I always wanted a boat, the kind that could sail far away and see the world. My dreams were about to happen and it was all I could do to wait one more week for the final paycheck and the payment. The year 1988 St Patrick's Day and I had the down payment for a starter sailboat that I could live on as well as learn about the craft... then life happened, you never know where it takes you.
My best friend Rick comes home one day and asks me to test ride a bike he was interested in. My reaction was that of disbelief, when did our clan get into bikes, and where was I when this was all happening. Somehow all the boy's got bikes, Rick was the last to get one. He knew I used to ride as a kid (another long story) so I was to test Ricks bike. It was a nice 83 CB650 , I took to it like I just ridden the day before, not even a second thought to function or control. The tires were very low otherwise Rick had his bike. It was that one loop around the neighborhood that did it. A long dormant dragon had awakened and my blood was on fire. I was a manager for several stores at the time, so while driving to another site the Yamaha shop beckoned (did you really think it would be anything other than a Yamaha).When I was young my uncle would give me a ride to the local shop when he needed something for his XT500, a thrilling ride to say the least but I still kept wanting to go, he eventually gave me his DT175. So it had been a long time (7 years) since I set foot in Concord Yamaha. Ahh the new bike smell.
As a kid when I imagined myself as a rider I always figured on a cruiser with leather saddlebags, a classic jacket, jeans, boots and my shades (no rotten helmet laws back then). So I passed by the "crotch rockets" and took to the cruisers, V Max too big, my uncle also had one. Virago too gay, Maxim not to my liking. Hmm what's this, not a cruiser but not a sport bike and unusual as far as style a Yamaha Fazer 700. They let you test ride bike's back then, so again a ride around the block. I gave the owner cash, however just short a few hundred, it was a very long week. St Patrick's Day was zero hour my plan was to show up for work in Pleasant Hill and leave when the Yamaha shop opened, from there I was going to do "inventory" in several of the shops around the bay area....get it. Since I had never ridden on the freeway my first purchase was a Bell helmet and gloves. The owner came out he was paid and I rode directly onto the freeway, lets see what you got, I was damn near pulled off the bike, wow! On my ride around the bay area it was named The Jet.
A year later the clan has many hours and trips done, Mines Road in Livermore was our stomping grounds. My pal Tom and I would "run" Mines at least four times a week. One day he mentions racing and how fast I ride the Fazer, it never entered my mind. Another time the clan's all chillin and Tom puts on this race, it's like Mines but different he says , hmm. The race is The Isle Of Man TT the year 1989, a seed was planted and I didn't even know it. Tom also mentioned that some racers out of San Francisco were running the Isle. It said so in City Bike, Chris Crew was his name, (he raced the TT from 89 to 91 a fine racer, godspeed).
So I sold the Fazer to buy a sport bike , an 86 VFR700, it really taught me how to crash. Tom and I were now "training" to become TT Racers. We even did a Keith Code Track Day (rare back then) at Laguna Seca, a really cool time and an eye-opener as to what it really takes to be a racer speed wise. My best friend Tom died on Mines Road on Jan 2nd 1991, I couldn't get out of work early so he went with some of the clan, a tank slapper sent him and his Ninja 600 into a wall only two turns away from the end of the ride. The clan disbanded after that for several reasons really, no one was to blame. All this changed how I was to look at riding and racing for many years. I ran alone. My job was now to get to the Isle at all costs, Tom's death was not to be meaningless. I got a proper race bike a Yamaha 1989 FZR400 and proceeded to become a racer. However where do I start and how to learn the craft.
A Racer Races, I read that in Roadracing World, as well as everything I could get my hands on as to find out about how to race. There were two tracks available for a privateer, Sears Point in Sonoma and Willow Springs in Rosamond (the Mojave Desert). I took the new riders school at Sears Point in 1991, my first race license and the start of a long journey. The plan was to get as much track time as I could racing AFM then WSMC, this in turn would make me faster and from there go race the AMA Nationals as a Pro and with those credentials allow me to get an International FIM Race License for the Isle of Man TT, my timetable was 1998. Again life got in the way, pesky thing.
