What's your fondest family moto-memory?

Mine was racing a local 1hr endurance (GNCC style) race. Finished 2nd in C class and passed 6 B class guys.

Halfway through the race, a B class guy was down in this muddy section of the track. Broc Hepler was there spectating and he happened to be the guy doing what he could to flag riders away from the downed rider.

In an attempt to show Broc my true pro potential, I grabbed a handful of throttle, knifed the front end, and went down in the next corner. He laughed. I rode away in complete embarrassment.

Needless to say, I never went pro. But I did finish 2nd in the only race I ran that year and beat a few of my buddies in B class who had a 20 second head start. My whole family came out and I was surprised that a few friends came out to support and be my "pit crew". That day was the most fun I have had on a bike, period.

Donovan759 wrote:

Mine was racing a local 1hr endurance (GNCC style) race. Finished 2nd in C class and passed 6 B class guys.

Halfway through the race, a B class guy was down in this muddy section of the track. Broc Hepler was there spectating and he happened to be the guy doing what he could to flag riders away from the downed rider.

In an attempt to show Broc my true pro potential, I grabbed a handful of throttle, knifed the front end, and went down in the next corner. He laughed. I rode away in complete embarrassment.

Needless to say, I never went pro. But I did finish 2nd in the only race I ran that year and beat a few of my buddies in B class who had a 20 second head start. My whole family came out and I was surprised that a few friends came out to support and be my "pit crew". That day was the most fun I have had on a bike, period.

Love it. Thanks for sharing. Looking forward to some more contributions.

All the years from 1980-88 were good, we traveled to all the races in a conversion van with the whole family for me and my brother to race, then fast forward to 2004 when my brother and I decided to get back into it, mom and dad went and bought a motorhome and came to a bunch of races when we had our familys with and set up the "compound" with us....comment that will stick with me forever is that dad was stoked that he just had to show up and pay for him and mom, and we were finally footing the bill for racing, and "shit had really changed, used to be charcoal grills and 2 strokes"


good stuff, best times of my life for sure

Mine has to be in the summer of 2010 when I won my first ever race in the adult C class.
I was 17, nearly 18 and it was my first year in adults. I'd just bought (with help from my dad) a 2008 RM250.

I started riding at 11 and racing at 12. I was horrendously slow all through 85's, I think I got lapped in every race I entered. I always loved riding and never felt pushed, I wanted to race. My dad wasn't a typical mini dad, never got pissy or aggressive. He was very patient and persevered with me. I moved up to the youth class on an RM125 and although I improved, I still spent 2 years in the youth class towards the back of the pack, outside the top 20.

Something just seemed to click in 2010, I started getting quicker and got the 250, next minute I was right up the front. I remember the day really well, I fought so hard to win that race, making the pass for the lead on the last lap. I crossed the line and was in total disbelief. To see the chequered flag waving for me was surreal.

I pulled off the track and my dad was there balling his eyes out. Gave him a big hug, it was awesome.

RussB wrote:

Mine has to be in the summer of 2010 when I won my first ever race in the adult C class.
I was 17, nearly 18 and it was my first year in adults. I'd just bought (with help from my dad) a 2008 RM250.

I started riding at 11 and racing at 12. I was horrendously slow all through 85's, I think I got lapped in every race I entered. I always loved riding and never felt pushed, I wanted to race. My dad wasn't a typical mini dad, never got pissy or aggressive. He was very patient and persevered with me. I moved up to the youth class on an RM125 and although I improved, I still spent 2 years in the youth class towards the back of the pack, outside the top 20.

Something just seemed to click in 2010, I started getting quicker and got the 250, next minute I was right up the front. I remember the day really well, I fought so hard to win that race, making the pass for the lead on the last lap. I crossed the line and was in total disbelief. To see the chequered flag waving for me was surreal.

I pulled off the track and my dad was there balling his eyes out. Gave him a big hug, it was awesome.

that is very cool

Mine has to be the overall 2002 year of racing.

