Over the last few weeks, I've been reminiscing about my former dirt bike days quite a bit. Even though those days were over thirty years ago, many memories remain burned into my aging mug. Rides, races, people, trails, practice tracks, various bikes, magazine articles and photos - all stored in my defective head, like some sort of crazed mental filing cabinet. Sometimes while falling asleep, I'll retrace various riding areas like a movie, with me behind the handlebars of my Suzuki RM125 on New Jersey trails I've haven't rolled on since 1981. Yup, call me loopy.
The memory machine has been revved up more then usual lately, with old friends posting photos from that era on Facebook, along with a few phone calls this week laughing about old times. On top of that, I connected with a vintage motocross site on Facebook with a treasure trove of photos from our era of the action. Through that, some comments sharing with new people as well, including one rider from New Jersey who rode the same areas as me, back in the day. I don't know this person, but we may have ridden at these places at the same time. Pretty wild.
Sounds corny, but I treasure those old photos now, since we didn't take many shots back then. We just never bothered to carry a camera. So rediscovering 'em now is very cool, for a historical view of the sport, plus a look back when we were basically kids. Teenage years into our early twenties.
Crank up the time machine. Here's a few people oriented shots from back in the day...
This be me, circa 1980 or so. I owned a succession of dirt bikes, this was the last and best of the bunch - my 1979 Suzuki RM125N. Two stroke motors were the norm, as was twin shock rear suspension and drum brakes. Long travel suspension was in full swing by then however, with close to 12 inches of travel front and rear. My plastic Scott boots and bolt on "Iron Jaw" face guard, trick at the time - also now scream vintage. I did race some motocross and hare scrambles events back then, hence my official District 6 race number of 267. I received a royal ass kicking in actual races, but still glad I participated. You haven't lived until you experience a motocross start with the mad drag race to the first turn, in a sea of noise and roosted dirt.
This be me, circa 1980 or so. I owned a succession of dirt bikes, this was the last and best of the bunch - my 1979 Suzuki RM125N. Two stroke motors were the norm, as was twin shock rear suspension and drum brakes. Long travel suspension was in full swing by then however, with close to 12 inches of travel front and rear. My plastic Scott boots and bolt on "Iron Jaw" face guard, trick at the time - also now scream vintage. I did race some motocross and hare scrambles events back then, hence my official District 6 race number of 267. I received a royal ass kicking in actual races, but still glad I participated. You haven't lived until you experience a motocross start with the mad drag race to the first turn, in a sea of noise and roosted dirt.This picture was taken at Stanhope Pits, as we called it, near Stanhope, New Jersey. It was one of the many practice motocross tracks we had in the area - all linked together via a network of railroad tracks and wooded trails. I could leave from my driveway and ride for miles to connect various riding areas together - all on dirt. Considering this was densely populated New Jersey, mind boggling to me (now) that this all existed. We were damn lucky. Later, when cars and motorcycle trailers were part of the scene - we'd drive to some of the spots, park and then ride - with no hassle from anyone. An amazing open era of land access. Well, up until '81 or so, then things began to change and the police would arrive to chase riders off. It was the beginning of the end.
Stanhope Pits has since been covered by a huge office park. The people now sitting in their cubicles have no clue of the fun that once took place on that acreage.
My old friend Don roosting his 1975 Husqvarna CR250, circa 1978, through a sandy turn at Mine Hill Pits - another riding area for us. Mine Hill Pits was located in Kenvil and bordered Mine Hill, New Jersey. And it was just that - a mine hill. The area was previously mined many years earlier, leaving various levels of elevation changes, laced with sandy trails through new growth trees. This was our home spot and we spent many weekends roosting around it. At times it was too popular, with many riders sharing the fun - and occasionally crashing into each other. From when I discovered it in the mid '70s, and I'm sure earlier then that, through '81 or so - this was a free-for-all with no hassles. That began to change with gates being put up and police patrolling the area. The end of an era. My New Jersey pals tell me a large recycling center now sits on the spot.I've known Don since high school and we're still in contact with 3000 miles separating us. His dirt bike days were over by '81 or so. Later, he picked up the bicycle bug and road raced for a few years - toss in some mountain bike racing as well. After a back injury sidelined his road race "career", he become the hard core commuter on a recumbent. How's that for the culture shock change? His back now in order, he rides normal bikes once again, including a new 29er mountain bike. He's also the kayak and ski nut, and a family man as well. Super nice guy.
