Daytona is both a destination and a journey. Daytona is both a track and a town. Daytona is unlike any other. By now all the series have left the beach and headed back to the normal. Monster Energy Supercross is back in a dome, Amsoil GNCC back in the woods, GEICO EnduroCross back to the west, ATV racers and amateur kids back to traditional motocross tracks. Road racers are at Daytona right now, but the Daytona 200 isn’t even part of the regular road racing championship anymore. Daytona is different.
Think of it this way: At Daytona, Chad Reed was introduced as a three-time Daytona Supercross Champion. Is Chad Reed ever described as a seven-time Anaheim Supercross Champion? Ryan Dungey was introed as “looking for his first Daytona win.” Would we say he’s “looking for his first Detroit win” in the same vein?
The Daytona difference is as obvious as the schedule. It’s the only time this year where multiple races will be on the same travel schedule, and I’ve run the gauntlet and the gamut down there for a long time now. Before we put it in the rearview and officially go on with our regularly scheduled regular races, here’s what this year’s week looked like. (Hint: totally different than any other races within the same series.)
Friday
Every round of Monster Energy Supercross runs a press day, but they’re usually on Thursday, and the teams are picked at random. Daytona’s SX press day is a Friday thing, and the team selection immediately reminds you of who has the keys to the place. Honda is title sponsor of the race, so Trey Canard, Cole Seely, Eli Tomac, Justin Bogle, RJ Hampshire and Jordon Smith get the invite. Ricky Carmichael designs the track, so Ken Roczen and Broc Tickle ride as well. That’s the lineup. Soon the distinct Floridaness of the event shines through—it starts to rain. Rain is always a deal in Florida, the locals say if you don’t like the weather, just wait 20 minutes and it will change. It starts to really dump at exactly 1 p.m., but the riders fire away and start jumping jumps anyway. Daytona’s track is sandy and the water does virtually no damage. I’m the track announcer for the Daytona Supercross, so I get to interview each rider after the riding session. They all say they had a blast testing the new layout, and the rain is a non-factor. Rough, sandy, tracks only get better with a little bit of rain.
You know why else everyone is in a good mood? This is a local event. At this time of year, with two Atlanta races and this one in Florida, every top rider finds a place to live and ride locally. This means they could just drive over to Daytona like they would Angel Stadium, but without all the hype, pressure, hangers oners, nerves, distractions and ticket requests they deal with in Southern California. Florida is just hanging out with buddies and riding dirt bikes. Without any other Florida races left on the calendar, Daytona is the only one that gets that vibe.
GEICO EnduroCross makes its debut in Daytona on Friday night. It is literally in Daytona Beach—not Daytona International Speedway but in the Ocean Arena, a small building right near the Mainstreet/Downtown/A1A gaggle of biker fun. It’s packed down there and we can barely find a place to park. But parking is easier than picking up tickets at will call, because every industry person is in Daytona right now, they all want to watch EnduroCross, and they all called in favors for free tickets (I’m doing EnduroCross TV this year and I make it a habit to pay for nothing so I’m on that list. I didn’t even shower before I left for the airport this morning because, hey, hotels are giving me free water, shampoo and soap!). We wade through the mile-long will call wait, and everyone in our group gets different stuff—wrist bands, tickets, credentials, all of it—because the “freebie” box has been raided. I’m in the Racer X gang, but we soon see JT and his Florida bench racer all-stars, then the entire TwoTwo Motorsports crew, every photographer and press guy who will be at the supercross the next day, as well as every sponsor, agent, trainer, mechanic, man friend and bench racer, all trying to weasel into free tickets. We all want to watch from the outside but be considered as insiders.
I’ve been to a lot of EnduroCross races but this one is unique. They were supposed to build a track with clay but black sand showed up instead, which made the course really tough. Holes formed in front of each big obstacle, and ruts went down to the concrete floor. EnduroCross needs a showcase like this, though, because it’s building new stars. Taddy Blazusiak has decided to stay home in Europe this year, so Cody Webb is the new champ and face of the series. But Cody is not a superstar yet, in fact he’s still going to college full-time! True to his billing, he comes through with the win, but not without crashing three times. The champ won, but the champ struggled. That’s classic EnduroCross, but this time a lot of new people got to see it.
Saturday
You already know what happened at the Daytona Supercross by Honda. I’ve been lucky enough to announce this race since 2008 (the year of the epic rain that, yes, even destroyed a sand track) but this year was extra cool. My buddy Kevin Kelly from DMXS Radio got a spot on the announcing team, too, and we got to carry at least one percent of our Loretta’s joke schtick to the big crowd here. Something about Daytona makes you take your gig seriously. I also avoided pyro blasts this year, as I’m usually running through the infield for opening ceremonies just when the hits start coming like IEDs in Iraq. Took eight years for me to learn to figure out the blast zones. Sometimes it’s hard to stay in control, though, because the atmosphere here is electric.
