everyone, and welcome to the Rev-Up. I don’t know about you guys, but I
could use a break in the action following the stress of the past four
weeks. Man, that supercross thing got wild down the stretch, didn’t it?
Big crashes, close battles, the mud, the blood, and the beer. And it
all came to an immaculate climax, beginning with the Godfather
backflipping what Evel could not conquer, a semi-retirement, a live
broadcast, and two champions.
Wow. It’s all so crazy nowadays. As the world gets smaller, everything
we do just seems to continue to get bigger, faster, and stronger. Be
that as it may, I have been on a long stoke for the past several weeks.
Sometimes enough travel to the right places, reading the right things,
and being around the right people will reward you with a realization
that things are pretty damn amazing on this mud ball we call home. It
isn’t hard to be happy or excited this time of year anyway, but I want
to use this week’s column to explain my stoke in particular and
hopefully spread some of it around.
A month or so ago, I wrote to you about how cool I thought it was to be
pecking in data from the 1993 running of Loretta Lynn’s. Since then, I
continue to be attached to the pulse of this incredible event. The last
time I competed at the AMA Amateur Nationals at the ranch was 1996, and
it was just beginning to grow to what it is today. They put a roof on
top of the pavilion, bigger sponsors were rolling in, and the family
haulers were getting bigger and, well, more bigger. The riders were
getting faster, too.
Evel is still the man
photo: Racer X Archives
weeks ago, I rode with Davey and Vance Coombs out to a local race at
Mt. Morris. I was met with a sight that still has me shaking my head in
amazement: On this day there would be more than 600 riders taking to
the track. Why so many riders for a rudimentary local event? They all
wanted to get track time at the venue that will be holding the Amateur
Regional on June 3 and 4.
Upon arriving, I just kind of took off on my own like I always do and
went for a stroll around the pits. It had been almost 10 years since I
had last been there, and I was shocked to see that I could see all the
way across the track. The trees were gone and the place looked like a
real racing center. Then I climbed to the top of the three-story
announcing tower (also new to me) to watch some practice. As I gazed
out across the beautiful, rolling, spring-green hills of the High Point
course, I stared across the bottom past the starting gate and set my
eyes on the famous uphill triple step-up. The days of seeing Guy Cooper
stand his RM125 straight up and down and barely skim the lip on that
shot through my head. Man, I wanted to ride and maybe go jump that jump
like I did in 1994.
Just then, I heard an engine singing in the meat of the power band. I
turned my head to see a little guy on a KX80 with his feet on the pegs
and his throttle arm pinned at his rib cage, grabbing gears around the
banked corner leading into the step up. I just kind of smiled and
thought, Yeah, right, kid, you better let off or you’re toast. Nope.
The grommet preloaded his suspension, shot upward and outward like a
rocket, storked the front up end, then tapped the rear brake, threw a
little whip, and kissed the backside of the third jump smoother than a
baby’s butt. Holy smokes - 80s are jumping what only Bradshaw and
Stanton could in 1991!
“A picture is worth a thousand words?” This photo can be summed up in one word: sick.
photo: Matt Ware
how long it had been since I had ridden, and knowing that if I climbed
on a bike right then and there and tried that jump, I would probably be
eating through an I.V. for a month or so, I climbed back down and
continued my journey through the pits. I reached the back of the pit
area and happened upon the biggest Peterbilt custom hauler I had ever
seen. There was a half dozen Hondas parked beside it with a tall,
good-looking kid leaned over one of them talking to a pretty girl. It
was Tyler Bowers. Of course, Tyler is an exceptional talent, but man,
the life of a 15-year-old nowadays is pretty amazing!
From there my stoke just continued to pick up steam. I joined the
entire motocross industry and waited in giddy anticipation for last
week’s conclusion of the 2006 Amp’d Mobile Supercross Series. It was so
cool to read all of the preview articles and all of the message-board
threads and watch the commercials, which all hyped the race of the
decade. If all of that wasn’t enough, my favorite band of all time,
Tool, had just released their fifth installment of musical genius,
10,000 Days. Talk about progression: That insanely brilliant group of
musicians from the Midwest have raised the bar of what can be done with
a couple guitars, a set of drums, and a man with an unprecedented set
of pipes. Music always enhances my surroundings, and this album came
out for me at the prefect time. It almost seemed like divine
The time finally came. The weekend was upon us and the opening act, if
you will, was Mike Metzger and his Mission Impossible: III leap. Now,
some of us “insiders” know that there are probably a dozen other guys
that could have flipped that gap, with any number of variations. The
jump was incredible, but Regis would have probably only given it an 8.5
(you know, for over-rotating and all. Ha!).
