without the dust!

Note:  To see all pics and videos, click on link at top.