Travis used to write a somewhat monthly column for Motocross magazine, Racer X. Here are some plain text archives. Travis covers a range of topics such as his season goals, what he has been doing and what he thinks about certain issues.
Content is that of Racer X.
January 2002
Taking a month off from racing is more painful for me than the injuries that got me here. I don’t know how families live without motocross. The weekends are relegated to yard work and monotonous family gatherings. To think that people actually look forward to weekends when racing isn’t involved is beyond my grasp.
While I was hurt I went to my first (and sure to be my last) school dance with my friend Nicole. She was great company, but … “Long live motorcycles!” and “Hi, is the supercross season not here yet?” is about all I have to say about school dances.
Bolting away from my house to the nearest supercross track (halfway across the country in Oklahoma City), I started riding again about three weeks before the U.S. Open in Las Vegas. I hired one of my childhood heroes, Guy “Airtime” Cooper, to build tracks for me this winter. Cooperland, which is right outside of Stillwater, is back in full swing with a five-minute-long tabletop track, a SX track, a corner track, a trials course, mountain bike trails and a few hare scrambles courses, not to mention Cooperland Raceway and a MX Park called “The 500,” which are both within a 10-minute drive. Robbie Reynard lives 45 minutes down the road, and he has a great supercross and outdoor track, not to mention mountain bike trails and challenging road biking areas.
For any of you who are wondering if Coop still goes big, fear not – he puts me and all of the locals (Kenny Bartram, Chase Reed, Robbie Reynard) to shame by jumping everything first and throwing Carmichael-like whips off jumps that scare the heck out of even me. In the two weeks I stayed at Cooper’s I went through more than 35 gallons of race fuel and felt confident coming into the U.S. Open.
My US Open Objectives:
1. Get at least one holeshot.
2. Finish both nights without crashing.
I failed both of my goals. In typical form, I crashed myself out while running in fourth on Friday and second on Saturday. So what did I learn from the race? Carmichael, Windham and McGrath were faster than I was, Ferry was more consistent, and Larocco was in better shape. Morale in the Suzuki pits was low after that second night in Vegas, but now I have a starting point. By the Daytona SX this year I want to be a threat to win some 250cc main events.
Testing has gone phenomenally, and Kevin Windham has been an amazing asset in helping me get my bike set up well for next year. Right now I am on a flight home from Australia, where I again crashed myself out of a win, this time in Sydney. Tomorrow I start sky-dive training for the opening of a motocross film called Global Addiction, backed by Ogio. It has the highest budget and sickest stunts ever attempted. I am going to hit a ramp at the edge of a 2,000-foot deep canyon. The goal will be to pull as many flips as possible before bailing out. The Ogio company has five sand rails that go from 0-60 faster than a Dodge Viper, and we get to ride them on the dunes. We’re also putting a ramp in the middle of a lake that we have to hydroplane across before hitting the ramp and flipping into the water. I can’t wait!
My pace does slow down slightly as I return home (for the first time since mid-September) for five days. Cramming for a college final (which I have to take a month early) and eating turkey for Thanksgiving will fill these days. The day after Thanksgiving I’m off again.
Alpinestars has given me the opportunity to drive a world cup rally car in Europe. The entire month of December is dedicating to training with my coach Gary Bailey and teammate Branden Jesseman. Until then I am going to try not to give Roger DeCoster or Mel Harris a heart attack!
God Bless America!
March 2002
Last month I flipped an RM250 into the Grand Canyon. That leap rivalled the greatest moments I’ve ever experienced in our sport. Leaving the jump site that day, it was apparent to me that there was nothing in the world (apart from winning a 250cc SX championship) that could even come close… Boy I was wrong!
Turns out that Alpinestars is more than just a small boot company. As a matter of fact, Alpinestars is a high-profile, multi-million-dollar corporation that sponsors everyone from Formula 1 drivers in Europe to cricket players in Australia. Somewhere in that range they sponsor newly-crowned World Rally Champion Richard Burns, as well as the remainder of team Subaru. Gabriele, the president of Alpinestars, invited me to watch the final round of the WRC, go through a rall school and take a rally car for a test drive. A few weeks later, Malcolm McCassy and I were on our way to merry old England.