Fans are all on one side of the track, so you feel like the whole event is held on a giant stage. The fans get close, too. The real kicker comes at the very end, when the 450 champagne starts flying, and they open the gates and let the fans flood the infield and get to the podium. There are thousands of fans there cheering and screaming for their heroes, hoping to get a free pair of goggles but instead getting a champagne blast to the face. There literally isn’t room to fit these people on the floor at a normal supercross, and the scene is more like Red Bud or Millville on the best days—only with the massive Daytona International Speedway in the background. Ryan Dungey gets to say he won his first Daytona—we will not say he won his “first” anything else this year. This is special.
Sunday
Whoever sets the Daylight Savings Time schedule needs to consult the Daytona Bike Week schedule. We’re running a darned amateur race the morning after Saturday night’s Daytona Supercross, and one hour less sleep is really costly. Instead of maybe four hours we’re getting three, and when I return at 6 a.m. Sunday, it feels like I was just there because I actually was just there. I didn’t even have time to take another free shower in my hotel!
Some people don’t even bother. At 6 a.m. I get a phone call from some members of a race team that just kept the Saturday night hijinks going into Sunday morning. I barely feel any better than they do.
I get on the microphone and wake everyone up. It’s time for practice as soon as the sun comes up (albeit that’s one hour later than it was yesterday). The Ricky Carmichael Amateur Supercross as Daytona is alive and well. Also, the Daytona staff is. I credit these folks, they’re by my side through every minute of the Saturday race, and also right back in position Sunday morning. Hey, a month ago they held a 24-hour race here. This is cake.
At Daytona, when I stop talking on the mic, someone magically just starts playing music. At any time, all day. This means somewhere some guy is just listening to every word I say, sunrise to sunset, just in case I stop for one minute and the crowd needs some rock music to cover the dead air. And during opening ceremonies, I just say, “And now our National Anthem” and it just starts playing! No cue, no eye contact, no idea how it’s even working. The music just starts!
By 10 a.m. things are rolling along for the amateurs. DMXS’ David Izer and Andy “Rev Up” Bowyer are on hand to do some announcing, so I hop in the car and head two hours north to catch the Amsoil GNCC opener. Like EnduroCross, this event is an industry hangout, the starting area lined with people who might not make another GNCC this year (that list might include me although I’m trying to squeeze in that South Carolina race in April).
Like Cody Webb on Friday, it’s up to Kailub Russell to show off his fancy number-one plate to all the check writers in the industry on hand to watch. Like Webb, he delivers, opening up a massive lead early and riding unchallenged. I cut my teeth in this sport at the GNCCs, and I’ve seen some of the best. I’d argue that right now Kailub is winning races in a more dominant fashion than anyone, ever, even the great (GOAT?) Juha Salminen. After the race, I ask Kailub if we need to start building the mythical bench-racing sessions between 2015 him and 2005 Juha. “I wish I could see what would happen,” he says, relishing the challenge of even ficticious foes.
Deep down, don’t you think Carmichael and Hannah would have liked to have settled it, prime versus prime?
Monday
I was supposed to head back to Daytona after the GNCC, but my buddy Hooper had a motorhome and Coors Light and I was tired and soon it was really late. Soon it was really early—Monday—and I had to book it back for a 7 a.m. appointment with the amateur race. I was even supposed to follow another staffer back, but I couldn’t hang with the pace. I try to not break speed limits on the roads of Bike Week, because the cops are out en masse. Maybe Ford Focus rentals aren’t the real target, though?
The RCSX was a great concept from the start, but the event didn’t really come into its own until last year. The once-crowded “big amateur race” landscape has been rearranged and organized, and this race is considered a Major, with the big teams and names making the trip. When the potent Bakersfield Bunch of California minicycle hot shots makes the trip all the way to Florida, you know it’s working. Really impressive to see amateur riders on this track—it’s tamed way down, but you can still recognize who can block pass, step-on-off and triple their way around the place. Winners include Husqvarna’s minicycle prospect Jalek Swoll (the white/blue/yellow Husky look is really growing on me, by the way. Amazing how a stodgy old heritage brand suddenly looks all young and hot again), Team Green’s Darian Sanayei in the coveted Amateur All-Star class, and KTM’s Daniel Baker, who was absolutely blazing fast.
Watch for Austin Forkner, though. His starts absolutely sucked all day but his speed was on point. Forkner is still just getting started as a B rider on big bikes. He could be #next. There were many other impressive talents and no doubt their relatives will let it be known by sending emails or tweets my way because I left their kid out of the above list. The safest way to rank amateurs? Don’t.
Races are jammed right into the final minutes of daylight, even with the clocks set back. I’ve watched five races in four days, announced most of all of them, and enjoyed every minute. Things at Daytona take up a lot of time, but yet they're never quite long enough.