RACING THE HANGTOWN 450 NATIONAL ON A WHIM, ON A STOCKER, WITH HIS WIFE AS HIS MECHANIC

 

MXA’s assistant editor Josh Mosiman last raced a Pro National in 2018 when he injured his shoulder. He decided on Monday before Hangtown to renew his Pro license and line up on a stock bike.

BY JOSH MOSIMAN

The idea was satisfying, the preparation was stressful, the race was exhausting, and the recovery was painful, but the memory is good. It’s weird how a racer’s mind works. Going back to 2007 when I was 11 years old, I vividly remember telling my best friend Jordi that I didn’t want to be a Pro racer if that meant I was a privateer begging people for money so I could continue calling myself a “Professional.” Even from a young age, I knew there were only a few riders who truly “made it.” 

My parents paid for my brother and I to have the best equipment available, leaving us without excuses. They paid for my brother’s riding until factory teams began to sponsor him, and now he’s getting paid to race. As for me, I made a few good paychecks, but, luckily, I was smart enough to know that if my dad was spending more than what I was making in prize and sponsor bonuses, it wasn’t an actual career, it was just a hobby. I earned a National number and Professional status, but I still wasn’t making a living. 

After racing 26 total National events (two full 12-race seasons in 2016 and 2017, plus the first two rounds in 2018) and 10 Supercross events in 2018 (six rounds of 250 West and four rounds in the 450 class on the East Coast), I suffered a serious shoulder injury. During my long rehab, I decided my stint as a full-time racer was over. I wanted to marry my now-wife Ashley, and I wasn’t making enough money as a racer to flip any real bills. 

Josh chose MXA’s 2022 KTM 450SXF and put the stock KTM 450SXF suspension and engine to the test at the highest level.

I didn’t retire per se; I just went a different route and took a job as assistant editor at Motocross Action. Then, on a whim, I decided to race the 2021 Hangtown National on MXA’s bone-stock 2022 KTM 450SXF. Hangtown was my hometown race, and it was the season finale. At this point in the season, many top riders were injured, and I had just finished watching two of my compatriot MXA test riders—Dennis Stapleton and Ezra Lewis—qualify for the 450 class at Fox Raceway. It motivated me to renew my AMA Pro license and line up at the Hangtown finale six days later.

“I COMMITTED TO RACE ON MONDAY, RODE THE BIKE ON TUESDAY, FINISHED ARTICLES FOR MXA’S DEADLINE ON WEDNESDAY, DROVE TO NORTHERN CALIFORNIA LATE ON THURSDAY NIGHT, PREPPED MY KTM 450SXF ON FRIDAY AND RACED ON SATURDAY.”

There are some physiological endorphins that go off when we voice our goals to our peers. I’ve done this my whole life, but it wasn’t until I was at dinner with my brother, Michael Mosiman, and my parents back in 2019 that I learned about the physiological aspect of it. My dad asked my brother about his goals for the upcoming season, and Michael explained that he didn’t want to share them, because if he did, he would have less motivation to reach for them. I thought he was a weirdo, but he explained that voicing his goals would release endorphins at dinner that night, making him feel partially successful before he even lined up for a race and therefore giving him less of a reason to actually accomplish the goals. I had felt a sense of pride when I decided to race Hangtown, and I knew it would be even harder on me if I told lots of people about my plans, but I did it anyway.

I committed to race on Monday, rode the bike on Tuesday, finished articles for MXA’s deadline on Wednesday, drove to Northern California late on Thursday night, prepped my KTM 450SXF on Friday and raced on Saturday. As an MXA test rider, I get to ride a lot and can race as much as I’d like to, but my actual racing fitness isn’t what it used to be. For every hour we spend at the track riding, we spend more hours behind the computer or camera producing the articles you read and videos you watch. My fitness is to the point where I can ride 100 percent for a few laps, or I can ride at 80 percent for a long time; however, when it comes to two qualifying sessions and two 35-minute motos on a rough National track, I wasn’t prepared for it one bit.

Josh’s wife, Ashley Mosiman, was his mechanic for the day. Here she is showing him the pit board mid-moto.

“I LOVE MY JOB AT MXA, AND I’M NOT ATTEMPTING TO MAKE A CAREER OUT OF RACING.
MXA PAYS ME THE SAME—WIN OR LOSE.”