Watching the rally was a unique experience in itself. First we would drive to a stage with the Subaru team, then jump out and sprint a few miles in near-freezing temperatures and constant rain to find the most treacherous corner with the gnarliest cliff. We would make it to our final destination only seconds before the first car came sliding by at over 100 mph.
The spectators seemed to get some kind of rush by trying to stand as close as possible to the narrow, muddy, single lane roads. One of the top contenders ploughed through twelve spectators. The fans are so die-hard over there than they righted their hero’s car before attending to the scattered and broken victims. Myself and 80,000 other rally car driving wannabes ran and drove, muddy and frozen all day, from stage to stage. Rally is definitely a made-for-TV event, but I recommend being there in person at least once.
The next day Gabriele, Malcolm, a substantial part of the Subaru team and I headed to Phil Price Rally School in Wales. The sun was out for the first day since I’d arrive, but the track was still slicker than Mt. Morris on National day. Aside from tough conditions, the steering wheel was on the right (or “wrong”) side of the car, which made for left handed shifting. The car we drove was small, beat-up and rear-wheel-drive. It was really fun, but the speeds were relatively low and no one even rolled one over.
The winner out of the student drivers received a plaque as well as a ride with Phil in a much faster car. I devastated a fellow student who tests cars for a living by sliding my way to the fastest lap times of the day. Having faith in my instructor enabled me to get in the codriver’s seat without hesitation. I should have known better. I truly thought we were going to die numerous times in that brief period. Phil had the car swapping sideways with all four tires off the ground, hanging at least one wheel over the edge of every cliff for the entire “ride”. He didn’t seem to think it was a big deal, and he laughed every time I gasped for air. Much respect goes out to that lunatic.
The time finally arrived for me to drive the $750,000 world championship-winning rally car. Mark Lavell, U.S. National Rally Championship, reminded me that 0-60 on the dirt is faster than a Ferrari on pavement. He was flown out to be my designated co-driver, but Mark really didn’t want to be at the mercy of another driver. He asked how experienced I was with an eight-horsepower go-kart until I snapped the frame in half while jumping it off a loading ramp, he almost fainted. Mark wasn’t even the least bit impressed, and I fully understood! Giving a motocross racer the keys to anything valuable is very bad idea; putting someone in a fast car with a motocrosser is just plain ludicrous!
A track was laid out with tires in the middle of a slick, muddy field. Mark let me know of the dangers on the course and told me to consider that the car won’t stop sliding sideways until I apply power to the wheels. Due to the cost and potential risk of ruining the car, I was only able to drive for 10 laps. With the time restriction in mind I took off like a bat out of hell, and my National Championship co-driver instantly had a white-knuckle grip on the roll bar. The car allowed me to hold the gas pedal to the floor without using the clutch during shifts. It was raining buckets at a time, but the machine accelerated to the first corner like an F-16. Two fingers on the handbrake and we were completely sideways at 90 mph. The look of horror on the faces of every Subaru mechanic as I completed lap one was worth the trip itself and it only got better.
Sadly, my first lap in the car was by far my best. I had gained overconfidence in an amazing handling ability of the car. That, combined with the feeling of invincibility a sturdy roll bar provides, is a disaster waiting to happen.
On lap two the co-driver stopped talking and started some of the same gasp sounds that I had made the day before. We missed sliding into a stream on lap two by mere inches, then sprayed a heavy roost of mud and rock into the side of the factory Subaru semi trailer. They pulled me in to tell me that I could charge up to and away from the trailer, but not power through the middle of the corner. Promptly forgetting that advice, I entered the corner going just shy of 100 miles-per-hour. With no power pulling the car forward and out of the slide, I accidentally parallel-parked myself. The car side of the semi-rig.
At the end of the ten laps I had done $5,000 worth of damage to the car and $1,000 to the semi rig, and my co-driver shook for almost an hour after the “drive.” On the side note, the top brass at Subaru offered me a car to race at selected rounds of the U.S. Nationals Championship Rally series. Go figure.
