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Mind you, hundreds of spectators are walking past me looking at me sitting up with a 450 pinning one of my legs down and I couldnt pull my leg out with how thick the mud was. Aftet a few minutes of people driving around me and walking past me a guy lifted it off me. Very bizarre
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Cracked that fender right the hell off, and then stood up and took a bow.
I must say that the move where I jump off the bike and run along side of it instead of high-siding after the guy in front of me cut in sharper than I expected was absolute genius....the fact that I take out another rider when I was doing my "hop-skip-jump" remount....priceless.
But that last manuver where I land a little front wheel too high with my butt planted at the back of the bike and get almost catapulted out of the little rodeo arena in Greely, Colorado was pure goon through and through.
Once at the old track in Newcastle PA, had to be maybe 86 or 87, I was on a 60. I was leading and on the last lap I did a no-footer on the last table top, crashed in the next corner. I honestly don't remember if I was able to get up for the win or not but I never heard the end of it from my dad and I never showboated again.
Then my buddy walks up and takes the exhaust wash plug out and says "there ya go". Right in front of wife, kids, other friends. Felt like such an ass.
Pit Row
I raced that first full year with my Dist-36 issued competition # 69L and had no idea why everyone thought i had the baddest race #?? I mean I dug how my Rat looked racy and all??
At the last race of that 8 race rookie season and at the break (between the trophy dash and main event) the promoting club always held a wheelie contest.
To date I had won them all on my wheelie happy Super Rat...but at this final race the club boldly had my name engraved on the trophy jinxing this rookie Popa-wheelie rider into a spectacular loop out to 720 cartwheel down the first straight
Race morning Lance jumped in his first and vogued his posterior proudly with his newly dubbed nickname "POPEYE" stated and stitched.
Big D muscled his way into his tights next with "BRUTUS" burly labeled butt side.
I was not amused when our pitside laughed their ass' off after I pushed my getaway sticks into my own with a fresh "WHIMPY" wrapped on my own backside.
insult to injury later I would discover several 8mm films documenting the action of said shenanigans...still to endure.
This helmet nearly took my head off on those paved road sections....
It was a cold introduction to the game. I always had a begginer complex at that track when I would go back years later to practice. It used to be called Trulson's, then burntridge. Now it's just logged land I've heard. Anyways here's the shameless photo of my first start.
As we had only ridden around the house we didn't have any gear. Well there was this guy selling some blue fox 180 pants in my size. Dad paid the man and right there and then i ditched my shorts and pulled on my new pants. I spent the whole afternoon strutting around in my new pants with my sneakers and t shirt thinking I was top shit.
There is a photo at dad's place somewhere and I'm glad it's hidden in one of mums many photo albums.
The crowd loved it.
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