Rachel Gutish’s European (Non) Vacation #1: Enduro GP for Dummies!
Story: Rachel Gutish
May 14th, 2024
Enduro Bureau contributor Rachel Gutish (Sherco USA) recently decided to take life, and her pro Enduro racing career, by the reigns to go race EnduroGP for the first time this season in attempt to be the first American woman to win a round of the series, and to take a hard swing at winning the overall. It was an exciting and gutsy decision, and we were able to convince this off-road champ to document her European (Non) Vacation for us here! Here’s entry #1 from Rachel’s adventures…
I have a confession to make. And a Canadian-based motorcycle magazine seems like just the place to make it. While I am proud to be an American, and hearing my anthem playing on podiums across the world is an honor unlike any other… I can be a tiny bit self-conscious when I go to Europe. As a people, we have a reputation for being loud and brash and ignorant. While I don’t typically embody the “stupid American” stereotype, all the same I sometimes hope to be mistaken for a Canadian.
I’m really not sure at all how the customs officer at Heathrow picked up that Rachel was American…
Image courtesy Rachel Gutish
So… when I walked into passport control at the London Heathrow airport and the customs officer took half a glance at my dad and I, then barked “American” (not a question, a statement) pointing us into the non-EU passport line, I couldn’t decide if I should be offended or not. Then I looked down and realized I was wearing one of my ISDE Team USA shirts… maybe stupid American is right!
Rachel & Nieve looking battle-ready.
Image courtesy Rachel Gutish
EnduroGP numbers…
Image courtesy Rachel Gutish
Race ready for Round 1 in Fafe, Portugal.
Image courtesy Rachel Gutish
This was my first time in the UK. The food was good, the bike was built, I was entranced by everyone’s accents, enjoyed spending time with Nieve Holmes, and Chris “Kiwi” Hockey, my teammates/sponsors/friends/competitors (a complicated relationship, true, but a good one), but overall my impression of the UK was that of being perpetually chilly and often wet, quite like how I feel whenever I’m in Washington state.
Fast-forward a few days and an alarming amount of paperwork later, and we are loading bikes in the rain. This is not unusual. My dad and I have a running joke, maybe more of an observation, that we almost always end up packing up for races in the rain, and that if only we could monetize this skill in drought-stricken areas, we could probably pay someone else to load bikes in the rain for us.
This time the scenery is a little different, but I can confirm that the rain in the UK is just as wet as it is back home, and oftentimes colder. Despite the literal wet blankets (technically ecology mats, required by the FIM to prevent me accidently leeching gas and oil across their beautiful countryside) I’m shoving into my new team’s Fun Mover by the armful, spirits are high. We’re off to EnduroGP! After a week of being cold, wet and stressed, which was preceded by a continental US season that funny enough also often involved being cold, wet and stressed, I’m looking forward to sunny Portugal, and to putting all the last-minute-paperwork-and-logistics behind me.
Now why was I in the UK, prepping for EnduroGP when by all rights I should have been at home racing my 120th GNCC or something? (I didn’t count them up, but this is a pretty accurate if somewhat alarming estimate). Well that is a VERY long story, too long for the pages of this magazine, so we’ll save the full story for the memoir people keep telling me I should write. In the meantime, we’ll just say I was badly in need of some new scenery and a new adventure, there are perks to being the Miss Congeniality of the ISDE, and when the stars align perfectly, you don’t turn fate down just because you already have a full dance card.
We are finally loaded up in the Fun Mover: four bikes, a propane grill, three gearbags, four ez ups, and several assorted helmets, boots, gas cans, mats, tires, sidewalls, assorted odds and ends, and the team. Now only two things stand between me and Portugal, an ocean crossing and an unfortunate propensity for seasickness. In the past, while talking to Nieve, I had been fascinated by the fact that they had to take a boat to get to most of their races. It was admittedly an interesting experience, getting to see the harbor and the boat, how they transport the vehicles and feel the ocean breeze on my face…. But also an interesting experience I’m content to never have again. With the help of my good friend Dramamine I did drag myself to the upper deck twice, once for a workout and once to watch the sunrise, but the rest of the trip was spent in the top bunk bed, moaning.