P.S. Don’t think doe a second that I’m at all distracted from my goal of winning titles on my RM250. No one thinks I can do well this year against guys like Carmichael, McGrath, Windham and Lusk. Say it can’t be done and I usually find a way. Thanks to all my critics for the motivation! See you at the races.
May 2002
What do you consider overly-aggressive riding? When a fellow competitor knocks you down, do you say that’s racing or starts throwing punches? Everyone works so hard that it’s impossible to understand why someone knocks us down to get by. I believe you make your own luck, but many people will disagree.
There are only three ways you can be taken out after the first lap: Going too wide into a corner, getting brake-checked by someone or being landed on by a fellow rider. I believe that a rider is always in control of his destiny, no matter what situation.
The most common takeouts are caused when you leave enough room for a motorcycle to fit between you and the inside marker. It might be an inch or 20 feet, but the reality is that you left him room, and now he’s got the check, trophy girl, and points lead! No matter how much of a jerk the guy in front of you is with his brake-checks and constant lane changes, you should always have a back-up line. Following someone through any section on the track not only means no passing, it also leaves you vulnerable. Again, if you crash, it’s mostly your fault.
The final way I see to be taken out is hard to understand for most of the victims. You frustrate the living hell out of the guy behind you by turning yourself into a moving roadblock. Maybe you are just slow, riding your own race, and the moron behind you can’t pass to save his life. Either way, a frustrated person uses bad judgment and takes higher risks to make a pass. If I ever make an aggressive pass, this would be the reason. Twenty laps is a long time, but I’m not a patient person on the track. There is nothing that upsets me more that watching the leaders run away when I’m mired in the pack. When you make the guy behind you desperate, you’d best be ready for anything.
So, is this season rougher than average? Thus far in the series (going into Atlanta) I have been ejected over the berm by Ernesto Fonseca in Round 1 (he hit me so hard that a majority of the spokes were blown out of my front wheel); Roncada and I swapped paint over and over again in Round 2 (he went down while attempting to take me over the berm); I unintentionally took down the cleanest rider on the track, Nathan Ramsey, in a final-lap, desperate attempt to make the p; and Ricky Carmichael found two inches between the inside bale and myself at round six in Indianapolis (he took the lead and I finished eighth).
And that brings us up to the Mike Larocco incident at Minnesota.
June 2002
If you read my column a few issues ago about supercross not being fun, I may have left you with the wrong impression about my current mindset. Many people have approached me since reading that article. Everyone implies that I will begin winning again when I start having fun. I am having fun! But it’s not that simple.
I believe a true champion never gives up and finds a way to overcome any obstacle. After throwing up in my helmet and not having the energy to pull the clutch in Atlanta, I was forced to quit before the halfway mark. I should have stayed at home that weekend, but I couldn’t imagine not being at the race. Everyone who saw me at the race understood why, but I have never been more disappointed in myself. It seemed as though I had fallen short on my greatest belief.
After sleeping through most of the following week I felt ready to ride Daytona. What I failed to realize was that lying in bed for two weeks before the most gruelling race of the season made winning next to impossible. I started seeing spots from exhaustion b the seventh lap of my Daytona heat race, and I knew it was going to be a tough main event. I rigged up a CD player to my back that EVS made for me to practice with earlier in the week — music keeps me motivated and relaxed. I even told me mechanic, Lee, to have water ready for me in the closing laps. He laughed but knew I was serious.
The pace was much slower than that of a normal supercross. Even with everyone pacing themselves, however, I was already tiring by lap 4. The flu had taken every bit of my energy, and my body was worn down. By lap eight I couldn’t hear the music (or anything else), and my vision was getting narrow. I was still genuinely convinced that I could win, and after embarrassing myself by quitting in Atlanta, I just kept riding.
I remembered how discouraged I was when heroes growing up would let themselves fade to the back of the pack. Maybe I could have made a better judgement call, but I pushed until I blacked out. Next thing I remembered, I was laying on a stretcher on the Daytona Infield. Dr. John Bodnar, who has a broken leg, was asking me if I could remember what happened. After a brief look around I discouragingly said, “yeah, I crashed again.” Then, to my surprise, John said, “No, you just rode over the berm and fell off your bike.” Surprisingly I felt better around myself leaving the race with an IV and a pounding headache than I did after pulling off the week before.
