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►The 1969 American
Motocross Team of Ron Nelson, John "Cobra" DeSoto, and Manager Hoppy Hopkins had
quite a sendoff. When they boarded their flight for Barcelona last February, Dan
Gurney was at the gate, along with Dick Smothers, the executive assistant to
Mayor Yorty, three dozen eminent but irrepressible motorcycling purists, and
about $36,000 worth of encouragement.
The American Motocross Team project had gotten under way in
1965 as an idea in the minds of Kim Kimball and Dan Gurney. It was planned,
nurtured, and cultivated quietly: Gurney is a purist with a purpose. Although
Stirling Moss had claimed long ago that Gurney would be a world champion in
Grand Prix auto racing, and although Phil Hill said six months ago that Gurney
is still the greatest driver on the track, his refusal of rides in
assured-winner cars denied him the championship, but it brought an American car
prominently into Grand Prix racing. Now he is bringing an American team into
world championship motorcycle racing.
Gurney is
not a fanatical flag-waver, but the implications in the titles of his
All-American Racers and the American Motocross Team are not simply coincidental.
The AMT is meant to be a United States effort, and it's good that the team
riders happen to be Nelson and Desoto. Had Gurney created them in his own image,
they could not more precisely fit the specs of the ideal athletic hero. They
don't smoke, they don't drink, and they're both handsome enough to carry on the
current fad of becoming super-sports-flick-stars when they quit racing.
The AMT
became possible when Gurney bought a Montesa motorcycle for himself, became
interested in the brand, and invested in Kim Kimball's U.S. distributorship of
Montesa. In November of 1965 Kimball and Gurney were in England at the Earl's
Court motorcycle show, when they learned that a major motocross event was about
to take place at Chard. There they watched with awe as world champion class
riders plied their sport at a level of competence far beyond that of anyone back
home. "Nobody in America can touch these guys," remarked Gurney. "Let's get
something started."
Meanwhile,
in the southwest, Ron Nelson was rapidly acquiring a superstar reputation. He
had broken his leg three times, and also his neck, but he had won Southern
California's biggest scrambles event—the Corriganville 500cc class—three times,
and gained over 48 other wins within two years. At the same time, DeSoto was
showing promise in Hawaii. Too young to be old hat, he would be valuable as a
future name.
Gurney and
Kimball hired both of these young men, sent them into the desert, and drilled
them mercilessly for motocross racing—Nelson for 500cc events, and Desoto for
the 250cc class. By 1968, both riders were national motocross champions, having
captured their respective classes throughout the grueling 1967 Inter-Am series—a
group of motocross races from coast to coast patterned after auto racing's
popular Trans-Am and Can-Am programs. Nelson and Desoto now fad style,
showmanship, and success, but they still hadn't locked horns with the European
champs.
Then, on
July 4th, 1968, they got their chance at the Firecracker 500 event at Saddleback
Park: the four-time world-champion, Torsten Hallman, was entered. The crowd at
Saddleback went wild when Nelson took the lead and held it at a steady interval,
lap after lap. Then, in the last lap, Hallman slipped into the lead to take the
race. But, it had been shown that the American Motocross Team was able to mix it
up with world champion motocross riders.
Joe
Parkhurst, publisher of Cycle World, got the ball rolling by donating money to
the AMT fund. Kimball and Gurney used his example to solicit donations from
other prominent sportsmen, and contributed heavily themselves. Within a couple
of months the team had received expense money to participate in eight European
races, seven of which would be Grand Prix events:
The team had
qualified riders and expense money; now it needed a manager. A good motocross
season in Europe covers 15,000 miles and some logistics problems that would send
the average novice crawling ho me —problems like the snake-oil salesmen who
follow the motocross crowd and fleece the inde- pendent rookie on parts and
supplies; or promoters who exploit the language barrier for a five-fold increase
in fees; or the breakage of some rare part, for which the replacement is to be
found either in the factory three countries away or in the back of an abandoned
garage in an obscure village on the other side of the mountains.► |
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| ◄Hoppy
Hopkins is a legend. He uses archaic terms like "losing the lime" and has
learned more by bad example than any other motocross racer, but he has seen it
all during years on the European motocross circuit. He didn't win, but he did
learn survival, so Gurney and Kimball hired him to ramrod the American Motocross
Team, to be the cagiest team chief in Europe. Now the team was complete. As Nelson,
DeSoto, and Hopkins prepared to leave for Europe last February, only a handful
of the dedicated were there to see them off; the rest of America sat glued to
its TV sets, following the approved American sports. But for Nelson and Desoto,
this moment was glory. The city of Los Angeles had officially honored them, and
the people who were there to see them off were people who counted.
March 30th,
1969, at Jonzac, France marked the first entry of the team in European
competition. Things looked very encouraging for most of the race: Desoto ran
fifth for six laps, and Nelson got into fourth place. But both riders spilled,
dropping Desoto to eighth in his class, and Nelson to tenth overall. Com-
petition in the race was feverish; 35 riders started, but less than half of them
finished. Stan Lundin, a former world champion, only finished third—and he
considered himself lucky.
The
impressive debut of the American team received plenty of press coverage across
the Continent, so they were eagerly greeted by spectators at a Good Friday race
in Hants-Grand, England, where they would compete against 30 of the world's top
riders. But the bikes had not as yet been sorted out completely, and a
combination of carburetion and handling problems eliminated them.
Three days
later at Soucelles, France, Nelson ran a consistent fifth until a pawky
adversary put him into the fence on the last lap.
The
glory of a money finish continued to escape the American team, but they
were gaining respect in all countries. At the 250cc Spanish Grand Prix
in Barcelona, giggling girls mobbed them to ask for their autographs,
and promising to remember them next year. The Barcelona course was
formidable, a washboard pounded into a hillside that is too hard to
support grapes or goats. From the moment the flag dropped, Desoto was a
darkhorse hero. The crowd was agog as he bounced and shuddered over the
agonizing course, picking off several riders each lap. The attrition was
relentless: 48 started, 11 finished—but Cobra Desoto worked his way into
second place behind 011e Pettersson. He made his move to pass Pettersson
where even the most proficient pros hesitate—over a jump. Cobra's
passion predominated: he flew too far and flipped end over end down the
track.
Misfortune continued to follow Nelson
and Desoto for 17 events; then came a success greater than expected at
Vannes, France. It was the first race without incident for the American
riders, and Ron Nelson finished third overall.
Considering the difficulty of competing successfully in European
motocross, the season was an admirable first showing for the American
team. The challenge remains, but much of the research is now complete.
Optimism is higher than ever before, and a world championship title for
the United States can only be a matter of time, perhaps closer than
anyone had anticipated.
Stateside sportswriters had yawned when Nelson and Desoto signed as the
original riders for the 1969 American Motocross Team. But the outlook is
changing. Baseball is fading fast in favor of car racing. Motorcycle
racing can begin to share the limelight soon. At Pepperell, Mass. where
this year's Inter-Am series opened on Oct. 19th, ABC's Wide World of
Sports covered the event for the first time. The innate excitement in
cycling puts it on the threshhold of super sports status, and a
concerted effort by a successful motocross team could guarantee it.
"There is nothing, absolutely nothing," said Dan Gurney, "that demands
so much from a man, physically, as a hair-raising motocross." He ought
to know. ■ |
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Competition 