It was a relief to land in Spain, with the sun shining brightly and the ground solid beneath my feet. Even though it began snowing as we crossed over the mountain passes into Portugal, and I discovered the part of Portugal we were going to tends to be wet and windy this time of year, I was still enthusiastic.
Chris ‘Kiwi’ Hockey & Nieve Holmes - Rachel’s teammates/hosts for the EnduroGP campaign.
Image courtesy Rachel Gutish
We arrived on Easter Sunday, so not much was open. We stopped at a McDonald’s for lunch and to bum some free wifi to watch supercross (I felt very American in that moment). We parked the Fun Mover in a church parking lot (without lying, I told my mom that I did indeed attend church on Easter) accidently interrupted the church procession while looking for dinner. Our only option was a Burger King (I once again felt very American), but we had a wonderful evening, laughing, making fun of each other’s accents and learning about each other’s cultures while hoping the rain would let up before we had to walk back.
The practice track was on a hillside, which gave us excellent views of the clouds rolling in, and made of decomposed granite soil that took me a few laps to get a feel for. It also had the wonderful attribute of quickly draining water, which is great when you’re riding in a steady, constant rain. I needed to put at least four or five hours to break in the bike and get used to the 2024 I would be riding over here (my bikes back home are all currently 2023’s). Two days of splashing through puddles later, and lots of euros spent and expressos consumed at the local gas station/car wash, it was time to head for the EnduroGP.
Thankfully at EnduroGP there are only three tests to remember, rather than twelve – one Cross, one Enduro and one Extreme (four, if you count the Supertest prologue on Friday night), so while there is still much walking to be done, it is a very manageable 2-3 days of walking 8-12 miles, rather than the literally painful amounts of walking we do during ISDE prep. Speaking of the ISDE, although this event is quite similar, there are some major differences – the supertest, the extreme test, and the fact that mechanics can touch bikes and do everything except change tires. Obviously, there is also a difference in the sense that ISDE is a single event over the span of six consecutive days, while the EnduroGP (for the women, we don’t participate in all rounds) is a five round series, scattered throughout the year, with ten individual days that each pay their own separate points.
Rachel in action at GP of Portugal, Round 1 of the EnduroGP series.
Image © Pole Position Communication, courtesy FIM
The supertest is usually an EnduroCross-style two to three minutes test, though not always. Last year in Italy it featured an epic-looking beach sand test that had me sitting in Union, SC at my second GNCC of the season there, with dust blowing in my face, feeling very jealous. The rulebook (which is translated from French and sometimes has unintentionally delightful descriptions) merely states that it must be “spectacular but not dangerous”
The Supertest was Friday night, not long after the opening ceremony parade. I assumed there would be no need to walk it, I could just head over to the track right after the parade and check it out. Unfortunately, I failed to realize until just after the parade that we started at the platform, just like we would on a regular day of racing, and I would get to the Supertest itself with barely enough time to get a drink and lineup. So the fifteen minutes before my start time were spent frantically Instagram stalking the EnduroGP page and my fellow racers, trying to find any photos or videos of the test so I at least knew which direction the track went.
Through some European voodoo and over-under bridge engineering, riders start in semi-matching lanes side-by-side, then somehow end up in the other lane so each rider does both sides before finishing the test. It’s a fun little bit of “head-to-head” in an otherwise “against the clock” format. I ended up winning the test, but it was a bit nerve-wracking not really knowing what I was going into.
Another funny, semi-related story is what happened after the Supertest. First off, I stayed to “watch the other riders” (aka: see if I was going to win the test or not). When it was time to head back, I slid off the wall I’d been sitting on and threw a leg over the bike. I was getting ready to fire it up, when Nieve tapped me on the shoulder and asked why I was sitting on her motorcycle… I’m so used to being the only Sherco-with-a-headlight at all my races that I didn’t pay close enough attention to which Sherco-with-a-headlight I was getting ready to ride away on!
