OK. Look at this photo.

This is why we came.

This is why I got up on Thursday morning and drove all day through Oregon (donating $260 to local law enforcement) and drove all night with Dirk to the famed place of kickass 70s Races: CARNEGIE outside Livermore, California.

We arrived at 130am. We drove till 1:30am when we were finally in Livermore. Dirk¹s mapquest printout only got us to Livermore itself, and the fellow at the gas station had never heard of Carnegie, no clue.

The next gas station was closed, the next had a similar guy who was totally uninterested in helping anyone who couldn¹t help him, Heard of Carnegie? No. Famous Motocross Course? No.
Ya know- MOTOCROSS? No.
Racing. Motorcycles. No.
Do you know anything? Do you know where you are? No.
Do you know that I am ALLAH? No.
Do you have a phone book? No.

PHONE BOOK! I said sharply. Oh yes, we have that -

Really I probably should have been more polite, but the guy's attitude was a bit much after an 18 hours drive.

He handed me the phone book, then leaned back and chewed on a plastic straw, and looked about. (as though there was something else to look at inside the plastic interior) The map on page 37 showed the park and I said see?

The guy couldn¹t have cared less. I drew the map on a receipt, and we drove off into the hills, but none of the roads looked right, and in about half an hour we returned and bought a map, and I saw that we¹d gone the wrong way. We drove right out of the suburbs, and into blank hills- grassy- a few small trees.

About half an hour later we arrive at a few signs, some locked gates, and find our way into a parking lot, with no sign of our guys, and Dirk says well we¹ll sleep here.

I got out and looked about for a place to put my pad. But it was about 40 degrees outside and raining, and after looking at some bushes and maybe under the truck, I looked at Dirk who said hmmm- I forgot about that part. So we slept in the cab, sort of sitting up, with the seat folded back.

above: by later Friday afternoon we'd worked towards the far one of the track

right: Bill & Dan adjusting

FRIDAY • Clouds rolled in- and I mean really dark clouds, in the cold distance a wildcat did growl, and two riders were approaching and the wind began to howl. Really it was just us, and we found that we were only a few hundred yards from the boys. Erik Carter unlocked the gate, welcomed us in, and we unloaded the bikes.

The day went like this: JP Morgan had laid out the track before we got there, and Dirk, Dan Wilson, Bill Cappel & I joined the other Dan (Dan? are you out there?) The rain had turned the ground into muck- the kind that leaves a sandwich thick hunk of mud on your boots.

Nevertheless the haybales arrived and into Dirk's pickup (now with a fresh engine) they went. Dirk's shoe stuck in the mud & disappeared under the haybale pile while the work was underway- (if you look closely you can see that he is in bare feet, after giving up and was unloading haybales in bare feet)

There was a ton of track prep to do, so DAN WILSON (seen talking to Bill Cappel on right) read the instructions on the rental dozer that Post Vintage Rider STEVE JERKO had donated, and we worked all day.

NEXT DAY WAS SATURDAY