The 24hr Story

Because of another topic about not being many people on this site that actually have a chance to race. Then seeing it from the riders point of view would be an interesting aspect for those that may want to race someday. I raced from 1975 to 1982. We were a 24hr endurance race team sponsored by Penton Honda of Amherst Ohio. (600 class)

Our big race every year was "The 24hrs of Nelson Ledges" roadrace. Racers from the USA, Canada and Europe would compete in a 24hr road race that started Saturday at 4pm and ended Sunday at 4pm. This race did run come hell or high water! And that was proven August 2nd & 3rd 1980. This was the year "we" UPS Roadracing won the 600 class.

Motorcyclist magazine had been to Nelsons before trying to win the 600 class. This year they were trying again. What follows are the editors Art Friedman, Jeff Karr and Rich Cox's story of that monsoonish weekend written in the December issue of MC mag. Each editor was a rider. What better point of view can you have.

I'm not doing the whole article at once now. But if you folks want I'll do it in sections if your interested. Otherwise this will be it so not to take up space in unwanted stories. Here goes.

Nelson Ledges: Even at 19 1/2 Hours,It's Still The Longest Day

Editors note: Ever the gluttons for humiliation, once again Motorcyclist staffers Friedman, Cox and Karr made the trek acroos the continent to participate in the Nelson Ledges, Ohio, 24 Hour Endurance Roadrace aboard their aging Suzuki GS550. Just as in the past, they planned on teaching those Easterners a lesson on how Real Endurance Racing is done. Sufficeit to say the the Easterners did most of the teaching and the staffers did most of the learning. What follows is their account of the event.

"I say we call this whole thing off and start drinking now" -Unidentified, but wet,pit crewman.

In eleven years - that's 264 racing hours- the 24 Hours of Nelson had never been red-flagged or subjected to any unscheduled stops. The monsoons of 1980 changed all of that.Before darkness had even fallen, the still-young race had been red-flagged twice as the Ohio skies cut loose a deluge which blinded riders, destroyed communications from corner workers, put some pits under water and thoughly soaked everyone and every thing invovled
Rather than lessening the competition, the rain-which started before practice and didn't stop until shortly after we put the last soggy rag in the trailer after the race-seemed to actually make the racing closer. The 5 o'clock Sunday evening curfew imposed on the event permitted only a bit over 19 hours of racing after all the delays were subtracted, but when the soaking checkered flag finally waved,the two leading teams were only seconds apart.

Our team, for one, needed as many red flags as it could get. We mistook an ignition problem on out three-year old Suzuki GS550 for carburetion maladies. With limited time in the shortened practice, not all of us got a chance to ride and those that did had only one opportunity to diagnose the problem, which seemed to be lessened after fattening the jets. However, even with the richer carburetion the bike was running terrible.

Although the bike was horrifyingly slow, Jeff sloshed through the first hour respectably We were losing ground steadily though, and the bike was getting slower. We made some quick, in effective adjustments at the first pit stop. Then, while Jan Jollies our fourth rider, went out, the rest of the crew conferred with Jeff in an attempt to find a solution.

About that time, the steady rain turned in to a blinding downpour with 40mph winds which fouled communication and caused a multitude of crashes. The red flag came out.
The halt was a Godsend for us, giving us a chance to rejet the Suzuki, which was obviously too rich.It also gave renewed hope to the fast Heschimura Honda CB750F-turned-900 entry,last years winner and probably the most powerful bike in the race. They'd just been involved in a clustercrash when the race was stopped, and they were able to make repairs without losing much ground.
It took just under an hour to restore communications and reorganize the start, during which time we fumbled around some more. Then my first turn in the saddle came.

It took me half-a-lap to convince me that we were still jetted to rich, but I also realized our primary problem was not jetting however, I didn't get too long to think about the engine before the rider in front of me crashed, sprawling squarely on my line. I tried to pull it down underneath him, but I didn't quite make it and clipped his leg as I passed. Looking back, I was extremely relieved to see him leap to his feet and run off the track. Nonetheless I still had some trouble swallowing my heart which, along with my lunch, had found its way into my throat. I'd never hit anybody before, and I didn't like it a bit. I felt a lot better when I talked to the rider, who was unhurt, later

Then the rain got to the communications again and the second red flag came out. It would take over three hours to correct,during which time we rejetted again

As darkness fell and the rain subsided during the lull, a transformation occurred on pit row. For a while the tension of the race ebbed,and with nothing to do on most of the bikes,team members wandered around and chatted with each other. The pit road resembled some sort of outdoor cocktail party without the cocktails. People stood around and joked and made friends. It was as if the danger and competition waiting on the dark, wet racetrack weren't there. Then after two hour of socializing the spell was suddenly broken as officals walked through the pits telling teams to prepare for a restart.

