Sunday morning, the last morning of three at Laguna Seca, was dry. No condensation dripping inside the tent as the moisture stayed in the dense cloud cover. Conditions are perfect here at the Mission Foods, Weathertech, Laguna Seca, Louie’s Fish Fry, Little Billy’s Burpee Seed franchise, in the mall next to the JC Penney racetrack. I don’t know if I mentioned it, but Laguna Seca has nice bathrooms. The showers are hot, real flush toilets, and plenty of stalls. And you can fill out most of a story just listing the sponsors and amenities.
Plenty of potato in the parking area. These can’t all be here for the Baggers.
I didn’t feel like eating another Turkey sammie, so I burbled down to the paddock where the Bear and Chisel food stand is located. In the past this place was pretty good. Today it was tolerable. The bacon in my bacon burrito was sort of raw. The burrito shrank 33%. There was no salsa. The coffee was good. I guess I can’t complain for only $21.
Tires changed, no waiting.
You always see a guy carrying a wheel or handlebars at the races. Dunlop had at least 5 tire changing machines under a long row of tents. VP race gas had a big semi-trailer full of gas. They saw a steady flow (ha) of customers bringing 5-gallon to 50-gallon containers. Man, it would be a mess if that semi crashed.
Practice started at 9.30 a.m. today. I started out near the booze tent. These are stands that usually stay pretty empty. Practice was uneventful, but I still made an event out of it. We had party balloons, a cash bar and event T-shirts.
I got to meet Miami Herald motorcycle legend James Hegsteth at the track. Later we slept together. I mean at the same camp spot. He had his own tent.
Speaking of T-shirts I was going to buy a Moto America T-shirt but the things were $50! I told the chick selling the shirts it was too much. She said I could save some money as they had a special deal going on: if I spent $100 I could get two T-shirts. It’s a racket, like Girl Scout cookies. Man, I’m on Socialist Security! I can’t blow $50 on a damn T-shirt! Years ago, I rode my VT500 from San Diego to Laguna Seca to watch a Moto GP. When I found out the entry ticket was $45, I turned around and rode back to San Diego. That shows you how committed I am at the $50 level.
And another thing: the big glass building where you can watch Turn 3 wanted $45 just to enter. You still had to pay for any drinks. WTF Moto America? What is it with the $50 thing? Ah, but the races were good. I think first place in the Baggers class paid $50.
Moto-idol John Burns kept my brain from turning to mush. He works for the AMA magazine now so go join to read his stuff.
I met my childhood hero Sir John Burns at the track. We hung out a bit and were thrown out of the VIP lounge above the front straight. I can see them not letting me in, but Burns is moto royalty. Big mistake. You don’t want Burns pissed off at you.
The racers raced and the show ended around 4:30. That was a good time to call it. Around 5:30 cops started patrolling the camp sites. My emotions were mixed: on the one hand I liked that the cops were out there protecting us, on the other I knew if I got one on a bad day, I might get shot.
But I digress…the racing (remember racing?) was pretty good all weekend. JD Beach, one of my favorite riders since Tim Hawks, told me to keep an eye on him and he won both the Superbike races.
Baggers at full lean. Don’t hate on Baggers until you’ve wobbled a mile in their shoes.
The Baggers put on a good show with lots of wiggling and sliding. These bike have to be ridden, not programmed. I’ll put up with the overpriced stuff; nobody twisted my arm to buy a T-shirt. Moto America’s event at Laguna Seca was a success in my book, a book not known for successes.
Now I’m bedded down one last time. The weather is spectacular. It’s cool, almost no breeze, just wonderful. Tomorrow I’ll break camp and start the long journey back to God’s country: New Mexico.
Andy Rooney, the proto-crank from 60 Minutes, back when 60 minutes was an hour, not a lap dog, said something important. I’m sure I’m messing it up, but he said you never know when your last time doing a thing will be done. His example was sledding in the winter. It was a rite, a ritual, a flim-flammy go-round: he did it every year without fail. Each year he’d sled down the hill but one year he was too tired or busy. Maybe he got mature. He didn’t go up the hill that year. And then he didn’t do it again. And again. He fell out of the habit, see? After a while he couldn’t remember why he went sledding at all.
You don’t often see the Very Large Array grouped up tight like this. Must be shooting wide angle stuff.
