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Poughkeepsie Journal- Poughkeepsie, NY

November 16, 2003  Section: Players  Page: C06
Mangled leg can't halt local racer's passion
Poughkeepsie Journal
by Nancy Haggerty

Dennis Decker remembers that first motorcycle race.
   
  ''I was the worst rider you could possibly imagine,'' he said. ''I
sucked bad but I really wanted to do it. It was muddy, raining, nasty. I
couldn't wait to do it again.''
 
     Twenty-two years later, Decker, who was halfway through building
renovations after just moving his Bikeway shop to Wappingers Falls, finally
allowed himself second thoughts. Brief ones.

  He was lying in a Florida woods for two hours, shivering in an early
March rain, waiting for rescue workers to reach him via ATV. His right
tibia and fibula were broken so badly that his boot was basically the only
thing holding his leg together. A stuck throttle had ended his day and his
entire 2003 racing season. But what it ultimately couldn't do was end his
desire.

     ''It's the competition,'' Decker said, explaining why he travels from
the Midwest to the South 14 weekends a year to compete in the Grand
National Cross Country Off-Road Racing Series. ''There's not much glory.
It's for the love of the sport. That's all it is."

     A rod now running from his knee to his foot, Decker, 40, of Taghkanic
will return in February to the GNCC circuit for its 2004 kickoff in Texas.
His goal is to best his 2002 showing when he was the 21st best rider of any
age in the country and the 30-39-year-old Vet Class national champion.

  GNCC can best be explained as a tougher version of motocross, the
sport in which Decker competed seriously for nine years (three as pro) and
still dabbles. Motocross races last 30 minutes max and are run on
relatively short, spectator-friendly tracks. GNCC races last two to three
hours on 10- to 15-mile trails that wind through dense woods and open
fields, sometimes incorporating motocross tracks as part of the run.

  Endurance is key, guts a requirement. Racers start in 10 or more rows
and sometimes as many as 500 are on a course at once.

  To put conditions into perspective, race organizers not only had to
pull competitors' RVs from the race area after the Florida competition, but
had to tow them in before the weekend started.

  It's not uncommon that Decker finds himself losing precious seconds,
pulling his 250-pound, 250cc Suzuki from mud. At other times, foot-deep
dust impedes bikes. Dust, in fact, can make it impossible to see five feet
and, yet, racers must navigate around trees and over logs and rocks.

  ''I'm hoping I don't get killed (when it's like that),'' said Decker,
who sometimes hits 70 mph-plus crossing fields, but, sloshing through gas
tank-high water, was probably going all of 30 when hurt last March.
Strenuous training required
  Decker, who grew up in Pleasant Valley, rides conventional bikes and
lifts weights to train. Racing is taxing. Seventy percent of the time, he's
standing up on his motorcycle.

  Add in the fact the nearest GNCC competition is in western
Pennsylvania and that Decker, who receives performance-based sponsorship,
goes through $160 worth of tires each race and spends eight hours prepping
his bike for each competition, and it's clear the sport isn't for everyone.

  But Decker isn't everybody. He's the guy who was the 2000 and 2001 New
York Mud and Snow Scrambles overall champion, (riding on spiked tires,
sometimes through foot-deep snow) a guy who rode pro Supercross at Giants
Stadium and a guy who competes summers in Trials races, riding over
obstacles on a small motorcycle with a small front wheel, big back wheel
and no seat -- the object being to touch one's foot to the ground fewer
times than others do.

  No, Decker, who during his first year of motocross went from worst
amateur to third place in expert (with a broken foot sandwiched in between)
isn't everybody. Instead, he's the guy who limped from his Florida hospital
bed determined to have plenty more racing tomorrows.

  ''I happen to be good and enjoy doing it. I don't really foresee not
doing it,'' said Decker, who is moving up to the senior, 40-49-year-old
class, but is already eying riding one day in the 50-plus class.

  Why race? Why motorcycles? Why for so long? And why for three hours at
a time? The answer's easy.

  ''There's nothing like being dead tired and turning the throttle and
going 50 miles per hour through the woods,'' he explained.

