Cycle News - Archive Issues - 1970's

I- -- - -----_. - - - - _•• ---- -------. ~ . M '"n e ~ 0.. .... en .... N By David Swift Steve McQueen. Ah, how the name conjures up images of the blond, trim movie star decked in Levis and sunglasses standing on the pegs of a Triumph, negotiating great leaps. Or perhaps he's in a nifty turtle neck sweater shpving the shifter of a superfast Mustang back and forth as he streaks th rough the streets of San FranCisco. The all Amer,ican stud. The Steve McQueen that P.R. men have created is a myth, of course, and there's nothing wrong with a man fantasizing as a form of relaxation. The real Steve McQueen, however, is much more fascinating, particularly when compared to the myth. I entered the North Hollywood offices of his company, Solar Productions, one afternoon where he was viewing rushes of a flIm he was doing on the Le Mans race. He and Jack Klawitter were trying to reach an agreement about the presentation. The hassle was painfully typical; Steve is exercising his' creative control while Jack complains that CBS is hollering for the complete project. Oddly, there is no anger, only respect. Soon, we strolled down the hall to his lavish office to begin the inte.rview. '''Let's get out of this madhouse," he muttered. "We'll find a brick wall 'somewhere and talk." We headed for the I?arking lot. My neck craned for 'what..: a Ferarri? or merely a Porsche Speedster? .. nope, a new Chevy pick-up 'corn,plete with tie-downs and a loading ramp. He poked it into drive and we sped to a dead-end, overlooking the L.A. River. He plopped down on the curb and began talking without the urging of a question. "Man, you've got to have a place to ride. Soon the governm!'n t will have to designate public land for bikes. 1 have a 10-year-old son who. races a Yamaha mini-enduro - if he keeps up his grades - and he bought it with his own money. The whole motorcycle thing h.eIps the father-soil relationship... it's the best thing to come around in a long time. So the governmen t's. got to take the responsibility. In Palm Springs, I talked to some official! there, and they're beginning to see the problem. "Honda gave 50 or 60 motorcycles for juvenile delinquents - the dopers and stealers - to use under supervision. Now they're involved with bikes. Take a 15-year-old boy and if he wants to be competitive,. let him compete on a bike. If motorcycle manufacturers and the government would both donate something, juvenile delinquency would drop 75 percent. It's always been my first love. We gotta bring around the youngsters. " I fired my loaded question: "Which would you rather have, a Ferarri or a Husqvarna?" Steve blinked a couple of times and smiled, "Let me put it this way. I love dirt riding and I love my trusty Husky. I've got three, a 400 Cross, a 400 8-speed, and a 250 Cross. I can't think of a better way to spend money." "Then bikes are your number one form of relaxation?" "Yes. Most definitely. Well, Number two, really... " there is a good deal of laughter. . The subject of Bruce Brown's new film, "On Any Sunday", was introduced. McQueen is supplying a large part of the financial backing for the film so I asked him how he got interested in it. . "I don't remember how it came about. When I met hiffi while he was making "The Endless Summer" we had only one thing in c;;ommon - bikes. Brown is an incredible filmmaker. No one can give an articulate explanation of an iron shoe or a hare 'n' hound the way he can. And Malcom Smith and Mert LawwiIl will be getting the credit they deserve." We tal ked about McQueen's motorcycling care~r from the very wells. But it sure did get through the terrain better than some 40-inchers. Some called 'em a fore.ign species but soon everybody had one. Even today when I go to Bud Ekins' shop and order a two-stroke part I get funny looks." I asked Steve how being an actor affects h is racing career, both driving and riding. I also asked about the' reputation he has for demanding to perform his own stunts. "Being an actor has always been a weight on my back. It made me the person to beat. It was bad. And the studios gave me a bad time. They pulled my car racing insurance so I went into motorcycles. "I used to do all my own stunts a long time ago when I felt I had something to prove. Now I enjoy sleeping in, if possible; knowing somebody else is knocking himself out." On two occasions an associate of McQueen's would appear to have a few brief words. During the two hours we were perched on the curb, I would put down the note book and become engaged in a down-home rap, bench-racing and the