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/125835
• t WANTED • ... IIIlI e Motorcycle route salesman with existing routes in Colorado, Oklahoma, Kansas, Pennsylvania, New York and Virginia to represen t T orsten Hallman Racing. Contact: Chuck Ramage, Torsten Hallman Racing, 5345 Timken St., Suite L, laMesa, Ca. 92041 for complete details. All inquiries held in strict confidence: , STRONG D • • • oIo~c" Carrle_ x Jf o 1733 Hiawatha Dr. GIe<'dale. CA 91208 - car Frame ;:d. . (2131247-2850 Attaches to Front or Rear Frames of Any .• CAR • TRUCK • TR"ILER I I I . ..~ [·Z .... ON/OFF LOAD RAMP' JIM DAVIS MOTOCROSS EQUIPMENT CENTURION MOUTH ~UARD...... SHOULDER PADs...... SHIN AND KNEE GUARD...... DELUXE CHEST PROTECTOR.... CHILDREN'S SHOUL.OER PADS... CM1LDREH'S MOUTH GUARD..... CHIL.DREN'S SHIN AND KNEE.... YOUTH ELBOW GUARDS.... S.'5 16.60 19.25 16.25 1'.95 .." 12.85 7,95 .THE PERFECT CHRISTMAS GIFT. BILL JONES MOTOSPORT BOX NZ. NORTH HOLLYWOOD CALIF',91603 JIM fisllbAck's 1IMIIII"~001J' ~M @ (714) 822-2252 9008 Sierra A.ve., Fontana, Ca. Atlo Has Compl.te Lines Of Penton CZ-Indlan 610W.61hSt.(Box 579) Coron'.CA 91720 L(71417J7·7134 .... By John D. Ulrich ...-Ou._ ......... .....-- _exc:I....... LIfI!""""_ ...... v_.nti-foam. _Idatlon -nlSt. cIIa_1c:s. _ATF-. Av.i1.ble In 10 thtu 4050'£. Cappadu_ln CC·. for accurate fills. FllIs_ an back aI can. 16 The .black clouds infesting my conClousness thinned. Through the haze burned a plastic sun, a red hard hat held by a beaming face to shade my eyes. The underside of the brim wore a nametag. "Max Lusin ", I read aloud. "Hi John. How's it going?" the beaming face asked. Another voice came from the indefinite morass of vision beyond the red sun. "Do you remember what happened? Do you know where you are? Do you know what day this is? Do you know your name?" The demands came, over, and over, and over again, from a fog hidden persecutor. "All I know is a red hat..." It hurt to talk. It hurt to think. I wished they would just go away and leave me alone. The beaming face looked like David Dyleson, the father of a boyhood friend. David Dyleson ... Boy Scouts ... campfires ... the darkness gradually conquered the muddied awareness. I always wanted to race motocross. I had seen many bodies twisted and tom by the forces dared .by moto man and unleashed by fate at tracks allover Southern California, watched crowds swarm like flies to see the gore of countless crashes. Still, I wan ted to be a motocross ace. Why not? My friends rode motocross, doing battle on the twisty tracks weekend after weekend, enduring with barely a scratch showing on their tough young hides afte~ years of hazardous amusement. One, Virgil Caine, had even been knocked unconcious and convulsed after a night MX endo at Indian Dunes. Bu t the sigh t of Virgil's smiling face as he blasted his booming BSA through many motDi since pushed that incident far into the deep<:st recesses of memory. Anyway, don't writers have to have experiences to wri te? I had to do exciting stuff like race motocross to get the feel I needed to become a dynamite writer. It was easy to rationaliZe that way. I had no big aspirations concerning the outcome of my first competitive venture. I'd just clean up the "First-Time" class, take home my trophy, and read my name in the paper next week. It would be great. Thus it came to pass that I was on the line for my first moto, racing in the 100 First.Time/Beginner combined. I was outfitted in all the proper gear, so much so that I disgusted one of my friends with my appropriateness of garb. Chicken leathers, jersey, kidney belt, Bell Star, goggles, Yamaha MX boots... the works. Next to me was a young boy of about 13, riding what he said was his fifteenth race on his '73 Yamaha 100. The mechanical starting gate released, hesitated, and dropp<:d. We locked handlebars as we slithered off the concrete starting pad. Being stronger, I could hold my bars straight, and as a result his twisted, knocking him to the ground. I glanced over my shoulder to see if he was OK, then blasted down the straight.