VOLUME 57 ISSUE 14 APRIL 7, 2020 P83
the swingarm closer to the pivot.
Here we met an American who
had bought the works Maico
that Ake Johnson had used to
win the 1972 Trans-AMA series.
It was still as he had raced it,
and someone said to this fel-
low, "When ya gunna move the
shocks up on that thing?" His
reply was priceless. "When I can
ride it as fast as Ake Johnson
did last year."
On to Atlanta, Georgia, with
an interesting track of red clay
laid out inside the Road Atlanta
road racing track. I wasn't feel-
ing too good, and after a few
laps of practice I decided to
sit it out, grab my camera and
take a few happy snaps of the
action. Laurie's stock 400 CZ
was now getting pretty tired, so
he grabbed my Maico for the
day and finished both races in a
commendable but still cashless
position.
Orlando, Florida was next—a
lap completely composed of
deep black sand—and no one
saw which way Adolph Weil
went. I certainly didn't; by the
end of each leg the sand whoops
were so deep I was feeling sea-
sick.
After spending a few days
lolling around on Cocoa Beach,
it was time to hit the road for Rio
Bravo Park near Houston, Texas,
and it rained most of the way
across from Florida. It was still
raining as the meeting began,
and it never stopped. In the first
leg, the chain dropped off twice
due to the sprocket being buck-
ready for leg two, but despite
fitting a chain from my stock of
ex-works team parts, it broke on
the very last lap. Still no cash in
the kitty.
SOLDIERING ON
IN THE FACE OF
ADVERSITY
Washington, Indiana was next, a
very wet meeting at Snyder MX
Park that brought nothing but
frustration for us with bikes that
were approaching the worn-out
stage. At least we both finished
each leg, in mid-20th positions.
This was the year of the long-
travel rear suspension revolu-
tion, and at every meeting, the
works bikes sported some new,
super-trick setup. The Yama-
has, of course, had the Belgian
Tilkens monoshock system, but
the Maicos, Huskys and Suzukis
all appeared with various ver-
sions of the shocks moved up
that held the seat in place. The
wayward seat was retrieved by a
spectator, who held it up for me
to see as I pressed on, seat-less,
to be classified 29th, standing up
as much as possible but with my
backside copping a fearful beating
from the exposed top frame rails.
The errant nut was liberally doused
in Loctite, and safety wired as well,