I didn’t expect the nerves to come back as hard as they did for my one-off joy race. I’m three years older now. I’m married. I love my job at MXA, and I’m not attempting to make a career out of racing. MXA pays me the same—win or lose. Still, the nerves came back strong, especially after talking to so many people on Friday and hearing the different reactions to my last-minute decision. Some people thought I would be an easy top-20 finisher; others looked at me sideways wondering if I was just hoping to make the motos. I knew I could qualify easily, but I was unsure about how long I would last. I went from running around Pala Raceway with a media vest and a camera, conducting interviews, taking photos and narrating videos one week prior, to Hangtown where I was taking my wheels to the Dunlop pit for some fresh MX33s. 

To make matters even more interesting, I decided to race on MXA’s stock 2022 KTM 450SXF. How come? Allow me to delineate with four main points.

(1) Engine. The stock KTM 450SXF has a smooth powerband that is ridable, with plenty of power to do anything I need.

(2) Suspension. The WP XACT air forks took a big leap forward for 2021 and stayed the same for 2022. The oil-bypass notches, air oil-bleed holes, and trampoline shim valving create a plush sensation that promotes confidence, traction and comfort on the track.

(3) Chassis. The chromoly steel frame is forgiving and doesn’t punish me if I miss my line or have the wrong suspension settings.

(4) Weight. The KTM is already the second-lightest bike in the class (only 1 pound heavier than the GasGas), and it doesn’t need a bunch of aftermarket parts to make it competitive.

Josh and Ashley on the line.

“WHEN I TOLD JODY THAT I WANTED TO RUN A COMPLETELY STOCK BIKE, HE INSISTED THAT I RUN POWER PARTS FACTORY WHEELS BECAUSE HE SAID THAT YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT CRAZY
THINGS THE TRACK DESIGNER MIGHT PUT INTO THE DESIGN.”

For further context, I ride stock bikes all the time, and I’m always thinking about racing and wondering how I could do at a National on a stock machine. Plus, even if I wanted to get the suspension built for me, I wouldn’t have enough time to test it before the race.

I did upgrade three items on the bike. I installed a Guts Racing Wing seat cover. You might have seen it before on Dean Wilson’s bike. I used it in 2017 and 2018 and wanted it back on my bike for this race. Guts makes a seat cover with foam inserts on the side of the seat that stick out and enable you to grip the bike better. It’s not great aesthetically, but it works wonders for saving energy by increasing grip. I also added a Works Connection Pro Launch starting device, and, when I told Jody that I wanted to run a completely stock bike, he insisted that I run Power Parts Factory wheels because he said that you never know what crazy things the track designer might put into the design. To be on the safe side, we swapped the wheels over from our Husqvarna Rockstar Edition FC450 for the weekend. Otherwise, the suspension valving, engine, muffler, handlebars, grips, footpegs, chain, sprockets and the rest of the bike were all stock.

Before I knew it, Saturday morning arrived, and I could hardly eat. I was having flash-backs to my rookie outdoor National season when my nerves wouldn’t allow me to eat enough calories to sustain myself on race day. My wife, who was also my mechanic for the day, tried to help me any way she could, but I was indecisive about everything. And although I was hungry, my stomach was queasy and I didn’t want to eat.

Qualifying went smoothly, and it was really cool to have Ashley on the pit board giving me my lap times. She wasn’t nervous until she hopped on the back of the bike to go to the line. That’s when it got real for her—six days after it got real for me. I qualified 26th overall, and I was content with that. I was in the 450 B group for practice, so I didn’t have to deal with Ken Roczen, Dylan Ferrandis or Eli Tomac, and that made me a little more relaxed. My suspension felt soft on some of the bigger jumps and in the Washougal-style whoops that were added as a tribute to the late Ralph Huffman, owner of the Washougal track. The whoops were Supercross-like and not meant for stock suspension. But, overall, I was still happy with the WP production suspension.

Getting full travel out of the WP air forks.

Ashley scraped the mud off the bike and helped clean the plastic, but the real mechanic duties were up to me. I was so busy preparing for the race on Friday and Saturday morning that I didn’t have time to think about the race, which was probably a good thing. But after qualifying, I had three hours to check spokes, fill up the tank, put in a fresh air filter and put tear-offs on my EKS Brand goggles. Long story short, I finally had some time to rest, eat and think about the race; it wasn’t good.

