64 · T H E U N D E R DOG A DVA N TAG E
spikes in the tracks so it would grab and grip faster. I found a way to adjust the suspension so it was hard and strong and not too bouncy, so the front end wouldn’t go up. I found a way to adjust the clutching and the gears to my weight so it shifted quicker, and increase the speed significantly without spending thousands of dollars. So, in my little town of Marlborough, New York, I became the king of the snowmobile races. No one beat me and people came frommiles away to try. It was awesome. They’d pull up with their fancy trailers, and I’d just get excited—because I’d pull up withmy pickup truck with a box of tools and drag my snowmobile off my pickup truck and race these guys that spent way more money on their snowmobiles than I did. But that was only for fun at an old airport where peoplemet on Sundays whenever there was snow on the ground. One day after winning about fifteen races in a row, someone said, “Why don’t you race professionally? They have whole leagues for this.” I had no idea. I was only racing against hobbyists, like me. So I said what the heck? I called and registered, then drove about two hours the following Saturday to my first event. I got third place out of the gate. I raced against people that
GO TAKE THE FREE, 30-DAY BETTER LIFE CHALLENGE AT THEBETTERLIFE.COM FOR TRANSFORMATION AND PRIZES.
Made with FlippingBook - professional solution for displaying marketing and sales documents online