Twenty 4 hours on a motorcycle is a true test of each man and machine, and undertaking it on a dirtbike about Glen Helen is one particular way to separate the men from the boys. Here, our own J. Burns gets his pal Jim Hatch and his cousin Craig a ride aboard Yamaha’s finest off-road machine for the fabled Dirt Rider 24-hour at Glen Helen. The year was 2003, the bike was the YZ-450F, and the trio’s tale of mixing it up with some of the greatest names in motorsports is under. For a lot more images of this adventure, be positive to go to the photo gallery.
The cousins Hatch do the 2003 Dirt Rider 24 hour at Glen Helen
By Jim Hatch Apr. 20, 2003
The strategy came to me while basking in the blue glow of the Television whilst watching dirt bike racing late one particular evening.
I would head to the bustling Hatch Illustration studios the subsequent morning and fire off a polite e-mail to Ken Faught, the Editor of Dirt Rider magazine. I would kindly ask for permission to attend the upcoming annual Dirt Rider 24-Hour event, a day-long flog of man and machine with a cast of thousands reading like the Who’s Who On Motorcycles. The e-mail came back immediately and the answer was “Yes you are welcome but you will have to bring your personal bikes”. Plan in motion I invited my cousin from my home state of New Jersey to fly out and take pleasure in the star-studded occasion with me. Then I began calling in dirt bike markers. Hmmm, Burns is an straightforward touch…
If only I still had that helmet, pull start, and paddle-on-tire brake system…
My cousin Craig was a key influential aspect in forming my lifelong obsession with motorcycles and ultimately my vehicle-based illustration career. When I was a young kid a visit to his house was magical, with the garage often filled with the most current motocross hardware, gear and parts strewn everywhere. I would stand in the doorway just staring in awe. Back residence my pull-start Briggs and Stratton powered mini-bike just didn’t cut it any longer in the woods of Northern Jersey. Craig and family answered my prayers when they unexpectedly showed up 1 morning with a brand new, beat-to-death, eight-year-old Honda CT-70 tied to the back of the family truckster. This extremely bike would launch a lifetime of riding and an endless stream of bikes for Both Craig and myself (many of which Hatch truly bought–Ed.). In spite of the reality that each of us have been riding our entire lives, we have in no way had the likelihood to ride together.
Cousin Craig back in the day. Behind him is the Hatch boyhood house.
This event was just the catalyst to get cousin to California and make it come about. Me in my mid 30s and Craig in his 40s, we weren’t getting any younger. This was it.
Invite secured, Cuz on the plane, one issue left, “Bring your personal bike.” I have my personal trusty Yamaha WR-400 but necessary one more ride. A call to my buddy the influential John P. Burns would lead me to a stunning brand new Yamaha YZ-450F we had hoped to be able to report on the new 250F, but dirt bikes are challenging to come by and this spankin’ new bike would absolutely do. The strategy was to meet Johnny boy at Elsinore MX track, ride a handful of laps and transfer the massive YZ back to Hatch HQ. Possessing had the great fortune of attending the YZ launch in Texas earlier in the year I was somewhat familiar with the monster YZ. The Vet track at Elsinore was just my speed and I had a blast chasing younger Sprog Burns and Street Boy Johnny, when John was truly moving that is–but JB will have to tell you about that element.
IDIOT’S CORNER
By Johnnyb
That Mike Metzger can ride the wheels off these things. I cannot.
Ordinarily I know better than to ride dirt bikes, but I’ve had this little Yamaha TT-R125L for a year or two now, which I’ve been riding almost weekly in pursuit of the man-cub at the local “MX Park,” and so how diverse could the 450F be? Undoubtedly larger and a lot more effective, but now that my moto-hair plugs have somewhat taken root, how challenging could it be eh?
The distinction has to be like transitioning from Piper Cub to F-16. I know I’m not in wonderful shape, but are you telling me Hatch is? Appear at the man. Mainly the dilemma is I’m also quick. I know you require the eight feet of suspension travel for landings, given this thing’s remarkable vertical leap, but I for 1 would sacrifice a tiny suspension travel in exchange for not feeling like Hannibal crossing the Alps aboard an elephant. I adore throwing my TT-R on its side into corners, but that certainly ain’t happening for me on the 450, primarily since the ground is so far away. And I’m positive I’d find out not to stall the factor with practice, but each and every time I got sort of going in my short interlude with the bike, I would stall it. It is remarkably straightforward to start, hot or cold, but in order to do so I would very first have to push it to a berm or a stump or a crate to stand atop in order to start off it once again.
What a wonderful motor. When I consider Yamaha single, I’m thinking about my old SRX-six (XT600 to you dirt men and women). It’s tough to consider these two engines sprang from the identical loins. Apparently the thing revs beyond 11,000-some rpm, but it starts shredding knobs at about 250 rpm in this enormous wave of torque, aided I suppose by gearing that tops out at what? 80 mph possibly? It is like riding some bellowing tyrannosaur via the underbrush in a Jurassic Park film.