This time Rich rode. He hadn't even sat on the bike, nor had he gotten so much as a lap around the track, since last year. Now, on a racetrack which is black as death with rain suddenly coming down again in sheets, he was expected to race. And race he did. By the end of his first lap, he'd already passed a couple of larger bikes. Things were obviously in good hands and I went to take a nap
-Art Friedman

"This is the first time anyone has woken me up at three in the moring to ride a motorcycle" -Gary Nixon at Kawasaki's 24 hour record attempt at Daytona 1973.

Racing at night around a pitch-black track is difficult enough, but when you add rain to the equation, it gets downright scary sometimes. Even the best headlights seem pitifully inadequate when going wide open, searching for the apex of a 70 mph bend. Add to that hundreds of light reflecting drops of water on your face shield and you wonder if your better off blindfolded. Even if you can get a decent look at the wet track surface ahead, you're still out of luck. That puddle up ahead could be just relatively harmless rain water, or it could just as easily be three quarts of Quaker Stat 20-50; it all looks the same. You just have to hope for the best

Still, you can deal with these problems relatively well if you're good at guessing where the track goes and were the slippery parts are. One thing I couldn't deal with was day-glow rainsuits worn by a few riders. I'd be screaming along through the darkness pupils dilated, straining to see my way into the next turn, when a slower rider in front would wander over into my line. I'd be closing on him pretty fast, and the closer I'd get, the more light his suite would reflect back into my eyes and the less of the dim track I could see.Our Suzuki has five headlights,and when riding ten feet behibd a Scotchlite blimp, enough of the light bounces back at you to damn near melt your faceshield. It's a lot like tailgating Haley's Comet. Eventually I'd get aggravated enough to just gas it past the guy. Even though I couldn't see anything beyond him. Then it take about three laps for my eyes to re-adjust to the darkness. One lap after that, I'd come up on another day-glow special, and the cycle would repeat itself. -Jeff Karr

"When the going gets perverse, the perverse get going" -anonymouse

The one eventuality I've always dreaded, the one possibility that has given me a queasy feeling in my stomach and made me weak in the knees whenever I've considered it, is racing in the rain at night. This was my fourth 24 Hours of Nelson, but I've never raced here with a wet track before. Somehow I knew that this was going to be the year long before the race. During a phone conversation with Jan months before, I remember sitting in my dry living room at home and saying something like,"We must have used up all our luck with the weather. This year it is bound to pour"

That queasy feeling was there earlier in the day when I looked at the driving rain and thought about my impending nighttime rides. But as I waited in the hard steady shower that night for Jeff to pit and turn the bike over to me, I discovered a new emotion, not the loathing and dread I'd felt before, but a rising excitement and eagerness. By the time Bill Johnson's pit signals ordered Jeff into the pit. I could barely contain myself.

I'm normally the team mule, the guy you can count on to churn out lap times which are respectable, consistant and spectacularly fast-andto do it for hours on end if that's required. Maybe the ehadlights were just right for me, maybe the cool rain was a stimulant, maybe absorbing the dye from my leathers did something to me, but whatever the reason, I was having fun going much faster than I ever dreamed I would under the circumstances. Bikes which were much fasteron the straights would slowly fall bejhind as I passed, repassed and eventually pulled away in the corners. In my two nighttime hours of racing, only four bikes passed me decisively, a fact which pleased me enormously. While others floundered and skidded, I seemed to have no particular lack of traction with the Dunlop K81's we (and half the rest of the field) were using. The only place where I had to exercise extra caution was at the greasy exit of the Carousel, where crashed bikes were stacked like cord wood during the rainy hours of nighttime. At the end of my last nighttime stint, I turned the bike over to Jan with real disappointment. -Art Friedman