I went to the motorcycle races at Laguna Seca because if I don’t, one day I won’t remember why I went to motorcycle races. And there are good reasons to go even if it’s a pain in the butt. This year I went for Moto America races but any sort of motorcycle racing will do.
It was 116 degrees when I pulled into Needles, California on the first night. The heat didn’t let up; it was still over 100 into the wee hours. I know this because I check on the bike every few hours, this goes on through the night. It’s my issue, it’s not like I suspect the good citizens of Needles or something. It’s not like Barstow.
Luxury living.
The next evening I made Laguna Seca, it was kind of cold. Two long days on the road, a stiff sea breeze sliced through the Laguna Seca campgrounds and I almost put on long pants. After my initial set up, I laid down inside the tent and got sleeping-bag warm. It was nice. I have a really nice tent set up now. Plenty of room, a cot, a nightstand, ice chest full of food and drinks, even a battery to charge my phone.
Cool, damp weather pushed inland, making camp kind of nippy.
Photons from Salinas, 10 miles away blast through the thin membrane of my tent, glamorous as it is. It’s 11:40 p.m. and the wind has eased. This is John Steinbeck’s old stomping grounds. Not my tent exactly but the general area. Most likely Steinbeck was also hit by photons from Salinas at some point in his life. Maybe not the same photons but Quantum Entanglement says it might have been one just like it, or maybe the mirror image, a reverse spin. Mine look like they are spinning clockwise so Steinbeck’s were probably going counterclockwise.
Lights from Salinas, 10 miles away, frame the porta-potties.
I have to take a leak.
A glowing doughnut of far-away lights surrounds me on the east and southwest. Houses and businesses, overhead a clear, cloudless sky full of stars. All these damn photons. My tent is so roomy I actually have enough space to reel without bumping into anything.
My internet buddy Hesketh stopped by earlier and tossed his tent on the ground. He’s in there napping now, blocking stray photons that might have gotten to me. I hear generators running. It sounds like the noise is coming from the paddock direction. Faintly, it’s not annoying because I’m deaf so you know other people can hear the generator.
Friday is set up camp and the riders are testing. When I first got here, the Baggers were stuttering on the rev limiter going up the hill to the corkscrew. It sounds like they hit the limiter at pretty low RPM’s. Maybe 7000? Then the modern bikes were out. I was tossing gear into my luxury, tent-majal as they went past at some crazy engine speed. A piercing screech that was sort of annoying after the flat roar of the Baggers. At first, I thought the Baggers racing was a gimmick. It still is a gimmick, but I give it my blessing now. I’m sure Moto America was worried about how I would receive the series.
The main thing is I made it to the top of the hill one more time. I’ve seen it all, but I haven’t seen all of it, my brothers.
Foggy and cold in the morning. I broke down and bought a burrito from the Flag and Wicket down in the paddock. Everything was soaking wet and I didn’t feel like making food. The Rag and Basket has good burritos and they are nearly the same price as a Quart-o-Grease from McDingies.
The Rag and Moose down in the paddock has good eats for not too much money.
I don’t think they can run in the wet fog but the rider’s meeting is on. We will see if they wait a bit.
The trials sections were mostly tight corners in uneven terrainThis never happened historically but I’m letting it go.
When you’re at the track you’ll need to be somewhat self sufficient as the only place nearby is the Toro restaurant and they close early. There a little food store towards Salinas but before the Toro where you can get stuff. Forget going west to Monterey, it’s sort of touristy and unless you’re going to the Aquarium or cannery row it’s a food desert. It could be that I don’t know where to look.
I think it will be a short day today. The fog is still thick, if a bike went off the course you’d never know it.
Foggy conditions delayed the racing for a bit. AHRMA still managed to run a full slate
I wandered over to the trials sections and they were ok, the fog doesn’t bother trials riders as they only need to see a few feet ahead. There was a triple log obstacle that I saw only one guy on a TY175 clear. Everyone else dabbed. The trials was held down in a little valley and the sections led a short way up the sides. Very tight turns and soft sand caught out many competitors.
Two old codgers on two old bikes. Still flogging. Fulton and Roper.
Back on the track the fog cleared and AHRMA ran 14 more multi-class races. You get your money’s worth for sure.
