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/1545507
didn't even know about it, but when the opportunity presented itself, I ran with it. Like most adventures, this one started with a phone call from a marketing person at a radio station in Hawaii who was looking for ways to promote the race, so he decided to contact Cycle News in California. Lucky for me, our reception - ist transferred his call to me. He pitched the idea of me coming to the Island and racing it. That wasn't a hard sell, especially when he said the radio station would cover my expenses, like travel, accommodations and entry for the race. But what about a motorcycle? "No problem," he said, "I'll handle that. The radio station will take care of everything." Wow. I'd even be interviewed on the radio. All this was pretty damn exciting for a barely 20-year-old single guy who was up for anything, especially when motorcycles are involved. I said, "Book the tickets!" Now, I had to convince my editor, Dale Brown, to let me go. I guess I should have done that first. Luckily, he was a super-cool guy and completely understood the opportunity, so off I went. The Mauna Kea 200 was a two-day timekeeping-style (old school) enduro that started out - side the lobby of one of the main hotels in Hilo, the Big Island's cap- ital. (It was actually a fake start for show; the real start took place down the road.) The first day was spent mostly in the jungles, and the next riding up, around and over the enduro's namesake, the Mauna Kea volcano. My ride turned out to be a clapped-out Kawasaki KDX200 (the red one), but I didn't care; after all, it was a KDX200, it was a motorcycle, and I was in Hawaii. It was loaned to me by the local ganja farmer; I'll call him Cheech. His bike had some serious jungle time on it, but what quickly caught my attention and scared me a little bit was the massive, welded- on, cage-like exhaust-pipe header guard, which turned out to be common among hardcore Hawai - ian off-roaders, and which Cheech had rigged to the bike. I would soon find out why they did that. He had also welded steel- piping hand guards directly to the handlebars. I would soon find out why, too. The day before the enduro, I went riding with some of the locals for a bit of a shake-out and quickly found out I was in way over my head. I was a decent rider back in the day and quickly realized that the trails in Hawaii were es - sentially all black-diamond stuff, and my off-road skills and stamina were going to be put to the test big time. My visions of riding in paradise had suddenly switched to riding in hell. To make a long story short, I made it through the first day of endless miles of muddy single-track trails covered with wet roots, giant wet logs (ah, the pipe guard), and vines that would reach out and try to rip your legs off the footpegs, all the while engulfed in the deep rainforest, where the hot, stagnant air is replaced by 100 percent humidity. You also had to contend with rocky lava flows with steam still rising up through the ground. That day ended at the base of Mauna Kea. I was gassed. I leaned Cheech's bike up against a tree, and I lay down on the ground next to it and passed out. When I came to, I started to think about the next day. I was in no shape to ride another foot, let alone over the tallest volcano in the world. Luckily, fate, aka Cheech, intervened. CNII ARCHIVES P132 In 1986, on a Honda XR250R, the second year I rode the Mauna Kea 200, I had the honor of riding on the same minute as Malcolm Smith (pictured) and his good friend Gary Drean.