"Sometimes frogs come out on the track at night, and as anyone who has encountered one can tell you, they're very slippery" -Traditional pre-race warning

It's eerie in the darkness. It's hard to tell where you are on the track-where the pavement ends and the grass starts. At times your part of a freight train of bikes, other times you go several laps without another bike. Once per lap you come out of the blackness and launch yourself down the brilliant front straight. The tire wall is lined with people and illuminated pit boards. You have just a second or two to find yours and begin to figure out what it means before you're under the bridge and alone again back out on the coarse. In one turn you can see lights of bikes going down the back straight several hundred feet away. If you're dozing, it can be a real shock. Once around 3 am the lights got me. I came out of a sweeper (carousel) onto the back straight and was greeted by the headlight of another bike several hundred feet away, apparently going backwards on the track comming at me head on. Before I could react, the light swerved strangely, followed by the red glow of a taillight. As the bike came into the beam of my lights I realized that it hadn't been going the wrong way around the track, but had crashed at the exit of the turn, slid along backwards with it's light aimed at me, then began to spin. Both the bike and rider kept sliding right off into the grass. I weaved through the dedris and kept on going. Suddenly I felt very wide awake. -Jeff Karr



Well that's a start. would you like to hear the rest of it?

 

I'd like to see more.

 

Great stuff from one of my all-time favorite mags. Would definitely like to read the rest of it.

 

Thanks Grey, A very worthy post indeed!

BZ

 

coool............got any of the pics to go with the story?

 

Ok I'll continue.

Just a note. MC's Aging Suzuki was a highly (for that time) modified race bike, as were most of the bikes in the race. Nelson Ledges race coarse is 2.3 miles with 13 corners. Slowest being about 45mph and the fastest around 120 mph. Average lap speed was 75-85 mph. Plus the track wasn't the smoothest and same surface all the way around it.


Last Part

This is a hardship event. -Don Bartram, organizer

As a rider, the early morning hours always strike me as being the most spectacular in the 24 hour period. For me, it's always exciting to witness the faint glow of the sun breaking over the horizon-it gives me a warm and secure feeling as the racetrack is slowly but surely brought back into focus. This year I was once again lucky enough to capture that sunrise shift and I'll probably never forget it: not because of the welcome break in the weather, but rather how awfully close I came on two occasions to checking out of the race, maybe for good.

It was virtually impossible to get any sleep that night; there wasn't an inch of sleeping room anywhere to be found or a pair of warm, dry socks within a hundred miles. I was tired and fuzzy-eyed when Jan handed the Suzuki over to me at around 6am. It was still dark, but at least the rain had stopped briefly, which boosted my spirits. Little did I know that within 15 seconds of jumping on board the bike, I would be jolted from my sleepiness into a world of terror.

At the switch-over nobody had bothered to inform me that the last rain squall flooded turn two, an 80mph dog-leg to the right, leaving a thin film of mud right smack in the corners apex. I never saw it. The front wheel instantly whipped to the right, full lock, sending the foot peg and my boot ripping across the pavement. The bike slid crossed-up on it's front tire across the entire width of the track were it finally grabbed some traction and miraculously righted itself without pitching me off. A lap later I witnessed an instant replay as another unsuspecting rider up ahead succumbed to the same fate- only he wasn't so lucky as he went sliding off the track into the darkness in a shower of sparks.

You'd think that an adrenalin rush like that would have cleared my senses, but a truly bizarre incident happened 15 minutes later which proved I must have been far from awake. I had taken a quick glance down at the instrament panel during the long backstraight when suddenly my mind went totally blank. When the lights came back on I realized I was smack in the middle of a sweeping 110-mph right hander headed for the sidelines. (my note: this is called fatigue, were you see everthing normal but your mind is asleep, then you wake up. Believe me it's one of the scariest things to happen in endurance racing) I don't recall breaking for the corner, or even seeing it for that matter, in that split instant I was totally disoriented: I didn't know how I got there, which corner it was, or even where I was on the racetrack. It was purely instinct which made me jam on the right handlebar to send the Suzuki careening around the outside lip of the corner only inches from the wet grass. I had to actually look back over my shoulder for several seconds to realize where I'd been. That frightened me even more, knowing I had just fallen asleep on the fastest part of the track and gotten away with it. -Rich Cox

The faster I go, the farther behinder I get. -Popular wall placard

By mid-morning we'd managed to put ourselves fairly well downfield of both the class and race leaders. We were sixth in the 600 class and about 20th overall. Our total lack of horsepower had hurt us in the early hours of the race, and we stopped to correct that problem-first for jetting changes (accomplished by switching carbs) and later to replace the faulty ignition coil which was the real culprit. We were forced to fix it when the bike quite on the coarse, making Jeff push it in. (ever push a bike in knee deep mud?)

