Look At Life 1960's Scrambling

Found this good glimpse into another world that once was over at http://www.sideburnmagazine.com Thanks G!

Check yo self befo you wreck yo self

The old knee wrap ice machine. My old friend, I have not seen for years. Just a simple line of plumbing coming out of a small igloo cooler.  A small electric pump, an analog control valve with a mercury thermometer, and a wrap to compress over the knee. I have had three knee surgeries. Some more successful than others but the last one has left me pretty good.

When I was young I landed my self 86 hours of court appointed therapy. This would have been a total bummer had it not been that my therapist was a rather interesting and intelligent man of  psychology. And an outspoken user of LSD. The old fellow talked and I listened. One lesson I learned from him that I have taken to heart: If you don’t want to get caught, don’t break more than one law at a time. If you are going to drive without a license than don’t have a cracked windshield, or roll a stop sign, or not use a turn signal. If you are going to live a life on the run as an outlaw with a warrant out than don’t break any other laws. You can tell how I have used the lesson mostly involving my passion for operating vehicles at speed. Now I mostly use closed course race tracks but it was not always so.

I broke too many rules last weekend and that is why I have the companionship of my old ice pack machine. Friday was a mad scramble for me to finish the complete restoration of my 1998 KX500. A fantasy bike come to fruition. I had never ridden one other than customer test drives around the shop I have wrenched in. Saturday I awoke and rushed the big green dragon of a mythical bike to the local pro motorcross track. The reputation of the bike was up to snuff. Fast. Scary. Scary fast. I was constantly giggling at the gobs of horsepower the big bore two stroke would cough out at any rpm. I over shot more jumps last weekend than I have for the last ten years. Power galore but suspension way way way to under sprung. But as the weekend progressed I kept pushing it farther and farther. Until I was battling with the A riders who were not as old as my bike. The perfect storm was building. Not only was I breaking more than one rule at a time but I was breaking many. They stopped making 500 cc two strokes along with three wheeled atvs for a reason. They are unforgiving and undersprung in my case. Sunday afternoon, and I was getting tired. I was outfitted in ridicules 90’s freestyle motocross gear, The thick canvas cow skin pant weighed a ton and were like giant bucket scoops around my boot heels. Wallace said he was going to get right up in the corner and I was eager to give him a glory shot for his camera lens. I rode into the corner as hard as a Bruce Lee roundhouse and gave the throtlle the beans. Right  then the meat of the berm blew out under the assault of such shredding and as the suspension compressed an absurd amount my knee became pinned under the handlebars. My foot attempted to posthole into the loam. My knee brace earned it’s weight in titanium. With out it I would not be walking today, but hobbling. My own medical prognoses is merely stretched tendons. Not torn. Lucky I am. And reminded once again to not break more than one rule at a time. Anybody want to buy a bad ass KX500?

Game on!

Well the friendly people of the Pikes Peak race committee have welcomed me back to race once more. This will be my 11th year on the hill. One of those as Crew for Paul, two years on bikes with with nearly as many cubic centimeters of displacement as feet of elevation at the summit, and the other seven years on 450cc Honda dirt bikes. Back to the fun of it is my plan for this year. No carefully worded press releases or expensive matching wardrobes. Just a van, a dog and a DIRTBIKE. And of course some good friends. So far Johnny Mother Fucking Goldwrench has come on board with major help along with some help from good friend Julian with Dues Motorcycles USA. I plan on upgrading my good ol Pink To Purple steed with a slipper clutch and a Lectron carb. It is a 450cc comeback attack and I am as eager as a squirrel on a tour of a peanut factory!

Crowning turd

The days are now slowly getting longer. Waning towards the racing season. Can I make it. I know I can but sometimes feel the darkness take hold like an endless dream of a tar pit dragging me down into winter's digesting foul bowels. Waiting to be shat out and free to be the happy throttling turd I am.  This is the time of the season I plan my attack. Devise the battle plan and make the most of what worn weapon I have heaped in my shop. Making a nickel purchase a dimes worth. The commerce of my business nears hibernation. A ground squirrel holed up in the frozen dirt. The heart beats so faint, feeding only enough blood to keep the brain alive. Ready for the first sign of the season to re-boot and slowly shake away the inactive death virus that many a man has fell victim. Replenishing health and the divine will of nature to shred. Shred!

Getting through winter the only way I know how

Bigger is better.

I have gone overkill with the engine. 750 high comp wisecos, Web number two cam, VM36 round slides, Gutted bottom end, cut down, knifed, polished, and welded crank, Accel total loss coil. YZ front end and rear wheel with RM swing arm. I have much to do to the frame and shock mounts. Shed life.