It was the first year my dad took my little brother and I racing. I helped my dad with the bikes and everything as much as I could, but I was only 9 at the time so he was learning the whole racing thing on his own. We showed up to a few races with a ktm 65 and pw50 stuffed in the back of a suburban with the seats down. Electrical tape numbers on the bikes, bucket for a stand etc and we had an absolute ball. We didn't care we were just so excited to finally be at a race. Pretty sure we missed the gate drop for my first moto, but it didn't matter, I got last or near last every race that year. My dad never cared about results back then it was always more about the boys being together with him. Mom and my sisters came to a few races but she was usually a nervous wreck.

Slowly but surely we got the moto bug and figured stuff out, dad got a trailer, then got a truck to pull the trailer, then a bigger truck etc. But some of my favorite times were us just showing up to race having no clue what we were in for and having the best time ever. I remember that year racing amateur day at Steel City and being next to Mike and Jeff Alessi on their CR80's in staging and being so starstruck. I had seen them in magazines and it was very surreal that they were just there racing too.

On top of getting into racing in 2002 I also got to see Ricky's first perfect season and James's first 125 championship at Steel City that year. Good times

1978 World Mini Grand Prix at Escape Country. We were kids and it was great.

That first time I found myself unable to run the kids down and pass them.

My parents were never together growing up and I had step parents on both sides. Racing was the one thing that allowed everybody to be around each other all day long and have a good time. My mom had to wake me up on the track once and my dad took care of pushing my bike back (a long ways). Not the best memory but that one moment of everyone working together makes you realize all of the good moments that everyone came together in my corner. Those are the days that will never be forgotten.

Mine was my first race win in August 2015. Cold, misty day here in Eastern Canada and it seemed like it would be a mud race (which I hate) but it turned out to be much better conditions. So some close family of mine was home for the summer and where my local track is 4 hours away they didn't think they could make it to the race. So my dad and I get ready as usual as he was like my mechanic, getting my bike ready to go. I was a little bummed out thinking my family wouldn't show, but as I sat on the starting line waiting for practice I caught a glimpse of my entire family at the top of the hill watching. That got me pretty excited so I ripped in practice. First moto comes, my gate didn't drop so I completely worked my way back to second and almost won the moto. But the second moto I grabbed the holeshot and lead the whole race. It was awesome, got to win and have my whole family there to watch!

I've got 2 that stand out for me.

My first year racing in the Pro class in Canada. I was so excited to sign up for Montreal Supercross. We got there and the track was terrifying. 4 wheels and supercross are a sketchy combination. My times were terrible the first couple practices. I knew if I wanted to get into the night show I would have to hit the finish line jump. The thing was huge and super steep, If you jumped long or short you had a hospital trip coming. In my last practice I was trying every lap to get the nerve up. Dad had the pit board and just kept writing "smooth is fast" He was never the type to pressure me. My friend, on the other hand, was. He grabbed the board from my dad and wrote "hit the finny you pussy." That Lap I cleared it, then put down my best lap of the weekend before getting blocked going for it again. Practice ended, I pulled off and I saw my dad there absolutely beaming. He couldn't believe I'd managed to hit that jump. He hugged me and told me how proud he was. I ended up missing qualifying by 3/10ths of a second. I didn't really care at that point. Just that moment with my dad was enough.

Number 2 was in Mexico. I had been asked to race the Baja 500 for Parks Offroad and ended up with a broken down quad out in the desert. I had covered 103 miles in 2.5 hrs and my camelbak was empty. The team couldn't get to me for 3 hours. When they did, I was severely dehydrated and suffering from heat stroke. When we got back to where the team was my dad was there. I don't think I've ever been so happy to see someone in my life

Every time we loaded up the kid and went to a race! Priceless every time

My fondest riding memories are the early days (1999-2000) with my dad pounding laps out in the desert by the house before any houses or roads were out there. We had a pretty sweet track mapped out in this riverbed with a long turning set of sand rollers, a few jumps in and out of the wash, and some wide open talledega sand bowl turns that I would hammer as hard as I could every time. I remember when it would rain and he would show up to school with my CR80 loaded in the back of the truck to sign me out early for "an appointment" I would burn through a whole jug of gas and we'd both be covered in dirt coming home with the biggest smiles. Also late nights working on that 99 CR80 with him in the garage! Nights wrenching on that taught me how to work on bikes really young and I'll never have to send anything of mine to someone else to work on ever again.

Thanks for letting me go down memory lane. Lost my old man in 09 and I'll never forget the times we had riding dirt and street together.