Anyway, by the time I’m on it and moving, I’m already tired. Stall it once, push, climb back on in these massive stupid boots, restart, I’m truly tired… I can do like half-a-lap and I have to rest. I tried to “break through the wall” as soon as, and was too weak to roll off the throttle approaching this a single huge jump. I believed for a moment I was going to jump fully out of Lake Elsinore MX Park. My eyes mos’ popped out de sockets. Amazingly, even though, the bike acted as if that was the first thing I’d done all day that remotely approached its capability. I consider it requirements a larger track, preferably one particular with guest docks each and every couple of turns I can pull up to to rest.
Right after all these years kicking Hatch’s butt on paved tracks, he has his revenge. Not for extended, although. I am very certain I can take his WR400 on my TT-R125 at the vet track. Yes, very. Bring it on Hatchquatch.
–John Burns
Craig Hatch (#42) once more, c. 1995, Englishtown, NJ. You lookin’ at me?
Fresh from the airport, truck laden with Cousin Craig, two bikes and gear, and so forth., down we headed from the Santa Barbara magic garden by means of the burning flipped cars and basic carnage that is Tuesday morning rush hour in Los Angeles, ultimately pulling into Glen Helen relatively early. We cleared the alert Orange entrance gate and slipped into a spot at the finish of the pits. The truck subsequent to us was none other than the excellent 500 GP champ Kevin Schwantz–whose school I also got to create about for MO, placing on his gear subsequent to a brand new Suzuki RM, most appropriate. Walking about to the back of the truck I spotted the Hayden Brothers suiting up just feet from our rig, subsequent to them the employees from MX Racer. This was going to be a fantastic day certainly.
Geared up we headed over to the massive Dunlop rig to verify our tire pressure. The crew was very helpful and created us really feel like we have been factory for a day but with no the likelihood to win appliances. A quit at the Yamaha truck to make some adjustments reinforced the feeling as we headed onto the MX track.
JH on the clapped-out CT-70 that started it all, back when he was nice.
Craig immediately pulled away on the large YZ, additional demonstrating his well-deserved 125-250 Pro professional status and more than 20 years of moto encounter. I spotted a yellow flash hurtling by with the graceful style that could only be Kev Schwantz. Now I have had the chance to adhere to him on the street and in the dirt. Cruising around Glen Helen trying to find out the track we proceeded more than what seemed like an endless parade of tabletops. I gradually followed Craig more than what appeared to be just yet another table but it was truly a double jump, a realization which hit me as I was hanging motionless in no-man’s land smack amongst the double humps and falling like a stone, no harm accomplished, now I know. The track was an abbreviated version of the National track, and the giant uphill loop was closed off, despite the fact that the downhill portion of that loop was rumored to be part of a specific section. We hit a handful of a lot more laps on the famed track and prepared for the storied Ten-mile mountain loop.
A quick cease in the pits to fill my new ultra-comfortable hydration technique created by nearby Santa Barbara boys Chase Harper, and I was set. Climate was best of course, hovering around 65-70 as far as I could tell, with bone dry situations. We idled via the endless carnival of factory team awnings, industry names and Television crews in the pits, and headed up into the mountain. Craig Hatch took the lead I quickly discovered how he was going to play it all day. He was hauling major ass on the Largest YZ and was spreading a roost so large and thick I could only navigate by the edges of the canyon walls and the ribbon of blue sky above as we climbed the huge third-gear, serpentine, sand-laden mountain. The trails had been marked with colour-coded arrows according to difficulty in a really clear and effectively thought-out manner. A short meeting with Ken Faught in the pits revealed the existence of 4 particular sections marked off the principal trail throughout. At his suggestion we would hunt them down.
Cousin Craig
The AMA Pro Says:
Cousin Craig, then…
Early a single morning I was checking my email and I got one particular from Hatch Illustration. This normally implies that my cousin is about to test some excellent bike or meet some popular particular person in the motorcycle sector. He knows that drives me crazy. Well not today, this a single read, “I’m only going to ask you after, 24 hours at Glen Helen.” Excellent motoheads believe alike, I knew exactly what he meant. My heart started racing just like it does just before the gate drops in a moto. I couldn’t wait to get back to him and ask about the information.
The day lastly came when it was time to fly out west, nevertheless not actually certain what motorcycle I may well be riding. But that was okay. Just receiving a likelihood to invest some time in California with my cousin would be good adequate. When I landed Jimbo was waiting at the terminal and the initial factor he stated was I got your bike. A brand new Yamaha YZ450F. I felt like a factory racer walking by means of the airport with my gear bag over my shoulder and a nice new Yamaha, prepped and ready to ride.
… and now.
My initial concern with the YZ450F was acquiring the big beast began. A close pal and racing teammate at Monmouth Cycles had the YZ426F, and me becoming a shorter rider, I would constantly have difficulty obtaining it began, especially when it was hot. Not to be concerned. The 450 fired off on the very first kick and I had no compression release to deal with. Now it was time to head out on the track and see what other improvements Yamaha had made.
