DMG,Mike Kidd

I don't go to church and i don't steal ideas...got it?

Word JPT.
If it had 2 wheels it was core.

kidd wrote a letter to p bush...now do you hate him? lol

I don't think dirt track racing in norcal will ever come close to what it was in the 70s-early 80s. For years I went to all the races in D-36. Watched Chris Carr and Doug Chandler battle each other from 60cc-Grand Nationals. It was cool when Rick Hocking and Randy Mammola would show up at Fremont Raceway to make a guest appearance.

Watching Alex and Kim Jorgenson at Lodi Cycle Bowl was a treat. I never did get a chance to see the King race there.

Our very own BMSOB used to race dirt track back in the day when the King was a kid.

andymoto "Didn't realize that I miss those Miles until this thread....and miss those that have left us.

RIP to 'em all."

Ditto

no way that original idea came from you......google?

I remember it well. Back in the day San Jose was the Mile. I still have the hat that says so. Great racing, draft passing down the back straight 3 & 4 wide on every lap. The fairgrounds was gradually surrounded by development & eventually they began to complain about the noise of the races. They finally had to mandate those ugly mufflers on the bikes & that was the beginning of the end for that venue. I remember standing down at the entrance of turn 1 during qualifying right on the rail with nothing but a haybale between you & the bikes, the handlebars no more than 2 feet away as they broke it off into the turn. No one drove it in deeper than Jay Springsteen. Springer would barely crack the throttle, pitch it in sideways & be back on the gas all the way around. Exciting stuff.

There was a time when you could run what you brung pretty much. The AMA let the old uncompetitive Harleys run with 750cc against the OHV 500cc Triumphs, BSAs & Nortons. The battles between the Brit bikes of Mann, Nixon, Romero, Rice & Aldana & the Harleys of Markel, Lawill & the rest were epic.



Alex Jorgenson on the Ron Wood Norton. Dave Aldana rode this one too.

Harley finally came out with the XR750 & it got more interesting but it left the 500cc bikes at a real disadvantage. I can remember Erv Kanemoto, who went on to fame as Freddie Spencer's RR mechanic for team Honda, bringing a 3 cylinder Kawasaki 2 stroke to Bay Meadows for Jim Felice to ride. What a sound. The only thing that would slow it down was a compression release he had rigged to all 3 cylinders! Robert's 4 cyl. 2 stroke Yamaha grew out of that formula before they banned it. When the AMA outlawed those kind of bikes to keep the Harleys in the hunt the sport went downhill & became a parade. The Hondas that Ricky Graham rode so well were ridiculously expensive & practically one offs. Without factory Honda support there were no parts & since the AMA didn't seem to care about promoting the sport the factory went away. When it became a 1 make series the uniqueness went away. Many great riders came out of flat track & now those guys race for peanuts in a forgotten series.

Great post BMSOB.

x2. I wish my dad was still alive because I know I've forgotten a lot of the stories he told me about racing with some of the guys you mentioned. He was just a weekend warrior but he had an old BSA that he built from the ground up (thanks to owning his own machine shop and no wife and kids) and there were more than a few factory mechanics that wanted a peek inside that engine. I remember being at the Devil's Bowl and and one of the Factory Harley mechanics offered to trade one of those 750s (practice bike) just to get his hands on that bike. Dad told him to hit the road.

He started racing in Kansas before rear breaks were legal and he remembers when those compression releases hit the track. He started me out racing flattrack and TT but once Mike Kidd put in a mx track, I converted. MX was definately a lot cheaper. I would love for flattrack to make a comeback but the AMA needs to quit pandering to those Harley boys for once in their life.

Oh......and that pic is pure poetry in motion!

It's hard to grow a sport when there isn't much of a base to draw from.

You can't just walk into a shop and buy a flattracker like you can an mx bike.
For the most part, kids want something they can do almost right away,. Many of the kids that ARE involved in it today are second and third generation. The AMA tried the DTX program, remember that? Not very successful. A few tracks do run knobby classes but in many areas with so many mx races going on, it's hard for a promoter to draw new people to the sport. As opposed to mx, there are even fewer places for riders to practice. Who wants to spend the money on something you can only ride occasionally?

I saw something on tv a few months ago about speedway, maybe in California, where it seemed like a lot of people were involved in keeping things going. Younger riders had older riders to mentor them, and it seemed very family friendly. Dirt track needs something like that, but I'm afraid it would take too long.

That's exactly the reason I got into motocross. You wouldn't believe the small fortune we needed to put into an RM80 just to make it competitive. IMO Harley killed the sport along with the AMA, but now we have these 4 bangers along with supermoto so who knows?