Between changing jobs every year and moving around a lot, the task of racing every month or even every year for that matter was really tough and expensive. However my mind was always there. To race sporadically means it takes all the longer to become familiar with the bike as far as set up and speed also the nuances of the courses changed with time. Winning was nothing but a dream, while the big dogs had their very nice bikes with all the right gear and lots of motor, I rode my FZR daily and raced it on the weekends, pure poor privateer, it showed with my flat black or primer gray paint job, I begged, borrowed and stole any truck or ride to get to the races as well. The bike had heart though at times we crashed or would get hit, that would take months and at a time years out of my timetable. About six years racing with the AFM and WSMC there was a change, somewhere along the line I became seasoned, when I arrived to the track I was fit and relaxed, everything went smoothly in the pits, the bike had a stronger motor and was definitely faster. We (me and the FZR) also found ourselves on the front row #4 spot on the grid... it was really cool. The bike was stock except for a stronger motor, pipe and a Fox shock around us the other bikes were pure racers, mine did daily work, I think that's why it was always proud to be there up front and running hard. The FZR finished racing in 1998, starting on the front row till it's last day. I loved that FZR 400.
So it's 1999 I feel fast enough to join the AMA, first I needed a proper bike, the mighty R1 was a natural choice. The first time out I damn near got pulled right off the bike, pure power I smiled. Finally some horsepower. Yamaha paid for good finishes we ran at Willow Springs, Sears Point Button Willow and Thunder Hill gas money was earned. The R1 ate through tires and fuel at an alarming rate so I had to adjust my tactics. No practice just race, not the best but I needed the points for my TT application. Out of pure luck I was introduced to Wade Boyd of Subculture Racing (a ten time TT racer back then) by Pat of Subterranean Cycles. My TT dreams were rising to the surface. The first year with the R1 we were on the front row again, as usual we were stock and daily runners, the rest of the guys around us were pure race bikes. I always believed you didn't have to sacrifice your only ride to race, to win yes but to run hard no. The bikes are so good now you can race and ride a year with no real affects to times. That's just been my belief.. We finished Fourth here and Seventh down south, in Open SB and GP, I never got on the podium. My plan was to win in 2000 and go to the TT in 2001. Life happens and times become interesting.
Willow Springs January 2000, I get hit on the third lap of the first practice, my R1 was upgraded with a list of cool stuff. Some Ducati jerk actually sat up while fully leaned in turn two at about 120, he went outward and hit me on the side using me as a berm, while I'm trying to save us he regains control only to hit me again, thoroughly pissed I regain control at the edge of the track, we are safe...nope the racer behind us target fixated and took me out with extreme prejudice, while in the air I realized there was no way to save it... brace for impact alx. The result a nine year pissed off vet with a totaled R1, a five year vet bleeding with a totaled GSXR and the Ducati guy unscathed, GSXR dude had to keep me from kicking Ducati guys ass, what a stupid move that could have killed us all. And another concussion for alx. It took a few race weekends to fix the R1, my year was ruined. However still alive and kicking.
In 2001 my dream was so close as to touch it, my application to the Isle of Man TT races was accepted. Again life was to kick me hard in the gut. Mad Cow disease closed the borders I wasn't to race at The Isle of Man. For various reasons my affairs in life were to become the toughest of times. I had no working race bike and jobs were sporadic, however my mind was always there.
The next few years I was able to show up for the AFM 4 hour endurance race at Sears Point, I ran with Wade on his R1 (Subculture Racing Baby!) otherwise not much riding or racing getting done personally, mainly due to incompetent mechanics. My R1 motor was finally finished in 03, however after years gone, it was not really a winning bike, not enough horsepower you see. We again applied to the TT in 2004, (I never stopped sending my applications every year in hopes I could get a ride). After many letters and appeals to the AFM, AMA, ACU and FIM,(license people), being that I hadn't raced in years and never raced AMA or won a race they all were skeptical. I fought them tooth and nail and won. In the end I finally got to run my 99 Yamaha R1 down Bray Hill at the Isle of Man TT in 2004, and I made a toast to Thomas Granville Burke III at the awards banquet with Wade and Christine of Subculture Racing, my TT Medal is dedicated to Tom and I look at it daily. It took fourteen years to race the TT, if you want something bad enough stay true to the path and never quit.
A Racer's life isn't easy, for a Privateer it's even harder.
~Cheers, Alx