I’ve decided to let the whole historic thing go. What AHRMA really does is provide sanctioned races for orphan motorcycles, both new and old. Even 160-175 Honda twins.
Sunday the campground empties out and the squirrels take over. You’ll need to keep that tent closed or they’ll rob you blind. I like the Sunday night, it’s quiet and you get to be alone for a few hours.
The wind never let up the entire day and I got sort of tired watching so many races. It was dry and around race 12 I decided to load Godzilla in the truck before the plastic bed liner got slippery with dew.
All in, I’ve been here four days and it’s time to break camp and get back home. I highly recommend attending the AHRMA either as a spectator or a competitor. Just bring plenty of water and any food you might like to eat.
I’ll be back next year. Maybe bring the RD350 to see how it runs at sea level.
I’m in no rush to leave the tent this morning. The wind blew all night long and is still blowing hard. It’s cold and damp. Canvas pops and snaps, the tent inflates and deflates as if it is a breathing thing. I’ll have a second cup of coffee.
Having coffee in a hurricane.
The vintage motocross races at Laguna Seca are situated over the hill, towards the north. It’s a natural terrain course just like the tracks these vintage motorcycles ran on way back when. No manufactured hazards like triples or whoops. Any whoops on this track are made by churning knobbies. So of course I love it.
Laguna has more CZs in one place than I’ve ever seen. A bunch of Honda Elsinores and BSA 4-strokes populate the area. Less popular are Yamahas, Kawasakis and Suzukis.
The BSAs were out in force. One of the few 4-strokes that could compete with the 2-strokers…if you had Banks riding it.
Four Elsinore 125s put on a hell of a show. They were swapping the lead back and forth, passing three bikes in a corner only to be re-passed the next corner. It was good, handlebar banging action. I’m going back for more today.
The motocross crowd is a bit looser than the road racers. There is a yellow rope denoting the track that you are not supposed to cross. Nobody pays attention and spectators walk rigs up to the edge of the course to yell encouragement at their buddies.
Just a few of the motocross classes. Something for experts to beginners.
One guy had a train horn attached to a battery powered compressor and when the bikes were stuffed into the corner he would blast the horn inches from the rider’s ears. You don’t get that sort of fun on the pavement over the hill.
Unlike some of the road race bikes, the motocross bikes are historically accurate. These are the bikes that actually raced back then and except for razor sharp fresh knobbies they are in a slightly beat condition.
There are a few 100-point restorations racing but those guys take it easy around the track. The Sunday riders got the same encouragement and horn as the top racers.
Tidy Penton, these were the original KTMs and beautiful bikes. The cylinders were huge square things.
In the evening I hear live music drifting in on the soaking wind, a two stroke bike circles camp and people chatter, sounding like they are right next door. I have to remind myself not to be old. Sure, I want to got to bed at 8:00 p.m. but nobody else does.
Back to the road race side of things. AHRMA is always expanding the definition of historic and they even have classes for modern motorcycles. These classes are well stocked because the bikes are easy to get and keep running. I’d say more than half the field were riding new-ish motorcycles. Our old buddies Walt Fulton and Dave Roper put in another fine showing but I kind of lost them in the multi-class race they were in. So maybe they didn’t do fine.
I’m really enjoying how well Godzilla is running down at sea level. The bike has tons of grunt and runs so smooth with the oxygen levels. Probably the humidity helps also.
I’m off to watch some racing. It’s still windy but I can’t sit in the tent all day. The neighbors will start talking about the weird old man next door.
Man I slept good last night. The combination of the new cot, air mattress and mummy bag worked to perfection. Add in the cool moist Monterey weather and the loudspeaker’s 8:15 call for a rider’s meeting was the first thing I heard. I’ve really got this camping thing down. With the added capacity of the Toyota truck I was able to bring along a few luxury items. Like a chair and an ice chest.
These Can Ams had huge cylinder fins.Can Ams also had a somewhat unusual disc valve with a long intake runner leading to a carb in the back of the engine next to your left foot.A bike I never knew about, the AMMEX motocross bike.A 1930s Husqvarna. Not much different than my 2008 version.
Unlike last year, there are no food trucks in the paddock, only the Bear and Shank which has some pretty good food at reasonable (for California) prices. The ice chest frees me of food anxiety, I’ve got plenty for the weekend.
