ing a nightmare. He could not believe
the way Hammer was racing, then realized with a shock he was racing the
identical way himself.
And by the first pit stop, realizing he
was in over his head, Nixon was waving
the white flag of surrender, conceding
victory to Hammer.
Then Hammer's pit crew gave
Hammer slow service and Nixon
regained first. With the finish nearing,
he seemed the winner.
But Hammer was gaining back an
unimaginable five seconds every lap,
and the outcome was in doubt until
Hammer did the inevitable. He crashed,
broke a shoulder, got back into the race
anyway, and finished eighth.
He and Nixon fought yet again that
year. In summer, Hammer came to
Loudon with his shoulder mended.
Again he blew off Nixon, this time in
the rain; again he fell behind; again he
couldn't control his own fire; arid again
he took himself ou t.
.
By season's end, Nixon was leading
the National standings with one dirt
track race to go in Oklahoma City. But
now he had his own injury, a broken
thumb. Knowing that Harley-Davidson
was going to fall on him with half a
dozen of its riders, Nixon set up a network of interlocking alliances with other
Triumph proponents, including
Hammer.
This epic race came to symbolize the
whole, odd, Nixon-Hammer relationship. Nixon ultimately gained the points
which made him AMA -National
Champion. Hammer, after grabbing an
enormous handful of Triumph throttle
on Oklahoma City's bone-slick surface,
sot thrown,. then was unconcious for
'three days with a severe concussion.
He awoke to dis.cover he was no
Jonger the same Dick Hammer. "All my
self-confid.,mce was gone: he complained.
Daytona, whenever he could locate a
ride for the 200 miles, still exerted a
strong pull. Competing in the 1968 edition he was painfully slow and well off
the pace until lapped by Phil Read.
Getting passed - and by a British carpetbagger at that - temporarily made
Hammer mad all over again and he
compulsively made a decisive repass.
All that was left for him at Daytona
were more crashes. In 1969, he crashed
at 140 mph when his Kawasaki seized
its motor and locked up the rear tire.
And in 1972, his final Daytona, Hammer
arrived limping, having lamed himself
by grounding off a toe in a California
fall two weeks prior. His mount was a
dog which broke down early.
Hammer is, happily, still with us.
Some years ago, he noted that, in the
unfi1
