Cycle News - Archive Issues - 2000's

ARGHIVES TheWorld's FastestVincent f you've seen The World's Fostest lndion, starring Anthony Hopkins, you already know what a great movie it is. The inspiring story of New Zealander Buft Munro, who fulfllled a lifelon8 wish of cominS to America to run his beloved lndian on the Bonneville Salt Flats, is one of the best motorcycle movies ever made. (Read Henny Ray Abrams' review in issue 45, November 13, 2005) lf you haraen't seen the movie, make a point of going, or better yet, buy the DVD when it comes out. One of the main characters in the movie is Marty Dickerson, the American speed ace famous for setting speed records aboard Vincents during the 1950s. Dickerson not only helped Munro when the Kiwi came to the United States, four decades later he played an integral part in helping with the movie by supplyinS Anthony Hopkins with audiotaped interviews of Munro that Dickerson recorded in the 1960s. "l saw Anthony Hopkins during the filminS at Bonneville and asked him if he'd listened to the tapes," Dickerson said. "He said he had and thanked me, telling me it helped him leam a lot about Burt. lthink he really captured Bun's essence in the movie, so lwas happy that I contributed in some way." Dickerson said that he was oriSinally supposed to have a small walk-on part in the movie, but a windstorm destroyed the set on the day he was to be filmed and he didn't want to wait around three days while it was rebuilt. When asked what he thought about actor Walton Goggins' portrayal of him, Dickerson laughed and said: "He did a really good iob, and they even made him look like me. The only thing was, he was a lot taller and skin- ner than I am, and the actor who played Rollie Free was about a foot taller than Rollie aod had hair, but other than that, I thought they did a great job." Dickerson's own story is the stufl of Hollywood movies as well. He was raised on a family ranch in lnglewood, California - on land that is now Los Angeles lnternational Airport. He got interested in motorcycles while in high school and bought a basket-case 1929 Harley-Davidson JD from a school buddy for 65 bucks, primarily because it had Sood tires - a hot commodity during the he(ht of World War ll. After high school, Dickerson worked in an airplane factory and worked on the experimental Nonhrop B-35 fllrE wing, ln the late 1940s, Dickerson became a rtreet racer around Los Angeles, riding a Triumph Tiger 100. He had one of the fastest Triumphs around, proudly recall- ing reaching a blazing 98 mph on his modi- fied rig on the Rosamond drl lakebed north of L.A. Rumors began flying around Sor.rthern California in 1948 that a rare British bike called a Vincent was supposedly the fastest production machine on two wheels. Lured by the promise of moving up the street- racing pecking order, Dickerson found a dealer in Burbank that had the big British V-Twin and, after weeks of wrangling, he was able to trade in his Tiger as a down payment for the Vincent HRD Rapide The Vincent was everything Dickerson had hoped it would be and then some. "l could hardly ride the thing home, it had so much power," he recalled. "They had a light switch ofa clutch, and this was before the days of lnterstates in L,A., so I rode from Burbank to Hawthorne laying big black rub- ber patches across intersections at every light until I final- ly got the hang of it.'' Now armed with the highly potent Vincent, Dickerson became a street-mcing IeSend around L.A., besting all comeri on their Triumphs, lndians and Harleys by com- fortable margins. The only problem with the Vincent was that it was extremely expensive, and Dickerson began to have trouble keeping up with the steep monthly install- ments. He thought he was going to have to give up the bike, but the dealer, who also happened to be the West Coast distributor of Vincent, came up with the idea of making Dickerson a sales rep and having him tour the West on the bike stuffed with brochures trying to open up new dealerships. His rep job instead turned into a full-on touring drag-racing show. Every town he went to, he would end up with lo(al motorcycliss on a deso- late road, generally at night, with a crowd of peo- ple watching Dickerson dust off other riders with his exotic Vncent. "One time while I was in Texas, a bunch of people gathered at a restaurant to check out my bike,'' Dickerson said. ''They told me to wait around, and a few of them went and got this guy who had the fastest Chevy hot rod in town. We went out and raced, and the driver was so mad when I beat him that he stayed on the gas after the finish, swerved in front of me and clipped my front end, trying to put me on the ground." By the early 1950s, Dickerson opened his own Vincent dealership in the south central Los Angeles com- munity of Hawthorne. After helpin8 Rollie Free durinS some of his top-speed attempts, Dickerson caught the bug, and his Mncent ceased being a streetbike and began is long career as a speed-trial machine. ln l95l , Dickerson set an AMA Class C record of 129 mph on the Vincent at Bonneville. lt was a hotly contest- ed class, however, and the next year Sam Parriott bet- tered Dickercon's mark on an Ariel Square Four. That got the dander up on none other than Vincent IYotorcycle's owneq Philip Vincent. "Suddenly I began getting special shipments from England with trick cams and exhaust pipes for the bike," Dickerson recalled. With the factory racing parts, Dickerson headed back to the Salt Flats in '53, confident that he would regain the record- Elesides help from the factory, Dickerson had a few little trick of his own. "l studied the rr.rle book, and it said the bike had to have a seat, but ir didn't say the stock seat. So I took the standard seat off and iust put a little pad on the rear fender. I also turned the handlebars upside down, whkh put me in a streamlined riding position." The officials scratched their heads and gave him a lit- tle grief over his modifications, but they grudgingly agreed that he'd followed the rule book. Dickercon made history that day in Bonneville, oblit- eratinS the Class C record with a two-way average of 147 mph. He cracked the elusive l50.mph mark in one direction while establishinS the new mark- Vncent was thrilled. The company advertised Dickercon's monu- mental achievement in magazine ads and on sales brochures, and he became a celebriq/ in motorg/cling circles. The 147-mph mark was so fast that it took 20 years before a Yoshimura Kawasaki Z I broke the record, going 155 mph in 1973. "l brought the old Vincent back in '75 to try and beat the Kawasaki record," Dickerson said. "But like people, machines get old, and the castings get brittle and things like that. We had ignition problems, and I wasn't able to get the record back." ln 1995, when Dickerson was 70 years old, he brought out the trusty old Vincent for one final encore and set a vintage land-speed mark. Dickerson will turn 80 this year. He lives on a hilltop in Creston, California, and still loves to ride. Always a sucker for sweet-running V-twins, the Hall of Famer calls the Ducati Honster his ride of choice these days, "l got a group of buddies, and we ride nearly wery weekend," Dickerson says. "The weather's been so bad this spring, though, that I haven't gotten out much. lt was the coldest March here since 1923." Since Ihe Woldt Fostest lndion was released in the United Staes early this year, Dickerson s phone has been ringing a lot more often. He re

• Cover