The Mexicana 400

    Le Mans. Isle of Man. Baja. Laguna Seca. Dakar. Mugello. Bonneville. The Nürburgring.  Daytona. Some race events throw such a wide net on our imaginations that the location itself overwhelms the record books, the teams, the engineering and transforms a location on a map into a symbol for humankind's unending quest to redefine the physical limits that shape our lives. Missing from that short list is a flat, grassy field in New Somerset, Ohio where Man and machine struggle against one another -and themselves- for Glory and Victory only known to a special few. The event is, of course, The Mexicana 400.

    When I reach back through the sundered veil of time, and recount my misspent 20's; many of the most grotesque moments of pitched debauchery and frivolity were had at the annual Band Camp rally, hosted by The Pittsburgh Vintage Scooter Club (PVSC). Every year, they rent an isolated marching band practice field, and create a vast, drunken slumber party for anyone with a penchant for underpowered italian machinery. One highlight is the Saturday afternoon games. The most epic of which being the Mexicana.

    For the un-initiated, let me explain the event. The Mexicana combines a flat-track circuit race, an eating contest, and a drinking contest. Before the race, the scooters are lined up on the track, engines off, with racers gathered off to the side (LeMans -style start). Racers must wear the ceremonial garb to compete: 1. Sombrero -large, caricaturesque & 2. A Curly Moustache - Optional for those already with Mustache. At the word "Go!" racers must start by eating a foul, uncooked burrito. Once they have finished -with an empty open mouth, a judge approves them to go. They run to the scooter, start it up and complete one lap around the track. On returning, they now must drink one Corona -no foaming or overflow allowed, the beer must be drank in entirety. A judge again validates the drank beer and the racer heads out for a second lap. On completion of the lap, the racer drinks a Margarita, and after the judge, leaves for the third lap. Upon finishing the third lap, the racer takes a shot of tequila and heads out for the fourth and final lap. The first racer to cross the line wins, unless they puked -in which case, they have to restart the entire event. Its tons of fun to watch and race in, but it is serious seriuzz business if you're trying to win.

Let's Review:

PRO TIP: Bring a Napkin, Burritos are slimy, the napkin helps you keep hold of the damn thing, and keeps the slime off of your throttle. 

PRO TIP: Relax/Sustain your swallow reflex, and exhale out of your nose -it will allow you to pour the whole beer down your throat. 
 













PRO TIP: Even seemingly dry grass is very slippery, use the rear brake only and sparingly. 

PRO TIP: Cheating is not permitted, but highly recommended, check your fuel tap Noob!

    The only reason I won the Mexicana the year I did was a combination of good luck and tenacious effort. I had been trying & failing for several years in a row. Losing because certain racers would start the first lap without finishing the burrito, simply shoe-horning it into their mouths and taking off. Then around corner 3 on the other side of the track they'd spit it out. Creativity has its rewards. The year I won it, was the first year the PVSC judges were very strict about finishing the burrito in front of them. I know I wasn't the fastest on the track, and not the fastest eating the burrito, but I was the fastest of both. I also benefited from Nak'd Dav "stalling" in front of my nearest competition, Greg McCormick who still nearly caught up to me. Whew!

    The burrito and the corona are what really decide the race. Some people think I was working at Zoot Scoots because I needed a 'job' or was good at 'mechanics'. In reality, I was studying at the foot of a hyperbolic drinker, A Shaolin Monk with a sixer of Becks. He guided my path towards enlightenment and got my Corona-Chug-Time (C.C.T.) under 8 seconds, which was still pathetic compared to his own C.C.T. of approx. 4.3 seconds.

 

Here's a clip of me getting p'wned back in '06. I got way far back by my borrowed machine refusing to start, then stalling around turn two of the first lap. Note my obvious annoyance with the "burrito wedgers". Also, near the end of the clip everybody "OOhhhhs" at Joe Casola (on the green bike), nearly passing Greg, but then wiping out on the last corner, unfortunately off-camera.

Here are some other random pictures of PVSC Band Camp silliness, of which I am very nostalgic for: