As I was driving home tonight completely drained and a little buzzed, just had my single busiest day at my restaurant since we opened last June. Dailed in the local rock station and heard that Photograph song, not Def Leppard but a different new one, don't know who it was but anyway....didn't take more than a verse or two to think of my single most memorable photograph. I'd remember this day with or without the picture, to have it only verifies my memory, I thank God he gave use that little spot in our brains for these moments.
1978, Jack Pine Supercross, Lansing Michigan was the scene, my first trip to race "downstate" as we Northerners say. It was also my parents first involvement in my racing, they drove me and a bunch of my buddies down in our Winnabego to camp at the track the night before. I remember hot it was the night we pulled in, how big the track was, real berms, HUGE jumps [by our standards],the swamp smell of Jack Pine, the bugs....everything, even the dinner my Dad made us that night. My folks went to bed around midnight, we stayed up riding the track under moonlight. It was the first time I stayed up until the sunrise, it was...magical.
The compitition was much greater than our local track. Probably during my 2nd or 3rd moto I fell and twisted my ankle, it swelled up something huge. Everyone tried to convince me to hang it up for the day but I had made the main and wanted to race my bike. I remember hobbling up the Jack Pine hill hiding my pain. Once that gate dropped it was gone, musta been, what do you call? endorphins? I lead the whole race until the last straight away, the kid that beat me all day pulled even as this photo was taken, I remember my folks and buddies screaming for me.
He passed me and I took second, I was mad as heck, but it doesn't really matter today.
I'm on the farside, blue & white jersey, purple Arctic Cat helmet, 1978 Roger DeCoster.
Peace.