H
angtown. When I was a young SoCal
pro, racing two or three times a week,
with dreams of becoming a factory mo-
tocross racer, just hearing the word gave me
goosebumps and conjured up images of Weinert,
Jones, Grossi, Rapp and Lackey in my head,
banging bars and taking no prisoners. It was a
magical place, less than 500 miles from where
I grew up in Riverside, California, but it seemed
like it was on another planet. I went to all of the
Carlsbad USGPs and Saddleback Trans-AMA
races, beginning in 1973, but maybe because I
raced those two tracks nearly every weekend,
they just didn't seem magical to me. There was
no mystique about them. Don't get me wrong,
I loved those events, especially because I was
such a nut for the Euros and the World Champi-
onship Grand Prix, but Hangtown was the place
that gave me butterflies.
Though I had won plenty of night races and the
occasional day race since turning pro in 1974, I
did not apply for an AMA Pro license until 1978.
Perhaps it had something to do with all those
times Marty Smith had lapped me during CMC
races at Saddleback and Carlsbad after I had
first turned pro, but I didn't feel worthy until then.
I had been racing for DG Performance as part of
their team for years and had watched my team-
mates Bob Hannah, Broc Glover and Mike Bell
come and go on their way to MX immortality. I'd
gotten smart, moved up to the 250 class and was
doing…well, better late than never.
Tim Buck, my good friend and long-time
wrench, was as excited as I was when my Hang-
BY STEVE BAUER
CN
III FRIENDLY FIRE
HANGTOWN: A TRUE CLASSIC
P146