When it was running well, we could make up time steadily, but we always found some way to lose it all again. For the first example, when Jeff got on for his first morning stint, out pit crew-James Parker, Marc Hemsworht, Mark Avrech and Cort Thompson- had the bike in and out in under 12 seconds with a full tank and a fresh rider. The track was trying a brief experiment with drying out, and Jeff cut some very rapid times (low 1:20's) but his charge was cut short by a flat rear tire. As the day went on, we found other, often creative ways to give up whatever time we gained. -Art Friedman

That was the most bitchen crash I've ever had. -Rich Cox

For those who had come to ride the 24-Hour for the first time, it must have been a terrifying experience. Even under ideal weather conditions, Nelson Ledges is a deceiving tricky course to negotiate: the track surface is narrow and bumpy in sections; it's blacker than a coal miners hole out there at night, and Nelson's particular track layout has been know to produce some prety strange phenomenons in the darkness. As if that-and the five inches of rain-wasn't enough to create absolutly treacherous riding conditions, there was an added hazard at the exit of the famed Carousel righthander. Right when you want to get on the gas for a strong drive onto the straight there was a 15 yard long patch of new pavement that was slicker than a ballroom floor. And when water touched it, you would have been better off on a bed of marbles. my note: The Carousel is a double apex high speed 180 degree turn that tightens up on the exit. speed is 70-80mph

I'm not generally known to be a crasher, but old Ma Nature suckered me in to one of the wildest rides I've ever had. The track was completely dry when I started my second morning stint in the saddle. Things were just beginning to work well: the bike was running stronger than ever had, and I was making some good time. I could see the rain clouds forming overhead as I entered the groove in the Carousel sweeper but thought nothing of it. When I was completely committed in the corner, the bottom dropped out of the sky as if a huge faucet had suddenly been opended. No little rain drops to alert you, no warning whatsoever, just an instant wall of water. I never had time to slow down before hitting that slimy patch of pavement. The rear end cut loose instantly into a giant full lock slide, and then the Suzuki started doing a succession of bone-jarring tank slappers. (my note: been there, done that. don't like it at all!)
Somehow I rode it out, but by the time both wheels lined up I was rocketing straight of into the grassy ditch on the far side of the track. my note: that's were the swamp is) Since my eyes were still doing a tap-dance inside their sockets my vision was totally blurred and rather than risk center-punching something solid, I hit the ejection button, stepping off as gracefully as I knew how. It was an absolutely righteous get off:I hit the wet grass on my back and slid for what seemed like an eternity. It kind of reminded me of the fun I used to have sliding down the front yard on the old Sip-N-Slide. I escapedwithout even a bruise and the bike only suffered a bent brake pedal. When I pulled into the pits only minutes later, no one even knew I'd bee late coming around, let alone upside-down on the back straightaway! -Rich Cox

We only planned on one crash. -Pit crew member, explaining her team's inability to continue

"Rich just crashed coming out of the Carousel, but he got back up and is still going around!" Pit crewman Marc Hemsworth seemed rather amused with the concept of Rich pitching the Suzuki into the muddy grass at 60mph without significantly damaging the bike or himself. "You're up next after Rich's stint is over," he said.

Murky gray clouds overhead were drizzling steadily, so I put on my $4 rainsuite over my damp leathers and waded out to pit row. Rich skidded to a stop and hopped off, and I jumped on as the gas tank was topped up. I got a bump start and gassed it out of the pits for what was intended to be a one-hour riding stint.

The bike was only slightly tweaked from Rich's mishap, so it worked reasonably well as I settled into some consistent lap times. At this stag of the race, I wasn't interested in taking many chances, so I didn't push too hard. The GS wou;ld only break traction once a lap-right at the exit of the sweeping Carousel-the place where Rich had tossed it earlier. Everytime I'd hit the glass-smoothed pavement patch at the exit, the 550's rear end would slide out: sometimes just an inch or two, occasionally as much as a foot. There was real traction again just beyond the patch, so it'd straighten right back out again and I'd be on my way.

