jaylael

You mean rodeo riding where you can't shut off the throttle while your bike yanks you down a cliff or embankment with violent authority? That is truly a scary experience. Makes my bones ache just (remembering) thinking about it!

"If you get too cold I'll tax the heat, if you take a walk I'll tax your feet...' (The Beatles)

Right Copey, I'll try some Advil. Glad to hear I'm not the only one with some physical issues. Today I am going in to get fitted for hearing aids. "Eh, sonny? Can't quite hear ya' properly." Now it's my turn to look silly.

Those thirty something year old guys really hate it when I beat them. I am 48 by the way. One guy (Odus)whined, "Jay Lael can't hardly even walk, but he can still kick my a$$!" That always feels good. In my motocross club (VDR) there are at least two guys over 50 who are faster than anybody youngsters included. Nevermind they are both legends in the sport. (Randy Skyver and Doug Hafsos) Some guys age better than others. I have seen guys who have lost their hair and have a big gut by age 25 and these other guys who look like super men at 50. I have lost the best part of my hearing at this point, and use reading glasses for close up work, and can hardly walk due to so many injuries. That is tough to get used to. I wonder if a hip replacement surgery is in my future.

When I read the topic title I thought, "now there's a topic I can get into!" I am for darn sure getting old! I realize there are loads of guys who are older than me who will testify that it isn't a bed of roses when you can't hardly walk, and think you're going to ride your trials bike up some giant rock or something. Sometimes I just feel lucky to be able to get through an ordinary day. Getting old, now there is a good topic! Shercrazy, why don't you tell us a bit about getting old?

Krash. you must realize that Lane had stepped over the line in so many ways, so many times thus angering many influencial members of TC, way beyond just Andy. If the public outcry is sufficient, TC members can be "voted off the island", but no one is trying to tell you what you can and cannot say. Any sensible person can see that you can't go around insulting the powerful members of society without paying for it. Lane was not all that sensible when it came to this reality. He couldn't see the invisible fences. There is no reason to blame Andy. He is only the messenger in this case.

You'll have an objection about that comment....I did hear that "Family Friends" had a slightly different definition over there though Several years back I was talking with some co-workers about my plans to travel to a family reunion, when a mechanic named Curtis said, "They've got some pretty good looking women at those family reunions". The service writer Jim replied, "Curtis, you have got to be the only guy I know who goes to family reunions to pick up chicks". (That was before I heard Jeff Foxworthy say the same joke) Anyway I went to the family get together and darned if Curtis wasn't right. I have some long lost second cousins that could make a guy ponder an incestuous relationship. My stunningly beautiful second cousin and I were laughing about this, when her father said that several generations back it was not all that un-common to find second cousins getting married. He said there were two brothers who married sisters, back a ways in our family heritage. Now this isn't the type of thing you'd go around bragging about, but it IS a fact none the less. (It's probably a good thing I wasn't around her much while growing up or I could have fallen in love with her quite easily) That is when my uncle Louis took the opportunity to tell a joke. A guy was getting ready to find himself a wife, and he was starting to show some interest in is young cousin. His father tried to explain that he really should look a bit further afield for a wife. The son replied, "What do you expect me to do, marry a stranger?"

You forgot Oregon's Dennis Sweeten. He has been qietly doing well at the Scottish for several years. I think his deal is a bike rental from Sandifords. He said the whole package with bike, rooms, food and entry was about $5000.00 per person. According to him it was money well spent. Who that alot of money toget such a thrashing, freeze half to death, eat haggis, and be hungover for a month. I am so jealous! Also some americans have been turned away so they do a fair drawing unless you have some sort of reasonably impressive record or credentials. Very ambiguous who gets past the drawing. It helps to be famous or in the business.

Terri Clark! Now there's a fine example of a proper cowgirl, although I think she's a Canadian. Looks good in leather pants and a cowboy hat, and plays a pretty decent guitar. I read that she likes to hang out in her remote mountain cabin with her dog. Sounds like a pretty cool person to me.

At last a word from the master. So you're saying that English women won't kick the c**p out of you then?

Here in America copenhagen is chewing tobacco. What would we know about the duke of Wellington? (WHO?) I know from personal experience plenty of rodeo cowgirls who chew tobacco and spit. There is a Chris LeDoux song called "copenhagen Angel" which says it all. "She can ride a bareback horse and she can really stick it to a bull, she never misses her saddle bronc out and she can ride 'm like a spurrin' fool! She's my snuice queen, she's my Beech Nut Bunny She's my Copenhagen Angel..." Rodeo women are a rough bunch and will not hesitate to kick your a$$ is you have it comin'. Gotta love 'em. I figure ol' copemech knows a bit about copenhagen angels but he ain't sayin'.

Would you kiss her then?

