Cycle News - Archive Issues - 1970's

• Billy Uhl wins _ bad, Bad Rock: bad, iU garbaged my body. " I By Ron Schneide rs WESTON, ORE.,JUNE 20·21 Approximately 150 riders gathered in this n early unreachable t own for the last and nearly irrelevant AMA ISDT qualifying trial, The Bad Rock. Weston, Oregon, is about as remote as is possible in 1974 America. To gel there by road, one leaves Portland and follows the massive Columbia river 200 miles in a straight line. The closest city to Weston is Pendleton, home of the world famous rodeo, but instead of cowboys in Pendleton, there are pea-pickers, less colorful but much more important to the Oregon economy. In the final 23 miles between Pendleton and Weston are the gently rolling but deceitful hills stretching to the horizon and covered with, naturally, pea fields. Where, one wonders, in this smooth green land, can the P.N.T.A. possibly hold a 200-mile trial? Approaching Weston there is a hint of the answer. A mile from the town there is nothing to be seen but green rolling hills. Then, in a fold as neat as a napkin crease, is a house, then another. .an d suddenly you're in the middle of the town of Weston, which is without doubt Be n Bo wer wo rks o n his b ik e while a spectator tries to shield his exposed carburetor from more water. T he girl in overalls beh ind hi m is wife . Dia nn e . 8 the friendliest town a motorcyclist ever entered. Weston loves the Bad Rock Trial. Their citizens put up riders and pit crews in their homes, their stores and (most important in Oregon) their gas stations remained open all weekend. The mayor gave a friendly talk and the police were helpful and nonaggressive. But friendly people and green rolling hills do not a trial make. Hidden in folds of the land, just like the town, are miles and miles of rocky stream beds and those rolling hills, where they have not been converted to pea fields, art: rocky, slidy, loose and treacherous. South of Weston, on the other side of a six-mile grade culminating in Deadman's Pass, there is the Umatilla National Forest with many miles of tree-and brush-lined trails to counterpoint the bald grassy hills on the north. In past years the Bad Rock has been the "easy" trial. requiring only the ability to follow sporadic, whimsically placed arrows for 400 miles. This year the organizers (which means essentially Leon Wilbanks, a Hodaka honcho from nearby Athena) were determined that the Bad Rock would not be the easy one. It wasn't. By 10 o'clock Saturday morning. mild-mannered AI Eames was making mild-mannered statements, like "Tm really surprised. The terrain on the special test hasn't held up." Translated, this meant that about 75 of the 150 riders had ended their rides in deep m ud and water in the first three hours. Three times t he riders returned to the check at Meacham on the edge of the Umatilla and each time there were fewer Of them. But paradoxically the better riders were havin g little troub le, apart from having to deal with discarded machinery on the trail. Was it still too easy? In the afternoon the remaining riders left the Umatilla forest and returned to Weston by way of the bald rocky hills and dry rock stream beds. Fatigue, long hours, and rocks finally did the job on most hardened riders. To cap it, a half mile of final very wet stream bed was used to bring the riders into Weston . It ended a scant 50 yards from the impound area. It was here that the most dramatic incident of the trial occurred. Ben Bower, probably the fastest American ISDT rider lacking a Penton surname, was coming into the final check already a minute "into his grace," meaning that he was close to losing his gold medal. But he only had to climb the bank out of the stream and ride 50 yards. Halfway up the bank his engine faltered and died. S tanding ankle deep in water, surrounded by a couple hundred spectators. including his wife Dia nne, Ben alternately worked on the engine and kicked it. Over a dozen times it started, roared fitfully and died, as Ben tried one thing after another for 24 lo ng minutes. About 70 riders finished the hard Saturday run. but I wonder how many of them . could have found the energy to kick that 400 Husky over about 200 times at the end. Yes, he did get it fixed and finished, and he had set fast time in the special tests on Saturday, but it means nothing if you're 24 minutes late. The very arduous ride finished the lesser riders, but it was the special tests that bothered the good riders. They were very long, rough. muddy and dangerous. Carl Cranke, who with Billy Uhl tied for second-third on Saturday, commented, "I thought I was in good shape, but by the end of the test my arms felt as big as footballs." Billy UhI put it more succinctly: "I garbaged my body." An appalling though l. Other bodies took more serious if less picturesque beatings. Bill Hoffer suffered a broken back, Mike Hannon broke his foot, Greg Ekins broke a wrist, Morris Norman put a tree branch through his upper arm. Cosby Chestnut too k nine stitches in his head. Altogether, on the evidence, it was a very dangerous run. Sunday's run was even worse than Saturday's, because it was longer and the section that was repeated was one of the more difficult ones. By Sunday, however, there were few nonexperts left, so the casualty rate was lower. Even the best, though, suffered mechanical problems. The newest style Penton comes with an alloy shift lever, supposedly to save weight. Jim Jenkins broke about four of them before his supp ly ra n out. Jim Hollander rode nine m iles on a flat and then fixed it the following morning in the impound area. Not too difficult unless you're riding a Rokon, which Jim was. By the time he's ridden a few miles on the rim, there wasn't any flange left, on the magnesium wheels. He had to hold the tire on with four ratliator hose clamps in order to inflate it . It took about 30 minutes to fix it, but on a Rokon that's good time. John Sitton, the newest member of the Fast Family, found a crescent wrench at the Meacham check, which was really lucky because it was just what he needed, an IS·inch, S·pound crescen t. Just lying in the grass. Jack Penton lost the back of his fender, right at the seat, but managed to save the taillight, the brightest shiny black taillight I've ever seen on a bike that had been through two days of muddy hell. But it didn't work. For most purposes, this trial didn't mean much. Almost all the teams and personnel for the Italian game have already been decided. But for a few riders it was very important. Maybe three of four positions are still open and there might be some team juggling. Mike McGowan was one who was in the "bump" position. Mike suffered an unkind fate at the hands of some evil spectators who planted a tricycle in the "good" path in a creek. Mike we nt around it and p romptly sunk up to his ears. It took him about nine m in utes to dry th ings out and restart. Mike wou ld not complain, but his girlfriend, wife, or whatever would and did, loud, lon g and bitterly. Half mad, half crying, through clenched teeth, she demanded that Leon Wilbanks "do something about it. You don't know how much this means to Mike," etc. Leon promised noncommittally to "think it over." Evidently he decided to make an adjustment because Mike was back on gold on Sunday. I don't blame him. 1 wouldn't want any chick who feels that strongly mad at me either. The Overall win went to Billy Uhl, who is doing wonders with his Can-Am 175. Following Billy were Carl Cranke and Jack Penton. The trade team award will most likely go to Penton East Uack and Tom Penton, Dane Leimbach] but could conceivably go to Penton West (Carl Cranke, Mark Adent, Don Stover) or Pen ton Southwest (Steve Hurd, Eric Jensen, and Bill Friant). At any rate, the winner will be a Penton team. Husky's two major efforts were clobbered by Ben Bower and Ken Maahs. Bultaco teams were almost totally demolished. Rokon was p ut out of compe titio n by .Iim Ho lla nd er and Dave Mungenasl. Dave, you might recall, broke his hip in the Shamrocks run a mere eigh t weeks ago. "It only hurts when I put my foot down," said stoic Dave. lie got a silver this weekend. The California Creeps, Don Stover, Ken Harvey, and Jeff Hammond, are the best bets for the club team trophy. In spite of a few problems. it seems evident to this writer that Bad Rock has a fine chance to establish itself as the "Berkshire of the West," which is about as bright a future as I care to predict for anything. •

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