After about 30 minutes of highspeed amusement, my imitation dry wobbler rainsuit began to self destruct. It first got my attention when I hung off for a fast corner and about three seams let go in unison. It quit being a rainsut and started being a parachute. The right leg split and inflated, pulling me sideways in the seat and knocking me off balance. A couple of more laps and the tattered plastic was trailing behind me in a streamers, fluttering franticly in the 100 mph wind. I figured it wouldn't take too long for me to get black flagged, and I was right. I came around a few more times and then the starter got me, while our pit crew was holding up the PIT sign and waving frantically. Oh well, one more lap. It was really half-a-lap.

I came throught the rain-dampened Carousel at about my usual speed- maybe just a hair slower, took a bead on my usual line across the slippery patch at the exit and began to roll the gas on like always. I hit the patch, and the Suzuki's rear end started its customary slide. But for the first time ever it just kept on going. And going. With amazing speed. One second I was riding, and the next second I was sliding down the track flat on my back, feet-first at 60 mph. The wet track and the remains of my rainsut created just about zero friction, so I just hydroplaned along in comfort. I raised my head and gazed between my soggy Kenny Roberts boots, enjoying the show as the Suzuki tumbled and spun-quite a sight, really. Then I looked back behind me to see if I was about to be run over. No one was close, and I was still going about 50 anyway, only a little slower than the bikes passing me. My trajectory had me headed for the edge of the track at a genital angle. I reflected on the crash for a moment, considering its suddenness and the time it would cost us. My train of thought was cut short as I ran out of pavement and dropped onto the soggy grass, still sliding along serenely, feet first. I dug my heels and skidded to a stop, then jumped up and dragged the GS off the track with the help of the corner workers. I had slid about 200 feet from the point where I had fallen. The trip lasted only a number of seconds, and was actually quite enjoyable-in a demented sort of way. Clearly the most pleasant crash of my roadracing career. -Jeff Karr

I'm going to be dead before this is over. -Don Bartram

The race starts at 4:00 p.m. on Saturday and normally ends 24 hours later. The track has a 5:00 p.m. curfew on Sunday, at which time the race had to be ended. By then there had been about 19 1/2 hours of racing. The Heschimura Honda had dropped back to seventh with various problems. Three bikes, the Wescan and Cyjo Suzuki GS1000s and the Group4 Ducati 900 were very close, swapping the lead on the track when they pitted. The Ducati, a past winner, held the lead only seconds ahead of the Wescan bike as they sloshed through another torrential rain and took the checked flag.

However, there was a hitch. The Group 4 Ducati had crashed once in the last turn, and since that's only 100 yards or so away from the pit, the crew ran out and helped push it in. Unfortunately, the rules say that the pit crew may not assist the rider except in the pits. Other teams might have been let off for this minor infraction, but the Group 4 effort is headed by Don Bartram, who also organizes the event. Bartram knows that showing his team any favoritism will be the end of the event, so the officials never let Group 4 off. They were docked five laps for their 50 yard push, and that dropped them to third behind the Cyjo Rocket Suzuki.

We'd moved up to fourth in the 600 class and had no hope of making up the large gap separating us from third when the class leader dropped out. The bike came into the pits with a broken chain on their borrowed Yamaha and also had a loose countershaft sprocket and a bent clutch push rod. After repairing those problems, they discovered a locked up transmission. (my note: This happened in the wee hour of morning darkness) Their retirement moved us up to third, Behind the winning 458cc UPS Roadracing Honda and the second place Kawasaki KZ550. As we moved up in class, we dropped back overall as the open-class machines used their power and temporarily drying course to make up time during mid-day. For some of them, like the No. 9 entry headed by the seemingly tireless Frank Sega, the race was too short. They were still gaining ground.

The leaders in the 400 class beat all the 600s, and the Mighty Mouse Yamaha RD400 even led the whole race for a couple of hours during the night. They were eventually passed by the open bikes, then dropped to tenth overall and second in class after a couple of crashes. The Yamaha of Warren RD took top honors and sixth overall after a consistant ride.