I was listening to Pink Floyd awhile ago and there is a part where a California blonde is saying, "This place is bigger than our apartment. Are all these your guitars? Wanna' take a baaaath? Are you feelin' ok?" and it occured to me how dumb she must sound to the average brit. (she sounds a bit daft to me) Oh please pray tell how does a Chavette speak then? Also Copemech, tell us more about Texas women who spit. I picture Anna Nicole Smith with a great lip full of Copenhagen, leaning on a fence at a rodeo.

I haven't seen the lasses get weak in the knees when someone says "aboot". I have seen them melt like butter in the hot sun when Ishy gives them the yorkeshire lingo though. I realize blanket statements are ridiculous and usually untrue, but I just wanted a little bit of light hearted banter. God knows no one can figure out women, english or otherwise eh? Just like all American men don't live in trailer houses and look like they should be on Jerry Springer. It takes all kinds. I for one am a complete fool for a woman with an english accent. Wish I knew one.

Some of us are desperately curious to know what those gals are all about on the other side of the pond. I know the obvious difference is the way they talk, but are they really more discerning and demanding of their men? I read a bit about the subject and one American woman said that American men are "substandard, chauvanistic rejects who live in trailer houses and scratch themselves", and that they "have no redeeming qualities". She said that "no self respecting English woman would have anything to do with an American man". Now I have observed that American women are usually very interested in English men. They hear them talk and go all wobbly. I wonder what happens to English women when they hear an American man talking. Do they find us charming or simply boorish louts? Feel free to make semi crude jokes as I know you will.

Thanks for the kind words gentlemen. I have aspired for some time to be a writer of sorts, especially since my skills as a rider seem to be slipping very badly as I am approaching 50 years of age. I must say I will miss Lane's irritating comments. They don't call him Eddie Haskell for nothing. (Google it)

We can't very well have Lane endlessly blaming the poor hard working NATC for the fact that Yanks can't (or won't) cut the mustard on the world scene. I am not convinced that it's they who are holding back our collective success as world class trials riders. Yes they could have done more to promote our success on the world stage, but Wiltz has been called a visionary for a good reason. Unless you were there at the time you can't fully appreciate the effect that "professional" trials teams had on the championship. What Lane has said many times is how the big factories spent money on trials thus creating this pressure to perform. This is TRUE! Every snot nosed screwball with a trials bike wanted to become a factory superstar, including me! Wiltz was there (as was Lane) when I was trying to ride nationals with a broken leg that was darn near gangrenous, in order to attract the mythical factory sponsorship. I think Wiltz could see the folly in this cruel system that may have rewarded such insane behaviour. Wiltz was there and the kind human side of him convinced me to go HOME! Mind you my leg was purple and green and had a hinge where there isn't supposed to be a hinge and I was trying to ride nationals! I think Wiltz saw this pressure as counterproductive to the common good of American Trials riders. So what if we don't win any big championships abroad? I applaud the decisions those guys made way back then, and although Lane makes some good points I think he is missing the big picture in many ways. He knows the formula for success at world trials, and therefore should be minding someone to succeed at that level on a personal basis. His success at teaching trials surpassed his skills at riding trials. He can't just shut that off, but he is expecting the rest of American Trials riders to jump on his bandwagon. What he isn't telling us is the cost in human suffering that goes with that olympic like level of dedication. With that in mind, I am thankful that the professional trials teams have for the most part faded into oblivion here in America. Wiltz, my hat is off to you sir. I still say you were right.

I was a victim, (or) owner of one of these horrible machines. I have resisted making comments because "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all", however I feel compelled to try and share my terrible experiences with this awful ******* of a motorcycle. Where does one begin to explain how an isideously horrible bike can unwind your riding success and almost your very life. I took delivery of my 1988 Cota 307 and was delighted to uncrate the machine out back of the local Montesa dealership, on a thursday evening, just before heading up north to the Canadian Nationals. That was my mistake, believing I could uncrate and assemble a new bike and go directly to the toughest trials event around. The minute details of the whole adventure are trivial, but the large picture amounts to a list of heartbreaking failures including, the front disc bolts came out, sawing a hole in the lower fork leg, dousing the front disc with fork oil, while very high up on mountain, the electronic ignition was going out causing bad missfires and frequent plug fouling, the timing was off as well as the jetting so it lacked power and ran poorly, then the pilot jet came out while riding a section. That was only the first day. Once all these little problems were solved I had the idea that my troubles were behind me and the fun could begin. That is when I found out about the king daddy of the problems this bike came from the factory with. The snap ring groove on the end of the mainshaft for securing the kickstarter idler gear was machined too shallow, resulting in the gear coming off the shaft, thus breaking the related gears and filling the clutch cover with broken gear teeth and other crunchy metal bits. This was "repaired" thrice, before the cost and availability of Montesa kickstarter idler gears became an insurmountable problem. I can assure you this problem could have been repaired before the carnage began, if I had the knowledge patience and good sense to completely go through the bike before riding it, but in my defense I feel this should not have been needed. Now that Montesas are made with oversight from Honda engineers, they are the toughest, best running bikes around, but the earlier Spanish ones seemed to really suffer from employee apathy around 1988 when the HRC takeover was being implemented for the first time. Thank God those days are passed. JL

