Riding the Championship Bike
I've heard it from everyone. From the beer-in-hand fan sitting next to me in the stands at a supercross event or an outdoor national to the struggling oh-so-close-to-a-real-ride privateer: "If I had that bike, I'd..."
Well, if you had that bike, you'd better, or you won't be on it for long. The steep slope off of a factory race bike and team is as breathtaking as learning to ride one of these super-stiff, fire-breathing monsters. Take it from me, you and the rest of us 99-percenters are better off on a stocker. But it never hurts to dream.
Every time I ride a real factory race bike, I'm dreaming, dreaming that I can actually ride it like I'm supposed to. Since the bike we were riding was Short's, it had his setup as a starting point. He runs it pretty standard with a normal-bend Renthal bar and a standard footpeg position. The seat is standard height and the foam is stock as well, just replaced often. About the only abnormal thing is the clutch lever, which seems to have the bend of a 1979 XL500, just machined out of billet! And attached to a very trick bike! Titanium, anodized billet and a lot of secret stuff grace the CRF. Just getting near the bike, you can smell the high-dollar race gas. Once running it has a higher idle and slightly cammier rumble to it. The jetting was changed before we even climbed on the bike as Loschiavo looked over his detailed notes on the bike. He adjusted the jetting for the current temperature and pressure conditions of the air just by feel. These guys work like a machine.
From the first bump I hit (it isn't absorbed much) to the first twist in the throttle, I could tell this wasn't just your ordinary modded motor. The whole bike was really impressive, especially on a supercross track. Way too much. The engine had more torque right off idle, like a big-bore kit in grunt but still light, feathery and responsive. It was pretty smooth for the first part of the spread-in a zone where pro riders most likely never ride it, except for the parade lap. Then it built and built quick. It was smooth, but so amplified in power and pull that it was downright gnarly. It revved way up and most likely puts out plenty of juice on the very top as well, but the midrange was so impressive that I didn't feel the need (or dare) to get up there, other than on the start straight. I couldn't get the bike up to the top-end on the rest of the track: It was fast, really strong and only approximately 2 percent better than anything the layperson can buy or have built. But it is that 2 percent that no one else can get, regardless of whether you can use it or not.
Since I was riding around on a real supercross test track, I was doomed by skill to double just about everything. With this track built in series of six jumps, it was better than the older-style tracks, where even the doubles were tricky. The problem was the bike's power wanted to jump three things, not two. Now if I'd just held it on, I might have been able to do it. But I wasn't about to find out if I had the talent to back up what the bike could handle.
So that leads to the suspension. Stiff is a negative word, but it has to be taken in context. The bike's suspension likes to move slowly so it doesn't wallow around or compress too much on jump faces or in the whoops. It is also very slow in rebound and it won't spring the bike up higher in the air or throw the front wheel down in the whoops. As a rider gets faster, his suspension usually gets stiffer because he hits things harder. Short's suspension is way stiffer than last year, and that should tell you something. I ended up opening the rebound so the suspension would give me lift off the jumps to help clear things, 'cause I wasn't using speed to do it alone. Plus, on step-offs, I needed additional spring to hop me over the next bump 'cause, again, I wasn't going fast enough. Even Short's trick little steering stabilizer, hidden behind the front numberplate was set too stiff for me, and I'm used to those things. We loosened it, and I was happy.
We got to blast or smash around the track till we were sore and even rode under the lights. And just to prove my point about it being the rider and not the bike, I lined up for a few practice starts with Hahn, Weimer and even 450-mounted Preston. After about five times, I had my launch dialed. No matter what I did within 10 feet, I got yanked about a half a bike length. So much for having the best bike!
Honda has had a pretty good run of championships over the years, and the company definitely wants to have more. By constantly trying to improve everything around it in racing, it has made a commitment that is expensive and time-consuming, and often the benefits are not immediately tangible in dollars. It helps the brand image, it creates a perception and sometimes this racing commitment trickles down to production stuff you and I can buy. There is a reason riders dream of being on Team Honda. Because it is what it is.

It's actually a pretty lonely...

It's actually a pretty lonely place, yet at the same time a field of dreams for any moto junkie.

Travis Preston

Matt Armstrong came out to...

Matt Armstrong came out to wreck himself. Putting a struggling privateer on factory equipment does that sort of thing.