Ol'89r
LIFETIME SPONSOR
- Jan 27, 2000
- 6,958
- 45
When I first started in this sport, one of my mentors was a guy named Jim Hunter. Hunter was a rare breed, the original 'Dirty Old Man'.
Hunter taught me how to power slide a motorcycle. I watched him power slide his big BSA Goldstar around the sweeper at Prado Park in Southern California, lap after lap. Feet on the pegs, full lock slide, poetry in motion. I tried to follow Hunter and time after time I tossed my Triumph away. High side, low side, even went over the front and got run over by my own motorcycle once trying to emulate this guy.
Hunter also taught us how to 'tough it out'. How to 'never give up'. Hunter had an extreme lack of compassion for 'newbies'. He knew all of the nasty spots in the trail and he and his partners-in-crime would get ahead of us 'new guys' far enough so that when we came upon these spots and would go crashing down on our arses, the first thing we would see when we picked ourselves up was Hunter and his cronies all lined up laughing their butts off.
For the longest time I could not figure out why this guy hated me so much. Why he put me through all of this pain and embarrassment. Well, I stuck it out and after many years and embarrassing incidents, I finally became 'one of the guys'. I got to line up with Hunter and the other guys and watch the new guys tumble down the hill. This is a tradition that still goes on to this very day.
When I got to really know this man, I found out that he had a heart of gold. He was generous beyond compare and was a very talented racer. He had a sharp wit and a tongue to match. Many a Pro National number walked away from Hunter with their tails between their legs.
Hunter earned many number one plates in District 37 and won two number one National sportsman plates at the age of 40. An age where most are retiring. He was the first man to go over 200mph on a motorcycle, 224mph at the Bonneville Salt Flats.
Not to many people enjoyed life like Hunter did. He knew everybody and everybody knew him and respected him. I remember visiting him at the hospital after he failed to clear a sand wash, at speed, in Baja. They carried his broken body out on a hood of a car. The nurses at the hospital had already had enough, they wanted him out, broken body or not! After talking to some of his nurses, you could tell that Hunters charisma was working on them and they didn't really want him to leave. All Hunter wanted to do was get back out riding.
Jim Hunter passed away last Wednesday, the 17th, at the age of 78. As I write this I have a tear in my eye and a grin on my face. It's hard to think about Hunter and his antics without grinning.
Rest in peace Muff. You are, and will always be, my hero.
There will be a gathering of longtime friends this Saturday in honor of Hunter at Alondra park 3850 Manhatten Beach Blvd. Lawndale, Ca. Oct. 27 at 2:00 PM.
Ol'89r
Hunter taught me how to power slide a motorcycle. I watched him power slide his big BSA Goldstar around the sweeper at Prado Park in Southern California, lap after lap. Feet on the pegs, full lock slide, poetry in motion. I tried to follow Hunter and time after time I tossed my Triumph away. High side, low side, even went over the front and got run over by my own motorcycle once trying to emulate this guy.
Hunter also taught us how to 'tough it out'. How to 'never give up'. Hunter had an extreme lack of compassion for 'newbies'. He knew all of the nasty spots in the trail and he and his partners-in-crime would get ahead of us 'new guys' far enough so that when we came upon these spots and would go crashing down on our arses, the first thing we would see when we picked ourselves up was Hunter and his cronies all lined up laughing their butts off.
For the longest time I could not figure out why this guy hated me so much. Why he put me through all of this pain and embarrassment. Well, I stuck it out and after many years and embarrassing incidents, I finally became 'one of the guys'. I got to line up with Hunter and the other guys and watch the new guys tumble down the hill. This is a tradition that still goes on to this very day.
When I got to really know this man, I found out that he had a heart of gold. He was generous beyond compare and was a very talented racer. He had a sharp wit and a tongue to match. Many a Pro National number walked away from Hunter with their tails between their legs.
Hunter earned many number one plates in District 37 and won two number one National sportsman plates at the age of 40. An age where most are retiring. He was the first man to go over 200mph on a motorcycle, 224mph at the Bonneville Salt Flats.
Not to many people enjoyed life like Hunter did. He knew everybody and everybody knew him and respected him. I remember visiting him at the hospital after he failed to clear a sand wash, at speed, in Baja. They carried his broken body out on a hood of a car. The nurses at the hospital had already had enough, they wanted him out, broken body or not! After talking to some of his nurses, you could tell that Hunters charisma was working on them and they didn't really want him to leave. All Hunter wanted to do was get back out riding.
Jim Hunter passed away last Wednesday, the 17th, at the age of 78. As I write this I have a tear in my eye and a grin on my face. It's hard to think about Hunter and his antics without grinning.
Rest in peace Muff. You are, and will always be, my hero.
There will be a gathering of longtime friends this Saturday in honor of Hunter at Alondra park 3850 Manhatten Beach Blvd. Lawndale, Ca. Oct. 27 at 2:00 PM.
Ol'89r
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