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The Spirit of Flat Track Racing

Updated: Nov 7

Explore the exploits of the rookie flat tracker Sideways Shakes
Flat Track Racer Sideways Shakes

So, Flat Track Racing huh? Well, honestly, I personally have very humble beginnings when it comes to racing on 2 wheels. I started this whole grand endeavor of motorcycle racing with very little knowledge of what flat track racing really was. The whole thing started down on Bradford Beach in Milwaukee, organically, as most things in life do. I was watching the always exciting hooligan’s race in the sand during the Harley 115th Anniversary. Listening to those V-Twin engines hitting the rev limiter down the straights and slap around in the cushioned sand, I knew right then, I needed to be out there rubbing handlebars with those crazy personalities. So that fall and following winter I hunted up my very own sporty bike and spent those cold nights building a Harley Hooligan track bike in my garage. As I stripped down what can only be described as a very beautiful sportster, I often thought to myself, ‘man, you’re crazy, who does this?’ but with the passion for motorcycles, and a strong will to want to go really fast, I found myself becoming more and more dedicated as time went on. That summer I hauled my newly

minted hooligan bike and gear all around this great state chasing those checkered flags, eating dust, listening, learning, and turning wrenches trying to perfect my machine, and my craft. It was humbling, and that’s a gross understatement. You see, I go out onto that starting grid every weekend for the thrill of competition but that’s not all, it’s the culture of this historic sport that hits home. I learned something over that summer, it’s that the culture within flat track racing is something truly special. It holds virtuous qualities, like helping your fellow racer, teaching each other, and elevating one another to grow. Race days are not only exhilarating, but they are also filled with people that live motorcycles both on and off the track. It’s in the blood. The distinct smell of race fuel, the heavy banging of wrenches against the chaincase, and the very distinct tin clicking sound of steel shoes walking on the gravel pits are things that stick in my mind. From the moment I roll my hooligan bike out onto the gravel pit road, to well after they shut the lights off, my heart is racing!

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