As it looks at the time I’m writing this column, I will be taking a race or two off to get healthy. I have worn my body down too far, and until I get healthy, it’s impossible to train hard enough to make it worthwhile. This is the longest time period in my life that I have remained winless. I will be back, and I have never wanted to win more than I do now.
When you come up to me and ask why I don’t think racing is fun 100 percent of the time, think about this: Challenges are fun when you overcome them; riding is fun if you’re not ring with a painful injury; racing is fun until you’re so tired you piss yourself and wake up with an IV; training is fun until you push yourself to the absolute limit every single day. The unfortunate reality is that all of these issues will present themselves every week, sometimes every day, for an entire season. I have more fun riding a motorcycle than you could ever imagine, but I stand by m last article when I say, “Supercross is not fun.” Good luck and I’ll see you at the races.
July 2002
The Monday after Daytona I received some really disappointing news. The doctor informed me that I would need to take some time off from racing. His recommendation was one month of bed-rest. Laughing hysterically at this diagnosis, I quickly got a few more opinions. Shockingly, all the doctors were in agreement. I know that passing out from exhaustion before the halfway mark of the race isn’t normal, but the diagnosis couldn’t have been more surprising.
Being diagnosed with chronic sinusitis and chronic tonsillitis wasn’t a big surprise. I haven’t been able to breathe through my nose for years. Severe sinus headaches have been a weekly struggle, and over the past few months, swallowing has become progressively more difficult. Even with the symptoms, it didn’t seem as though taking time off from racing was a legitimate option.
With three days after the event it was obvious that my body would ever make it through an entire 20-lap main event without shutting down. I agreed to get my sinuses worked out and have my tonsils taken out. I opted for a new type of laser surgery that enlarged my nasal passage. The ENT (Ear Nose and Throat) doctor then scraped out my sinuses and gave me a machine to use after being exposed to dust.
The machine pumps a gallon of salt water in one nostril and out the other. In theory, this should solve a majority of my symptoms from dust. I have been headache-free ever since the operation, but it wasn’t nearly enough. My sinuses are still chronically messed up, and I am already scheduled for a good old-fashioned drilling in the off-season.
As for the tonsils, they were too infected to get removed for almost a month. By this time I was about to die from lack-of-motorcycle-itis. The ENT’s thought it would be possible to keep the infection under control with monthly penicillin shots and daily oral antibiotics. After returning to Oklahoma for training, my body relapsed within four days. I can live with a sore throat, but tonsillitis also tires me out and eventually wears down my immune system. Yesterday I was forced to get my tonsils removed. Is ice cream part of a well-rounded diet?
In the four days I was able to spend riding in Oklahoma, it was great to see a hero of mine preparing to make a comeback. Guy “Airtime” Cooper is riding faster and throwing his motorcycle farther upside-down than ever before. On his cheater 520cc electric-start beast, Guy has yet to lose an OK State series moto the entire year in any of the six classes he rides (A +25, +30, +40, or expert open 4-stroke). Guy is within a half-second of my lap times on every track other than his supercross circuit. He has more balance than anyone I know on trail bikes. Coop has more fun every day than most people do any day. Besides that, guy continues to make me an X and Gravity Games gold medallist Kenny Bartram look like total beginners when it comes to throwing a whip. Oh yeah, for his 40th birthday, “Airtime” learned how to do a superman seat grab.
Even though I haven’t been able to use much of anything around my house due to doctors’ orders, I am doing my best to turn it into a mini Woodward/Cooperland. My indoor BMX/Skate park with full Kicker system, basketball court, boxing setup, and rock-climbing wall has turned into the neighbourhood hangout. Ogio Bag Company sent out a top-of-the-line mechanical bull that should provide hours of brutal entertainment within the next week.
