Unqualified Stay-at-Home Dad Trains for GS Trophy Qualifying

[Hugh Janus]

The author and his son aboard the 2023 BMW R 1250 GS. (Seth Richards/)

I swallowed hard when I saw the email: “YOU’RE BOOKED,” it read. “Thank you for registering for the GS Trophy Qualifier on Thursday, October 12.”

It may as well have said, “YOU’RE COOKED,” because now it’s official: I’m participating in the first motorcycle competition of my life, going up against accomplished amateur off-road riders with serious aspirations. And I’ve got just two months to train. Yeah, I’m cooked.

The GS Trophy Qualifier is a national competition that decides the top three male riders and the top two female riders to represent the US at the BMW International GS Trophy. Every two years, beginning in 2008, the GS Trophy descends on an exotic off-road rider’s paradise: Tunisia in 2008, Mongolia in 2018, Albania in 2022, to name a few. Over the years, it’s become one of the most prestigious competitions in the world for amateur off-road riders. In 2024, the Trophy will be in Namibia, one of the least densely populated countries in the world, and the driest country in sub-Saharan Africa. Sixteen men’s teams and six women’s teams from around the world will compete in various special tests and rally stages to put their country at the tip of adventure riders’ tongues for the next two years.

The R 1250 GS in the author’s backyard in Upstate New York. (Seth Richards/)

Representing one’s country in the Trophy and riding a brand-new GS with your name printed on the beak is the goal, but it’s also a reward for talent honed by years of hard work and training. The majority of the 80–100 Qualifier participants know they won’t make it to the international final, so for them the national qualifiers are the main event. And they train accordingly.

Trophy Qualifying requires a pretty unique skill set that involves mastering slow-speed maneuvers that require tremendous finesse and bike control. Think, trials-style riding on a 550-pound twin-cylinder continent-covering touring bike. While a fully loaded GS can cost close to $25,000 brand-new, the Trophy demands riders treat theirs like a crusty old dirt bike they’re not afraid to drop regularly. At least that part won’t be a problem for me—BMW loaned me a brand-new R 1250 GS Trophy, and gave me license to do with it what I will. Heck, if it doesn’t have the odd scratch here and there when I return it this winter, the folks at BMW will probably think I didn’t try hard enough.

And trying hard is a huge reason I’m doing this.

Proof of effort: scratched cylinder head covers despite factory crashbars. For riders training on their own bikes, more complete protection is a must. (Seth Richards/)

The Trophy Qualifying is the first competition of any kind I’ve ever entered—unless I count my fourth grade spelling bee. I’ve always been woefully uncoordinated, so it’s possible that my lack of competitive spirit evolved as a defense mechanism to protect my ego. I’m not going to delve too deeply there. Whatever the reason, I’ve never had a strong desire to take part in any kind of real competition. I still don’t.

Not only that, this is basically the first time I’ve set a tangible goal like this for myself. New Year’s resolutions? Not for me. Run everyday to train for a 30K? What, am I being chased by a rabid, frothing German shepherd? I’m not running, I can tell you that much. That said, it took zero convincing to get me on board for Trophy Qualifying, even though the competitive aspect doesn’t really motivate me. Being intentional and disciplined in improving at the thing I love doing the most, on the other hand, that seems totally worth the effort. Now that I think about it, that’s probably the reason a lot of people enter competitions, isn’t it? But what do I know?

As much as training for the Trophy Qualifying is about chasing after a concrete goal and becoming a more competent rider capable of tackling technical off-road terrain, it’s also about something deeper.

Training at the Soggy Bottom MotoFest in Port Matilda, Pennsylvania, on a muggy 95-degree day. Louise Powers, director of BMW Motorcycle Owners of America and instructor with Stromoto, provides direction. (Rob Bandler/)

In The World Beyond Your Head, philosopher, motorcycle mechanic, and all-around gearhead Matthew B. Crawford writes, “In activities that we take seriously, such as music and sports and going fast, we strive for excellence. Unlike animals that live in the moment and merely cope with their world…we are drawn out of our present selves toward some more skilled future self that we emulate…we are never fully at home in the world. We are always ‘on our way.’ Or perhaps we should say that this state of being on our way to somewhere else is our peculiar human way of being here in the world.”