like. McQueen, naturally, is no different than most Sunday racers and is happy to be able to go to Indian Dunes and be a regular dude. He menti'oned how his insurance wouldn't let him race Elsinore this year ("I gave my entry to another guy and he got the hell photographed out of him. ") and how the studios thwart his riding habits. He can't ride while he's making a film, and if they had their way, he probably wouldn't ride <,t all. He described his current adventures . in motocross as "a whole new love affair. I'm getting where I can handle beg~ning. "I was working as a beach boy in Miami. My first bike was an Indian Chief - '40 or '41 - this was in 1951 or '52 - I was just plugging around. I left a big grease spot in front of my apartment anG-some old lady slipped in it and fell. I had to sell it. "Then I bought a 1942 45-inch Harley. "Later, in New York, I had a 650 BSA Golden Flash or something like that. Me and these two other guys one with a Manx Norton and the other with a BMW - took a trip to Florida and got on a boat and went to Cuba. This was just before Castro took over. We rode from one tip to the other, 850 kilometres. "I got a Harley Knucklehead about the time I started acting, then a Triumph 650. 1 first racea a series and I couldn't believe it! I ran into a guy named Bud Ekins and bough t an old Triumph from hiffi to race in the desert. It had the wires hanging out it and everything. I fell off of it right away. "Ekins really paved the way for me. He paved the way for a lot of people. He in-traduced me to some people and started a lot of good relationships for me. "I ran my first enduro, my first hare 'n' hound. I couldn't believe it! I walked' back a lot, though. I made a lot of friends with some cactus, rocks, and turtles, too. "I remember the first two-stroke. It sounded like someone was hitting a can with a ball-peen hammer. The front fender was bent up underneath the fork ----- --..; ,'i/ • I ~ _ 'I \ I wonder what possessed him to want to ride one of those "crazy, noisy rno torcycles... " "The thing that iffipressed me the. most about motorcycles was the great sense of freedom. You're wi th the elements. Out in the desert I learned to ,read the terrain. There's no audience you have to please. You can run the greatest race in the world and no one knows... all my victories are personal victories. And I've made a lot of friends with turtles." Are these days gone? "No, I just got into motocross." At this point he chose to smile rather than elaborate. I asked him'if he intended to make a film about motorcycling that would, well, "tell it like it is." "I'm completing the script right now. It's the story of two guys. Not Fauss and Halsey, not "Easy Rider"., not "The Wild One". And they're not fags. I can't tell you any more or TV will steal the idea and ruin it. JI Who do you think is the most important person in the microcosm of mo torcycling? . "Everyone who's got a dirt bike in the back of his pick-up and is looking for a place to ride." All the time the interview took place, just -a few yards away repairmen were replacing a barrier a drunk driver had removed while parking his car in the river. Occasionally the workers would stare at us, nudge each other and point. my Husky just so... " Once I brought up the name of Terry Clar,k. "Oh my God!" he exlaimed. "Unbelievable! They ought to take all the Terry Clarks and Mark Blackwells and make them ride handcuffed!" As we got back in the Chevy, he mentioned that he had some work done to the engine. On a wide, empty street, he proceeded to demonstrate the awesome accelleration of the V-8. The truck pitched heavily as he braked hard, and the whole experience felt neat. "-It doesn't exactly handle like a BMW," he said while his ears we{e connected with a grin. He dropped me off in front of his offices and sped to an appoi;, tment a bit late. McQueen ~had talked for an hour more than he-had scheduled but didn't seem 'to mind. :Perhaps it was because we talked bike·talk ,or maybe because he was way from telephon.e~. At any rate, it was enjoyable for both of us. There was on particular comment that sums up his attitude: "The only good victories are private. If a guy wins a motocross h-e'll get a ~ss and a trophy. But the things he remembers most is the guy he beat, O.r the comer he took the fastest." At 40 years of age, Sieve McQueen is taking comers pretty fast, and he's getting faster. He's also doing a helluva lot for the "image", if we can't get through to the legislators, there's always the legislators' wives... .~ - U

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