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 34 Years of MotocrossI couldn’t afford to own a motorcycle until I was in my late 20's, when I bought my first - a 1951 Indian Warrior that I restored and rode for a short time.  I then bought my first new bike, a Suzuki X5 (“little brother” to the Suzuki X6). However, I hadn’t considered riding it in the dirt, until invited to do so by a Navy buddy who showed up with his X6. He wanted to ride, and it didn’t occur to us that ours weren't dirt bikes. Up until that time, you went “whole hog” dirt bike (i.e. Bultaco, Husky, Greeves, etc.) - there was no “in between” bike. I ended up with the high pipe X5 with knobbies, and I thought that was about it. Then, Yamaha brought out the DT. My X5 was traded off, and I got a little more serious about off road riding. However, I still hadn't considered racing or motocross, since it was new at that time and I really didn't know what it was all about.  In 1969, Yamaha brought out the DT1S, which was essentially a DT1 with a 21 inch front wheel and a close ratio transmission. I bought one, on went a GYT kit, and I started riding tracks that some guys who were racing had cut in the open areas by my house at the time. I then met a local guy who was riding his Honda 350 on the tracks too, and we started pushing each other to go faster. The Yamaha wasn't up to it and kept breaking 2nd gear, so it was traded for a new 1970 250 CZ. It took only one day of my friend riding his Honda against my CZ....the very next day, he showed up with his own new 360 CZ. He then got the idea of racing and in April of 1970, we went to Perris, CA to compete in our first CMC race. I finshed about 10th in the first moto and DNF'ed the rest of the day with a broken ring in my CZ, but I liked it and that started it all for me. I pretty much raced exclusively with CMC; riding the tracks at Perris, Saddleback and Carlsbad. I finished the 1971 racing year, earning CMC's number 7 plate and having advanced to Expert. From 1972 until 1979, I raced in the Pro/Expert class with CMC, AMC, AME and some AMA District 38 races around San Diego.   I always had one problem racing in the Pro class - I was a good 15 or so years older than most of the hot riders at the time (such as Marty Tripes, Broc Glover, Rick Johnson, Ron Lechien and others who often raced CMC too). I was also in the situation of being married with two little daughters, and working as a manager for IBM in San Diego—not exactly a formula for devoting my life to motocross.  When I
turned 40, I was eligible to ride in with the “Old Timers” and
CMC’sMaster class for ages 40+. I had
kept up a
pretty good
physical training program, and suddenly I was winning the
Master class on a regular basis. In 1982, CMC founder and President Stu Peters told me I should get serious about going after CMC’s number one plate in the Master class. I took his advice, and proceeded to win the number one plate for both 1982 and 1983. My racing tapered off after that, and I raced very little in 1985 and 1986. However, in 1987, I got back into racing quite often, until a race on July 4th. I didn't even complete the first lap before crashing on the famous Carlsbad downhill, and was transported out via Life Flight with broken ribs, collarbone and a serious head injury. To this day, I have no memory to this day of the crash or what happened to cause it. An observer said it just looked like I fell off; I know I must have landed without trying to protect myself, considering all the injuries I sustained. The crash ended my racing for the next ten years, until Honda brought out the aluminum frame 250 in 1997 and I thought I had to try it. I bought one and raced it for a few months; but not really liking the bike, I quit again. Then, in 1998, Yamaha brought out the 450F and I saw it raced at the San Diego Supercross. I loved the sound of it, and shortly thereafter I bought one. A new club had started putting on races at Carlsbad, and I got back into racing pretty often. The club was running some series of races, and I ended up winning three of the series in my class while loving riding the YZ450F. Then, in 1999, I was practicing at Carlsbad when I hooked my toe in the dirt on a corner and spun it around pretty good. I heard the sound of a crack in my ear; in denial I raced the first moto, but then the pain sent me home. Sure enough, when an x-ray was taken, it confirmed I had a broken leg. Adding to that, the week before, I had slid out on the Carlsbad hairpin turn and caught my little finger between the clutch lever and the handlebar when I went down. I had it x-rayed when I went in for the leg, and found that it was broken too. Since 1988, when I had stopped racing, I had taken up jazz guitar. A broken little finger in my left hand put an end to the guitar playing until it healed. I felt that I had to weigh which I liked best—playing guitar or racing. The guitar won and I sold the Yamaha; but when Honda came out with their 450CRF in 2002, I couldn't resist again and was back to racing at Carlsbad. By this time, the only place close to San Diego to race (that I liked) was Carlsbad. Then it closed, was bulldozed, and is only a fond memory now. I sold the Honda and although I still have the urge, I haven't owned a dirt bike since. The glory years were the 70's for me. I raced CZ's until they were made obsolete by the Japanese bikes. I owned and raced the first YZA 250 to come to San Diego. I raced GP Huskys in 1975 through 1977; Honda and Maico in 1978 – 79; Huskys again in 1981 - 82 and then Hondas in 1983 through 1987. 34 years passed from my first motocross race until my last; and even with the downside of injuries, I loved it. If Carlsbad was still there, I know I would go race again. I'm happy that I will always have the mementos and the memories. |
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From Chuck's Daughter
 When I was growing up, motorcycles were just a normal part of life in our household - just as much as the refrigerator or stove. I couldn't have even imagined the possibility of my dad not having motorcycles. From my very earliest memories, that was just something that went along with him. I was never much of a "girl" - and I'm still a tomboy at 40+. At the age when most little girls wanted Barbie dolls, I wanted my own motorcycle so I could ride in the dirt like my dad. I settled for a boys' BMX dirt bike, and rode in the same open areas where my dad first started riding his motorcycles. I remember my dad would go out racing, and it seemed like he always came home with the same two things - a trophy, and a broken collarbone. My dad never knew this, but in junior high school, my sister and I snitched some of his motorcycle racing jerseys and wore them to school so we could look cool.  In addition to motorcross racing, my dad was always restoring Indian motorcycles and classic 1950's cars. I loved the Indians, especially the ones that had covered fenders and the fringed seats. I liked watching how he would start with a bunch of boxes of junk, and turn them into a beautiful antique car or motorcycle that looked brand-new again. Motorcycles and classic cars are so much a part of my dad, I think it's in his DNA. That would explain why I've inherited it from him. I definitely take after my dad. I loved riding my friend's dirt bike (until I accidentally rode it off the side of an embankment one day.) I even got myself an old classic car so I could restore it into a sick ride, like my dad's. But instead of a Thunderbird, mine is a Karmann Ghia (I've wanted a VW ever since seeing Herbie the Love Bug). Once I can afford to finish fixing it up, I'll be driving around looking cool like my dad does. A few years ago, my best friend's son started racing motocross. We spent the whole day at the track watching the races, along with our daughters, and I wished I could have seen my dad race. I would have been thrilled to watch my dad winning all those trophies. I remember the Carlsbad Downhill accident. I was so terrified when I found out how close I'd come to losing my dad. His friends retrieved his busted helmet, and had it mounted on a custom made plaque for him. That helmet saved his life, so it definitely deserved the honor.  Even though I missed out on seeing my dad race, I've always been proud of his accomplishments. I liked seeing his name in newspaper articles, and all the trophies he'd won. Even now, it's totally awesome to show people the pictures of him racing and say "That's my dad". No dad out there could ever possibly be cooler than mine!!!  |
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