Tuesday, July 18, 2017

Colorado Hill Climbing

Round number three of the Colorado Hill Climb Association. Only four motorcycles entered. If only I could convey how fun this kind of racing is. I can't. It is weird misfit heavy horsepower car stuff and maybe that is why nobody shows up with a bike. Maybe Hill Climb racing is only thought to be drag racing with a long ass swing arm. Maybe proper Hill Climb racing needs a better name. Maybe I like it so much because nobody gets it. Flattrack/Dirt track everybody seems to get and I don't know why but I have had zero interest in racing on the dirt ovals for some time now. Maybe I can put into words for some to understand why I like the weird misfit easy going Hill Climbing.
I cut some grooves in some customers old take off tire, load the van and stock up on beer on my way out of the hot and overcrowded city. A few hours into the mountains and it is raining, cold, and flat out fucking beautiful tits. I unload and set up pits and get on my XR to go pre run the course. After getting to the finish line I pass through an active mine and keep going up on some old mining roads. I get lost. I take the beer out of my pocket and drink taking turns holding it with my cold and numb hands. 
Cuddled in my 50 year old down Northface mummy bag in the van drifting off to a deep pre-race slumber to the pitter patter of mother nature watering the race track. At dawn's crack I emerge from my cocoon enough to start the coffee a perculating. After a few hours it is my turn for one of four saturday practice runs. The awaiting has left me anxious to hammer on the throttle and not wast any entry speed into the densely treed hair pin corners. Full bar lock loam sliding. 5th gear needle threading. Adrenaline. In the pit I drop a few jet sizes. On the next run I drop a few seconds and break the course record I set three years ago. Sardine sandwich and a few more seconds dropped on a few more runs. Whiskey, spam, and another night of my van's roof drumming out the sounds of hero dirt perfect traction. Sunday is the day of worship, two race runs with a weird veteran decision to sit out the over saturated second run out of it not being necessary for the win. Perhaps age is setting in. Could be wisdom. Could be bullshit. 40 applauding racecar  drivers can't be all that wrong.

I'm going off the rails on a crazy train

Wednesday, July 12, 2017

9 lives dumped from phone

The wind machine sooths the grind. We all need an ultra sonic spa. Today's work bench brought to you by Olympia. It is the water.

New race bike motor. Just you wait and see. VMX TT500 stock stomper Dick Mann man

Paint booth

Project gonna go fast. Long live #217. Hot Carl's new colors brought to you by Krylon

The golden ticket

I am not here for a long time. I am here for a good time

Jeff Stanton

 Let'g get a shotgun and kill Barney

Heinz- 57 drawers 

Thursday, July 6, 2017


You! Yes you! get yourself a copy of issue #31 (13 backwards!)
Email motorcychomag@gmail.com today! It has a nice tale I wrote about love, life, and DIRTBIKING in it.

Monday, July 3, 2017

Pikes Peak 2017

It is over. I have been home one week and acclimated back to normal society the best I can. It was one hell of a ride. Really, what can I say? It was the most mentally tough thing I have ever done. Not so much the race but keeping it together mentally. The first time I saw the bike in Spain and how far behind schedule it was at becoming a safe bike to ride on the mountain I thought long and hard about calling it off. I thought long and hard about calling it off all race week but I reckon deep inside I knew I would give it my best despite knowing there was a good chance the bike would run out of gas before finishing. For this race, giving it my best was not pushing to the limits of the bike but pushing hard enough to make a decent finish but most importantly not pushing so hard that if something went wrong on the bike (like it did) that I would have enough room between me and the edge. Despite countless setbacks and many mental hurtles we ended the race week all wearing a smile. With a class win and 4th overall motorcycle behind the factory supported boys and tried, tested and true bikes I am very happy with how it turned out, be it just by the skin of our teeth. Read all about it in the new Sideburn out very soon.
A big thanks to all that have helped support me in so many different ways. As always racing is teaching me and the learning is what I crave. And the dirty hot nasty speed.