Here's Frank sitting on Kevin's crashed Maico after a failed test ride. Note the completely twisted handlebars. It was a pretty healthy crash following a tank slapping session down one of Mine Hill Pits whooped out sections. I've lost contact with Frank since the dirt bike days, but hear about him via other New Jersey friends. I remember him being a good rider with a really fluid style and having a sense of humor. One of the many cast of characters from those days. I hear Frank races mountain bikes now in the Expert class. That doesn't surprise me.
Old pal Kevin on his '75 Maico 400, complete with new handlebars courtesy of Frank. Same era of Mine Hill Pits action. Puch jersey reflects his previous bike, a '75 Puch 175, that the Maico replaced. Later, a spanking new '79 Maico 450 was added to the mix. After that, the '81 Suzuki RM125 - plus modern bikes to this day.I've known Kevin since elementary school and we're still in contact, even though I'm in Seattle and he's rooted to New Jersey. Kevin has remained the gear head with piles of motorcycle, cars, snowmobiles and other forms of fun in his many garages. He also rides mountain bikes, including 24 hour races solo. His wife Beth has raced mountain bikes as well. They have a young daughter now, who's already riding around the yard aboard a Yamaha PW50 with training wheels. Super cool old friends.
Another old New Jersey pal, Todd - here launching off a snow covered hill on a borrowed Maico, circa 1980 at Mine Hill Pits. Out of all of us, Todd was the most talented rider by far. Back in the day; Kevin, Todd and I would travel to races together and race the 500, 250 and 125 classes respectively. The full day of motocross action. Todd always had a few bikes in the garage, all purchased himself as a teenager, thanks to cutting lawns and a huge paper route. Early Yamaha TY80, '74 Suzuki TM125, '76 Suzuki RM125A, '74 Suzuki RL250 and the '78 Maico 250 to fill out the impressive list. Let's see a kid try to recreate that today, don't think it's possible.Todd now lives in Connecticut with his wife and collection of sport motorcycles - the dirt days are over. He also does some serious mountain climbing. There was a gap of at least 10 years since I heard from Todd, but I'd hear about him via other friends. About a year ago we chatted on the phone. The 10 years felt like 2 weeks - the sign of a true friend. I've also known Todd since our school days, many many years ago.
My dirt bike days were over in 1981, though I owned a string of sport motorcycles right up to 2006, so did a fair amount of street riding. At times I daydream about riding dirt bikes again, something modern like a KTM 150, or getting involved with the vintage motocross scene. With my current state of time and money, being family guy - that remains a pipe dream. When it comes down to it though, in today's world, bit of a hassle to ride dirt bikes now. Need to drive out to specific areas, which dwindle down every year, plus it's become insanely expensive. Add in the environmental aspect, though I feel certain areas should be set aside for this type of activity, and compared to the millions of cars idling in traffic everyday, the amount of pollution from dirt bikes is minuscule.
Lucky for me, my obsession with bicycles parallels my obsession with motorcycles. Mountain bikes have replaced dirt motorcycles - since 1984. Looking deep, I dig the bicycles more for many reasons. Bit of a different culture that matches my style and interest. Add in the fitness and health factors as well. No contest. In ways it reminds me of my dirt bike days - cast of characters get together and ride around the woods, lots of laughs involved and being outside. There's the shared spark and camaraderie of doing something a little out of the mainstream with a crowd that gets it. Two wheels, moto or pedal powered are the ultimate catalyst for that.
Still fun to look back however, so I'll enjoy my little trip down memory lane awhile longer.