“I WAS HAVING FLASHBACKS TO MY ROOKIE OUTDOOR NATIONAL SEASON WHEN MY NERVES WOULDN’T ALLOW ME TO EAT ENOUGH CALORIES TO SUSTAIN MYSELF ON RACE DAY.”

I walked to the GasGas rig to bum some chicken and rice off my brother. Wil Hahn was nice enough to make me a plate and even made me a smoothie to drink between motos. I was pitted one row over from Michael’s pit in Teddy Parks’ Fly Racing TPJ (The Privateer Journey) rig, with my bike right next to my good friend, Freddie Noren, who was watched over by my father-in-law, Chris Cole. Chris has been Freddie’s sponsor and mechanic for the 2021 season. Chris and Freddie asked me to pit next to them, and Teddy Parks was gracious enough to let us join the crew for the weekend. It was nice being there, because we had access to a pressure washer, shade, fans, snacks and a premium parking spot. Best of all, I had Chris to help me work on the bike. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to eat Wil Hahn’s chicken and rice. My nerves were growing, and I wasn’t hungry anymore.

The start at Hangtown was extra scary, because immediately after turn two, the riders all launched a 75-foot tabletop side-by-side.

Lining up for the first moto with my wife by my side was special. When I raced the Nationals before, I never paid much attention to Tomac or Roczen. They weren’t my competition any more than I was competition to them. I was looking at the guys who qualified in the top 20, trying to see where I could fit in. Although I’m smarter and I believe I’m a better rider now than I was when I was racing full-time, there’s no substitute for practice. I watch my brother on TV every weekend and see every mistake he makes, usually thinking I could do it better—or at least thinking that if he would listen to me, he wouldn’t have made that mistake. Now it was time to put my newfound race savvy to the test. When the gate dropped for the first moto, instead of tracking straight, I came out sideways and bumped into the rider next to me. Not ideal. 

I was already towards the back of the back on lap one when I got caught behind another rider and crashed. Picking my bike up in dead last, I continued on, caught up to the back of the pack and had another small crash on the next lap. At this point, I was missing my front number plate and embarrassed, but it was still a long moto, and I had a whole other race to make up for it. I figured I’d ride smooth, conserve some energy and maybe I could still get into the low 20s. Wrong, I rode smooth and had lap times on pace with the 20th place guys, but I finished 30th.

“MY START WAS MUCH BETTER. I SNUCK AROUND THE OUTSIDE, AVOIDED THE BIG CRASH AND CAME AROUND THE FIRST COUPLE OF TURNS AT THE FRONT END OF THE PACK. I WASN’T RIGHT BEHIND THE LEADERS, BUT THERE WERE MORE RIDERS BEHIND ME THAN IN FRONT OF ME.”

Wil Hahn’s smoothie came highly recommended by my brother, so I drank it between motos and headed back to the starting line only 40 minutes after my first moto. This time, my start was much better. I snuck around the outside, avoided the big crash, dove between a few guys and came out of the first couple of turns at the front end of the pack. I wasn’t right behind the leaders, but there were more riders behind me than in front of me. I came around on the first lap in 14th. “Great!” I thought. I felt like I could hang onto the top 20, but I was wrong. I got extremely tired at the halfway point and started dropping positions on every lap. The excuses running through my head were endless. “If only I had been able to eat today, then I could’ve done better.” Followed by, “If only I hadn’t driven until 1:30 in the morning on Thursday night to get here.” And, “If only I had a mechanic so I wouldn’t have had to spend so much time on my feet on Friday.” Finally, “If I had stiffer suspension, then I wouldn’t have gotten so tired.”

I ended up 27th in the second moto for 32nd overall. I was warned not to have high expectations by the people I love. I probably should have listened to them. Still, I don’t have any regrets. I enjoyed my time at the Hangtown National, and I wasn’t let down by the stock KTM’s ability to handle a rough track. In retrospect, I had a great race! I was able to line up for a 450 National with my wife by my side, and I got a slap in the face reminding me just how tough racing a National is. Maybe next year I’ll double my preparation time and start thinking about it two weeks early. It’s funny how a racer’s mind works, right?