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/125815
CD i ... M !!! M > :; .., ! z Ebony Sled The Man on the andCZ owners: JaaIM! we flO' " Milium earlnaretor by Marty Greg,?ry .i'for~! W ..J U > U valerian's. The original Mikuni carburetor conversion kit for Huskys and CZs. And the only one that really works! The kit that improves efficiency, torque characteristics and fuel consumption, Stops loading up, Eases startups, And gives more docibility, The kit that comes with a complete range of jets good from sea level to B,OOO~ The kit you can bolt on in less than an hour, The custom-designed kit that looks like it's "factory Installed:' Order a whole kit and kaboodle, or just the parts you need. (Including our very own manifold kits.) Call (213) 475-4541 today. Or mail the coupon. ----------------------------Sin: Woukt I ike to o~ the 'ollOWlng Kit K';l P,,,,, OeIcr'PIIOI'l - Type /SlH 1250CZ-32mm .. _._ ........•. 2250CZ -3.4",,", .•••... 5095 . 50.05 n ... 16450 Husky MJ 34mm •• 17125 PenIOfl - 32mm ••••• .61.95 81.95 8Huskv-3~to~32mm 65.95 15400 Hulky MJ - 34mm ••••..•...• •• 61.95 6 250 Husky - 34mm to replace 36mm 7 250 Husky 32mrn to replKe 36mm 65.95 ".95 .55.95 03.95 .66.95 . 65.gs . 85.95 . . S4.95 12400 HuskV 3Cmm to ~ J6mm 132SQ Hutky MJ - 32rM'l •••••.••• 14250 Husky MJ 34mm • • 6595 3 36O-4UO CZ - J4mm •••••••• • . 4 J6O.4fX) CZ 36mm.. . 52S0 HUSky - 32mm to repI.Ke 32mm • "'.,. DetctlQllon - T't'J)IlSlZt 9 360 Hu,,"v - 3.4mm to replx:e 36mm . 10 J60 Husk Of J2mm to repiace 36mm 1 t 400 Husky - 34mm to reoI«e 32mm • 554.95 •All pnces plus shlPptog and Nandl••,g Cahlofnta rt!$l~IS add 5" sales talC Please stUD Chaf'geiO COD 0 NAME _ BankAmerlCafd 0 MasterehafQeD AOORES$ _ My account number IS MAI~TO:' , CITY I U\\ ~ \tJ\)l TELEPHONE STATE ZIP _ _ ,use are~ code) Tl;:w~~~!~ev!:!!~~~!"· Los Angeles. Cahfomia90064 - Telephone: (213) 475-4541 Sales - Service - Accessones - Parts - Rivetts Champion leathers HUSOVARNA' JAWAICZ, SUZUKI' PENTON' MZ' MONTES-" • ZUNDAPP, MINI-TRAILS open monday through saturday START WITH A BASICALLY STOCK XL250 HONDA·••• ......-red by Whit\ie< Honda ADD 3 RIDERS & ENTER THE GREENHORN NAT'NL ENDURO RIDE 500 MILES AND, WIN. 1st Overall - Marv Munyon 56C 12th Overall' - Jay Tullis 56B 13th Overall-Tony Furtado 56A PLUS 1st TEAM 40" o~ ".~ 0 .d\ ~~ Ilt..~ ~'\ ~...... ~ ~~~ ..cP_·)~ _end_ e..~. ~o" ~ For _ _ HOnIMI end din .-to I WHII IER, CA'F. - ~VD. (213) M8-OO65 • '1 .: '., .,)". ... . . ~ ..:.~ ~ .."~ -;:~ " . ..~ .",,\~~",,-~- "~ --"'-8j~ .~'. lit..-!'~· ~ .;.~\., ,,~~ ~!l "Keerist!"...The parched lips of Corky Burgess mouthed the word as his bike was catapulted into the air by an unseen rock lurking just beneath the sand. Somehow he managed to land in an upright position and continue his painful. high-speed progress across the trackless waste tbat was supposed to be a course. The motorcycle was leaping, bucking and falling all at the same time as Corky used every fiber of his body and soul in an effort to traverse the . Mojave. He was a desert racer and, like tho usands of Q ther semi-sane inclividuals, was given to a most possessive desire to go faster across this God-forsaken section of ground than his fellows. And for once...he was winning! The markers were still in his path and he was really motoring! The bealthy roar of the engine was a symphony to Corky's ears as man and machine flew over the crest of a shale hillside and skidded to the bOllom amidst a fog of dust and churning debris. treaking across the flat, he chanced to glance back for hi pursuers and was enthralled by the fact that not a single challenger had appeared over the top of the last rise yet. Confidence oozing from every pore along with an ever-increasing. flow of adrenalin inspired Corky to bold the throttle against tbe full-on stop as he wailed across a rock-sft'ewn creek bottom that had long since donated its pitiful trickle of moisture to the arid desert atmosphere. "I've got it now," he thought as he jumped the machine over an eight-foot-wide gully and througb a treacberous sand wash. He had outdistanced the others and was riding brilliandy to stretch his lead. At the last check point, Corky was slapped on the shoulder and sent on his way with a. wishing of luck. Corky really didn't think that he would need the luck that much but be thanked the cbecker just the same. It was about three miles Out of the check point when he looked back and saw the dust. At first Corky refused to believe it but a second glance reaffirmed his (vorst fears ...another bike! It