That was bad enough, I suppose. Then we get to the paddock and I do the natural thing, which is park the bike and start taking my gear off. Nieve walks around the side of the Fun Mover and once again asks what the hell I’m doing. See, the Supertest reminded me so much of EnduroCross that I’d completely forgotten that I wasn’t at EnduroCross, I was 4000 miles away, and I was supposed to impound the bike… if not for Nieve I would have houred out before my race ever really started. Remind me, how do you say “stupid American” in Portuguese again?
I was nervous and excited Saturday morning. They announced my name, and I rode off the platform into the unknown, just like at ISDE. There were plenty of interesting transfer sections – eight flights of stairs to ride down in a public park, a literal waterfall that I think was the result of a busted irrigation line, cloudy mountaintops, steep descents, granite cobblestone roads, rock slabs and tree roots, forests and trails and creek crossings, over 100 miles of it… true enduro in every sense of the word. The cross test was muddy and rutted, as was the enduro test. The feeling of my 2024 SE 300 (6 more horse than the 2023 model I’m racing at home right now) ripping up the hills, plowing though the muddy spots and sliding beautifully into each corner rut – that’s the stuff dreams are made of. I passed three riders in my second enduro test, winning it by around twenty seconds! A good thing because I blew it in the first extreme test, and was certain I’d thrown away a win and quite possibly even a podium. Bit of a long story, but I didn’t run a gummy/sticky compound tire at round one. Why would I? The tests are fast like ISDE, right? I didn’t really think twice about it or even question my decision, not even when I saw EVERYONE else in my class was running one… while trying to drag my bike out of the rocky crevice I’d firmly lodged it into, I had lots of second thoughts.
I recovered though, had a few more good enduro tests, a few decent cross tests, and no further catastrophes in the extreme test. I did my final service and pushed my bike into impound; finishing my first real day of EnduroGP… and winning it! As I stood on the podium, hearing our national anthem ring out at an EnduroGP for the second time in history (shout-out to Tayler Robert for being the only other American to take home a win), I was proud to be an American!
Rachel on top of the box with her Sherco at Day 1/Round 1 of the GP Portugal.
Image © Pole Position Communication, courtesy FIM.
Day two of racing was the same loops, same tests, same everything, just a slightly shorter day for the women. I struggled in the enduro test – a rock face had gotten unexpectedly exposed on one of the uphills. I crashed. Not hard, but time-consumingly. Then proceeded to let it get in my head and crashed every. single. time. in that same spot the rest of the day. My saving grace yesterday turned into my downfall today… quite literally. Even with all the falling though, I pulled off a second place finish and walked away from my first two rounds with the points lead!
The second round, also in Portugal the following weekend, had its share of up and downs – mechanical failures, podiums, annoying local police, learning to drive a stick-shift rental car, big crashes, fast test times, my dad driving Josep Garcia to town without the slightest idea who he was… ya know, all the usual American-at-EnduroGP-stuff. But those stories will need to wait for another article. This is already a long enough.
We’ll finish up with a few conclusions I’ve reached. Always walk the Supertest. Ask as many questions as possible. I’m not a lemming, but if everyone else is doing something and I’m not, give it some thought. Stop to smell the roses, taste the champagne, and make the most of the experiences you have. Despite cultural and language gaps, love of the sport is a common bridge that unites motorcycle people everywhere.
Without my British mates my EnduroGP season would have been over well before it ever got off the ground – the idea of doing this on my own my final season of racing would have been catastrophic, though highly entertaining…. but I think I entertained people plenty enough as it was.
With all that said, even though I wish I’d had an “EnduroGP for Dummies” book prior to coming over for round one, I was proud of myself for my ability to cope with unfamiliar places and races, to roll with the punches and (mostly) avoid the ‘stupid American” label, and successfully fulfill the other, better stereotype that us Americans have had overseas lately… we may not know much outside our little New World bubble, but we sure know how to ride a dirtbike!
