Ron Brown about to set a land speed record on a 1950 BMW single
I rode down to Tacoma at 6:30 this morning to have breakfast with Ron Brown and some of his friends at a grungy little diner called Fergie’s on McKinley Avenue. Sitting in the presence of these five older guys, who were competitive motorcycle racers in the 1960s and lifelong gearheads, was fantastic. Eating my biscuits and gravy, I listened as the conversation ranged from stock car regulations, midget racing and top-fuel dragsters, to motorcycle trials, supercross, crash stories, and the inadequacies of the Vintage Motorcycle Enthusiast members who were not present.
“I don’t like the way riding gear looks nowadays. I’m sitting there watching this motocross race, and I’m trying to root for this guy because he’s from Poulsbo…. and here he comes around the corner wearing a pair of these ugly fucking clown pants. Jesus.”
“Travis Pastrana- what a jackass. Trying to do a goddamn back-flip in the practice heat. I mean, he could have been the next Ricky Carmichael.”
After breakfast we went to visit Ron’s friend Gene’s shop, which was also a museum of incredible British dirt bikes, trophies, and memorabilia. I was amazed, and also terrified at the thought of ever having to show my BSA project to any of these perfectionists, who casually unveiled one after the other: a perfect Greeves motocross bike, three spotless flat-track race bikes, Ron’s restored BSA scrambler, as well as several custom-fabricated wonders.
Original poster signed by Jim Rice and Dave Aldano: The stars of On Any Sunday!
Gene’s shop fridge
Ron
The “speed freaks” (heavy on the freaks), enjoyed hosting a wide eyed Forest Hoag early this AM. These guys are ligit; Darrell and Sandy having actively campaigned flat track bikes in the 60’s and 70’s. Larry the painter raced midgets and sprint cars up to 4 years ago, and Gene was the Western BSA Factory service rep in the early 70’s until BSA folded. I’ve known these guys for the better part of 50 years; Gene and I went to school together nearly 60 years ago.
My claim to fame has largely been a fantastic line of bullshit up to a couple of years ago when I had the opportunity to go to Speedweek and set a pair of National Speed Records on small vintage bikes.
Forest, we’re looking forward to infecting you with the virus that drives us on. Once the bike bug bites, you are done. It’s like “Salt Fever”, you can keep it in remission for about 50 weeks, but you can’t cure it.
Cheers, Ron T.