Tuesday, October 11, 2011

2011 Barber Vintage Motorsports Festival- Lessons Learned

I have no clue how this actually came together with little to no resistance, but I'm VERY glad of it. My pops and I have wanted to get to this event for years, and we decided this was the year to make it happen. Strangely, though, the weekend fell on the same days as both my wife and I's first anniversary as well as my birthday. Hells yeah I wanna go for my birthday, but I tiptoed a little when it came down to celebrating our anniversary with a weekend of driving, racing, and oogling motorcycles. Luckily the stars all aligned and my wonderful bride showed me once again why she is the only woman that can deal with me and somehow enjoy it.


The weekend was full. A combined 1500 miles and 3 days at the uber-sick Barber Motorsports Park. It's no all-inclusive resort on the beaches of Jamaica, but we had a great time and came away with some excellent memories and a few lessons learned.

Lesson 1: Racing is sweet. It's the ultimate in pure competition, all-out badassery, and imposing your will on your surroundings. It's so clean cut- you start here, you finish here. Good luck. A whole world of things will happen between those two places, but the goal is clear: win. I've raced for a few years now, and it's always the same formula: for every minute of racing, there's at least an hour worth of stories to tell. It never fails. You see some of the most triumphant, dramatic, heartbreaking events unfold all within milliseconds of each other. Somehow, vintage racing takes us all back to the roots of racing, where it was far more pure than it is now. These guys are all on bikes that by today's standards are underpowered, clumsy, and have crap for brakes. But the cool part is everyone else on the starting line is dealing with those same issues. You don't know racing until 4 guys are going into a corner side by side, and it's a well known fact that everyone's brakes are shit and they're all 83% out of control. Love it!

The weekend was full of amazing racing, but two moments stuck out most to me. In Saturday's Century Race, a handful of motorcycles all 100 years or older lined up for two laps. After 5 miles of breakneck 25 mph speeds and watching these guys reach down to pump oil into the engines so they don't seize, the winner came through on a third lap. When interviewed, here's his response:

Announcer: "Why did you take that third lap after you'd already won the race?"
Racer: "Felt Good."

If that's not pure, I don't know what is! My other favorite racing moment was mid day on Sunday. A long time bad ass, Kevin Schwanz, was in a heated battle for the lead of an 8 lap race. He started off in fourth place, but was battling like a mad man for the win. He made two passes and the heat was on- he only had a couple laps left to catch the leader, and it was making for some spectacular racing for everyone watching. The battled stayed tense, then on the last lap, he came through for the win! Funny thing about it all- officials meatballed him from the start and he refused to come in for the stop-and-go penalty. Not out of ego or to protest their call, but because he was balls deep in a great race and wasn't going to give an inch to anyone! I thoroughly enjoyed that, and as a guy that will foot race you for a dollar in the parking lot, I'll drink a beer to the legend that is Schwanz and the attitude of a die-hard racer.

(Notice the flags)


Lesson 2:
It's all about the journey. The destination is merely a pit stop. I know for our group, we enjoyed the traveling together as much as anything. There's nothing more capable of building a strong bond among people than spending several days on the road together. At the same time, we heard all kinds of stories of the road from people we met. Geezers on clapped out Beemers, Triumphs, BSA's, and any other kind of bike you can name that all rode to the event. If you're in need of an adventure, go set up a 40 year old motorcycle, gear up, and hit the road. You'll find a whole new definition to the word "adventure". Another way this focus on the journey manifested itself was in my rambles through the various pits, paddocks, and camp areas. I'm guilty of it, as are most of my racer friends. But here's some guys that are driving a quarter million dollar diesel pusher RV with a ten thousand dollar trailer behind it to haul their $2500 bike out for a race. Tell me these guys don't get it. A week of travel, a wonderful place to stay, every comfort you could ask for, and their entire family and even the dog in a lot of cases. That's a great way to do things. On the other end of the spectrum, I saw plenty of old VW air cooled buses with tents, chairs, and race bikes around them. Adventure is in the eye of the beholder, and it exists everywhere. The key is to play by your own rules and make sure it "Feels Good".


Lesson 3: This scene needs some young blood. I noticed a serious lack in younger enthusiasts. I turned 27 this weekend, surrounded by machines far older than I am. But in a sea of swap meet, I caught the all familiar glowing blue and yellow of a mid 80's Yamaha IT. It struck a chord immediately, and it was picture time. Standing there, it was hard to not reflect on my time with that bike. I could write a book on that era in my life. I didn't have the magazines telling me what was cool or what bike I should be on. I had this leaky, smelly, loud as hell dirt bike that was too big and fast for me, but I knew if I got it leaned just right, I could get on her and kick that starter over until it was play time. I still remember the day I found out you could buy gaskets and air filters. I'd always made my own gaskets from shoe boxes, and the air filter was the hood I cut off a sweater. Memories like that keep me going, and I love soaking up the stories from the vintage crowd that are along the same lines. And I especially enjoyed walking around the museum while my Dad told stories of either riding, racing, selling, or lusting after all these different machines I'd never seen in person. All that ingenuity, the chances the manufacturers took, and the things they tried to out do their competition. It's a far cry from today's scene and the cookie cutter bikes we all ride. In the past, a bike was redesigned every year- today it gets "bold new graphics". Don't get me wrong, I love my 2009 KTM and 2008 Ducati, but there's just something special about taking it back a few steps and riding an RD 400 or old Elsinore and realizing these gray hairs could smoke you with that machine and an open face helmet.

I'm not sure what it will take to get my generation back to the roots, or if it's one of those things that steadily evolves until we're old and gray and outdated, just like the machines we love now will be. But in the meantime, take a second to look back at what made this lifestyle so cool. And if you get the chance, throw a leg over something older than you and listen to the stories. There's a lot to be learned from our past, and a lot of these lessons will make for a better future in the motorcycling community. Race hard, find the adventures, and respect your fellow rider.


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