Jodys Box

When people find out I’m a motocross racer, they always ask me the same questions
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I have to admit that I was a little perturbed that Dave never lifted a hand to help me. He sat on the tailgate of the Jodymobile and told Jimmy Mac all the gruesome details of how he survived
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Astronomers predicted that a 1100-foot wide chunk of interplanetary debris had a good chance of impacting smack dab in the middle of one of the 38,000 McDonald's on the planet
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My doctor said, "I can operate on it right now and it will hurt for six months or I can leave it alone and it will hurt for six months. Your choice."
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Yes, my elbows are down. I'm sitting side-saddle. I'm leaning the bike right while my weight is on the left and I'm not looking down the track. All wrong by conventional standards. But, this wasn't a conventional corner as anyone who ever…
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Modern helmet visors are not long enough to block the sun and are mounted too high to protect your goggles from roost. What's the point? Today's visor is like the hood ornament on a car—shiny and bright but useless.
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Never tell your mechanic that you think the dogs on third gear are worn out before checking to see if there are any teeth on your countershaft sprocket
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I can tell you all of the racetracks that I hated, but I cant explain why I kept going back to them
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When it comes to motocross, how could I have known better before I did it.
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A quick lesson on how to answer the questions that people who come up to you at the gas station ask about motorcycle racing
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Oh, to be unspoiled again. If only I could return to the halcyon days when I didn’t know anything about the good life. Speed and its rewards changed what motocross was all about for me
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Whenever my buddies complain about a modern track being too one-line, too dusty, too muddy or too fast, I tell them about AMA Nationals tracks that were a lot worse than the track we are at.
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Everybody is a critic. They give you the third-degree after the races, like you might have committed a crime.
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Warm thoughts of the Griffon, Gold Star, Cyclone, Big Horn, Sand Spider, Green Streak, Capra, Thunderdog, Pursang, Mudlark, Challenger, El Bandido, Combat Wombat, Victor, Woodsman2
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How the single most famous obstacle in motocross history happened & it changed American motocross by happenstance
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“Motorcycle racing isn’t about motorcycles. It’s about the people you meet and the experiences you have."
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I have lots of stories. Some of them are truer than others, but all of them are based on a kernel of fact.
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Not your most unforgettable—his
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There is a quantum difference between men and woman and no where is that more evident that at the races
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Motocross is, without a doubt, the biggest bargain in motorsports. Not only can you buy world-class equipment, but pay all the entry fees and gas for a season for less than what one of those fancy side-by-sides cost.
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In professional motocross, stickers aren’t just colorful decorations, they are the currency of the sport.
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Make no mistake about it, there are still a few Hodaka parts left on this Super Combat, but not many — also his one-off 250 Thunderdog is shown
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I only grudgingly gave up my Cub Scout uniform for the duller Boy Scout uniform. It was like going from Imperial Star Trooper to the garbage collector
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Take this opportunity to laugh at your Vet racer friends because the lord knows they are laughing at you
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Racing motorcycles demands determination, skill and a willingness to hang it out, but it requires just as much in the Novice class as it does in the Pro class. It’s not the speed—it’s the degree of difficulty—personal or external, that…
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When you lend out as many tie-downs and tools as I have, you know that as soon as they leave your hand, there is a signpost up ahead that reads "the next stop is the Twilight Zone"
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I hate it when people ask me to ride their bike, especially when their bike screams “trust fund baby."
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"Since I am not bound by any contracts, I can use whatever I want—afterall, no one is actually emulating my person tastes or riding style."
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The loudmouth, crude and base clarions of our sport are not my cup of tea—the more I see or hear of them, the deeper I retreat into my barn
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I remember that bike vividly; the transmission looked like a watermelon and the air-cooled cylinder was shaped like a pine cone. Gary Jones had one just like it and, even today, we revel in telling stories about how bad it was.
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