Sunday, June 18, 2017

One week until race day

Early mornings, late nights, long days. Race week starts tomorrow. The mystical moment before the sun cracks it's breath of brilliance. Hands on deck. Sails are catching the wind rolling off our wheels. ahoy!

Monday, June 12, 2017

Confessions, reflections, and dreams

There are things in my head that I can not even begin to put into words. Saturday I found my self once again in my Ronin race leather suite passing the corner where Carl lost his life. The last time I went by was three days after his crash and while I was on my way to a 2nd place overall finish. In the two years that have passed things have changed. Out of respect for my friends and family I have acquired a new fear for the mountain. Also, the road between Carl’s corner and the finish line had become much more bumpy. My bike was blitzing the tarmac humps in the same way a motocross bike skims a whoop-de-do section. These cold hard bumps had solid frozen water in-between them. My bike had a stiff and well set up for smooth as glass race track rear Ohlins shock. The front forks however were the stock Suzuki SV units with no damping adjustment, marshmellows for springs and what felt like jello for fork oil. The day before I removed the proper Inverted GSXR forks that complemented the rear Ohlins as per request for the Pike Peak committee’s rule of only allowing bikes equipped with OEM one piece handlbars. Their attempt at safety. The Thursday before I found out that UPS had had an “error” in shipping our special Bottpower race bike and it would not arrive in time to practice on. So, I called up the director of the motorcycle racing who would probably like to never see or hear form me again, and I asked him for permission to practice on my SV instead of the high profile Bottpower. He granted me the favor and there I was on the mountain at speed on my underpowered little Suzuki with shit for front suspension and DOT race tires I had never used before. On my second run up I crossed the double yellow with more lean than I should have and lost the front. It was good that it was just a slow tight hairpin corner and I never let go of the bars. My confidence however was gone. Later in the morning as the snow crystals blew across the road making small drifts I again totally lost the front but at a much faster speed I was able to save the bike from what would have been a bad crash. I am addicted to danger and that danger is the road. I must respect. Coming home from these mornings leaves a huge distance between me and the other people in my life. I want to tell them how much fun I just had but all they hear is how close I came to the edge. I want to share my experience but the only people who can even begin to understand are other self involved maniacs. In my head is a clumpy soup of pride and shame. It is a recipe of my own concoction that I am always cooking faster than I can eat. Hopefully today will see the delivery of the Bottpower and I can soon share a tasty feast of glory.

Tuesday, June 6, 2017

Living the dream

I must have some of the best luck! Or maybe it is just the universe balancing out for all the time I spent in hand cuffs before DIRTBIKES saved my life. Anyhoo last Wednesday my buddy Campo who runs Meta magazine came in my shop and said he could get me a spot in the 125 dream race at Thundervalley. I am not worthy but my 2003 Amsoil Factory Connection Chris Gosselaar former pro number 39 bike knows a pro prepped track. I was planning on taking it easy before pikes peak to not risk injury. That plan fucked right off. Saturday found me in the middle of a full 40 bike gate in the middle of a national motocross. The sound of 40 125 two strokes had me shredding into the first corner with both raging goose bumps and a big ol' pre-mix boner. Thanks to Aaron Sauerbrey for the pictures!

Friday, June 2, 2017


I was told Friday that I would fly out Monday to Spain to test the bike. I spent Saturday and Sunday racing the Temple Canyon Hillclimb some 3 hrs south of home. I won and set a new motorcycle course record and had a shit ton of fun doing it. I got home late Sunday night just in time to let the dogs out and have them get sprayed by a skunk. I packed my bag and wished my wife the best of luck with giving the dogs a bath. After three planes and many hours I arrived in Spain where Bottpower David picked me up at the Valencia airport and we went straight to the shop where the bike awaited me. We spent several hours securing large bundles of excess wire spaghetti piles with zip ties and duct tape. Not exactly what I was expecting. At the local Kart track that afternoon I got to spin some laps on the beast and was happy with how it handled. The next two days I spent with the bike up on a lift back at the shop, I diagnosed and fixed a charging system failure and did my best to tidy up some of the last minute stuff and give all the fasteners the touch of a wrench. We then drove 3hrs to Aragon home of Motorland, the most amazing track I have ever seen let alone ride. It has been home to Moto GP! The next two days we sorted out many issues. I did my best to keep positive and keep progressing with the bike. It is a very capable bike for pikes peak and I should have it up on my lift at my shop next week for some final messaging love. We will do some more testing and a track day before heading up to the mountain next weekend for the early practice weekend. With the team of friends and support we have I am confident we will have the bike operating in top form and I will gain next level confidence allowing us success.

