Well, I told you a while back that I would attend a flat track race this year, and boy, did I ever ! I got the assignment from Harley to cover the Springfield mile in Springfield, Illinois and it was like walking back into the time when I used to drive all night to see the Sacramento mile and the Pomona mile. It’s still the same, nothing has changed. The story will appear in the next issue due out soon.

Everything is the same, the winners still ride Harleys, and there is a hard core of fans who follow the races like camp followers of the Roman Legions. The fans know all the riders, all their stats, their won loss record and their favorite color. And this fantastic form of racing, America’s most exciting motor sport is still almost an underground event. Television covers it grudgingly, radio ignores it, and the Youtube videos are all old. Does that mean Flat Track is dead? No, it’s just either ahead of, or behind its time. Back in the day, Grand National Flat Track racing was the biggest sport around and on any given Sunday you could go watch a motorcycle flat track race when the thoroughbreds weren’t running. It was a wonderful spectacle with high school bands and bunting on the rails. And it was OUR kind of racing, American Yankee motor racing.

Nowadays for some folks, European style motocross and grand prix road racing has replaced the popularity of flat track. But not for yours truly, and not for the fanatical folks at Springfield.

After the H.O.G. article is printed and sent out, I’ll include it here on this blog.

Please forgive me for not writing these last few weeks. The reason I’ve
not written lately is because of a huge shift in my life. I’m a working
man now, (still writing, of course, but no more profligate living like a
writer or musician-go to bed at midnight, get up at the crack of noon,)
and my days begin at 4:00 in the morning, and don’t end until after 7:00
in the evening. On top of that I’m working outdoors, and in this
situation here in Texas, the thermometer reaches over 140 everyday. When
I get home I can barely lift my arms let alone write.

What’s happening, is that I’m a motorcycle instructor for the Armed
Forces, and right now I’m working at Ft. Hood, Killeen, Texas. And I
gotta tell ya’, I really really love it.

I work for Cape Fox Inc., which has the contract to teach Motorcycle
safety to all of America’s military, and Ft. Hood is their biggest
facility; we teach 350 soldiers a month.

The classes we teach are: Basic Rider Course, Experienced Rider Course,
Military Refresher Course, (This is our own curriculum developed for
soldiers just returning from deployment) and Sportbike Course.

It’s a wonderful feeling to contribute to the safety of these kids, and
they’re all great kids. They’re intelligent, witty, dedicated, educated,
and their physical skills are razor sharp. It’s astounding to watch
these men return from the mountains of Afghanistan where they’re
hunters/hunted, and transfer their skills and awareness to the dangers
of riding on America’s streets. They’re WAY sharper than civilian
students. It’s the difference between teaching guard dog training to a
lean and wary wolf from the wilds, and a fat lapdog poodle.

For the first month or so, my ego got in the way of understanding what I
was doing for these soldiers. I wasn’t sure I wanted to do this; that it
was a “come down” from being a motorcycle magazine jock. For twenty five
years, I’ve enjoyed the lofty position of Motor Journalist, and being
an insider into the industry. My cell phone contains the speed dial
numbers of such legends as Arlen Ness, Dave Perewitz, Donnie Smith, and
Willie G. Davidson. When I left a voice mail with any level of OEM
management, whether it be Honda, Kawasaki, Ducati, et al, they called
back immediately.

I’ve spent a couple of days with Jay Leno, ridden with Arnold
Schwarzenegger, Ann Margaret, and dozens of other celebrities. Rode to
Sturgis and Daytona Bike Week for 30 years in a row. I criss crossed
America 35 times by motorcycle, and rode through 31 foreign countries.
But that comes with the territory of being a motorcycle journalist,
everybody on the Cycle World staff has done the same, and it’s heady
stuff. Best of all, I was a writer, and enjoyed basking in the glow of
knowing that hundreds of thousands of people were devouring my deathless
prose. Even now I still get wonderful letters from people who have just
discovered an article I did five or ten years ago, and they tell me how
much they enjoyed it. That’s wonderful and I cherish those letters. I’m
deeply proud of my contribution to motorcycling as a journalist. And
yet, I knew I was a cog in the great marketing effort of motorcycling.
Yes, I met wonderful people and had a great time. But looking back, I
was viewing the motorcycle world from atop Mt. Olympus.