After almost 1000 hours of racing man-hours on an almost constantly wet track, there were no injuries worse than a broken collarbone. Even the corner worker who was struck by lightning was OK.

The End.

I hope you enjoyed the race.

A little history Of Nelson 24. It started in 1969 with only 7 bikes registered and two more brow beat into racing for a total of 9 teams. By story time is was limited to 50 teams plus 2 at organizers discretion. THIS IS THE TRACK THAT STARTED THE TIRE WALL BARRIER THAT YOU SEE TODAY AT TRACKS AROUND THE WORLD! Thank you Akron GoodYear!! At this time also there were only two 24 hour motorcycle races in the world. The other was in Le Mans France. Yep that one. The next year racers hit the 2000 mile mark in 24 hours. (no rain!)

The following year I built the bike up more with help from Kieth Marshall (Heshurmira Racing) a Honda R&D guy and some help from Kaz Yoshima, An alumnus of Honda Japan's R&D department, Yoshima brought the 400 to light and life with his company Ontario-Moto-Tech. Our bike was not as extensive as his was, about half way there. But here's what his bike looked like. Ours looked basically the same. Notice hand bent roundish header.

For some reason I can't get the link below to work from here. If you paste and copy it, it does work. It's about the 400 and Kaz.

1977 Cycle World: Yoshima's Business Card (feature)

Seems it still doesn't work. If you do a Google search on Kaz Yoshima CB400 you'll find some links to the Z1 killer bike. Ours wouldn't kill Z1s but it would do most of the stock 750s of the day.

Thank You for your time.

 

I just copied the info in the link. Yes I liked this little 400.

Imagine you're riding a modified Z-1 at Ontario, driving hard out of Turn Nine onto the back straight. Suddenly a bright yellow form materializes at your shoulder, shoots past, and is gone with a howl.

Was the motorcycle that flew past another, faster Z-1? A faired GP machine? A turbo-charged GS750? Nope. It was a Honda CB400F.

Image Hard to believe? Plenty of riders and spectators at club road races in Southern California have a hard time believing the horsepower put out by several 492cc CB400Fs built by Kazuo Yoshima, the owner, manager, mechanic and sole employee of Yoshima Racing Service (YRS) in North Hollywood.

Yoshima, 28, arrived in the United States in 1972, after a broken back suffered in a light sedan race crash in Japan ended his career in the small engine R&D Department of Honda Motor Corp., Ltd. Kazuo, or "Kaz" worked as a commission mechanic in a Honda shop until he learned enough English and saved enough money to open his own tiny storefront racing shop on Burbank Boulevard in August of 1975.

The obvious question is, why did Yoshima pick modifying the CB400F as his specialty?

"Some people around this business told me that there was no way to make the 400 go, because of valve angle and other things inside", answers Yoshima. "Because I'm just kind of new to this business, I needed a 'business card.' I picked the hardest one to make it go, to prove myself. I must make it go even faster."

It's hard to compare Yoshima's hottest version of the CB400F with other motorcycles in absolute terms. Last year, a 458cc version turned in a 12.7-second elapsed time at the drags, with stock gearing and no wheelie bar. Every attempt to get the ETs down resulted in broken connecting rods - from polished stockers to trick replacements - splitting the engine cases.

Now, with YRS 492cc engines using Carillo connecting rods, the case-splitting days seem to be over. At Ontario on March 27, Yoshima's product test bike went from a second-wave start in the combined Super Cafe (Open) and Cafe (under 600cc) race to second overall in six laps, turning a 2:17.5 lap time on the 3.19-mile long course and finishing with the winning 845cc GS750 in sight Yoshima's bike turned 13,000 rpm with no problems.

