Cycle News - Archive Issues - 1970's

REPL"CEMf:NT SEAT COVER MM. or ~llh pade "lIla1l)'. f~ ..adMIMlI 41111111111)' .Ad alltell4ld 1OIe'''' by .lIp.r 5tronll .)'1011 tlll'.. 1IIIIy lutalled i...bolll 15 ..lllllle, lty ••hll a I ... draw cord. I"'elty elimi.allalt lite .141 01 lIMtal proal'. 51_ 10 nt _411 IaCNMla 01 1IICN00cycl" are IIClW ."aUaIlIe 1a Wack C'<"l ~ Il.i .0 OIIly. E Il.i > o Z Deaiped 10 allow th. ri_ to be eemfOl1aaa, .'dle lie 141 "illl 1I.po'I.... 'Mala I. 40... by . .lac rerlor..... '4111&" ; llyd41 .I~ a fo_ ,lIbfMr backlq alHI II• • •ttll IVoIII .y1oll fallric. A. "lMl"uat fO!' every lDOIort)'CUat. ""aU· aetle I• •alal. al. . 0' 30 1O 44. 149 riden hil#l in Nevada desert use WSRA's straddle·the-lead weenie start. isn't pleased since entries are low and dust is plentiful. What's more, the guy making a final sweep of the course before the 10 o'clock start was long overdue. Since everyone got a free hour of sleep as the nation moved from Daylight Savings Time to Daylight Wasting Time, we were anxious to gas it. Some competitors snarled at Harrison because of the delay but most found it plenty enjoyable to kick back in the splendorous high desert of Nevada, enjoy the sterling weather, and scan the starting line for old buddies. At 11, we were racing with 148 riders wobbling blindly through dust, craning our necks for the smokebomb. The 149th was Carl Cranke, blistering across the landscape. Left tum at the smokebomb, then over a battering windblown dune featuring the worst aspects of whoop-de-doos and puckerbushes. Seeking refuge on a smoother trail far to the side, I found myself passing riders by the score. "Serves them right for not seeking Better Paths instead of following the crowd," I philosophized. Then I endoed in a gulch. After spanking the dust off the seat of my britches, I got the 01' rhythm back and began working one of the finer powerline roads in the world, several miles of decomposed granite that twisted and turned over a range of mountains. Guys on Bultacos. Hondas, Pen tons and such were havi' 6 a field day skidding around corners. Non-sliding bikes like Huskys and my YZ had to square off or use the side of the mountain for a berm, which was also lots of chuckles. Either way, motorcycles are right fun play toys. 1 was able to pass others with regularity on the straights simply because that Y Z is about the strongest running 250 you can buy. On the other side of the mountain, I could see one reason why the WSRA is such a successful club: across the valley, every rise had a large day-glo card on a stake, each visible for miles. Like-colored ribbon marked the trail itself and danger spots were marked with yellow ribbon and arrows pointing towards Hell. Getting across the floor of the virgin valley was either a matter of playing follow-more-Ieaders on· tbe trail Cranke had cut, or crashing and weaving through thick sagebrush with both legs constantly getting knocked off the pegs, the way Cranke had to. While trying the latter, some brush unsnapped one of those dumb snap connectors on the YZ, the very one I told myself to tape up before the race. Only it took me ten minutes to find the problem after checking for gas, gas flow, kill button short, loose coil, elc., etc. Then, a mile from the halfway check, I ran out of gas. Not because of the small YZ tank, but because the fuel line I so sloppily reinstalled came off and that extremely efficient Yamaha petcock emptied the tank before the float bowl could. After a few minutes of wondering now where. might I find gasoline here in the desert? (This sort of thing had never happened to me before, and the experience is a tad strange.), a lovely rider named Lynn came by and gave me enough premix to get to my gas can up the trail. I thank you once more, LYnn, and may your Alpina's fork springs never collapse again. Racing was now a fruitless idea so I cow trailed, knowing if I could finish half the race I wouldn't be foolish enough to try the second loop. There were a few miles of my favorite type of desert terrain: rolling hills you ride like a roller coaster, then a 136 MPH fireroad, a 135 MPH sandwash, over a side, then gaw k at the sigh t 0 f 15 miles of perfectly flat desert floor with a