Hill Climb - a lesson in time from visualhybrid on Vimeo.

Thursday, May 18, 2017

She's A Runner!

Pikes Peak tugs at emotions in many ways. One of the many mental stresses for the last three years for me has been depending on other people. Before it was only me. When somebody says that they are building a super machine that they want me to ride, I feel completely honored and thankful for such opportunity. Though I hope for the best I expect the worst. Because I know how hard it is to build a race bike from scratch I know that it may never come together in time with such exotic and high tech machinery such as Ronin and Bottpower. Though I got to do some early testing on a stock Ronin the Race bike was a whole different beast and it was not ready to ride until practice on the mountain. When I prepared a Multistrada for Paul last year I was the one being depended on to get things sorted in time and even with a mostly stock bike it was a stress on my part.  Add to it the race organizers selection of the limited field of racers and my uncertain standings with the organization. It was a huge relief to have my entry accepted this year. This year I am in store to race a special bike built to conquer the mountain from the ground up by world class Moto2 engineer. To say I have been a bit eager is like to say my dog likes to fetch a ball. With less than a month to go until first practice on the mountain I have been informed by David with Bottpower that the bike completed it's first test without issue. A former world superbike racer did the shaking down. I soak this all in as I type this. I am to fly over to Spain next week to test the bike myself. I am totally and completely tickled pink to purple. Insert goofy, grinning, shitting pants emoji here.

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

The Wolf will shred again.

I met Carl at the 2013 Pikes Peak race to the clouds. We hit it off. He was getting into dirtbikes and looking to me for help. I was getting into tarmac racing and looking to him for help. In 2014 he bought a ZX10 and raced it up the hill finishing in the same amount of minutes and seconds as me. I don't remember the time but I do remember having a real good time that year. He was always a lot of fun to be around. He inspired me to buy an old SV650 to turn into a track bike and he was my instructor for my MRA licensing school. In my first race I was doing nose wheelies into turn 1 and Carl, his wife Lacy, and his brother Chris all told me that they would hate to see what I could do on a real race bike. I have done my best to transform the little SV into a proper bike but it will always be a sub hundred pony power pusher. But it does make some mother fuckers angry in the corners. Any how, I am tired of hearing people tell me that "I'd hate to see what you could do on a real bike." So I am buying the late great Hot Carl's ZX10 from Lacy. I want to put together a program next year to travel to new tracks and be a superbiker and I am going to give it everything I got.
Thank you Carl.

Friday, May 5, 2017

How Instagram has instantly instilled insecurity in in-sequentially inumerable inadauquite enormouse amount of shitty camera photos:

6 mile chocolate cake road race track on knobblies.

I have been riding as much as I can.

Gary built me a sexy exhaust. Gary is cool.

I bought a Goldwing 1500. Oh yes I did.

My work bench is my canvas.

The good, the bad, and the ugly.

I am building myself a new chopper. Because I am not sensible, smart, or able to come to grips with the standards of a society that sells smart cycle brain washing machines. Mikey builds me springer parts. Mikey is cool.

Gary builds himself a motorcycle. Gary is cool. Upside down stickers and all.

My happy place. Little Goose. Chris Gosselaar's 2003 (He finished 5th in the outdoors that year) Factory Connection CR125.
On the pipe.