Where there is will there is a way by Robert Bucek

I’ve been at this racing in the dirt for a long time now, about 35 years, and have seen many great and inspirational rides from many types of people in that time. Some have been from riders who have had deep pockets racing the latest tricked out machine with every bell and whistle those pockets could afford. Then there are some rides that always seem to be miraculous because the rider is on that out dated machine sold to them second hand and in poor condition but yet it’s up front fighting for the win. I have always been impressed at how the latter type of rider could take a machine that the previous rider could no longer finish well on and whom may have been the champ with and through hard work and a serious amount of determination then goes out and spanks the riders on those new bell and whistle machines or at least be in contention week after week. The following story is a true story about just another group of racers that had a dream and how they made that dream come true written by one of those guys. It’s about trying, not giving up, and believing that……….

“Where there is will there is a way” sounds like just another one of those countless quotes or sayings we hear from time to time but for us who went on the adventure of a life time it rings oh so true for we proved it. Let me tell you about an adventure a few of my buddies and I went on I’ll leave a lot of the story to your imagination to fill in for it would take me to long to tell the complete unrated story. See it all started back in June of 1989 out on the small pacific island called Guam, just a dot on the map, at an event called the Guam Smokin Wheels which is with out a doubt the largest and longest running off road event in the pacific. Multi time Baja winning atv legend Dean Sundahle was entered in the event and us locals were impressed by his stories and by all that he had accomplished after all this was the guy on the red atc three wheeler jumping across a dune on a poster that hung in my room. Never the less after a great race where I had managed to lead the race for most of the event before getting spanked at the checkers by the legend Dean, the guys and myself were able to get together and do some post race chit chatting.

The idea gets planted
So here we are a bunch of local atv racing, coconut picking jungle boys having a great chat with a real atv star from the mainland where out of no where Dean himself looking real serious tells us he wants us to come and race the Baja 1000. We laughed it off but he said, after we had stopped laughing, that if we could get to his place a couple of weeks before the actual event in November he would help us out. Well that sounded like an invitation to us so to make a long story not as long as this is going to be we started making our plans to travel thousands of miles across the Pacific Ocean to race in a country we had never been to or knew nothing about and so we could enter a race that travels a thousand miles across a desert we knew again nothing about. We were ecstatic to be going and not jobs, family or that hot chick I was checking out were going to stop us.

The plan was implemented
The plan sounded simple and easy enough we would seek out sponsors first and then what ever we fell short on that we needed we would improvise and worry about it later. This is where good credit or credit cards really helped out. After receiving airline sponsorship from Hawain Airlines which included just us or six of us, three to race and three for support, but not for the machine which was a 1989 AK Yamaha sponsored Banshee, we had to take the entire Banshee apart and between the six of us pack our own luggage with the many different parts to be checked in as our baggage. The frame was the only item we ended up having to take to cargo everything else was check in baggage. Looking back now it seems pretty funny but at the time standing at the luggage claims area at LAX after having endured 12 hours in the air plus a three hour lay over in Hawaii where we had change planes to then finally be standing there watching your Banshee parts and underwear going around and around the luggage carousel because your bag had ripped open kind of really sucked. Now I know why my mother said to always pack clean underwear. Mine had that red dirt motocross skid mark on them which I told everyone that I didn’t know who they belonged to it must come from some body else’s bags. They didn’t buy that story nor did they want to help me retrieve my underwear.

We arrived at the motel in LA that first night of our adventure late and planned on getting an early start the next morning. That next morning we broke out the yellow pages and started calling around for a great deal on an RV that would also come and pick us up from the motel. It only took a few phone calls before we got the deal we wanted and 30 minutes after that we were at El Da something or another RV with all our baggage just waiting around for the 1989 27 foot fully loaded home on wheels to be set for us to take off in. Once we were all loaded and aboard our new home we headed for Dean’s house which is down in the San Diego area. After some fancy driving having to make so many u-turns because we were lost or on the wrong freeway and or worse right freeway but wrong direction we finally pulled up to Dean’s home. Of course he wasn’t home but down in Baja pre running the course so we just parked our home right in front of his neighbor’s house and set up shop meaning we Guam boys love to barbeque. After our feast of barbequed chicken and ribs we felt more at home-the case of beer we drank helped that out a bit. According to Deans wife he was expected home the next day so since it was late we all headed to the home on wheels for the first of many nights we would have to sleep in.

Once Dean had returned home from pre running the course and saw the RV and us parked in our new home location he nearly choked and died. It appeared that even after repeated phone conversations with the legend he really never expected us to actually make it and with our Banshee to boot. Dean after catching his breath was really great as he opened up his home and more importantly his garage to us. We set off to reassemble our Banshee and with some help from Dean we were able to acquire a six gallon aluminum fuel tank, which we rubbed a bar of soap on to stop the fuel drips from dripping, and a stator from Ricky Stator to help run our lights. Heck Dean even gave us the tire and wheels he had used for the pre run. We were set and stoked the Banshee we carried all the way from Guam was looking like a real desert racer.

The race
It was a fun and such a great ride that just went on for two days. A long trail ride where when I tried to take my gloves off I couldn’t because they had been tooth picked to my knuckles like nails by all the cactus’s I had plowed over in my efforts to not get stuck again in them damn silt beds. The guys and myself were having the ride of our lives until at about the 800 mile mark we lost the crank bearings in the right side. At this point most if not all the other Atv’s with the exception of Dean were out of the race so if we could just go a little over 200 miles further we would finish second in class. We stood there staring down at the Banshee with its cylinder’s off debating what to do when somebody  said screw it lets just cut the connecting rod as close to the crank as possible and slap it back together, plug the holes and see if it will run. We just didn’t cut the connecting rod we torched it off and slapped her back together where after a few very easy kicks she started right up. This was great she runs but will she move it’s time for the test- after a few runs back and forth around our RV we found out that she would go but with her gearing and only one of her cylinders working first through third were the only gears she could carry. I geared up fast and was on my way with out a second thought and can not believe we made it to the finish with just 20 minutes before the official end of the event to take second place. People thought I was nuts taking off into the desert on the Banshee in the shape it was in but after having traveled in that RV on those roads with those truck drivers down in Mexico I felt I had a better chance of living another day if I was broke down in the middle of a Mexican desert. It was that scary but I hear the roads now are much better.

The long trip home
After a great awards party where we were all thrown in the pool we loaded up the tired but much loved Banshee onto the roof of the RV and started our long journey home. Let me tell you after nearly three weeks of living in a moving box with six other individuals the trip just seemed and took forever kind of like this story and we almost lost a few on that journey home and it wasn’t because of any accidents or close calls either. Once home we all took a long break from each other and proceeded to return to our normal pay check to pay check lives. Now nearly 20 years later I often think back to that event in Mexico and wonder how we ever did it. I guess that quote is true because I can’t figure it out and can only assume we did it because we actually tried and refused to give up. I still race atv’s till this day and although I have had some really memorable times winning countless events and several championships I am still most proud of what us coconut picking locals boys accomplished by finishing second in class during that Baja 1000 nearly 20 years ago.

Written at his home (in Guam) by Robert Bucek because he had needed to remember “why”?