Crutcher’s Corner | Jeff Joins The Valve & Cam Cult
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PHOTO | Brandon Roland
If you need a recap of who I am, click (Michael, please insert a link to my search results or however you work your magic) here. Usually, you’ll find me taking a heady approach to unpacking my own thoughts about motocross. You could probably label me as a weird-thought-thinker, anti-authoritarian, all over the map fence sitter. I don’t take the narrative seriously, but I also don’t keep tin foil hats in my bunker. Let’s begin this week’s dissertation.
A handful of weeks ago I went to Oklahoma Motorsports Complex and raced against some top tier talent. Most of them on 450’s. The concrete pad that the gate fell upon made my starts fit for a blooper reel. I caught the action on GoPro and legitimately didn’t post the video because of how terrible I was launching out of the gate as my two-stroke powered rear wheel spun. We’ve all seen the Charmin commercials, where they place marbles on toilet paper and start dropping blue water to illustrate how likely you are to have a finger slip through during a critical hygiene operation. The starts at OMC were the first drops of blue water.
At this point, right now, I can’t even tell you what the Kool-Aid is. Am I taking the funnel from the manufacturers and strapping on my knee pads by riding a four-stroke? Or is my ego and inability to accept the reality of a dying dream the proverbial glass pitcher filled to the sweaty brim, the actual drink that’s flavor profile is better described with colors instead of food (purple or grape)? I’ve been building the wall between myself and the way technology is going 10 feet higher every year I continue to ride two strokes. It’s now been 23 years of research and development cranked to 11 for the thumper class of motocross bikes. Jerry Robin can ride an ’88 CR250 competitively, but I have a feeling a ’98 YZ400 doesn’t stand a chance.
2014 was the last time I rode a KTM 450, and it was a 2013 model, the first year of the KTM fuel injection. The bike was large, beastly, and still vintage feeling to an extent with rotational mass. I qualified for Loretta’s in Plus 25 on the 450 and Pro Sport on my 250 two-stroke. That four-stroke motorcycle was pre-selectable mapping and before the AER fork. I typically toe the orange company line and the bike was good for the year, yet I wasn’t sold on four-strokes and continued down my path on two-strokes for the next six and a half years.
Three weeks ago was the Justin Brayton Shootout at Tony Wenck’s classic Riverside Raceway. Still racing my lone wolf 250 two-stroke, I knew starts were going to be an absolute bitch in the Plus 25 A class, which by the way may be classified as a Vet Class but by every right is essentially the “We all have our pro licenses, work full time, show up at Millville and RedBud and fuck up the timed qualifying charts for the championship chasers” division of the weekend. I got annihilated off the start in every moto except 250 Pro Sport, where I went into the first corner in Moto One sitting fifth of 30 racers. That eats at me.
Before the JB10 race, I went riding with some friends and had a mechanical mishap with my throttle cable on the 250 SX, which sidelined me early in the afternoon. On-brand for friendly Midwestern folks, my buds let me finish out my day on their bikes. I split two solid motos on a 2020 Honda 450 and a 2019 Kawasaki 450. Both were great in their own rights, and I came away preferring the Team Green over the Wing. Both of those motos were another drop of blue water on my Charmin.
On the way home from Iowa and behind the wheel of my 7.3 Ford van, I did my own H.W.Y.W. with a cool coffee buzz and the stale-to-me vistas of northern Missouri. The marble fell through. I text Ryan Holm at Cycle Zone, race team manager and sales guy for the KTM dealer I raise coat of arms for, to get me a price on a 450. By 9 AM Tuesday he hit me with the OTD and I was at the bank at 9:30 AM. The 250 SX assaulter with its kit(ish) suspension, aftermarket parts-book bling, and high-performance race fuel was going to be parked, torn down, and re-cranked while I turn against my faith and walk toward the evil demagogue I’ve held my Goldfire filled crucifix against unwaveringly.
Mmmmmm-mmmm this Kool-Aid is tasty! I gotta say, I’m REAL impressed with the improvements from the 2013 model I had experienced prior to this bike. My time spent on 450s since they were introduced include an 05 RMZ, an 08 Team Green, and the 13 Pumpkin. Pretty minimal, the three models. Sure, the power of the four-stroke has been superior for a long time, but the rideability has been second-class to the handling of a two-stroke. But now, after all the R&D done to keep making these bikes lighter, nimbler, and less brutish, they have pushed past the handling of a 250 two-stroke. My blood is boiling as I type that out because for so long I’ve been Dr. Premix.
Yesterday, I went riding at Challenge Trax and had the time of my life on my new Pumpkin. Even with completely stock suspension she still handles and does things so exceedingly well, things that would take 25-30% more effort to do on a two-stroke. I acquaint this era of four-stroke chassis handling closer to a jet-ski than I do a motorcycle, as the only way to get the bike to turn is on the throttle, because if you aren’t gassing it through a rut these four-stroke bikes turn into a four-sheet Schooner starting to tip with a rogue wave coming in at the port. Throttle through and everything activates like a finely tuned machine, not like the older four strokes akin to PBR’s Little Yellow Jacket where they did what they want at high torque equipped with a liability of suspension. Gotta admit I’m wildly impressed.
Don’t worry, I’m keeping the 250 SX assaulter for the 250 Pro Sport classes. I’m just tired of getting beat by people that (in my kind opinion) have zero business seeing the checkers before I do in 450 Pro Sport and the Plus classes. We’re about to find out if this 450 is the key to the door I’m newly interested in unlocking as I return to Riverside for the North Central Vet Super Regional this weekend. For a few years, I’ve been pretty content with riding my two strokes, turning cheek to reality and the R&D teams. Often times I would tell myself, “I don’t want to go that fast anymore” or “If I lose because of my bike, so be it.” The desire within me to be more competitive and yearning for better results has my iron hot, and I can’t stand here looking at the neon red glow, Billyhammer above my head, and not strike that bitch down as hard as I physically can. I do want to go that fast.
-Jeff