A month ago I bought a trampoline from Woodward that allows an experienced jumper to get more than 30′ above the ground. The tramp-bike has turned into the toy that rivals even an actual motorcycle when it comes to injury… But man, it’s fun! The motocross track is finished. The Supercross track was finally approved by the EPA and will be done before this issue of Racer X hits newsstands. Last but not least, Alpinestars, Puma, No Fear, EVS, and Camp Woodward have all greatly contributed to the largest foam pit ever built. Back flips, barrel rolls, body varials, and other fantasy tricks should become second nature real soon. This foam beast will be approximately 10′ tall and 50′ long and 40′ wide. It will be up no later than June.
Now, two months, two surgeries, 100 shots, six antibiotic changes, three relapses and two fluid replacement IV’s later… I haven’t gone this long without winning an event since I was four years old. It wasn’t a complete loss, however, o have learned that rest is key in successful training routine. This sickness has enabled me to better understand my limits and has taught me that riding with broken bones is much easier than riding through sickness. As for the Outdoor nationals, I will be ready, I will be strong, and I will be a contender, see you at the races.
August 2002
It’s good to be back! With one week of training/riding under my belt, it was off to the race at Glen Helen. I finished the opening round yesterday with a breathtaking dead last in both motos. On the last lap of practice I went for a 130′ tabletop on the backside and blew out the front wheel. It was the third wheel I had blown that week trying that jump. I would have given up after my first failed attempt, but a day earlier, a 14-year-old peanut rider (Honda factory-supported Mike Alessi) made it to the downside smooth as glass. The difference on my last attempt was that I broke the frame as well as my front rim. Unknowingly, I went into the start of moto one with a broken frame, which was putting stress on the electrical box. I started the first moto in second, but every bump or jump I hit cut the motor off. By the halfway mark in the first moto it was over.
With 40th pick to the gate in moto two, my start was lacklustre at the best. I expended a lot of energy on the first few laps and was able to work my way up to eight before the halfway mark. Too tired to hold the pace, I slowed down to make sure I would receive some points. It as to no avail; my arms were butter, and with two laps remaining, my hands blew off the grips. It seemed as though I would hit the fence at about 40mph… But that would have been too easy. The front end tucked, and I flipped over the bars.
Somehow I clipped the top of a four-foot fence right below my kneecaps. With the speed I had, this sent me into the dreaded NSEW (north-south-east-west) spin. Luckily, the people scattered, and the only victims were an old man’s walker and a half-abandoned chair. The younger man that was in the chair moved just late enough to get hit with my failing arm. Everyone was pretty astonished, and thankfully, no one was injured. In fact, everyone involved seemed rather excited that I had come within inches of judo-drop-ping them WWF-style. Everyone helped me to my feet, and two guys literally threw me back over the fence, cheering the entire time. This year has been by far the worst in my 14 years of riding. But I’m still excited to be back on the track, and with a little luck I will be back winning races again soon.
One thing about the weekend that wasn’t completely frustrating had to be the Jay Leno show. Even though I was just brought on the show to talk (perhaps the IFMA didn’t want to take a chance with the ever-unpredictable freestyle crew?), it was a great experience. All of the freestyle gos have progressed at warp speed, but Kenny Bartram is unbelievable. His Rock-Solid is so big that I thought he was crashing every time. Kenny was also doing a no-handed running man with a full extension into a heel-clicker, all in one jump!
All the freestylers did a great job. Even with the wind blowing in every direction, none of the four jumpers failed to do a trick on any jumps. Jones was probably the most entertaining. In rehearsals they told him to do some bar tricks… He showed them some “bar” tricks, but they had nothing to do with moto. Kenny received the most attention from Jay, as he was obviously a bit nervous. Somehow Bartram managed to mess up the only question he was given. When asked why he was called the Cowboy he answered, “I drive a country truck and listen to diesel music.” Then he took a least a minute to buckle his helmet while Jay continuously cracked jokes about his Super Cuts-quality hair. Despite the wind, Kenny went for the trick that won him the Gold last year in X Games Big Air. The bike blew sideways, and Bartram became the second motocrosses to crash on late-night TV.
Later that evening, Jay took Kenny and me to his personal garage, Well, actually, calling it a garage would be like calling the Grand Canyon a rain rut. With approximately 150 motorcycles and cars, it was a sight to be seen. Everything from a 1908 steam engine race car to a 1998 formula 1-style and a million-dollar Aston Martin were on hand. Surprisingly, he knew more about every car in the shop than most race team mechanics would.
