SI Vault
 
'PLEASE DON'T DIE NOW, BABY'
Kim Chapin
October 16, 1967
That was the riders' plea as nearly 200 motorcycle racers pursued one of the nation's toughest sports championships up the steeps, down the hairy slopes and through the mire around Jamestown, N.Y.
Decrease font Decrease font
Enlarge font Enlarge font
October 16, 1967

'please Don't Die Now, Baby'

That was the riders' plea as nearly 200 motorcycle racers pursued one of the nation's toughest sports championships up the steeps, down the hairy slopes and through the mire around Jamestown, N.Y.

View CoverRead All Articles View This Issue
1 2

Bill Gillis actually came by with a hint of a smile. He hit water and a great cloud of steam joined the clots of mud flying from his rear wheel, which was slowly sinking into the ooze. "Don't die now, baby, don't die now," he mumbled. Then he saw a spectator doubled over with laughter off to the side and said, "You really know how to hurt a guy."

A minute later William Bailey hit the hole and stalled. Bailey sagged off his machine. "Mamma told me not to do this," he said.

Mamma was so right. At Cub Gulf, part of which follows a ravine, bikes did unintentional wheelies (reared up on the back wheels while the riders hung on and prayed), and at another section one man hit a hidden rock and was launched into a reverse somersault. Luckily, he and the bike chose to land at different locations. The nudists would have loved it if they had been around to observe but, sensibly enough, they had already packed it in for the season.

1 2