Cycle News - Archive Issues - 1990's

broke the 29-rider class into three practice groups and then sent us out to get a feel for the race track. It had been just qver five months since the last time I threw a leg over a dirt tracker on a big track, the dust bowl that was the VDTRA Del Mar Mile (I had learned a lesson on that day, too; it was called survival), but after a few wobbly laps, I got the unfamiliar ATK up to what I thought was a reasonable rate of speed around the semi-banked and blue-grooved 3/B-mile sand track. After two more sessions I was even more confident that I' was "gettin' it on." Then Morehead called us in, got the students together and went over the curriculum for the day, a plan of action that was so surprising in its simplicity that I remember hearing it and thinking that we were in for an easy time. "Most of the guys that I see riding today, when they get to the corner they snap the throttle shut and jump on the brakes and then try to get the thing turned," Morehead said. "Then they get back on the gas. Today we're going to show you how to pick up the throttle as early as possible, so that you can roll the corner and keep your momentum up." Still recovering from an off-season neck injury, Morehead opted not to throw on the leathers himself in order to illustrate the technique, but he made up for it by recruiting one hell of a teaching assistant in the form of fellow veteran TeIry Poovey. Morehead had Poovey take several demonstration laps, the first few of which were used to show us the way that we were negotiating the corners. Then the Texan cranked on the throttle and showed us how it should be done. It was a real thing of beauty to watch Poovey rocket down the straightaways before he gracefully laid the bike into the corners and then blipped the throttle to get the chassis settled before starting his drive way, way, way before the midpoint of each curve. Lap after lap, Poovey used the exact same techniques at precisely the same points on the race track not so much to hammer the bike through the turns, but rather to smoothly guide it around the track. The difference was subtle, but noticeable. "No problem," I thought to myself. Yeah right. When my group went out, I began to apply the technique - or so I thought. After several laps, I was up to speed, but the narrow-grooved half mile had me spooked initially, and I found myself trying to rush everything to make time. That meant trouble when it came time to exit the comers as I was fighting the motorcycle under accelera tion. Morehead flagged me in and confirmed my re~. (Left) Morehead enlisted veteran Grand NatIonal campaigner Terry Poovey (18) to demonstrate proper technique to the students. The emphasis was on "rolling the comer" to keep your speed up. (Right) Morehead stood trackside and watched each student carefully, offering several tips when each rider came off the track. (Below) Freddie Spencer's High Performance Riding School Is located at the spartan Las Vegas Motor Speedway. At the ready are Spencer's "Pro" bikes, which are supersport-«luipped. . "You're jumping on the brakes way too hard and then not getting on the gas soon enough," Morehead said. "You're waiting until almost the middle of the turn before you start to roll on the throttle, and that's why you're fighting it coming off the turns. You have to roll it in further and ease the transition by blipping the throttle." "Where do you want me to pick it up?" I asked. ' Morehead then pointed to a hay bale on the infield. It was at least 40 feet closer in the curve than the one that I was using to start my acceleration. "But that's the one I'm using as a brake marker," I said in tone that implied Morehead was certifiably insane. "Not anymore." "No problem," I replied in a tone that implied I was certifiably insane. See, I have enough faith in my own ability insofar as that while I normally wouldn't have attempted what Morehead had just prescribed, I knew that if he said I could do it, then I could do it. At the start of the next session, I promptly checked to see where the ambulance was parked, and headed back out. The difference was like night and day. When I got to the turn where Morehead was standing, I damn near closed my eyes as I tapped the brakes and slid it in, making sure I rapped the gas a couple of times when I got to my hay bale (guess I had one eye open). But a funny thing happened. The rear of the motorcycle hunkered down a little, and I suddenly found myself steering with the throttle a little more than with the handlebars. Once I had gotten a proper feel for it, that was all it took, and as I got more aggressive I wound up shaving two more seconds off my lap time. The rest of the day was spent working the technique. Although I never got it down perfectly, it sure made for easier negotiation of the big track, and my confidence continued to build. We took a lunch break, at which time Morehead and veteran Grand National tuner Skip Eaken thoroughly discussed motorcycle preparation, admonishing students to make changes just to see how they would influence the handling of the bike. "But when you make a change, such as a ride-height adjustment, write it down, so that if it doesn't work, you can go back to your starting'point," Morehead said. "And you should start out by making only one change at a time." We then continued to practice in our various groups until 3 p.m., at which time we called it a day. There was never a doubt that we'd had enough track time, and I was glad to finally be able to get off the bike. But I came away from Morehead's school thoroughly satisfied with the progress that I'd made and grateful to Morehead for sharing the knowledge. If he ever does another one, I'd recommend it. In fact, I wish he'd consider a full-time school of his own when he finally decides to retire from the Grand National circuit. His wealth of knowledge could be just the thing to take an intermediate or advanced dirt tracker to a whole different level.

• Cover