Hi readers:
Glad you checked in, Joe Bonello is doing better and thats good news, Joes a great guy and has always been nice to me, and I don’t necessarily make that an easy thing to do.
I got this story from Al Banta, it’s pretty funny so take a minute to read it. I’d stick around and tell you more, but dead line for the magazine is up and I need to write some stories, plus I need to get some work done on my bike, so I’m outa here!
Charlie
BIKE RUNNING BACKWARD
I have just been reading another rag (motorcycle magazine). It of course doesn’t begin to compare with the content and quality of Trail Rider Magazine but sometimes you run out of reading material and anything will do. Often of interest to me is the “Letters to the Editor”, specially the short ones that get right to the point. This one letter caught my eye and started me thinking (unusual for me, but on occasion). It ask the question of whether or not the editor had ever heard of a two-stroke running backward. As of right now I still don’t know the reply because as usual my mind immediately begin drifting back in time (another frequent occurrence). Somewhere back in the early to mid 1970’s (that is my way of telling you I have a poor memory) I was a Penton dealer soon to become KTM. in any case I had a new Penton 250 that I was using for MX and Hare Scrambles, the Hare Scrambles being my favorite by far as it did away with the jitters I always got thinking about the first turn in an MX and all the potential situations, few of which in my mind had positive outcomes.
I believe the location of this particular HS was in Marysville California possibly under the old ‘E’ St. bridge. (When you see this memory thing pop-up the best thing is to just let your mind plug in a date and location that suits you!) So on to the story—on this day as was standard procedure you propped you bike up with a stick after digging a small ditch under the rear wheel. You see the starts were always dead engine and of course the bike needed to be started in neutral which necessitated the ditch so that the bike wouldn’t roll of the stick and knock down all the other machines.
Okay now on to the start. It was common practice to face your bike from about 20 feet (that always changed) and on the GO command run to your machine start it, slam it into second gear (at least on the Penton), nail the throttle and drop the clutch. All of this I did at my usual pace, which on this occasion had me getting to the bike, having it start on the first kick, drop easily into gear, turn the throttle to the stops and drop the hammer! If there hadn’t been so much noise around me, as you see the two-strokes back then were unmuffled and ear plugs were for ditch digging and jack-hammer operators, in any case without all the racket I might have noticed that the motor sounded a bit off and sluggish to take the throttle in a much unusual way (unless you’ve heard it, well?) so when I dropped the clutch I was immediately slammed into the handlebars, my feet went flying forward and I was propelled backward in a human ‘U’ shape form at a high rate of speed. This “event” brought out several different reactions from spectators and friends, non-riders and women who screamed and ran while hoping I would survive this un-natural act of reverse propulsion. The riders that had already raced or were about to were to a person either doubled over or actually on the ground dealing with fits of laughter and blow back thru the nose. Many of them later on stated they thought they themselves might passout because they unable to breathe for a moment or two.
So I just know you are anxiously awaiting the outcome of this incredible launch, and further what damage might have been done to the bike or myself. Well now I have to inform you that much like a favorite race on TV where you didn’t set the recorder to go long enough, I apologize (to those that have read this far) that I have no recollection at least of the initial outcome. I do have a faint memory of restarting the Penton and taking off after the rest of the riders. I sort of recall being sore in spots I’d never felt discomfort in previously. And further more I don’t recall this phenomenon happening to me ever again.
Things like this as we all know only happen when there is a crowd around, and always filled with friends and people you know, who unlike myself will never forget this as long as they live.
Oh, and one last thing I faintly recall is that after the race was over and I returned to the pits no one came over to talk to me except for a few riders that had been on the line and been fortunate enough to propel themselves forward therefore having no knowledge of the “Really Big Show”. Others pointed toward me from area’s they thought out of range, and many flew back into fits of laughter.
Glad I could make your day!
Al Banta
3 responses so far ↓
1 Psycho Monkey // May 19, 2008 at 11:36 am
I was probably not born yet (just thought I would throw that in to make you feel old!) so I certainly was not there, but I have a mental picture (since you explained it so well) and that has made my day!
2 wyatt // May 19, 2008 at 4:34 pm
I have seen it happen before, and I knew onetime what was said to have caused it but thats gone out with all my old girlfriends birthdays, which come to think of it, I could never remember in the first place. A fine tale.
3 250 motorcycle engine // May 30, 2008 at 8:53 am
[...] make that an easy thing to do. I got this story from Al Banta, it??s pretty funny so take a mihttp://www.trailrider.com/look-before-backing/Amid Myanmar Secrecy, Tales of Survival The Gadsden TimesIt is possible to piece together a picture [...]
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