I worked at an OSSA dealership at that time. We sold at least two of these, (BLT) and to my understanding they were modified here in America. When you uncrated them you could see how someone had taken a 1976 350 MAR, and bodged this onto it, adding spray can silver paint over the welds and additional iron work. Just beneath the surface of the spray paint you could see the grinder marks and burned original paint. I thought the bikes worked quite well especially in mud sections, they had a mystical ability to grip. I have always thought the fulcrum suspension transferred upward motion into bites of traction, as the upward force was reverserd back down. Either that or it was placebo effect. At the 1977 USA nationals at Watkins Glenn NY, OSSA test rider, Jerry Young (Ryan Young's Dad) offered me a rev on his works version of this bike. This bike still featured a fiberglass tank, painted dark brown metallic, and handmade alloy sidepanels. (airbox) Jerry Young was winning alot of nationals at that time in the senior class. The following spring the BLT OSSA's began arriving at dealerships. They used KONI rear shock absorbers, and had switched to a more restrictive airbox and a slightly smaller mikuni carb. I never thought they ran as well as the round bodied amal on the '76 350 ones did. One of the local experts in our trials club rode a Bolger OSSA to a handful of minor victories before moving on to a Montesa Cota 349. It was Curt Comer's national championship winning 1980 bike. It had the big ugly gas tank with the sight glass thing on the side. He was also very good on that bike. OK now I'm just rambling as I have a bad cold right now. JL

ORV Tags and spark arrestor.

Somewhere amid vast sheaves of government (ODF) rhetoric, I recall reading that if your bike starts a fire for any reason, which results in the loss of property and or human life, it is then entirely your responsibility to prove that you had the correct and adequate spark arrestor on there, in a court of law. That means whenever we ride on public lands, or perform our duties as trials marshalls, we are personally risking being sued by the government, as a means to recoup the expense in fighting the fire you caused, and to recoup the property damage, which I'm sure you are aware can amount to billions. This makes having a "cone of silence" on your bike a real bargain at whatever price they are. I can see the practicality of not burning down the forest etc, but what I can't see is why it is up to me the trials rider to pay for it, install it and maintain it, when the bike ought to come with it stock, even if it is mandated by law and we are forced to buy them as a part of the price of the bike. What I am trying to say is, can't we have an integral spark arrestor that looks like it was designed to be part of the bike and not some ugly little funnel hose clamped to the tailpipe? Should a $5895.00 (and up) trials machine have some cobbled looking crap bodged onto it by the poor hapless owner? In a perfect world they would be on there already, and they would look nice too. It amounts to pride of ownership. These bikes are like eye candy, and a stupid cone thing just ruins the look of the bike totally.

Now spark arrestors, that is a subject I can really get angry about! The stupid little "cone of silence" that is mandated by uncle sammy, and the fact that proper trials bikes don't come with one stock. Take a perfectly good trials bike and f**k it all up with that ugly bugger on there. I'd sooner stay home if it comes to that, and quite often it does.

That's so funny! Reminds me of a similar story. Two years ago some of our readers may recall that I had a mishap while racing vintage motocross at Port Angeles Washington, breaking my left foot bones in multiple places. After partaking in two donated vicodin pain pills, I was placed in the back out our van and left to ride in relative comfort with an ice bag on my foot, for about 5 hours ride back home to Portland. Luckily my good friend and fellow vintage racer, the young lad, Jubal Brown was with us on this trip and he drove us home with smooth confident driving skill, which was nice as in the condition I was in I sure didn't need to be agitated by wild scary driving. After several hours time we needed to stop for gas, dinner and a bathroom break. I was in pretty bad shape and my foot was swelled up very badly, but boy did I need to go to the bathroom! We spotted a McDonalds restaurant adjacent to the gas station, so after fueling up the van, we parked at the "mickey D's" and my wife and Jubal helped me to hop into the resaurant. Jubal helped me to hop with some urgency into the bathroom, where I stood on my good leg at the urinal and relieved myself, I could not help but groan very loudly with relief, but it was hard to stay standing and I nearly fell over, so Jubal grabbed me to prevent a fall and said, "You okay there big guy?" Just at that exact moment a mexican fellow came into the bathroom and caught us in a sort of embace while my pants were partway down. He spun on his heels and retreated with a horrified expression, and I wanted to yell to his retreating back, that "We're not gay!", but it was pointless. He was long gone, and he probably didn't habla the ingles anyway.

What a hilarious mental image! Reminds me of those ridiculous "Ernest goes to____" movies where he was shown as a baby, only with Lane's face on. Now that's funny!