PROFILE  DENNIS DECKER
Age: 40
Profession: Owner Bikeway bicycle shops in Wappingers Falls and Mahopac
Town: Taghkanic
Family: Single
Hobbies: Mountain bike and road bike riding and fishing      




May 21, 2006  Section: SPORTS  Page: H06
Decker dominating cross-country circuit
Poughkeepsie Journal
Without Limits
by Nancy Haggerty

  The nature of the sport means you won't find his name in many
headlines.

  But that seems to be just fine with Dennis Decker, who loves to race
his motorcycle but is reluctant to talk about his successes.

  And they have been numerous.

  For two-and-a-half years, the Pleasant Valley resident has dominated
the Grand National Cross Country Series Senior A division. Senior means
40-plus. 'A' means expert.

  But at 42, Decker is not only the country's best 40-plus riders but
one of its top cross country riders period. After taking the 2004 GNCC
Senior A title, he repeated last year, winning races in Texas, Florida,
Georgia, Tennessee, Ohio and West Virginia, with seconds in North and South
Carolina and New York.

  First in a field of 44 after a perfect 5-for-5 starts in 2006, he
appears on his way to a three-peat.

  Depending on location and weather, cross country tracks can include
miles of sand, rock, mud and trees. One upcoming race in Maryland starts on
golf driving range and goes up a steep, rocky ski slope.

  ''It's different at every race, which is what makes it fun,'' said
Decker, who'll probably do 10 or 11 cross country races this year, a
racer's top nine finishes counting in the scoring.

  During 12-mile-long laps, Decker will sometimes travel 70 miles per
hour, sometimes two mph. Racers usually get in five to seven laps during a
three-hour race, with the cutoff occurring when the leader crosses the line
after about two hours and 45 minutes.

  Racers start in rows determined by class. If a division includes 50
riders, 50 riders start side by side in an open field, racing to gain
position entering narrow trails. The next row starts one minute later, the
next another minute later, and so on.

  Decker starts in the eighth row, seven rows behind the pros, some of
whom he'll occasionally pass. Starting behind him are intermediate riders.
It's common for 300 riders to be on a course and that's after 300-400
novices have already ridden it.

Difficult conditions

  The result can be mud and deep ruts or choking dust. With mud, ''It's
a matter of not flying in full speed but of using your head,'' said Decker.

  Sometimes riders can't free their stuck 230-or-so-pound bikes; other
times they do but lose a ''whole lap's worth of energy,'' Decker noted.

  Experience helps and Decker has that. He has been in about 400 races,
including 300 motocross. He did supercross and motocross in the 1980s,
racing pro motocross for a while.  Currently, he's the reigning two-time
champ of the American Motorcycle Association's Hare Scrambles, which are
akin to cross country and incorporate some GNCC races.

  His times indicate he'd do well if moving to a younger, more
competitive GNCC division, and he has even toyed with going pro. But time
is a sticking point. Owning Bikeway cycle shops in Wappingers and Mahopac
and also renovating houses, there isn't much of it -- not with driving to
these far-flung races. And what limited time he has, Decker doesn't want to
spend training.

  Decker's work; nightly jogs with his 8-month old puppy, Jim; and races
every other weekend keep him in pretty good shape.

 "At some point there's going to be a rider who shows up in my class
who's faster than me and I'm going to have to train. The reason I'm not
training is because I don't need to,'' he said.

  That doesn't mean he isn't sometimes challenged. In Georgia in March,
he was sixth early on before he ''got it together.''

  ''It takes me a couple of laps to get going,'' said Decker, who added,
''It's not like I'm out in front and don't see anybody. I have to work for
it a little bit.''

  He also spends a bit of money. Hating to beg for sponsorship, he
doesn't seek it. Instead, Decker funds his own racing, supplemented by the
$500 contingency fee he wins from Suzuki, his bike's manufacturer, and $100
contingency fee he wins from Maxxis, his tire supplier, each time he wins a
race in his division.

  But Decker isn't complaining.

  Explaining what drives him, he said, ''It's about loving the sport and
the competition.''  ''Winning,'' he added, ''makes it a lot more fun, for
sure.''
DennisDeckerRacing.com