I didn’t have high hopes coming into the season for the first few rounds because of my illnesses, but I was hoping to fare significantly better than I did. Everyone on the team worked so hard, and now that Kevin’s out for a while, the entire SoBe Suzuki tem has only me to rely on. I have a great bike this year and a lot of support. Even though this year has been one to forget for our team, everyone is working hard and no one is giving up. It will get better… It has to! See you at the races.
P.S. Check out www.travispastrana.com when you get a chance. It’s got merchandise for sale, free computer wallpaper, photos and streaming video, and lots of other cool stuff too!
September 2002
When I wrote in my last Racer X column that my season had to get better, I should have knocked on wood. Now, sitting at home with a broken wrist and watching the races yet again on TV is even more heartbreaking than before. I truly want to be out there, and it seems that everyone is still wondering why I’m not. As one race enthusiast told me at the SoBe High Point Nationals, “It’s just a broken wrist, get out there and ride.”
To be honest, I would have a better chance of doing will with a cast on my wrist than earlier this season with mono and chronic sinusitis. Suzuki has the best bike on the track, and of course I would like to help justify the work they put into research and testing, but, unfortunately, I can’t at the moment. The top riders are all running amazingly strong right now, and to run in the top five, I would have to be at 100%.
Sports in general are games of calculated risk; a race consists of constant series of calculated risks. If you’re the fastest racer ion the track, you can afford to take fewer chances. If you’re satisfied with the position you’re running you will also take fewer chances. I realize that with any hindrance I will need to take greater chances to stay competitive.
If I even had a remote chance at the championship, I would have more than likely taken the risk and at least tried to continue on with the series. The last thing I want is a fused wrist — which is what cut Rick Johnson’s career short — before I turn 19.
Last week I had the opportunity to do a car comparison/competition with some of the best drivers in the world. We were given two Corvette ZO6es and two Porsche Boxters. The object was to keep the car in a full slid on a skid pad while staying as close as possible to a line that went around a circle.
My new hero has to be Robby Gordon. He can and does drive anything better than anyone. If you ever watch an of the Crusty Demons videos, he is the one launching the desert truck over the 200-foot sand dunes. He has won the Baja 1000 and a NASCAR race just last fall. He has also finished well at the Indy 500. He is good on motorcycles, tests F1 carts, and finished eighth in a NASCAR race less than 24 hours before our Corvette competition.
When we arrived, Robby and a guy named Thomas Scheckter (the driver that was leading the Indy 500 when he hit the wall with only a few laps remaining) jumped into a BMW belonging to heaven-only-knows-who and hit the skid pad at about 100mph. No one really knew what to do, so everyone broke out their cameras as Robby went to school on the skid pad. E-breaking at 180 degrees into the parking area, they jumped out of the BMW and into the brand new Corvettes. They started racing side by side in full slides around the skid pad within a few feet of each other, until one of the test-guys finally flipped out and pulled the plug on the race.
The result of this competition will be posted in this month’s issue of Automobile Magazine. With everyone from Robby and Thomas to National Rally Car Champion Mark Lovell, Sprint Car Champion Bobby East, Lotus car tester Gavin Kershaw and more don’t expect to see my name at the top of the list, but what a fun day nonetheless!
With Kevin and myself out for Suzuki, they have found surprises in both Sean Hamblin and Daryl Hurley. Sean wasn’t even going to race this year, but when Suzuki called him to help test for the injured team, he turned some very impressive laps. Sean has always been fast, but to go from not racing to a factory ride and consistent top-ten finishes is something that just doesn’t happen in our sport.
Daryl, whom I raced with in Australia, comes over my house for a week to train and ride. He puts in his motos and we did the training, but after that, it was time to see what he was really of. Daryl jumped all the ramp jumps with no problem, was surprisingly good at paintball, and was up for trying flips into the foam pit. That’s when I got interesting. After coming up almost an entire bike length short on the 90-foot step-up, he chickened out on two of the jumps that Davi Millsaps heel-clicked over on his RM 80! Oh yeah, the backflips that Daryl was willing to try into the foam pit, I have never seen anyone land directly upside down so many times in my life.
