THAT WAS THEN. THIS IS NOW?

written by Luce Linkage

ELMA, Washington (August 24, 2002) Since we had the weekend off of car racing, we decided to go and watch our friends’ children flattrack motorcycle race in the afternoon. Now when I first met my hubby and his friends, this was the exact form of racing they did twenty plus years ago, and had even done so at the very track we were attending. Armed with UVEX sunglasses and sunscreen, we tromped through the pits like old pros!

The evening had 'the big kid races', too, so it was a nice trip down memory lane. My youngest son of eleven laughed so hard he nearly wet his pants when my husband told him I used to start the bikes, etc. He was having a problem getting a visual of his Mom running and hopping on a 250 flattracker to get it started, let alone changing gearing especially since my pit duties with the race car of present were a little different.

It was nice to see that more girls are racing motorcycles than say twenty years ago. When I helped my husband-then boyfriend, the majority of women in the pit area were referred to as “pit tootsies”. I was an odd one because I actually got dirty and helped with the bikes, wasn’t there to stand around and look pretty, or try to get a date, and did so with perfectly manicured nails! If a fellow racer came looking to borrow tools, they didn’t need to wait for my boyfriend to return. I was perfectly capable of getting them out of the toolbox on my own.

During the mains last night, I learned a new 'politically correct' term for the "Old Timers" class! They were the "40+ Open. They're old enough to know better but don't really care." So it dawned on me when Randy Skiver, former National #35 was in one of the events, we are all getting OLD! I told my husband that I didn’t think he (my hubby) or any of his buddies could physically survive the heat races let alone the main events anymore! Not to mention, that I doubt I could run fast enough to start the bikes! (THAT wasn’t even a visual I needed to see!)

Many fond memories flooded my head as we sat in those grandstands. Remembering fellow competitors, visuals of the paint schemes of the bikes, some of the best road trips – all in the name of racing. Ah, but the roar of a
four-stroke, with the smell of Trick gas and dust miles high, knowing that black boogers are just on the horizon...was pause for the greatest reflection of all…

BEING PART OF A TEAM. I am grateful to my husband and his friends for letting me BE part of the pit crew whether it was the motorcycle of then or the car of now. I know there were times they got snickers and teasing, but it didn’t bother them. And it doesn’t bother them today, either. I was and still am considered part of their race teams. They were ahead of their time back then. Heck, might even still be considered ahead of their time now!