seemed [Q be closing fast and when turning again, the approaching macbine was a scant 200 yards behind. Corky's first reaction was pani . My God ...here he was going faster than he ever had before and a rider was catching him from the rear. Who iii the hell ... ? But before be bad time to plan anything or even think, the other bike was abreast: about 50 yards to his side. Corky stole a glance toward this intruder and caught a glimpse of a number plate denoting No. 138 on the flank of the motorcycle. As the two raced laterally through the pucker bushes, Corky looked over at his challenger several times and noticed that both bike and rider were clad in black, an unusual color scheme for the flamboyant and calculating desert racer as black tends to absorb the intense heat rather than reflect it. Yes there he was! The black knight...and he was pulling away from the shaken and sore Mr. Burgess. The man on the black steed was literally flying and it appeared to Corky that be only touched the ground every six feet or so. Gas beld clear on ...it seemed impossible that anyone could go any faster on these rock.. trewn trail _ The man on the ebony sled wu in front of Corky now ,,!,d the distance separating tbe two racers grew ever-greater as the raven colored duo of man and machine sailed a full thirty feet through the air at the crest of a dune. ~.,. "Man, that dude can ride!" thought Corky to himself as the apparation in black topped another rise and disappeared momentarily. "At least l will only be beaten by , uper Rider'," he mused as pani gave way to a justified admiration for his combatant. Corky was ricling smoothly now... and even faster than ever. He followed the. dust cloud of the black rider down into a steep arroyo from which he emerged to see the cloud tearing across the flat which marked the final high-speed section of the course. The last ten miles of tbe race went very quickly and Corky really got the gas on in an attempt to keep the plume of powder in sight...but it was of no avail. The faster man was soon out of view in the distance as Corky dipped into the final ravine. "I've got to meet this guy," was Corky's predominant thought as he winged along the last stretch toward the crowd of trucks and banners that announced the end of bis ordeal. Pulling up to the officials' table, he stepped off the bike and was immediately surrounded by a small, but very entbusiastic group of spectators. photographers and pit-people. "Wow! Way to go, Cork! exclaimed bis friend Jim as he offered tbe canvas water bag and an outstretched hand. Corky's eyes swept over his eubiallant companion in a scanning search of the finish line but every eye was on him. "Where is he?" the racer demanded, water pouring down the front of his dusty leathers from the bag. "Man, there ain't nobody here but you, Winne.r!" Jim yelled as hands from everywhere reached out to slap Corky's bone-weary shoulders. "I m<:an where is the cat that won?" Corky stated as he set down the water bag and looked around. "Wbat the hell do you mean, man? You won!" one of the onlookers laughed. "No... No .. .l mean number 138...you know... the guy on the black bike ..' "You were the first machine in here, son," said one of the scorers as be consulted a list of entries.....Ain't no number 138 on the sheet anyhow." .. o...now wait," Corky panted, "there was a fellow in black on a black bike that went truckin' past me like I was standing still, and I know he didn't (all because I clidn't pass him on the way in." "The sun must have got to you, Cork," Jim said. "I've been standing right here and you were the first man in." "Well, I know that I aw him and his number was 13 .. .'cause I saw that LOo ...and- he was going so damn fast... " Tbe official timekeeper, old Go-faster McAllister. interrupted in a solemn tone, "The only fella from these parts with 138 on his scooter was a crazy sonofabitch name of Emerson that raced against me back in the Fifties .. ,'cept· he ain't around any more," "How's that?" said Corky. .. eems we found him Slacked up in a rock canyon one day. I was running near the front and he passed me just a-goin' like gang busters," the old man continued, "I managed to stop at the top of this cliff that somehow got into the course and saw him there at the bottom. We all went to the funeral even though nobody really knew tbe dude." A rather puzzled Corky Burgess picked up his laurels of victory amidst a trange silence in the pits. "Say Jim, you don't suppose....• "Let's get your bike in the truck," said hiJ friend.