Racing at Hutton Conyers nr. Ripon North Yorkshire on my Maico 440cc back in 1978. My parents had managed to get away from the family garage for a few days holiday. Had a great days racing, winning the main event and after I got back to pits was surprised to see Mum and Dad waiting to congratulate me. They had been there all afternoon but didn't want to make me nervous, knowing they were watching.
Afterwards we went back to their hotel nearby for a celebration meal.

Family wise, I have no moto memories. I'm making those memories now with my kid. When I was racing, my family wouldn't support me and come watch. It scared the crap out of them. My mom came to one race and I ate it right in front of her. Got tangled up with another bike and cut my shoulder open. Not bad, but enough to soak some of my jersey in blood. She lost it when I got up to go line up for my next moto. She vowed to never come watch me race again and held true to that.

Oh man, so many...

1) Way back in 1974 my dad bought a DT175. He used to ride around with me sitting on the gas tank, holding onto the handlebars. Many years later, I putted around at Pala with my kid on the tank of my YZ250 and smiled about coming full circle.

2) The day I took my first win, my dad had left the track to go get my sister. They weren't back by the time the first moto was about to go off, so I just put my helmet on and went for it. I found my way into the lead and checked out (this was the 80cc Beginner class, mind you,) but it was kind of a hollow feeling without my dad there. Except, lo and behold, after the white flag I came around a random corner and saw my dad and sister going absolutely nuts for me. One of the best days of my life, bar none.

3) I took my girlfriend and future wife to the World Mini in Las Vegas one year, and she invited some friends to come hang out in Vegas. They all decided to go check out the races on Sunday, when I had my last moto. I threw down a great race and had some luck to take the win in front of my girl and her friends. They all approved of me after that!

DTHA70 wrote:

My fondest riding memories are the early days (1999-2000) with my dad pounding laps out in the desert by the house before any houses or roads were out there. We had a pretty sweet track mapped out in this riverbed with a long turning set of sand rollers, a few jumps in and out of the wash, and some wide open talledega sand bowl turns that I would hammer as hard as I could every time. I remember when it would rain and he would show up to school with my CR80 loaded in the back of the truck to sign me out early for "an appointment" I would burn through a whole jug of gas and we'd both be covered in dirt coming home with the biggest smiles. Also late nights working on that 99 CR80 with him in the garage! Nights wrenching on that taught me how to work on bikes really young and I'll never have to send anything of mine to someone else to work on ever again.

Thanks for letting me go down memory lane. Lost my old man in 09 and I'll never forget the times we had riding dirt and street together.

I'm sorry for your loss but I'm enjoyed reading your story.

Almost every good memory I have from my childhood comes from the track.

If I had to pinpoint one split second moment, it would be making the left handed mechanics corner at Mammoth in 2010. It was the last lap and it was my first time running inside the top 5 at a national. I had never even been close to the top 10, so this was a pretty special, but seeing my dad when I came outta the corner was something I'll never forget...
My dad was just balling his eyes out. He couldn't even hold the pitboard out, just had one fist shaking wildly with the other covering his mouth trying to hold back the tears as I rode by.

That moment will be one I will aslways hold close to my heart looking back on the 10+ years of racing

moscrop940 wrote:

Almost every good memory I have from my childhood comes from the track.

If I had to pinpoint one split second moment, it would be making the left handed mechanics corner at Mammoth in 2010. It was the last lap and it was my first time running inside the top 5 at a national. I had never even been close to the top 10, so this was a pretty special, but seeing my dad when I came outta the corner was something I'll never forget...
My dad was just balling his eyes out. He couldn't even hold the pitboard out, just had one fist shaking wildly with the other covering his mouth trying to hold back the tears as I rode by.

That moment will be one I will aslways hold close to my heart looking back on the 10+ years of racing

Never underestimate the love you have for a kid. That's a killer story, man.

Back story: My dad got me into racing at age 5, and that was essentially my entire childhood, going to the track every weekend. Always made our run for loretta's, always crashed out at the regionals and never punched the ticket. Many serious injuries later, and one bad one at Red Bud amateur day the summer before my senior year of HS, he decided to sell the bikes and it was time for me to focus on college.

