The Motorbike Archives

It was the first roadrace in the United States to attract front-line European participants, and it attracted them as long ago as 1968, when Phil Read came over to try and lean on the Harley-Davidsons and the 500 Triumphs with his 350 Yamaha. Since then, we've seen Mike Hailwood, Percy Tait, Peter Williams, Paul Smart, Rod Gould, Kel Carruthers (who came and stayed), Cliff Carr (likewise), Ginger Molloy, and the only full-scale factory attack ever mounted by Honda in the United States, a four-machine effort manned by Bob Hansen, Tommy Robb, Ralph Bryans, Bill Smith, and, as an after-thought, Bugs the Superb.

And along with a healthy representation of European racers and teams came a glut of exposure in the European press. In 1971 Daytona generated more foreign ink than any single Grand Prix, including the hoary Isle of Man. The United States has solidified and strengthened its position as the world's foremost motorcycle market; where the market is is where the factories race hardest; where the factories race hardest is where the money is; where the money is is where the press is, and whither goeth the press goeth the prestige.

Daytona, with the exception of the 1970 race, has always been won by a proven rider on a proven machine—and the only area of doubt in 1970 was Mann's Honda, Bugs himself having been established as a top-liner for, oh, ten or fifteen years. New machinery tends to go belly-up at Daytona, regardless of the manufacturers' previous associations with competition. The really fast Triumph Threes stunk up the place in 1970, along with the bulk of the Honda team (even Mann's Four was well within the clutches of rigor-mortis by the end of the race). The new iron-headed OHV Harleys puked that year, victims of excessive combustion chamber temperatures and inadequate heat dissipation. The year before, despite the fact that they were the fastest bikes there, the Yamahas hadn't been fast for long enough, and Cal Rayborn won with his side-valve Harley—going slower than he had the year before, when he also won. His Harley was slower because it had been "improved." Daytona will not stand too many improvements.

Why is the 200-miler so brutish? Because of the banking.The bikes work about 120 miles on the oval part of the course, and the banking means that those 120 miles are run wide-open. If it takes the bikes a half-mile to get up to top speed, the bikes are delivering absolute top speed for just under 100 miles, and dealing with the consequences of that kind of strain: outrageous engine temperatures, vibration, frame and suspension component flexure, rider fatigue, brake wear and fade. Daytona is the toughest arena of all.

Cal Rayborn: 8-1.

Rayborn can probably go around Daytona faster and more consistently than any man in the world. He knows the track, he knows how to win, he's not afraid to win, he knows how to concentrate and bear down for 200 miles and two hours, and he has an ungodly ability to recover a bike that's sliding and in trouble. He's been with Harley-Davidson for a long time, and Dick O'Brien knows how to set up Cal's bike just . . . so, especially for Daytona.

The only question-mark here is the bike itself, or, more accurately, the engine, which is all-new for 1972. Aluminum cylinders and cylinder-heads ought to solve H-D's twoyear-old overheating problem, the engine has lost 17 pounds of top-end weight which should make the bike easier to ride, the chassis is a known quantity, and so are the brakes—although a disc in front ought to be incorporated by Daytona.

Still, the engine is brand new, and Daytona doesn't like anything it hasn't seen before. But if the track changes its mind and clasps the new XR to its asphalt bosom, Rayborn could take it all. One thing for sure: the XRs will be dreadfully fast, and as well-proven as any new bike can be without actually having dealt with the track.

Mark Brelsford: 9-1.

Mark is almost as fast as Calvin at Daytona, and his equipment will be identical. Like Cal, Brelsford isn't afraid to win, and isn't willing to settle for second if he has a shot at first-place—as he demonstrated at Laconia last year. But he lacks Calvin's experience, and it is important that he has never won at Daytona.

To make up for it, Brelsford is astonishingly cool, a superior tactician, and knows what's going on around him and in front of him. If Mark took it all, it wouldn't be that much of a surprise. As with Calvin, his equipment is the decider.

Who'll be Close?

Yvon duHamel: 10-1.

Canadians think Yvon is the best in the world, the second coming of John Surtees, a tiny, muscular version of Giacomo Agostini. Yvon goes like a bullet—in his own words, "boom-boom-fast." Contrary to pre-Ontario opinion-makers, Yvon did not rocket away like a crazed elf and run off the track, a reputation he earned a while back but seems to be beyond now. Yvon is mature as a road-racer, extraordinarily rapid, merciless in traffic, and without nerves. With the above in his favor, duHamel doesn't have to be much of a tactician, and isn't. The likelihood of his doing something silly at Daytona diminishes as he banks his fires a little, and Yvon has his fires—and his rat—well under control. Now, duHamel is nothing but fast.

But his machinery is, again, the big question-mark. Unless something ridiculous happens, he should find himself aboard a new Kawasaki 750cc Mach Four at Daytona, which might be producing a healthy 90 horsepower. Neat for Yvon. But how will it handle at 170 mph? How will the brakes and suspension work? And most important, how thirsty will it be? His 500 used to get about eight to ten miles per gallon. Unless the 750

is radically detuned its mileage will be even worse. Yvon, and everybody else on a Kawasaki, had to stop twice for gas last year—they may have to stop three times this year.

There is a possibility, though, that duHamel will be bolted onto his 1971 500. It may be his best yet. ►