But not now. Everyday I get down in the trenches with these young men
and women who have just returned from serving our country. I have the
honor of spending all day with my heroes, people who have put it on the
line for our country. It’s and edgy thing teaching a class with the
‘crump’ of artillery in the distance, and Apache helicopters roaring
overhead. Geez, but I love it.

The students are eager to learn, they have some hazardous duty pay in
their pocket to go out and buy their first motorcycle and take off on it
for their four week furlough. And they’re looking to we instructors to
show them how to do it. In many cases, everything they know about
motorcycles will come from we instructors, and we take it dead nuts
serious. And because of my writing career, I feel like I have a lot to
offer.

So, there you have it. Please forgive me for not writing more and
sooner. I shall do better in the future.

All my best to you,
Beau

I wrote the following story a couple of years ago when I was working for Harley-Davidson corporate and contributing to their Sturgis Events website. Of all the stories I wrote from Sturgis, this one was the most memorable. I had hoped to hear from this gentleman called Wolf, but I never did. Perhaps he lost my cards, perhaps it slipped his mind. If you know Wolf, you might gently remind him that I still have some prints for him of the shot he wanted so much. I’d still very much like to hear from him.

——————————————————————-

I was visiting the Sturgis National Cemetery for the last time this year and I noticed a man just sitting on his Heritage Softail, looking out over this field of valor. The light was perfect and I asked if I might make his picture. He politely and quietly said, ‘sure, I’d like that.’

I introduced myself and he said his name was Wolf. That’s it, just Wolf. I asked if I might have his name for this dispatch, and he quietly said, “no,” And that was that.

He told me that he was from Boston and that he rode all the out here to Sturgis for his trip of a lifetime. From here he would go to the West Coast, ride down hiway one, then back home to Boston. He didn’t know how long he’d be gone, he was just riding.

He was camping close by and he told me that, “I’ve come here every evening just to thank these people for their sacrifice. I owe them,” he said. He told me that he had been a Marine and that he was proud of that. He had joined The Corps during the Viet Nam war, but by the time he was through with training, the fighting was over. He said it in a measured matter-of-fact way that bespoke neither regret nor apology. He told me that his time in the Corps was spent “cleaning up some messes,” around the world. I have no idea what he meant, but I could tell that I had heard all I was going to hear about that.

He only spoke to answer my questions, otherwise he was content to watch with amusement, my working with the camera and trying to catch the light. But mostly he just sat quietly and looked out over the field.

When he did speak first, it was to ask if I might get a picture of him with the United States Marine Corps flag in the background. I told him I’d sure try, and we got some more shots of him and the flag.

After I was done shooting, I gave him some of my cards and told him I’d be honored to send him some prints of this session. He quietly took the cards and gently said, “Why, thank you, that would be nice.” This quiet man is the most genuine biker I met here at Sturgis. He has seen much, he has done much, and he rides far and alone.

I hope I hear from him.

Godspeed Wolf.

I was re-reading my list of motorcycle heroes in the last blog, and lo and behold, most of them were flat track racers at one time or another. Geez, I used to love going to the races and listening to the thunder. My brother and I would drive all day, all night, and all day again just to see the Blue Groove San Jose mile.

So, I’m going to a race this year. It will be one of the AMA biggies, and here’s the schedule for this year’s Hole Shot Series. See you there.

AMA Racing Dirt Track Grand Championships Holeshot Series
For more detailed event schedule information, please contact the promoters

May 2: Short Track, TT
May 3: Short Track
Crooked Creek Raceway
Little Rock, Ark.
Steve Nace Racing
(270) 442-7532
snace@apex.net
www.stevenaceracing.com

May 9: Fayette County Fairgrounds, Brownstown, Ill., TT, Short Track
May 10: Bond County Fairgrounds, Greenville, Ill., Half-mile
Steve Nace Racing
(270) 442-7532
snace@apex.net
www.stevenaceracing.com

May 22: Half-mile
May 23: TT
May 24: Short Track
Eddieville Motorsports Park, Goldendale, Wash.
Mark Anderson
(509) 990-4854
mark@diamondamotorsports.com
www.diamondamotorsports.com

May 22: Short Track
May 23: Half-mile
May 24: TT
Lenawee County Fairgrounds, Adrian, Mich.
Boulis Racing
Ethel Boulis
(810) 686-7083