Hey, Metz, try that gap on this machine
photo: Racer X Archives
folks, slow down for a second and think a little harder about the
reality of backflipping a 200 lb. dirt bike over a 125-foot distance….
Sure, Evel had major, major stones for trying to huck it on a 600-pound
Triumph, hung over as hell, wearing only a pair of coveralls and a
star-spangled “crash helmet.” But I have to give it to the Metz,
because in the middle of all of his tattooed, bust big, “I’m Pro”
spiel, the guy truly has some wit in him. There was some real genius in
how he explained that Evel, the original madman, was a daredevil and a
completely different showman altogether than what he was. The Godfather
of Freestyle Motocross and all of the guys that file in behind him are
not daredevils; they are insanely gifted and talented riders who
possess a focus and coordination that rival, and in my opinion, best,
any sporting element on the planet. I mean, guinea-pigging a 125-foot
gap is pretty gnarly, but calculating a slow-rotating backflip over it?
That’s video-game stuff, guys. It’s all gotten way off the frame! And
Then, of course, was the race—the live television broadcast of the
biggest race of our generation. Shamefully, I had failed to put myself
in a position to attend. Instead, I made plans to attend Richmond
International Raceway and watch my brother try to get it done in his
#07 Jack Daniel’s Chevrolet on Saturday night. At the race, I was
surprised how many people were asking me about the supercross series
and how many had planned on running back to their motor coaches to
watch the live show. I was already on a big high when I got to the
event, but after standing along side Clint on pit row with my hat over
my heart during the national anthem and feeling my chest cave from the
F-14s that crushed the air overhead, man, I was stoked. That thrill
stayed with me all the way through the 400 laps when Clint took the
checkered flag in 10th place. If that wasn’t cool enough, Dale Jr. won
the race. Now, attending a NASCAR race is an awe-inspiring event in
itself, but being there when Dale Earnhardt Jr. wins a race is
completely spectacular. The adoration he gets from 70 percent of the
100,00-plus fans in attendance is staggering. The vibe was so positive
and triumphant, it’s hard to find the words to describe it. I guess the
best way to describe it would simply be a big smile.
When this guy wins, an entire industry wins
photo: Simon Cudby
I got to watch the supercross, which was probably the most intense
experience I can remember. Even at 2:00 a.m. EST, my heart was racing.
It all turned out pretty good. RC and James got titles and Chad Reed
showed up for the fight. The sport has grown so much. Live television
is a big, big deal. Although after the race, when James and Ricky were
walking around with #1 jerseys on, I couldn’t help but ask myself what
a newbie fan might be thinking when Greg White asked James, “How does
it feel to be the World Champion?” Then, a couple minutes later Krista
Voda asked Ricky, “How does it feel to be the AMA Supercross champion?”
What the heck?
As far as we have come and as far as the sport has progressed, it’s
abundantly clear that we still have a ways to go. But I have faith
we’ll get there. We are going in the right direction, and that is what
But hey, like I said, I’m stoked. I have always been a huge fan of
progression, and we’ve seen a mountain of that in the past few weeks.
It’s a great time of year! Everything is getting warm and turning
green, girls are walking in short shorts, and the outdoor nationals are
right around the corner. Did you hear me? The outdoor freaking
nationals kick off next weekend! I’m stoked! The title of this week’s
column is “Progression.” Ask yourself one question: How much did James
Stewart’s outdoor skills progress in one year? We’re going to find out
in eight days. Now that should put a smile on your face.
What we have to look forward to next week!
photo: Simon Cudby
Oh yeah, the Racer X
guys seem to have something up their sleeve, too. Stay tuned for
that—and a whole lot more. It’s a great time to be a motocross fan.