My enduro riding buddy, Gilroy Larry, stopped by with his clean TY250 Yamaha trials bike. We rode over to the trials area but it was more secure than last year. There’s also a sweet, old-style motocross track where a guy can race his old bike without spending 95% of his time in the air. (Note to Supercross: less hang time and more racing!)
I still have one of these in boxes. It’s a C110 Honda 50. 4-speed with hand clutch and a pushrod engine. When mine ran it did around 45 miles per hour.Unusual rear wheel on a Mule flat track style bike.I had one of these also. This is a one-owner, dad’s old bike.Since we are apolitical here on ExNotes I know Berk will love this Suzuki 100.A beautiful 500 Tiger for not much money.It’s a good thing I don’t have $4500 laying around or i’d buy the Triumph.
There are entirely too damn many four-strokes out here. My era of motorcycle racing was dominated by two strokes both on the pavement and in the dirt. Flat track was the only place four-strokes were competitive and that was by favorable rules. To me, a buzzing stroker is the sound of speed.
Bikes are warming up on Laguna’s interior roads. You’ll see a full on road racer cruise by the camp if you wake up early.
The same dense air that’s makes it so easy to sleep has Godzilla running fabulously. The grunt is amazing and the smooth, steady beat makes me want to move here rather than tune for my 6000-foot elevation.
Yesterday we had no fog and the picnic table was soaking wet in the morning. This morning diaphanous clots of fog are blowing past like smoke from a fire and the picnic table is bone dry. Listen, I don’t like using diaphanous any more than you like reading it. I guess should have paid more attention in meteorology class.
There was a vintage bike show at the track. The show had a pretty decent turnout. Maybe 50 bikes showed up. I owned several of the models represented.
Nice old flathead Beemer.The evolution of Maico crankcases Part 1: 1970s.The evolution of Maico crankcases Part 2: The 1980s.
It’s hard to beat looking at old CanAm motorcycles while out on the track vintage bikes are racing by at full song.
Rookie mistake: leaving your chair outside at night. The dew is heavy at Laguna Seca and my campsite is shaded from the early morning sun.
I love the pipes on this Turnip. Not likely to drag in corners!
I’ll walk around the pits instead. No food trucks yet and the Bear + Flag doesn’t open very early. Luckily I brought along some Cafe Bustello instant.
Tech inspection. The lines were long which is a good thing for AHRMA (America Historic Racing Motorcycle Association).Triple tracker wandered into pavement world.175 Bridgestone twin. The terror of the track back in the day. Hondas didn’t even try.VP race fuel on site. Only a few bucks more that the 86/corn squeezed crap you buy on the street.Mono framed side car. Very thin aluminum. I’m shocked it doesn’t crack.Heavy side car contingent at this year’s races.
The crowd in the pit area seems to be as large as it was last year with even more Honda 160-175 twins. These things are like cockroaches while the actual bikes that raced in the 1960’s/1970’s are thin on the ground. I guess those Hondas survived because no one raced them.
Luxury accommodations at Site 110.
Even if you don’t care for motorcycles Laguna Seca is a great place to camp. I have Site 110. The trees have grown a bit and I’m worried about ground squirrels breaking into my tent and stealing my food.
There are lots on fairly modern bikes, too. At least they are modern to me; they are probably 25 years old.
I made the mistake riding into Monterey. Lots of traffic. The only restaurant open was a McDonald’s. An older lady was buying a single cigarette from a guy who was out by the parking lot. I could see the bay from McDonald’s. Inside, there was no one to take your order. Electronic kiosks were set up and you entered your order then paid at the kiosk. There were about 5 people waiting, glancing down at the bits of paper the kiosk spit out. No one was getting food. McDonald’s food is not good enough to go through the hassle, so I left.
Heading back towards the track on Highway 68 the traffic came to a halt. It took me about an hour to go 4 miles. My old Yamaha 360 did not care for this kind of treatment. Forget going anywhere from 3:00 p.m. until 7:00 p.m. In the evening I sat and watched the long line of motor homes making their way to the paddock. It was fun…to me.
Today is race school and practice. Tomorrow (Saturday) the racing starts in earnest.
