JANUARY 13, 2006
These mild Canadian temperatures must be forcing bears out of their dens because we were beginning to think that Todd Kuli had gone into hibernation after his last column. He calls the office about 20 times a day when he’s on schedule, but goes into hiding when he’s late. So we think we have found the perfect way to keep him at bay: assign tight deadlines! He threw us a curveball with this column and submitted a retro article (if you can call 2003 retro) and left us scrambling for photos. Well, Dailey dug deep into the digital archives and found a few of our aspiring author from the RJ’s national in 2003. Here is issue #3.
It was a beautiful Friday night in June. Our team, the Blackfoot Honda Thor team to be exact, had just finished dinner at a really nice Italian restaurant. Another team was dining there as well, but their team jackets were just a little different from ours … they looked a little tattered and used, almost grungy. I just figured that they didn’t have the fat budget that we enjoyed, poor souls. Their team was called the Hell’s Angels. Let's just say that even I am smart enough to keep my mouth shut when a real factory team is around. I’m sure their dinner conversation wasn’t about jetting specs and suspension settings!
It was only two days before the opening round of the 2003 CMRC Canadian Nationals at Mission, BC. I was excited and really looking forward to my first official race as a legitimate mechanic for the powerhouse Blackfoot team. A week of testing in Calgary the month prior to the race was great, but now we were about to experience the real thing. In 12 hours we would be in the show for the first time as a group.
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Joe Skidd (left) and Todd Kuli with Randy Valade's Championship winning CR125. "Hey Kuli, get back to the truck and get out the power washer." |
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photo by Brett Dailey |
As we wandered back into the hotel, I noticed a stunningly attractive blonde having a little technical difficulty with the pop machine. Being the ultra-helpful guy that I am, I decided to offer the damsel in distress some assistance. As I approached, she smiled and confirmed that she was not able to get any soda out of the machine. My senses we tingling and I instantly realized that she was a “Merican.” She was attempting to use U.S. change in the machine and it wasn’t working. So I pulled out a loonie and saved the day! [Insert superhero music here.] We chatted briefly and I asked her what she was doing in Canada. She said that she was up north for the motocross race. Now if there is ever a time to use your clout as a factory team member, it is with beautiful women who know the sport of motocross.
Something just didn’t feel right. I had been talking to my new attractive friend for over two minutes and the Andrew McLean Landscaping Company hadn’t pulled up yet. Usually, he has the lawn mowers out and is trying to cut my grass within seconds of me interacting with a female.
At this point I asked the southern angel what her connection was to the race. She smiled and said that her husband was racing. I casually asked who her husband was and changed course for a smooth and dignified getaway. As this was all going on, I noticed that the rest of the boys where standing at a safe distance watching me work my magic: the S.S. Toddtanic was cruising along at medium throttle. She smirked ever so playfully and said, “My husband is Damon Huffman.”
At that moment, the proverbial iceberg tore a mile-long gash in my hull. An eruption of laughter came from my colleagues … I guess they knew who the lovely blonde haired woman was. As I stood there red-faced, Heidi gave a kind smile and disappeared with her soda.
The next morning we arrived at the track early and started on final preparations. The riders arrived an hour or so later and I was just dreading the razzing I was about to take from Huff Daddy. He walked under the tent and made the comment, “So I hear you met my wife last night?” Of course, everyone stopped what they were doing and waited for my response. I said the only thing that came to my mind: “Sure did H-Diddy. You owe me a buck for the pop!"
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"...yes boss." |
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photo by Brett Dailey |
Throughout the rest of the season, I had the opportunity to get to know both Damon and Heidi. If you have ever have the chance to talk with either of them, you will know what genuinely nice people they really are. I can say it was an honour to be on the same team as a rider of Damon's calibre. Spending time with Damon was always interesting, he always had a joke or prank to play and he is a veritable surgeon behind the wheel of a rental car. More than once I was rear-ended by Huffy going down the highway or at a stoplight. Although, I am proud to say that I did win the race back to the hotel in Moncton using a crafty line through the gas station parking lot which featured a four-foot drop. Who knew mid sized sedans flew so well?
At the end of the 2005 season, Damon Huffman quietly drove out of the Walton pit area and into Canadian MX history as one of the smoothest and fastest racers to ever grace our tracks. He will be missed for his skills on a motorcycle and more importantly, for his easy going personality and effortless ability to make people smile.
Thank you, Damon, for the three years you gave to Canadian motocross fans. I want wish you, Heidi and your new son, Max, the best of everything in the future. Don’t be a stranger and remember you and your family are always welcome in Canada!
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Thanks Damon. |
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photo by Brett Dailey |