I still want to feel what its like to back in to a corner at 100MPH side by side. That's gotta be a rush!

The beauty of dirt track was almost every town had a fairground track. The big draw, the miles, were held on existing horse track facilities. You didn't need a lot of acreage like you do MX. One of the reasons I got into MX was track time. 40 min. motos, woo hoo! When dirt track was big a place like Lodi had 300 riders turn out. 6-8 laps of practice & if you didn't make it out of your heat you were done. It didn't cost all that much to make a Hodaka competitive in the 100 class. Different tires, total loss ignition, high compression head & an expansion chamber was all it took. I raced 100's, 250's & a 500 Triumph. There was a class for every size bike & that's how you got people into the sport. Granted, at the highest level, trackmaster frames & engine work cost a few $$ but nothing like the buy in for a new 450 MX bike. You could still build one today for the same $$ or less but the rules need to be changed. Let's hope Kidd can do something.

not jimmy felice....gary scott i think it was or maybe scott belsford. whoever it was he had a brother that raced too.

check out this site for a few kr pics

http://www.superbikeplanet.com/...obertsindy/index.htm

..or Don Castro. Memory not what it used to be.

Yeah baby.

Castro...can see the CA on the suit..
Mark Brelsford was #87......Gary Scott had the brother Hank....I think.

it was gary scott then...triple and hauling ass

The Bike That Wouldn't Die
[BThe original they-don't-pay-me enough-to-ride-that-thing[/b]-Kenny Roberts bike
by dean adams (1994)

Image by Mike Stuhler
It happens, oh, once or twice a year: the phone will ring at Kenny Roberts' house in Modesto and on the other end of the line will be a determined individual who through perseverance, good intentions or connections has obtained the King's private number.

"They'll say, 'Yeah, I have your old race bike.' Roberts explains, "It'll be an old dirt tracker or one of the many Yamaha roadracers. I'll ask them some specific questions, was the frame broken and re-welded many times by the swing arm pivot? Inevitably, after a few questions it becomes apparent that they don't have the bike I raced." Roberts and friends own most of the significant bikes he piloted. Save one.

So, it was with a callused cynicism that Roberts heard through the grapevine that someone out there had one of his old bikes. But not just any old bike. He claimed to have in his possession Kenny's famed Yamaha TZ750 dirt track machine, the bike that he won the Indy mile with in 1975, a bike that tried very hard to maim Roberts on several occasions. Ahhh, that bike.

For those readers without a degree in motorcycle racing history—or simply weren't born in '75—this is the encapsulated story: In 1975 Kenny Roberts was having a bear of a time trying to retain his number one plate because of a charge by a likable man by the name of Gary Scott and his potent factory Harley Davidson. In previous attempts at the championship, Roberts utilized the standard Yamaha four-stroke twin to run down the booming XR Harley. Run them down he did, winning multiple Grand National championships when the series contained both roadrace and dirt track events. However, that success was not carrying on into 1975, the tired design of the Yamaha (helped along by flowbench masters Jerry Branch and Tim Witham) began to show cords, and even The King in his early prime could not stop the advances of Scott and Harley. Bad luck followed Roberts as well that season, clutches that were once infallible roasted, chains snapped, wires loosened and fell off. It was obvious to all at Yamaha that it was time for a new machine.

Roberts, his personal craftsman Kel Carruthers and key personnel at Yamaha scoured the corners of their imagination to find something that would give them an edge. What they needed was horsepower, big power. Hence, a scheme was hatched: Roberts wanted horsepower let's give it to em'. Although none of them realized it at the time they would prepare a machine that would put the fear of God into the King and add an illustrious chapter to racing history.

Although there were grave reservations on many fronts when the details of the Kel Carruthers-built Yamaha became known, hesitance did not stop the principles from assembling one Doug Schwerma designed Champion dirt track frame, a leaned on Yamaha TZ700/750 engine (the very same one Roberts had won Laguna with previously that year) billowing one hundred plus horsepower on the dyno and one set of Goodyear dirt track tires. With these menacing ingredients they threw in the best fabrication skills of Kel Carruthers and flipped the puree switch on the blender. Interestingly, with the aforementioned parts in front of him, Carruthers assembled the machine in just five days.
Carruthers and company were not the first to see the potential of a Japanese multi-cylinder cradled in a dirt track frame.