Sent from my iPhone
That BSA at the top of this blog was not racing. I included it for Hack.
After riding through the stifling heat of Utah, Nevada and central California the cold, foggy mists of the Monterey Peninsula penetrated my mesh jacket and I shivered. It was wonderful to be cold and it was wonderful to be at Laguna Seca’s Weather Tech Raceway. This wasn’t my first visit to Laguna Seca but it was my first time inside the track. Years ago I rode up from San Diego back when Laguna Seca was a date on the world championship calendar. Today, Austin’s COTA circuit has usurped that role in America but Laguna Seca is still way prettier.
Two strokes ruled Moto GP racing in that era and when I pulled up to the entrance gate the $50 ticket price almost gave me a stroke. I was earning $3.50 an hour working on boats and $50 was a ton of money. I figured the hell with it and went to the Monterey Bay Aquarium instead. Oddly enough, the entry fee for AHRMA’s Motofest vintage racing was still 50 dollars some 40 years on. This time I paid for a ticket because riding from La Luz, New Mexico is a long way to go for nothing.
Motels around Monterey are sort of expensive. Your best deal is the 4-day camping pass at the track. I bought a reserved campsite because I wasn’t sure how things worked inside. Turns out there were plenty of campsites available for this event. I had site 110A, which gave me a view of turn 5 in one direction and a view of the bikes going up Rahal hill to the Corkscrew in the other direction.
Site A-110: it’s a good place to spend the weekend.
Plenty of portable toilets were sprinkled around the venue and hot showers were available in the more substantial structures. All the faucets were marked non-potable so bring plenty of water. I had to buy those little bottled waters in the paddock at $3 a bottle. The ground at my site was pretty hard so I never got my flimsy aluminum tent pegs to penetrate. Luckily my site had an old steel spike that someone left behind. I drove the spike into the hard ground on the windward side, tied the tent to the spike and used my gear to hold the other three corners down. The hydraulic jack came in handy as a hammer.
I say the ground was hard but apparently the hundreds of ground squirrels had no problem burrowing holes every 15 feet. The squirrels are all over the place at Weather Tech. I’m surprised that an aged vintage motorcycle racer hasn’t fallen in a squirrel hole and broken a leg. I’ve heard that when they get up in years it’s best to shoot them rather than let them suffer.
Me and Milich, he’s tall with a lot of drag but still wins. You can visit Milich’s websites at http://guzzipower.com/ and https://www.ducpower.com/.Thad Wolf’s Suzuki. I never did find Wolff, he must have known I was looking for him.
Thursday was practice all day. The bikes were sent out in groups with staggered starts. There are a lot of classes in AHRMA, like dozens, to keep track of but I mostly just listened for two-strokes. AHRMA’s Motofest had a sort of mini Motorcyclist magazine reunion vibe. The Kevin Hipp racing family was there along with Thad Wolff and Ed Milich. Go-Go Gulbransen, whose name the announcer never tired of uttering was there also. Go-Go was the guy who tested the upper limits of new sport bikes for Motorcyclist magazine. All these guys live and breathe motorcycles and it’s the passion you can’t fake that made them such good journalists.
This might be a real S2 Kawasaki production racer. Very few were built. You had to know somebody.
Vintage racing today looks a bit different from when the motorcycles were current models. Hondas seem to dominate. The 160cc slopers, 175 twins and 350 twins were much faster than I remember them. In fact, I don’t remember them racing at all. I assume it’s due to better oils and electronic ignition systems, because in the old days the small bore grids were mostly Yamahas with a few Suzukis and Kawasakis. If there was a Honda racing it was usually sputtering at the tail end of the pack and the rider was wearing construction boots and welding leathers. Of course, things were different at the GP/factory level where Honda did all right for itself considering the handicap it was working under. It helps to have Mike Hailwood and Freddie Spenser on your team.
A brace of H2s these sounded good when they pulled in.Jewel-like T500cc twin Suzuki. This was a revolutionary bike when it came out. Some people thought you couldn’t go this big without heating problems. Another bike I want to own one day.Zoomie RD 350 with DG sunburst heads. Going for that squish band action.A pile of Ossas. These are Stilettos; I want a Pioneer.Thames van. I imagine it’s British.Stretched Honda Mini Trail with custom Grom-based block. 350cc, tops out around 100 miles per hour. I asked the kid if it was dangerous. He said he lived in Oakland, so it was the least dangerous thing he did.