The initial component of the ride would be the motocross section. The energy from the engine to the rear wheel was really smooth from the bottom of the throttle clear through to wide open. Getting raced motorcycles most of my life it was nice to get away from the light-switch power band you get from most two-strokes. One particular factor I noticed appropriate away was that I didn’t have to shift extremely usually. That’s due to the fact Yamaha went from a five-speed transmission to a 4-speed. I wasn’t positive how that would be when it came to performing a big jump for the first time. After getting comfy on the a lot of tabletops it was time to do the step-up and then the huge double. Third gear, as it turns out, will get you over just about any huge obstacle. Way over…
Next it was off to the mountains and tight trails. I have to say this bike was performing every little thing nicely. The tight trails have been a little bit difficult the wide motocross handlebars make maneuvering though the trees a little difficult. That is when I created a error and stalled the beast in the tight, sugar-sand switchback section. Now what’s going to occur? Will the beast begin hot? Or is it going to be a seven-mile push back to the truck? I propped myself against a tree so I could have my left leg on the peg and my appropriate leg prepared for a full difficult stroke on the kick starter. I pulled the hot lever on the left handlebar, and to my surprise it began right up. I had a smile from ear to ear Yamaha had tamed the beast.
The complete event was like a dream come accurate for me. Getting out west for my first time, becoming involved in the 24 Hours at Glen Helen, meeting all the nice people that make this occasion achievable. Thank you Yamaha for letting an old motocross racer from New Jersey come out and test a bike, sniff. What’s my next assignment?
Hatch lastly makes his escape from New Jersey on a 1975 Honda CR125.
We spotted the #1 particular section arrow and soon after a couple of hours of being severely spanked by my quicker cousin I ultimately discovered his Achilles heel. It was huge down hills and we had been staring straight down the famed Glen Helen MX mountain loop. If you consider it looks large on Tv, you have to see it in individual to appreciate how brave and talented the Pros actually are attacking that hill in anger, just wonderful. I grabbed a handful of gas and hurled down, it was about half way with speed gaining that I questioned why I approached such a monster down hill with a healthier dose of throttle. Surviving to the bottom I believed the hardest element of loop #1 was more than until I rounded the corner and spied the near vertical boulder field that provided my only return to the primary route. The trail was strewn with helmet-much less, beat-faced riders taking a break to analyze the quagmire. This was not a excellent sign I kept my momentum and produced it to the best to report my findings to thy elder cousin. At this point I was glad I had my hydration technique strapped on and it worked very properly maintaining me from the dreaded cottonmouth. The Dirt Rider boys had done a great job I was getting an absolute blast.
A catered lunch break and brief walk around revealed the magnitude of the talent at the event. I spied Malcolm Smith, sandwich in hand, at a nearby table. Jeremy McGrath whizzed by on a KTM with a quite cool American flag waving proudly from the back of his helmet. Mike Metzger had his bikes on display fresh from the Winter X-games, no doubt, with studded tires and all. Helmet excellent Troy Lee was suited up and hanging with McGrath, all whilst the Motoworld on-air talent roamed the pits conducting interviews and gathering it all for posterity.
And so it came to pass that the Hatch Factory Transporter would disgorge its pair of large four-stroke Yamahas and Jerseyites in the Glen Helen pit, to take component in the census.
Lunch partially digested, it was back out to the principal loop. Craig set the pace in his point and roost style. The very first part of the loop was a wide sandy affair slowly winding up, then back down into a tight valley that wound even though brush, slowly receiving tighter, such as a brief wooded section and a two-foot lengthy section of actual mud and moisture, then back into the open. Every so usually I would come across some hardy soul stationed in the thicket shooting photographs. I met a handful of groups of riders along the way telling of how far they had come and their various motorcycling affiliations– incredible how friendly absolutely everyone was all day lengthy. We had a short chat with a quick guy wearing a video unit on his back and a camera on his head, but after a short stint he realized we weren’t Steve Hatch or his brothers and went on his way.
We don’t like to drop names, but Jake Zemke, Jeremy McGrath, Troy Lee.
Soon after attempting my quite very best to remain on the rear tire of my YZ-mounted cousin we approached 1 final monster uphill with massive groups of bikes gathered at the bottom that resembled circled wagons of the old west. Was this a sign, need to we scope out the predicament very first? Nope, we hit it tough and fast and had a blast bouncing and roosting our way to the leading and sooner or later winding back down to the pits.
I took a break soon after numerous laps of the mountain to watch and photograph Craig lap the MX track and relished the time we had to ultimately ride together and at such a prestigious occasion no less (stated Jim in his very best James Bond accent). As night started to fall the teams scrambled to hook up their lighting systems and a a lot more significant tone swept the pits. The men and women that came to play all day, including us, packed up to leave the star-studded teams to ride into the evening and get on with the business of testing the bikes throughout the night, 24 hours certainly.
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