Cycle News is a weekly magazine that covers all aspects of motorcycling including Supercross, Motocross and MotoGP as well as new motorcycles
Issue link: https://magazine.cyclenews.com/i/125732
JOHN RICE-- Still Young and W re " .., " c ~ w Z W ...J (,) > (,) By David Swift Ask someone what th ey think of John Rice and most will say, "He's been around a long time. n He has been around a long time and there is a good chance that he will be around a lot longer. Rice, affectionately known as "John-R" by the entire motorcycle fraternity, is 35 years old and goes just as fast as today's IS-year-old wunderkind. The only thing that makes Rice older is his birth certificate. All other indications put him slightly past the point of puberty. His body is ,!hat of a gymnist's, born two decades ago. Tan, Jean, and strong, it dares a physician to find something wrong with it. Rice seldom drinks beer, but is a moderate smoker. He rides his Schwinn 10-speed to work every day, a distance of about four miles. "You can't believe all the people who live around here and work at Douglas just a couple of blocks away," he said. "Every morning they get in their cars -and drive to work, traffic and all. Man, if they would walk they'd there quicker and happier". Other than the bicycling and riding, he doesn't make a concentrated effort to keep in shape - it just happens that way. If John's not. careful, some overly-ambitious scientist is going to stuff him in a bottle of formaldehyde. Rice's attitude about racing, himself, and life in general is that of the high-school cheerleader at the Big Game. At the recent Viewfinders' Grand Prix at Indian Dunes, he had beat the 125 Experts and came from behind to nip desert champ Whitey Martino in a race for fourth in the Open class. A bit later, the sponsoring club ran a race between themselves. Someone was going to have to flag, so there stood bare-footed John, Dr. Pepper in one hand, wagging the checkered in the other. You can find him on any Sunday (which sounds like a good title for a movie) between races either giving support to tuner E.C. Birt, talking to track officials about a bad spot in the course, or waving on a teammate. Or anything in a poslive vein, for that mattei. I called on John R. at his Lakewood, Calif., home one evening and found him in his garage, smoothing out the action of his big Maico's throttle grip. He wore a faded, early-vintage Cycle News T-shirt, a pleasing gesture on his part. His work area is neat and extremely well-organized with a huge collection of obscure bike parts lining the rafters. Soon Tam, John's charming wife, in vi ted everyone in for a meat-and-potatoes dinner, served on trays in front of the TV. John's oldest daugh ter had just been given a full-coverage helmet by Champion and she was letting everyone know about it. The warm family atsmospbere, usually reserved for saccarine TV programs, was typical of the many cycle-enthusiast families. Tam came in and offered me a beer. "Johnny doesn't like it and I do. It's not often that we have a special occasion so I can buy some," she admltted. Rice, when prompted, is a good storyteller. Tam asked him to tell about his first bike ride for my benefit. He happily obliged with a lengthy account, with full histrionic accompaniment. "Well, in 1955 we were going on a...1 was going on a camping trip to Yosemite with a bunch of friends - we were all Mormons back then - and one of my buddies rode a BSA. All the way to Fresno, he kept passing us and dropping back. Man he was having a ball! "We stopped for gas in Fresno and I went back and said, 'Hey, lerome ride this thing to Yosemite.' He said, 'Have you ever ridden one of these? ' I sez, 'Sure!' So they all piled in my car and left me standing there. I never been on a motorcycle in my life, and here I am trying to figure out how to start the thing.... "These gas-station guys were watching me, so I acted cool I figured it couldn't be that hard. I got it started and in gear, and went bupbupbup and killed it. I went through the drill again and finally was cruising down the middle of town. Wow, was I neat! Just cruising along the street and looking to see if anyone was watching me. "I found second gear and - hromm, not bad, then third and fourth. Out of sight. Now I'm really moving and, man, it feels bitchen. "I caugh t my partners and passed them, waving and yelling, then I turned around a couple of miles down the road