Story: A few years later I had decided to buy my own bike, and decided to race my first "A class" race, just to say I raced the expert class after all those years trying to make it in the nationals in the B class. Show up to the track pretty out of shape, hadn't raced in two years, and was lining up with some fairly fast local competition, guys who had been racing every weekend and taking it seriously. I ended up pulling 3 out of 4 holeshots that day and won every moto, it was the best race day I have had in my "career".

All those years I felt the pressure and never could perform, and the day I showed up too fat and not caring about how I finished, I dominated the field.

And of course, I can't think of many times at the track when my family (Dad, Mom, Sister, and the dogs) weren't with me at the track.

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For Christmas in 1985 my dad and my brother and I all drove together from West Virginia to Croome Off-Road Park in Florida to spend a couple of weeks riding and getting ready (Timmy and I) to go race in Europe for a couple of weeks. The timing was terrible for the holidays but we made the best of having a Christmas Eve dinner on our own at the Holiday Inn where we were staying, then went back to the room to just watch TV. Thumbing through the channels, we stumbled upon a movie none of us had ever seen: A Christmas Story, starring Ralphie and his quest for a Red Rider BB Rifle. The three of us watched it together and just laughed and laughed... And then when it ended, it came on again, and we watched it again! The next day, Christmas, we went riding all day with another kid from the north down there with just his dad, Jeff Stanton.

It was the last big trip just the three of us ever took together, and it was maybe my favorite Christmas (of the ones before I had my own kids). There was no Santa Claus that year, but it was still really, really cool and special.

DC
Racer X

newmann wrote:

That first time I found myself unable to run the kids down and pass them.

Me too.

This was my son's first day on a 125 after moving up from the 85, and that's me behind on our 250R trying to catch him. This was in 2010. He's been on our 2nd 250R for years, and he's only gotten further away from me.

I loved every minute of it, and I will catch him one of these days..

My son and I....driving to the track. Best bonding times of our lives.

I'd post a lot more if there was more cool stuff like this on the forum. For me it's this picture...or this period of my riding. I was lucky, I got to ride a few SXs, a few Nationals, race in Europe...but I got sentimental this winter thinking about it all. And if I had a time machine and could go back to any era...this was my favorite and the most special. Just starting as an 80 beginner and racing every weekend with my dad. We'd share goggles and used a garbage bag for a gear bag. Eating donuts that tasted like gas on cold Sunday mornings because the tank behind the seat in our 63 Chevy pick up leaked. This was the best...floundering all fall in 89 just trying to figure it out...until the magical day we both brought home trophies.

In my house, hockey was as important as education.
Liked hockey, loved dirt bikes.

I has a trail bike and had full access to a friends TM400 left at my place (yes, one of them).

Asked my Dad if he would take me racing, “No”.

He died shortly afterward. He probably saved my life.

Cool stories everyone.

The whole of riding through 1997 is ingrained into some of my best memories. After waiting yrs (begging as a kid) my parents finally got me a clapped out old YZ 125 - far too big for me, but it was the best thing since sliced bread as far as I was concerned.

The awesome thing was that the local Honda dealer had a deal with a farmer in the area, who let them build a track on a piece of unusable land, and in-turn anyone who paid £20 could ride it for the entire year!

Most of the time I had the whole thing to myself. It was gloriously hot in 1997 too. The dirt was awesome, and the layout (for what it was) was very exciting, particularly for a beginner. Mum and dad would mostly chillout in deck chairs as I slowly rolled round feeling badass. Off the bike for sandwiches and coffee, and then back at it.

I will never ever forget it, everything felt like magic - I just can't believe where all the yrs have gone...

Last I rode there was in 2002, by which point I was (by my standards) flying round it. I believe that it's now completely covered in trees and a large pond. Track consumed by nature and relegated to history

My earliest was when I was probably 5 or maybe 6 years old, I had just gotten my XR50 and was getting halfway decent on it. My dad picked me up from school one day, brought me back home, and had me get my gear on to go ride in the back of our shop. We always had a little track back there as I was growing up, but this was when it was first beginning. He and a friend had spent the day digging a little double back there for me to hit when I got home, I don't remember how big it was but enough to make me pretty nervous. I remember him just saying "go at it in 2nd gear and you'll be fine", so I did, and to my surprise I made it no problem! It's funny what you remember and don't remember from your early childhood, but I think that is my earliest memory.