single trail, every bit as straight as Interstate 5, dissecting it. It was along this trail, at pleasant speed in fifth gear and not a care in the world, that 1 suddenly was thrown over the handlebars without the slightest provocation. After dusting off the seat of my britches once more, 1 examined the Yamaha and found one each seized or bent Thermal-Flow shock absorber, and one each bent swingarrn. My new rigid frame turned an easy 10 miles into a brutal wrestling match to keep the seat from belting my body. The worst obstacle of the course, a rocky uphill that mostly looked frightening, was an ordeal with a solid rear suspension. Ever try riding a bicycle upstairs? 1 came across Maico Monty sitting at the side of a trail taking a breather. He had recently installed some new Konis but something went haywire and both bottom mounts broke. Lots of electrical tape barely promised to hold them in place. He lent me a wrench and I unhooked the bad shock and bottomed my way to the pits; wonk·wonk-wonk. The final few miles included / this bitch in '-groovy.far-out-swell narrow wash with high, smooth rock banks. Carl Cranke came up, finishing his second loop while I was struggling to .make one. How appropriate. Carl went by seven feet above my head, almost horizontal, like a motodrome daredevil. Big smile on his face, the punk. Ten minutes after Carl won, Dwight Snodgrass, an Open Amateur, finished. I heard Open Expert Lonny Murphy was second until a couple of miles from the finish when he ran out of gas! Murphy rounded some up quickly for third overall. Bill Groom was as cherry as I was grumpy. He was fifth overall, his best desert finish ever. "I only crashed about ten times," said Lump. Sherry Irwin won the MCP-designated Powder Puff class, but second-place Kim Slayton put in a dazzling ride. Kim 16, said she broke a throttle cable as the race started and was 20 minutes late out <>f the pits. She finished with Ms_ Irwin in sight, and they both were well into the male ranks although the PPers were flagged off later than the rest of us. The WSRA, hosts of the Virginia City Grand Prix, and event of fast-g"!ning fame Up North, has streamlmed many of the haggles of desert racing. For example, as riders finished, their cards were removed and stapled to a big board in a column according to class. Anyone could tell at a glance who finished where and if he made all the checks. Old Timers were scored after one loop so they could relax on the second if they cared to ride it at all. Thanks to the scoring system, trophy presentation was held within an hour of the finish, but this wasn't soon enough for some. Wind and dust had become a problem in the pits. Compared to SoCal courses, the 1 evada one was refreshing because it was almost all virgin. If the course had featured a couple of more obstacles like the one rocky uphill, it would have been perfect. Instead, it was merely outstanding. Dale Sou them had driven Carl's and my bikes out of his van. It was the first time he'd,.race in a long time. He was' sacked after finishing third in his class, and became very gloomy when he heard there probably weren't enough finishers in his class to merit him a trophy. "Poor Dale," said Carlon the way back home. "He tried hard and he did good." Then there was this homing tooting and Dale's van sped by Carl's. Dale waved this piece of brass out the window and he, wife Pat, and two daughters all display this giant proud pie.eating grin. • Results: Overall: 1. Carl Crank (Pen) 250. Open Ex: 1. Lonnie Murphy (HuS). 2. George Carter (Yam). Open. Am: 1. DWight Snodgrass (HuS). 2. Jack Coulombe (Hus). 3. Bill "Lump" Groom (Hus). Open Nov: 1. Phillip Smith (HuS) . 2. Maynard rdleman (Hus). 3. Steven Shaw (HuS). 250 Am: 1. Dave Carlton (CZ). 2. John Hilts (Hus). 3. Steve MarCh. 240 Nov: 1. Ed Montgomery (Hus). 2. Harry Wilson (Hus). 3. Dennis Brownell (Husl. 125 Am/Ex: 1. Bryon Frenyea (Pen). 2. Ronald Keeping. 125 Nov: 1. Richard Clinton (Hon). 2. Fred Fitzgerald (Hus). 3. Dale Southern (DKW). Old Timers: 1. Glen Clinton (vam). 2. Jack Lewis (Bul) .. Old Timers Nov: 1. Ken Brown (Hon). 2. Date Murphy (Hus) .• . PowfHh Puff: 1. Sherry Irwin (Bul). 2. 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