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I just can't get enough of this stuff...... Don Johns was known for his "hell bent for election" riding style and this pic shows the dust he could throw up on a dirt track. It was taken at the Rose City Track in Portland, Oregon circa 1914. It really is quite impressive on how he approached a race.......... wide open all the way around! Other racers would cut the ignition coming into the turn and then crank it up coming out. Not Johns! He held it to the pin from start to finish or until the machine disintegrated, whichever came first! It was against the rules to put your feet down so he pulled off slides purely by wrestling the machine around the turn! I can't think of a more exciting time in motorcycle history. Boardtracks had their challenges, but riding on the dusty dirt tracks was a whole 'nother ball game!
Here's a quote submitted by Jim Earp from the Winter '91 issue of the Antique Motorcycle on Johns. It references his last race and the kind of character that Johns was. I figured I'd share it with those that may not have read "The Fabulous Johns" article.
"But Johns wasn't quite through with racing. In July of 1918 a Red Cross meet was staged in Grand Island, Nebraska. The town was the greatest horse and mule market of the United States, so it boomed during the war and the crowd at the meet was huge. The Hendee Company asked Johns to ride for them and he accepted.
At the track they unpacked two machines -No. 50 and No. 78- that had been stored since January 1, 1917. Things generally went a little wrong at the start. Hillard, a rider on the Excelsior team, had a nasty fall; his goggles broke and filled his face with glass and his foot got caught under the crankcase of the sliding machine and ground his ankle to the bone. In addition, Johns was coasting into the pits on the morning of the race, going very slowly, when suddenly the machine just slid out from under him. He was very surprised to find himself on the ground. He wasn't hurt much at the time but later his knee started swelling badly.
A gas line on No. 78 broke before the 25-mile event, so Johns never did get onto it. They sent a man into town for a new gas line and ran all the automobile events and played the band to hold the crowd until the machine could be repaired. Johns was so embarrassed that he asked them to start the race without him. They would not consider it.
Finally the race started and Johns assumed the lead immediately. But the tires had been stored so long, he was afraid of them. He raced very carefully and had no trouble until, at about 75 miles, a very good rider on an eight-valve Harley began to challenge. "He was very persistent. I don't know his name, but I remember he had a marvelous mustache. Well, I wasn't going to lose that race because of old rubber, so I got this fellow in the back stretch with a couple of good hooks and sent him picking corn. He never was closer than a quarter of a mile from then on.
"I continued then driving as carefully as I could and watching the fabric start to show through those tires. I probably used my head more that day than I ever did before in my life. Then at 99 miles I began running low on gas. With about a pint of gas sloshing around the flat bottom of that four-gallon tank, the engine started missing. That guy with the mustache would have won for sure, only right then he broke a rocker arm and I took the event... I even went an extra lap after the flag to cinch it... I was glad to see that one end. I was out of shape and my hands were so blistered that I couldn't sleep that night and had to call a doctor."
Boy, I'm glad I've got a place to share my ramblings. Nobody else in my house gets too excited when I get to blabbering about old races, old race bikes and the colorful characters that rode them.
Here's a quote submitted by Jim Earp from the Winter '91 issue of the Antique Motorcycle on Johns. It references his last race and the kind of character that Johns was. I figured I'd share it with those that may not have read "The Fabulous Johns" article.
"But Johns wasn't quite through with racing. In July of 1918 a Red Cross meet was staged in Grand Island, Nebraska. The town was the greatest horse and mule market of the United States, so it boomed during the war and the crowd at the meet was huge. The Hendee Company asked Johns to ride for them and he accepted.
At the track they unpacked two machines -No. 50 and No. 78- that had been stored since January 1, 1917. Things generally went a little wrong at the start. Hillard, a rider on the Excelsior team, had a nasty fall; his goggles broke and filled his face with glass and his foot got caught under the crankcase of the sliding machine and ground his ankle to the bone. In addition, Johns was coasting into the pits on the morning of the race, going very slowly, when suddenly the machine just slid out from under him. He was very surprised to find himself on the ground. He wasn't hurt much at the time but later his knee started swelling badly.
A gas line on No. 78 broke before the 25-mile event, so Johns never did get onto it. They sent a man into town for a new gas line and ran all the automobile events and played the band to hold the crowd until the machine could be repaired. Johns was so embarrassed that he asked them to start the race without him. They would not consider it.
Finally the race started and Johns assumed the lead immediately. But the tires had been stored so long, he was afraid of them. He raced very carefully and had no trouble until, at about 75 miles, a very good rider on an eight-valve Harley began to challenge. "He was very persistent. I don't know his name, but I remember he had a marvelous mustache. Well, I wasn't going to lose that race because of old rubber, so I got this fellow in the back stretch with a couple of good hooks and sent him picking corn. He never was closer than a quarter of a mile from then on.
"I continued then driving as carefully as I could and watching the fabric start to show through those tires. I probably used my head more that day than I ever did before in my life. Then at 99 miles I began running low on gas. With about a pint of gas sloshing around the flat bottom of that four-gallon tank, the engine started missing. That guy with the mustache would have won for sure, only right then he broke a rocker arm and I took the event... I even went an extra lap after the flag to cinch it... I was glad to see that one end. I was out of shape and my hands were so blistered that I couldn't sleep that night and had to call a doctor."
Boy, I'm glad I've got a place to share my ramblings. Nobody else in my house gets too excited when I get to blabbering about old races, old race bikes and the colorful characters that rode them.
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