“Life begins at the end of your comfort zone” – Neale Donald Walsh
200 mph on the Bonneville Salt Flats in a motorcycle I had never been on before – that was the goal. But there was more to it. As it turns out the longest off-road race in the United States was a couple of days later – “Vegas to Reno”, 514 miles. “Ok, let’s do that too – it will be epic!” I was an experienced desert racer, and I had raced a 300-mile race in Nevada two months earlier. “I got this”, I thought.
Ok, one trip, two goals, lots of planning and preparation complete. One thing at a time.
We pulled onto the salt at Bonneville early on a Saturday morning. The salt is very white. The sun bounces off of it and you need dark sunglasses and a wide-brimmed hat. The threat of exposure is real.
The texture is like rough finished concrete, smoother in spots, and rough in spots, with the occasional rut or hole. Untouched, the salt has bumpy lines in it forming patterns. It’s as if a thousand moles were lost under there. I always wondered how thick the salt is. 50 feet? 200 feet? I had no idea. It turns out the salt is from 3” to 7” thick. That’s it.
Bordered by beautiful brown mountains, the white salt is a flat jewel in a valley. I couldn’t help myself – I tasted it. No surprise – it tasted like salt.
The organizers drag the course to make it smooth. They have two courses. One is three miles long with three miles to stop and one is five miles long with three miles to stop. They prepare alternate courses. Think of six runways parallel to each other. Speed Week goes on for six days. On days one and two they will use one course. The salt gets chewed up from accelerating wheel traffic, so on days three and four they use their first alternate, and on day five and six the second alternate. I had no idea how important all this would be to my quest. I was learning fast.
That’s what happens when you do something new. You have to learn even the very basics of it. Here’s the line. Here’s where you start. Here’s how you know when to start. Here’s where you ride to. Here’s what you do then.…
The whole event is put on by the SCTA – Southern California Timing Association. It’s tightly controlled. Step one – registration. Step two – drivers meeting. Step 3 – Rookie orientation. They take you down the track in your car or truck and you get to see what the course is like, and where to turn out to the return road which is about 120 yards from the course parallel to it. When you make a run, they do not allow you to ride or drive back to the starting line. You have to be towed by your chase team or on a trailer to return.
We had 10 people on our support/chase team and three vehicles – an RV set up in the front row between courses one and two, a passenger van, and a flatbed truck with a box trailer to haul the bikes. It’s a significant operation and necessary to get the job done as I would come to realize.
I was nervous. I had never been on these bikes before, and I didn’t know if I could tuck tight enough and still see, given a big gas tank in your chest. I didn’t know what it would feel like.
I kept telling myself that if anyone could do it, then I could too. Hours went by in the hot sun and we took the steps to get to the starting line and get the bike out on the salt.
At tech inspection, I stayed in the background while Dean, our mechanic, and ex road racer stayed with the bike and the inspector. We had the wrong tires they said. They were not rated for over 200 mph and because of that, they put a speed limit on the bike of 200 mph. We were not to exceed it. There were debates and questions about whether the tires were safe at 200+. In the end, the inspectors won, and we were not allowed to hit our goal unless we changed tires. We were frustrated.
Then the inspector asked, “Where’s the rider?” Dean pointed to me. He asked me to come over and sit on the bike. Then he said, “Ok, turn the ignition on”. I looked down. I hesitated. I thought “Oh crap. Where’s the ignition?”. It wasn’t obvious. I broke into an embarrassed sweat. The inspector waited. Here I was at Bonneville to take this bike over 200 mph and I didn’t even know how to start it!!
I played like I was deaf and didn’t hear him. The inspector finally reached over and turned the ignition on.
This was going to be some experience….
Another great movie in the works?
The quest towards the goal of 200 mph was very inspirational, goal achievement was very methodical. Among one of my most favorite memories of goal success. Larry, you were amazing to witness, you didn’t show the nerves when the ride was a little scary. It was an awesome experience, so I thank you for that! Sometimes you don’t realize the lesson you are teaching us until months latter..
I absolutely love reading about your experience. I had no idea this type of racing even existed.