My goal for returning to action is Unadilla, but Suzuki has the last say. If I can’t run two 40-minute motos at 100%, they won’t let me race. Until my cast comes off, I will be training on my road bike and at the gym. See you at the races– I hope!
February 2004
The rise of the cheater bike is upon us. Yes, that’s right; the tree-huggers of America didn’t feel that they were shutting down enough motocross tracks, so now we are being forced to ride obnoxiously loud bikes that every neighbour in a five-mile radius will surely complain about. I mean, come on! Those guys have shut down tracks for anything imaginable (saving an endangered kangaroo rat who lived close to a California track was my personal favourite), and now, because four strokes pollute a miniscule amount less than two-strokes, we have to ride bikes that piss off the neighbours!
That’s not to say four-strokes aren’t faster than their two-stroke counter parts, but it’s only because the AMA has allowed four-strokes twice the cc’s. If you were to race a 250cc two-stroke against a 250cc four-stroke, it wouldn’t even be close. It doesn’t make sense to me why everyone is pushing so hard for a motorcycle that’s heavier and slower to respond than what we already have.
I assume that the original term “thumper” was meant to refer to the deep, loud sound it produces (line up next to one on the start line or follow one up a hill and you will understand this meaning all too well), but I’m sure if you ask Tim Ferry or Ernesto Fonseca, they would give you a different explanation: a four-stroke has a slight lag time in throttle response that inevitably “thumps” its rider into the ground. Anyone who has probably ridden a supercross track on a thumper has probably experienced this lag firsthand. You hit the gas while jumping through a tight rhythm section, and before you realize the bike didn’t respond, you’re already on your head. In a sport such as supercross, where a millisecond reaction time is the difference between near-death and perfection how can you ride a bike that is two milliseconds slow to respond on average and randomly hesitates even longer?
Some people say that four strokes are easier to ride than two-strokes, and I have to admit that I do love my DRZ400 and have an arsenal of DRZ110 pit bikes that seem to be indestructible. The problem lies in getting it race-ready. Taking a two-stroke on a leisurely cruise is like driving an F-1 car down the interstate- they aren’t’ much fun to ride slow, and they beckon you to go faster. Four-strokes, on the other hand, are similar to Cadillacs. Plush, fun, and easy to drive, but would you really want to speed through track in your grandma’s four-door?
If four-strokes truly were easier to ride, freestylers around the world would be flocking to get their hands on one. Mike Jones tried one, once…. He broke his neck and his back. Kenny Bartram sold his within the first six months and Trevor Vines did about the same. Andy Bell rode a KTM 520 with no silencer at a few competitions back in the day to freak out the audience. Unfortunately, Andy’s gig ended when he realized the biggest trick he could pull was getting the beast from the takeoff to the landing without auguring himself into the ground.
In a sport where speed and power mean little to nothing, like in Freestyle, two-strokes will forever rule. Unfortunately, if you want a holeshot in an outdoor national, you better have nitro – unless you’re on a thumper. Every year it seems there is a new AMA rule that puts two-strokes at even more of a disadvantage. Next year, I wouldn’t be surprised to see James Stewart riding a four-stroke. I don’t know if any of his competitors have any inkling of hope left, but if he shows up at the first round on a four-stroke, even the best will be lucky not to be lapped.
I understand that they have to make an effort to help appease the environmentalists, but after finally getting my property more erosion-free and animal-friendly than even the best-kept national parks, my friends bought four-strokes and the neighbours (half a mile away, over a hill and through the forest) found an entirely new angle to let me pay Uncle Sam: noise pollution!
Well, I’m off to race at the Race of Champions, representing the USA along Boris Said and Casey Mears. Last year the USA won for the first time, with Jeff Gordon, Jimmie Johnson and Colin Edwards. The way it works is that each country gets to select a road car driver, a dirt car driver and a motorcyclist. We all drive equally prepared rally cars against our division. Normally the U.S. gets smoked because we don’t have any top rally driver, but last year was a breakthrough and hopefully we can carry the torch on this year.