Besides the Carillo rods built to Yoshima's specifications (the smallest rods Carillo has ever made, according to the company foreman), the YRS CB400F is packed with performance modifications and parts, including: YRS balanced and matched 56mm pistons and cylinder liners (stock bore is 51 mm); balanced and matched wrist pins and rocker arms; YRS "Hot Street" camshaft; modified cam chain tensioner; modified S&W CB500 valve springs; 27.5mm intake valves (26.5 valves are stock); Keihin 29mm CR sandcast aluminum carburetors (20mm carbs are stock); YRS hand-bent exhaust System; lightened and balanced crankshaft with polished journals; Honda Racing Service Center (RSC) CB350 magneto ignition system, with a hand-made adaptor; RSC close-ratio six-speed transmission; larger capacity oil pump rotor; Earl's Supply oil cooler; Lockhart oil cooler adaptor plate; turned-down CB750 front discs and CB750 calipers, with 1976 CB750F caliper carriers and hand-made aluminum disc carriers; RSC CB750 racing master cylinder; DID WM-3 aluminum front rim with Michelin 3.25 x 18" PZ-2 tire; aluminum front fender; shimmed fork springs, RSC racing steering damper; Custom Canyon Racers instrument panel with Stewart-Warner oil temperature and pressure gauges and RSC CB500 racing tachometer; Tommaselli clip-on handlebars and RSC quick-throttle; Morris WM-5 magnesium rear wheel with Michelin 4.25 x 18" PZ-2 tire; turned-down and drilled CB500 front disc mounted on the rear wheel with a hand-made carrier; CB200 mechanical caliper; YRS aluminum-bronze swing arm bushings; S&W shock absorbers; frame bracing; and a modified Rickey Racer Laverda custom seat. Yoshima started out running Castrol-R (castor-based) oil in his engines, but recently switched to AmsOil 10w-40 synthetic racing oil when he found that oil pressure under racing conditions stayed higher with the synthetic.

Ready-to-race, Yoshima's Honda weighs 275 pounds, and is marginally legal for street-based Cafe classes. On the racetrack, the motor pulls evenly and strongly from 8,000 rpm up to 13,500 rpm. With plenty of horsepower, relatively light weight and unlimited ground clearance, it is easy to pass machines twice as large entering, in the middle of, and exiting turns.

The price. According to Yoshima, he'd build another CB400F like this one for $2,600-for the engine alone. Asked about the price of the complete package, Yoshima looked at the work piled up in his cramped shop, shook his head, and said, "Just like this one? You've got to be kidding..."

 

Beautiful 400F. It makes me want to take my stock one apart again and, well, you know.
I've done a few music gigs at Nelson Ledges. One of them got the tornado treatment so I know how unforgiving the sky can be out there. I was hiding in a walk-through culvert wondering if it was my time.

 

Gray:

You are my new favorite VFRW member! What a fantastic post brother.

I loved the add-on story about the Honda 400. I've always been upset that pretty much no one makes a modern 400 for the street that can be turned into a race bike.

A guy I know, who still races 600's, used to race a FZR400. I'd pit him against almost anybody (at least us mere mortals) on a bigger more modern bike and I'd lay money he'd still whoop our butts.

Those little bikes have so much going for them.

I've thought about doing a track day at Nelson-Ledges. Gas prices have been the main deterrent, but now that I've read you post I'm reconsidering!

BZ

 

That was a great set of posts, thank you for the entertainment.

 

Jeez. There are a lot of typos and errors in there that I know weren't there in the original story that we printed back in 1980.

That was a fun, if exhausting, weekend. We won our class the following year on a GPz550 that we uncrated on Thursday and raced on Saturday.

Art Friedman

 

Art:

Thanks for posting up brother!:thumbsup:

BZ

 

Wow, I never knew there was an road course out there!

There used to be a crazy party spot by the same name..That place was really really insane.

Thanks for the article!

 

Info here:

Nelson Ledges

 

Yeah, I found that already, thanks though. Do they do bikes every year? I'll have to get out there if so, it's a lot closer than mid-ohio.

Nelson Ledges Quarry Park is the place I was thinking of...Right next to the state park in Garrettsville. Gonzo.

 

Tom:

Go to NESBA : Northeast Sports Bike Association

NESBA hosts tracks days at Nelson-Ledges at a pretty good price.

BZ

 

Hey thanks Bubba!

I hadn't thought I'd have the stuff together to start trackin for another year or so, but they rent leathers, and have free 'intros' that one can extend into a beginner session..145 FRNs...not bad!

 

Anytime:thumbsup:

I've heard good things about the crowd who rides at Nelson-Ledges.

BZ

 

Wow haven't been back to this post in a while. Thanks Art. It was good to race against you guys. Those were fun days. Learned how to ride in the rain too.

As far as all the errors, I figured I couldn't be charged with plagiarism that way! lol Besides I can't type worth a sh!t.