A photographic report
I have been riding dirt bikes for 30 years now. I started in 1977 on an old Honda 90. I raced my first MX race three years later on a 1979 Suzuki RM-125N at the now long defunct and housing developmentified Spanaway Speedway MX track.
Since then there have been words I have heard. Ghostly echoed words sounding as whispers in an empty cathedral. Powerful words. Words that stir emotion, passion, lust, and glory.
Hangtown...
Unadilla...
Carlsbad...
Saddleback...
Words that don't mean much to the average person. But wondrous, legendary words to my secret brotherhood of steel and fire. Mythical words where larger than life heroes met to battle one another. Magic words, and for me, phantom words not quite real, as I had never been to any of these mysterious and sacred places.
But there was one more word:
Washougal
Washougal was real. I had been there. I had seen legends churn its soil and ring the surrounding hills with thunder. Being real, it was all that much more awesome. The legends were real and they flew at this place called Washougal.
I initially got out of Vintage MX three years ago due to family commitments, but when Siege told me there was going to be a Hammer & Tongs race at Washougal I knew I would be there. I knew I would race that day regardless of whether I had a bike of my own, or had to beg one. I knew I would race that day if it cost me my marriage. I knew I would race that day and at that place if it cost me my life. I could be one of them. One of those spirited apparitions I had seen in my youth soaring through the heavens and rending the earth with their fury. I had to. It was one of those life defining events you read about. Maybe it was a mid-life salute to my fading youth. What ever the reason. I knew I would be there. I was. Here's the proof...
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*(Ultra cool Washougal Hammer & Tongs logo at top of these pages Copyright 2007 Siege)
All other images Copyright ©2007 Chris Sehmel