(Although it is not generally known in present day, other riders had Yamaha TZ trackers before The King, including Rick Hocking, Steve Baker, Randy Cleek and the elder Skip Aksland, but these men were not Roberts neither were they assisted by Kel Carruthers so the results were marginal. Moreover, Erv Kanemoto built Kawasaki triple-powered machines for his riders: Gary Nixon, Don Castro and Scott Brelsford; Kanemoto Kawasakis were fairly successful, although not at the National level. The wound-tight Kawasaki, at least when compared with the brute force Yamaha, had a touch softer power curve and less horsepower. Too, it was time-consuming, Kanemoto recalls; the Kanemoto Racing triple shook so badly that Kanemoto made plenty of foot-trips to the track to find parts that had shaken off. He'd retrieve air filters and anything else not nailed on.)Oh, la-de-dah, isn't life grand at the front of the pack Jay? Yes, dear Corky, dreadful about our chum Roberts having such a bear of a time on that contraption ... say, what's that frightful noise?
The assumptions of this being a monster unleashed were confirmed once Carruthers stepped back from it in his shop. They realized that the Champion Yamaha was, in essence, over-kill, so much so that in the final races of the '75 season Carruthers affixed a kill-switch to the number three cylinder on the Yamaha. Roberts would push the switch on the entrance to corners, killing the spark to that cylinder in order to tame the wickedness of the machine.

In a late-night, pre-Indy phone call Carruthers asked Roberts how fast he wanted to go at Indy. "About one thirty should be enough," he estimated. Carruthers geared appropriately.

Roberts went to Indy without ever seeing the completed bike. Once he arrived the crew sat him on the seat and adjusted levers and the handlebars.

Before the bike took to the track many thought it too powerful and would not be able to obtain any traction. Roberts might have been one of these persons, but he won the first semi-final, putting his name on the grid sheet for the National and from there, the rest is history.

Harley teammates Jay Springsteen (then a just rookie) and Korky Keener initially led the twenty-five mile main event quite easily, playing grab-ass and spraying each other with dirt as the laps ran down to the black and white.

Oh, la-de-dah, isn't life grand at the front of the pack Jay? Yes, dear Corky, dreadful about our chum Roberts having such a bear of a time on that contraption ... say, what's that frightful noise?

Sensing a threat, Keener looked back—very late in the race—and saw Roberts doing his patented water through a screendoor drive through the pack. The shriek of the Roberts TZ750 struck a chord deep within Keener, he signaled Springsteen with a single index finger that Kenny, like death with a black robe and scythe, was coming for them.

Grab-ass time was officially over.

Current Team Roberts manager Chuck Aksland, then a lad of eleven, had begged his grandfather to bring him back east for this event as he knew it would be a scorcher. He was not disappointed, "I still remember seeing hay scattering in the air as Kenny came out of turn four. I still think it was among the best races I have ever seen, top three easy," he says today (1993)

Roberts used the high line to make his charge, essentially bouncing off the bales in making the corner transitions, shaping a crude rectangle out of the oval. With all that Carruthers horsepower he came for Springer and Keener; and on the last lap all three held throttles WFO down the straight, in a flash Roberts clawed by the Harley boys and onto the podium, his margin of victory about two feet at the line.

There are those that say this is the bike and the race that made Kenny Roberts an icon. From nearly a dead last start, Kenny had spun and slid his way to the win. On a bike some thought unridable.

To put this machine's horsepower into perspective for a younger enthusiast, piloting this it would not be unlike racing a modern big bore Suzuki fitted with nitrous-oxide injection—in six inches of water.

The Champion Yamaha 750 is and was considered the definitive unbridled motorcycle, so much so that Roberts, when he got off the bike after narrowly winning at Indy, spewed the immortal Roberts quote: "They don't pay me enough to ride that thing," he said.

Win yes, but live with it? For a season? No thanks. With the King in its saddle the Champion Yamaha never really tracked straight, spinning and hopping on the straights. It tried very hard to toss Roberts over the top and Roberts, truth be known, hated the bike with a passion he would only again have for Freddie Spencer. He raced it twice more after winning Indy, with less than spectacular results,


The AMA, with the help of level-headed Kel Carruthers, quicly moved to ban the bike and the formula that brought it into existence. The argument that if the machine was allowed to breed it would eventually kill someone won the sanctioning body over.

Back to Roberts, modern day, phone in hand. All obvious signs of suspicion on his part disappeared upon learning that the person who claimed to have his bike was none other than Stephen Wright.

In the realm of motorcycle restoration experts there are only a few true craftsmen, among them, Mike Pariti and Wright are the considered among the best, Wright's expertise in the area of board track racers from the early 1900s is unequaled. He is a celebrated author as well, writing both of the American Racer books, volumes that are considered the pinnacle historical record of motorcycle racing from its infancy. If that pedigree wasn't enough, Wright worked as the late racer and part-time actor Steve McQueen's personal motorcycle restorer for six years, assembling McQueen's vast collection of motorcycles to show quality. Therefore, when Wright says he's got a bike you used to race, you don't doubt him.

