What happens when an irresistible force meets an immovable object? That vexing question may yet remain unanswered, but one thing is certain—everything else in the vicinity gets blown to smithereens.
This weekend, at the 14th round of the MX2 Motocross World Championship, the irresistible force presented itself in the guise of Camden McLellan, while the immovable object was the Grand Prix track at Lommel.
You might, as a casual observer, think that deep, soft sand would be the most pleasurable and forgiving terrain on which to race, with memories of pleasant, sun-soaked days on the beach informing your opinion. You would be entirely wrong. Racing in deep sand poses severe challenges to both physical and mental wellbeing. The sand acquires a life of its own—and a malevolent one at that—focusing solely on grabbing your bike’s wheels and ripping the handlebars from your ever-more-feeble grasp.
Lommel is one of the most notorious sand venues in the world and has earned itself a reputation as a giant slayer of a track, possessing both the ability and the inclination to swallow bikes, riders and reputations whole. As the races wear on, its complexion changes, becoming ever more vicious as the dips and ruts deepen.
As a South African, Camden McLellan was not imbued with a surfeit of sand-riding skills during his formative years. Like some illustrious compatriots before him, however, he faced his nemesis head-on and turned it into a towering strength. Greg Albertyn, Grant Langston and Tyla Rattray all moistened the track with metaphorical—and perhaps actual—tears during their early outings before gritting it out and becoming acknowledged masters of the sand.
Although Camden seems mildly irked by descriptions of him as a sand rider, such considerations were relegated to the deepest recesses of his mind as he rolled into his race weekend. He claimed pole position during timed qualifying, serving unmistakable notice of intent.
In the qualifying race, he found himself fifth off the start, but it soon became glaringly apparent that he had arrived at the event in quasar mode. The intense focus of his eyes surely left scorch marks on the backs of his opponents as he dispatched them one by one. He displaced race leader Simon Längenfelder with four laps remaining to become the undisputed favourite for Grand Prix honours with a comfortable victory.
Camden fluffed the start somewhat in the opening moto and found himself mired outside the top ten. It seemed as though he took a lap to regroup before activating what one could almost describe as an invincibility mode. He carved methodically through the field, eroding a lead of more than ten seconds that world championship leader—and team-mate—Guillem Farrés had established.
McLellan slotted into second on the ninth lap, still a few seconds adrift of Farrés. The Spaniard was by now hearing the ominous strains of the Jaws theme in full stereophonic detail inside his helmet as the gap visibly shrank. Farrés became increasingly flustered and began making mistakes, which the track, quick to sense weakness, punished mercilessly as it stuck a sandy stick into the spokes of his rhythm.
McLellan danced to victory, seemingly oblivious to the devilish deceit of Lommel, and looked remarkably fresh during his post-race interview. He might even have been tempted by a celebratory ice cream, were it not for the distinct possibility that the still-circulating riders would have rendered it thoroughly sand-encrusted.
By the time race two rolled around, the heavy thunder of the MXGP class had circulated for another 36 minutes, and the track now resembled nothing so much as a full-scale moonscape, with ditches and ruts deep enough to conceal one of the giant wind turbines that now grace the landscape around the circuit.
A much better start launched McLellan into fifth place, with a far smaller deficit to Farrés, who again scampered into the lead. McLellan soon displaced local hero Liam Everts to claim third.
The crowd, sardined around the circuit, enjoyed a sublime display of riding from these young professionals, while here and there a South African flag fluttered enthusiastically in encouragement. Matters became increasingly tense at the front as Längenfelder closed on Farrés, with McLellan looming ever larger in their mirrors.
On lap eight, Camden reached for infinity and beyond, passing his team-mate. Two laps later he made his first probing move for the lead, only for Längenfelder to retaliate immediately. Those pearly-white South African teeth, accustomed to tearing generous chunks from a piece of biltong, clamped firmly together.
McLellan appeared content to bide his time, and on lap twelve he struck decisively. This time the move broke Längenfelder’s resolve. Farrés followed his team-mate through and, by relegating Längenfelder another position, handed Camden a few extra championship points with which to savour the overall victory.
Once in front, McLellan simply waltzed away. Where the others floundered, he floated. The South African flags waved all the more proudly.
McLellan has now climbed to third in the World Championship standings and, while there remains a sizeable deficit to negotiate, he is very much still in the hunt for gold.
He was the picture of serenity as he stepped onto the top step of the podium. What he displayed during Saturday’s interviews was not arrogance—it was knowingness.
We would be remiss if we did not once again mention the stunning trophies that awaited the podium finishers. These were not the usual humdrum plasto-metal dust collectors, but beautifully framed, multi-layered works of art featuring a symbolic eagle beneath a soaring motorcycle in striking three-dimensional relief. They would not have looked out of place in a gallery. They were created by our friend Christian Burnham. A former Motocross World Championship racer, Christian’s artwork stands as a quiet testament to a life that has travelled far beyond the racetrack, reminding us that while racing careers may one day end, the finest victories are sometimes found in discovering who we can become next.
Camden McLellan inscribed his name with indelible strokes in the deep Lommelwood sand. Twice the opposition yielded. In the end, even the Sand Monster had no answer.
He was truly the Double Overhead Cam.