May 24: Shippensburg Speedway, Shippensburg, Pa., TT, Short Track
May 25: York Fairgrounds, York, Pa., Half-mile
Shippensburg MC
Darryl Baer
(717) 796-0294
candybaer@comcast.net

May 29: Short Track
May 30: TT
Salinas Sports Complex, Salinas, Calif.
California Motorsport Promotions
Jim Beck
(831) 970-3055
jimbeck72@yahoo.com
www.californiamotorsportpromotions.com

May 30: Short Track
May 31: TT
Jackpine Gypsies Short Track, Sturgis, S.D.
Jackpine Gypsies MC
Pat Schieffer
(605) 347-6374 or (605) 490-3222
racerboy62y@hotmail.com
www.jackpinegypsies.com

June 6: Half-mile
June 7: Half-mile
Pickaway County Fairgrounds, Circleville, Ohio
Keene Racing LLC
Thomas Keene
(937) 432-9515
pquik@aol.com
http://keeneracing.blogspot.com

I was wading through the thousands of photographs I’ve taken over the years of motorcycle events, and I decided to put some of them up in this blog. Of all the girls I shot over the years, this girl is probably the most natural beauty of them all. She was working in the infamous Buffalo Chip Campground in 2006, selling insurance or some such thing. Actually, I think her task was to look pretty to attract potential customers—she was doing a great job. We chatted for a couple of minutes and she was a sweet and engaging lady.

I asked her if she’d mind posing on a Harley for me and she said, “sure, I’d love to.” I asked the bike owner if he’d mind if she sat on his bike, and of course he was delighted. I snapped a few shots and that was that. This one photo of her captured her personality perfectly.

I wonder how she’s doing these days. I hope she’s well and happy.

Yes, I know you come here to read about all things motorcycle. But this entry is a bonus of non motorcycle esoteric information; however, it’s a life changing cache of information. Finding such a wonderful treasure trove of secret insight is a rare thing, like discovering a little hidden restaurant in Waco, Texas that has terrific Shabu-Shabu. This is THAT rare.

For a couple of months now, I’ve been watching reruns of Two and a Half men Starring Charlie Sheen. I’ve been recording the shows on my DVR and watching them two at a time after my wife goes to bed. And lately, I’ve noticed something strange at the very end of the credit roll—a full screen of text, about 300 words, but which only stays on the TV screen for about a half second way to fast to read.

Well, for a while I thought it was some sort of network disclaimer, you know the type, where the producers say they comply with at least a couple codicils of the Screen Actor Guild, only a couple animals were hurt in production, and the show only portrays fictional characters or real people that nobody likes and yadda yadda. But I got curious, I wanted to read it and after a few failed attempts I paused the DVR at the text screen. What a revelation! These are no boilerplate legal sludge drippings, each one is a precious jewel of an essay! I read the first one and was transfixed. I had found the modern Rosetta Stone!

No wonder they disappeared from the screen so quickly—they were rants. Manly rants. Rants against the universe, the state of mankind, rants against the networks, unions, mothers-in-law literary agents, psychiatry and power tools. They are treatises on how to deal with duplicity; how to create duplicity, where Darwin and Machiavelli got it wrong—and right, and the effect of the Peloponnesian wars on ’57 Chevy tailfins. They explain things like…well, what Britney Spears lyrics actually mean; why John Wayne walked that way and were Leo Fender and Les Paul space aliens bent on civil destruction?

Everything a man needs to know to survive in this post modern, post common sense, post 9-11 pre-apocalyptic world is right there on the screen.

When I read the first one it was like a secret portal of knowledge had opened up. After reading ten of them I found myself walking more upright with a new spring in my step and more fearless of what lay outside my front door. I find that nothing is a mystery to me anymore, and I have a piercing insight into all situations. All is clarity

Now, I don’t think anybody else in America reads these screeds judging from the way they voted in the last election and as screwed up as the government is. So be it. This will be our secret, just myself and you who read this blog. Let us drink from this beautiful cup of knowledge for six months. Then, we’ll all meet at a shopping mall in Nebraska. Our combined intelligence will enhance each other exponentially. Then, we’ll make our plans of conquest and by this time next year we’ll rule the world.

I can’t wait.