My problem is that lately I haven’t been “on my way” fast enough (if at all) toward becoming that more skilled future motorcyclist I imagine. As a part-time stay-at-home dad, I don’t have a lot of time or energy left for anything other than living in the moment and keeping up with a litany of daily chores that are never rewarded with a sense of accomplishment. Modern preoccupation can make it feel like we’re not on our way anywhere—as though ambition and the hope of a skilled future self are subsumed to other priorities.

Trophy-spec GS. If nothing else, having it written on the beak helps the author explain to onlookers why he’s practicing going really, really slowly in parking lots. (Seth Richards/)

Make no mistake, raising my kids is my priority and my greater good, but I miss doing things. By engaging with external objects, learning new skills in something I’m passionate about, and pushing myself to do something I’ve never done before, I hope it will help me be less distracted and more fully here in the world.

Through the action of skilled practices, Crawford argues, one becomes fit to the job and fit to the place. In essence, willingly submitting to outside realities, to the world beyond your head—in my case, the particularities of the R 1250 GS and the environment in which I’ll ride it—can create genuine agency. With that, I’m hoping that circumstances, like a rough day at home with the kids, conjunctivitis ravaging my household, or last-minute day care closures, will become less mentally and emotionally dictatorial in light of the attention-refocusing effort of, for instance, executing a textbook trials stop in 95-degree weather—while conjunctivitis rages in one eye.

So why choose the GS Trophy Qualifying as my competitive debut? Honestly, I would never have thought of it myself. Executive Editor Dawes brought up the idea in a meeting with BMW, and I committed on the spot. Give me a new motorcycle to play with and there’s no telling what sort of out-of-my-element activity I’ll agree to. In all seriousness, participating in the GS Trophy Qualifying is perfect for a variety of reasons, chief among them its focus on fundamental motorcycle control.

Shawn Thomas and Louise Powers of Stromoto. Immediately after taking delivery of the GS, the author attended a half-day riding clinic to get his head in the game. Thomas and Powers are BMW brand ambassadors and are exceptional instructors. (Seth Richards/)

According to Shawn Thomas, BMW brand ambassador and riding instructor, 80 percent of the skills one needs on an adventure bike can be introduced in a half-day clinic. “The simple truth,” he says, “is that balance, braking, clutch and throttle control are the fundamentals. Learning the nuances of these is relatively easy. Learning to combine them, shape them, find the limits and contradictions—that’s the fun part.”

One advantage of training for the Trophy Qualifying is that I’ll be able to practice combining and shaping those fundamentals practically anywhere, and without great danger to life, limb, or driver’s license. So, as much as I’d love to up my trackday speed (and I do), going to the gravel lot behind the local highway department after the kids go to bed and practicing box turns is much more feasible—and not irrelevant for track riding or any other discipline, it must be said.

Getting the lay of the land at the Soggy Bottom MotoFest, organized by Kissell Motorsports in Tyrone, Pennsylvania. (Rob Bandler/)

In order to properly train for this thing, first I have to know how to train. Over the coming weeks I’ll be attending riding clinics with instruction from past Team USA Trophy riders. I’ll also be attending the trophy prep course at the BMW Performance Center in South Carolina, where qualifying will be held several weeks later. Other than that, it’s on me to be disciplined enough to practice regularly to see real improvement in my riding.

Two months is not a lot of time. Am I cooked? Well, maybe not. To me, success is in the discipline of doing it, the acquisition of new skills, the striving for excellence, and the hope of “being on my way.”

To quote Crawford again: “the world shows up for us through its affordances; it is a world that we act in, not merely observe. And this means that when we acquire new skills, we come to see the world differently.”

Enough observing. It’s time I see the world differently. Heaven knows I wouldn’t be the first person to ride a GS to ever say that. Stay tuned.

Evening homework. (Seth Richards/)

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