Page 48 - AZ Extreme - AEM Volume 8 Issue 2
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been instrumental in making this event   the story goes, it bogged a little on the
  happen, and continue to happen. I turned to Butch and told him that’s my friend from Phoenix who came to track with us, and he related how he’d thought Dave was a possible serial killer who preys on old motocrossers. We laughed for a long time . . . but I know the truth: Dave does kind of prey on old motocrossers, selling them bike parts and accessories.
Saturday morning, the event kind of took a dark turn. When we got to the track after the tornado (yes, it WAS a tornado), the six EZ Ups that we had at the track were totally destroyed. One of our guys who was camped there tried to hang on to an EZ-Up and suddenly it was gone. So he tried to hang on to another, same thing. He gave up and sought cover. Fortunately, nobody was injured. The bright spot was our friend Bobby Hedge who took second place (on a Maico, of course). Bobby is the guy who supplies all the bikes to the guys in our group who come from all over the world without bikes to ride. Unfortunately, he broke his collarbone or scapula and six ribs in practice on Sunday. I really hope he makes it to the regional qualifiers for Loretta Lynn’s in late June. Good luck, my friend.
first try, so he decided he needed a lot more RPM on the second try. It did not go well: the bike stood up and he freaked out and put out his leg, which dug into the ground and basically destroyed his lower leg and knee. It kind of changed Tom’s travel plans for the way home, as he had to drive his brother to Huntsville, AL and then fly home to Washington.
Fortunately, the evening went better. The BBQ was great: the food was on time, and very good – we even had enough for lunch the next day. The beans were awesome, the potato salad was really good . . . do you get the feeling I really liked the place? If not, you should.
Then it was video time, which was
cool. Ken had a bunch of pix from
Okinawa, but it was difficult to see
them at the track. I had brought a DVD
video, which everyone enjoyed, but the
comments soon turned from “Hey, that’s
Dan,” to “Oh man, not Dan again.”
Remember guys, if you don’t want
a slide show to be all about Dan (or
anyone, for that matter), you gotta bring   Texas chain restaurant. But our ladies   So he asked me to come and pick him your own show.
Sunday is the big Okinawa reunion race. Last year, we had the big sandbagger who won the 50+ Novice class on a ‘79 RM250. This year, however, they wouldn’t let him ride Novice again (surprise, I can’t understand why!) so he rode 50+ Intermediate, but on an ‘82 RM 125. Hiritaka ended up 4th overall, but only because he crashed in the first moto while in second. As a connoisseur of fine sandbagging, I think he could place in the Expert class . . . but don’t tell anyone.
  Another sad thing took place on
Saturday. My friend Tom’s brother Dave,
who used to hang around the track with
us in Okinawa, somehow decided that he
was going to race this year. Bear in mind,
that Dave was not a regular racer. You
know, going to big events like this will
do it to people, bringing on the thought
that ‘maybe I ought to race this year.’
(Hal & I don’t have this problem, we
don’t think we need to race motorcycles
any longer). So Dave went out to practice
starts on a hopped-up PE250 Suzuki. As   but which turned out to be just another   gotten such a good price on the flight.)
Sunday night we all went out to dinner at the Jalapeño Tree, which I thought would be real, authentic Mexican food,
All in all, it was a great time, with another new group of participants in our Pacers Motorcycle Club group. Hopefully, my story next year will be a little more boring. Or not, you never
sure had a good time – they really got into the margaritas and got pretty . . . well . . . trashed. But we had a good time, which is all that matters.
up, which I did. We had breakfast, and then to kill some of the ten hours before his flight, we drove out to Decatur and visited Cliff and Diane Piper. This gave Dave the chance to see the kind of place he should move into someday. We did get Dave to the airport in time for his flight, although he still had four hours to wait, as I wasn’t going to hang out past my 8:30 bedtime.
Monday morning rolled around, and
for some reason we had to get up damned
early. Why? Because Dave Boydstun has
an early flight out? We roust our dragging
asses out of bed and were on the road at
six. We hauled ass to Dallas, dropped
off Dave, Ken and the Okinawans, and
I figured I was done. Then the phone
rang. It was Dave. Seems he’d forgotten
the difference between AM and PM.
In reality, his flight wasn’t until 11:45
that night (and he wondered why he’d   know in Texas. v
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