It seems like just yesterday I was walking the track at the 1988 SCORE World Championship Series at the Riverside International Speedway. I was inspecting the track where the following morning I would race in Class 24 aboard my faithful 250R against some of the best riders in the country. This wasn't a series, but rather a one-race event where the first to cross the checkered flag would be crowned champion. At that time, I was riding for Bill Cervera, owner of Bill's Pipes, and Bill wanted this title just as desperately as I did. If I was going to win this one, I would have to throw down on some really fast Yamaha Banshees and Suzuki QuadRacer 500s on a course that would let them reach speeds that my 250R couldn't touch. The technical portions of the track would be my only chance to make up enough time to clinch this title for my much-deserving team. This included a massive high-speed double that didn't appear to be achievable on a quad! But if I could clear the massive double, I knew that the chances for victory would definitely be in my favor. My pit crew agreed but decided the risk would be too great and begged me to take the extra time and be cautious through the double.
The next morning, I woke up determined and geared up for the big day. Unfortunately, during the night a torrential downpour had turned the high-speed raceway into a muddy mess making traction difficult for everyone on the course. I still had my eye on that double and had decided during the night that if I could build up enough speed before the launch, I would make it unscathed. The mud and extremely slippery conditions were the only things clouding my vision as I rounded my first practice lap. They slowed my pace, which made clearing that double much harder than I expected. But I had to stick with my plan if I wanted the victory! I couldn't reveal my plan and give away my strategy until the end of practice, so I just played it cool for a while. I needed to let the track dry before attempting the jump, but as soon as I felt comfortable with the track conditions, I decided to let 'er rip. My 250R was pinned as I hit the jump, and as you've probably figured out by now, I didn't quite make it.
I came up short of the landing and ate dirt hard. I wasn't the only rider to fall victim to this muddy morning, as ATV Rider Publisher Sean Finley, who can hold his own on an ATV, and Team Honda's Marty Hart followed with similar results. My machine was absolutely destroyed, lying in ruin with broken A-arms, busted hubs, a bent axle and countless other items in shambles. The good news is that I only suffered a few bumps and bruises during the crash and was determined to continue if my team was able to rebuild my machine in time for the start of the race. But this wasn't an easy task.
Back in this day, support rigs were unheard of, leaving my team to travel in a small Toyota truck with an extra cab. My Honda was placed on top of the spare tires in order to provide space underneath for tools and gear. Needless to say, an extra machine for parts wouldn't fit, so the practice quad located at Bill's shop in Corona, California, would be the closest source of replacement components. The team scrambled to assemble a list of parts to be retrieved from the shop while I disassembled the remains of what was previously an immaculate racer. The clock was ticking and there was much to be done before the green flag dropped. It wasn't a matter of simply replacing parts; the machine had to be set up and dialed in if I were to battle with the fierce competition that I would soon be facing. Without a moment to spare, the 250 began to take shape and give me some needed assurance that we would be ready to race.
Once again, I found myself at the starting line staring down the double that nearly took me out of the race and could have sent me for a long and unwanted ambulance ride. SCORE's World Championship title was still up for grabs, and I knew what had to be done to earn it. I wanted that title more than anything. The flag dropped and the race was on. The track had dried out and the big-bore machines were flying past me just as I had expected. They would pull what seemed like a 50-quad-length lead on me as we were tapped out down the long paved straights of the raceway. When we entered the rough whoops and jumps, I could reel them back in, but keeping in front of them was going to require a substantial lead as the high-speed straights were approaching. I had to once again defy the request of my team and go for that gnarly double if I wanted to win. This time, to the relief of the guys and myself, the mud didn't hold me back and I rocketed that jump and landed hot on the gas. Clearing it gained me the advantage I needed for the win. Mere seconds can make the difference between finishing first or coming in second. And with this title almost in my grasp, I continued to keep the throttle hammered down. To my advantage, no one followed over the double, and each lap I was able to hold on to the lead. As the finish line grew near, I knew it was my dedicated team who gave their all that was the key to this title. With the help of Lyndon Lorrance, Jeff Springman and Bill Cervera, I took home the trophy that day and a memory I and many others would never soon forget. I guess that old saying rings true: "You have to pin it to win it!"