After setting up camp I walked all over Laguna Seca: I needed the exercise after sitting on the ZRX1100 for five long days. To get to Monterey I took the long way around, up through Colorado to Grand Junction then across Utah and Nevada to California. I tried to ride Highway 120 through Yosemite Park but the road was closed. I detoured north from Lee Vining to Highway 108 and was rewarded with one of the world’s great motorcycle roads. Anyway, from my campsite to the paddock was only a 15-minute walk. Less if you didn’t tangle with a ground squirrel.
Vintage racing is all about the paddock. The racing, while serious, is almost secondary to checking out the old race bikes. The paddock is where the food is, where the beer is and where the old motorcycles are. Most of the spectators hang out in the paddock area. I wandered around for hours looking at motorcycles. I ate a turkey sandwich and drank a beer that was like 28 dollars but we need to support the moneymaking aspect of Laguna Seca or it’ll become luxury housing.
Turn 4 action.Yamaha RD400 scooting right along.
Saturday and Sunday were race days. I hung out with Motorcyclist Magazine alumni Ed Milich for a bit. Ed has an admirable cost per win philosophy in that he expends just enough effort to get first place and no more. His bikes look like hell but they run great. Paint don’t win races, says Ed. On the track he never seems to be trying hard, the gap between him and second place grew larger as if by magic. Ed won every race he entered (four) I did some math and determined that Ed spends around $4.37 per win. Hipp won his races also. Hipp’s bikes are those fast Honda 350s and they look like show bikes. Hipp’s wins probably cost more than Milich’s, but they still count.
Montessssa on the trials course.
Sunday morning I went over to the trials section. Set in gullies and on the sides of hills, trials riding never looks too hard until you try it. Trials events at the level Laguna Seca puts on have the advantage of being relatively safe as the speeds are very low and you can’t fall very far. This isn’t the crazy stadium trials you watch on YouTube but it suits the old motorcycles participating. I might try the trials on Godzilla next time I go to Laguna.
The legend Dave Roper. I think he’s still the only American to win at the Isle of Man races.Walt Fulton fetteling his XR750.
With such wildly different motorcycles it’s hard to compare rider skill. Except when it comes to Dave Roper: Roper, who resembles a stick of beef jerky with a cotton ball stuck on one end, was smooth and fast on any bike he rode. Roper and Walt Fulton, with a combined 300 years of racing experience, put on quite a show with their matching H-D branded, Aermacchi Sprints. There was a vintage motocross at Laguna Seca but it ran concurrent with some other races so I missed it. You really need to be two people to see all the action at AHRMA’s Vintage Motofest.
Nice, tank shift flattie. This bike sounded good on the track, very low rpm drone.
It was nice to have the campsite for Sunday night; I didn’t have to rush to pack and head out into the unforgiving freeways of California in the late afternoon. Wherever I ride the ZRX1100 it attracts attention. I’ve had people take selfie photographs standing next to the bike, I get asked what year it is almost every ride. The thing is bone stock. Laguna Seca was no different, the bike garnered a steady stream of complements from my camp neighbors. I must look hard up because the guy camping across from me handed me 40 dollars and said I had dropped it. I think he was trying to be nice to a vagabond. Normally I would have taken it but I’m trying to become a better person and told the guy it wasn’t mine.
Californians and Ex-Californians like to bitch about their state, but the damn place is beautiful. California has it all from the beaches to the mountains to the desert and all types of terrain in between. With straight roads crowded by farm equipment, the central valley (also known as The Breadbasket of America) was like the Tail of the Dragon for my nose. Sweet manure, grassy hay, dust and soil, the smells kept swapping back and forth giving my nasal passages whiplash. If it wasn’t so expensive, I’d live in California again but my total running costs at Tinfiny Ranch are less than the annual taxes on any house I could afford there. The Californians I met were universally friendly and interesting to talk to, we would start up a conversation like we had known each other for years and had just spoken last Thursday.
I’ll go to AHRMA’s Monterey bash again. It’s closer than Daytona for me and with the camping, about the same cost. I give the event high marks for value. You really get your 50 dollars worth with AHRMA.