Even if the bike was put into the crusher. Yes, the crusher.

Once the AMA banned the bike from competition several persons wanted to get their hands on it for historical purposes, (including Carruthers whom as builder probably had more claim to ownership than anyone save Roberts).

From there the engine was removed from the chassis, the wheels sent back to the roadracing shop and the bike compressed to a neat little cube where it couldn't hurt anyone.
Or, so the story goes.
But Yamaha America would have nothing to do with it and sent the bike to Europe for a promotional campaign. It was seen in late 1976 at a dealer show and one brave soul actually rode it at an English Speedway event, but the machine failed to bite that man, former world champion Peter Collins, as he was not able to shift beyond second on a very slick track.

From there the engine was removed from the chassis, the wheels sent back to the roadracing shop and the bike compressed to a neat little cube where it couldn't hurt anyone. Or so the story goes. A little chicanery occurred in this period as the bike never really went to its intended execution. Perhaps another bike tagged as this one went in its place or someone mistakenly checked the bike off the roster, but the machine never went to its demise. For a long while it sat in the back of the Amsterdam race shop with other racebikes put out to pasture. With most of its cosmetics removed save the tank, it looked like just another R&D exercise gone horribly wrong. Which really it was. It sat in that condition for a number of years until former Yamaha manager Kenny Clark, looking through the cadavers of this graveyard, began to study this particular machine. Although it was faded by constant exposure to the elements and sun, the phrase, Prepared by Kel Carruthers, El Cajon in Seventies hippie script on the fuel tank, raised the hairs on the back of his neck.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to determine this was not a machine that belonged in a graveyard but in a museum. He packed the bike up and sent it back to the States where he intended to restore it himself. Upon leaving Yamaha, Clark sold the machine in its dilapidated condition to Wright.


Determined, he set out to make the machine right again. Much damage had been done though. The ground up restoration would be the relatively easy part of the process. The difficulties lay in finding the correct parts, considering Champion only made five kits before the AMA banned the machine and this machine, being a factory built and developed racer, was in some ways very different from the kitted bikes.

Wright spent a good deal of time searching through the attics and garages of racers of the era, trying to find correct decals and other bits. With time and the help of many individuals —such as former Roberts mechanic, Merrill Vanderslice—Wright collected the correct pieces and finished the machine just prior to 1994 and started work.

Flash to the 1994 USGP, behind the Marlboro Roberts garage. Wright brought the bike to Laguna Seca and showed it to Robeerts. Roberts was obviously surprised and somewhat shaken by seeing this old steed in the flesh. He kept repeating, "I can't believe it, just can't believe it." For Roberts, a man who has done and seen plenty, the sight of this old machine unnerved him. He laughed nervously and spoke in broken sentences as the memories, both good and bad, rushed back.


Roberts wanted to own the machine. Wright wasn't ready to part with the noble racing steed just yet, but when that day came, said he would sell it.

The man most responsible for the machine's existence, Kel Carruthers, wearing a blood red Cagiva uniform, walked over and took a long lookat the bike. He examined many of the pieces individually: the foot peg and brake arm where Roberts hadn't been able to pull the machine back from the edge and it smashed into a wall at San Jose, along with the resulting welds where Ken Maley put the pieces back together again. He looked at the TZ700/750 pipes and the unique mounting system he had built to enable the exhaust to tuck in tighter than the kit allowed; the places he relocated the engine later that season. He said to no-one and everyone, "It's the bike," and walked back to Doug Chandler's V585, yet another in a line of machines he would help create but would never own.

There was talk of Roberts doing a lap of honor on the machine at Laguna, someone mentioned that they thought Roberts might fit into Luca Cadalora's or Beattie's leathers.

However, after a few moments' consideration, most thought it a bad idea.

He escaped with his wits intact twenty years ago, let's not push the issue.

Nixon was a badass & one of my heros because he rode a Triumph & beat the Harleys.

http://www.advrider.com/forums/showthread.php?t=243717&page=5

check this page out....

Cool read Bobby.
Merrill Vanderslice wound up being employed by the AMA.

I ordered a couple T-Shirts from Nixon and ended up e-mailing back and forth with him a couple times. I told him that in '73 I was at Peoria and asked Roberts across that little pit fence who had won Laguna Seca the week before (pre internet days). Roberts said "Nixon, I broke a chain". Nixon e-mailed me right back "Chain or no chain I had him covered that day".

Just looking at that makes my chest rumble!

Anybody got a towel? I just made a small mess.

That's it! I need to find out what how to convert my 450.

That's Corky Keener, he could work the cushion all right.