Round Up
ROUND UP
JOE PARKHURST
GOOD NEWS for fans of CYCLE W0RLD RECORDS — the high fidelity recordings from Stanley Schofield's Sound Stories of the 1967 Isle of Man TT are soon to be available. Through a new arrangement with Capitol Records, we will press them here, direct from the marvelous E.M.I. magnetic tapes supplied from England.
The biggest advantage for us, and of course to pass on to our customers, is that we can now offer the TT records much sooner, and in time for Christmas. The 1967 recordings return to the original twovolume style, and we can offer them at a special "set" price (see the advertisement on page 75 of this issue). I'm covering this at the risk of making Round Up sound like a paid commercial. But I am so pleased to be able to offer these fantastic recordings I get carried away.
The realism, clarity and genuine excitement captured on these records is outstanding. Schofield's ace engineer Gordon Pitt pitted (sorry) his skills against the almost insurmountable problems of recording out of doors, maintaining audio quality, yet capturing the accuracy and fullness of the sounds. Japanese grand prix machines present the worst problems as they scream at such extreme pitches they almost destroy the delicate recording equipment. Schofield now employs a special rig, designed and built by E.M.I, for such programs. Regardless, the recording and editing require great skill and artistry. My appreciation for Schofield's engineering and artistic achievement, while retaining the accuracy and infinite details of the onthe-spot sounds, makes the job of selling them an easy one.
MOTORCYCLES IN NEW YORK CITY
New York City, an unusual setting for motorcycle problems, has recently set the pace for the kind of activity that will do more in the long run than anything else to improve our image and public acceptance. One recent occasion during August saw Gotham's colorful Mayor John V. Lindsay proclaim a Motorcycle Safety Week. The photograph shows John S. Palmer of New York's Department of Public Events giving an official proclamation from the Mayor's office to Madison Avenue Motorcycle Club president Eric Bogedal. The observance was designed to draw attention to the need for greater motorcycle safety in view of the spectacular increase in
New York's motorcycle and motor scooter registration.
New York's Metropolitan Cycle Association, Inc., a group I have mentioned here before, now has a thing going that may get more attention than the foul fumes issuing from Con-Ed's East River smoke stacks ever received. "Bike-A-Kid-To-The-BallPark-Day" was the official title attached to a day set aside to share their motorcycle enthusiasm with needy youngsters by packing them on machines from mid-town Manhattan to Yankee Stadium for a baseball game. Ted Kupferman, 17th District New York Congressman, took part in the proceedings. The event was given full TV coverage, as well as support and publicity from Stadium officials. Police escorted the event, to the glee of the bike riders. Only experienced riders carried the kids; others formed part of a cavalcade. The children were also returned home by motorcycle, the first ride for most, and the first ballgame for many. It's too bad we don't have some kind of "Cycle World Award"; the M.C.A. would be a hard to beat contender.
WHERE DO YOU WEAR YOUR HELMET?
Reader John Renaud of Dearborn, Mich, sent me a clipping from the Detroit News recently. It describes the actions of
one Bruce Nottingham of Grand Rapids. He was ticketed by a policeman for wearing his safety helmet on his knee instead of his head! Nottingham is challenging Michigan's new compulsory helmet law, contending, "The law just says you have to wear a helmet — it doesn't specify where." After putting his helmet on his head, ordered to do so by the officer who gave him the ticket, Nottingham said, "I got in an accident and hurt my knee."
SAN FRANCISCO MOTORCYCLE SHOW
We often tend to forget that there are other motorcycle shows around the country, since they pale in comparison to the CYCLE WORLD SHOW which the industry supports so wholeheartedly. But, there are others. A show that continues to be unique in several ways is one that will take place in Brooks Hall in San Francisco, November 2nd through 5th.
My praise falls heaviest on the residual eveni that takes place at the same time as the below-ground Brooks Hall display is open. California's American Federation of Motorcyclists stages motorcycle road races in San Francisco's Civic Center, the above-ground area of Brooks Hall. Few can lay claim to a more spectacular race course, and even fewer can boast of the kind of civic support the show and races receive. Nearby is a photo of the A.F.M.'s Ron Grant, at one time a member of CW's ill-fated TEAM CYCLE WORLD, shown with San Francisco Supervisor Jack Ertola and Miss Jackie Hershon. 'Frisco Mayor John Shelley proclaimed the week of the show, Sport Cycle Week.
Official name of the show is Cycle '68. An indoor bicycle race is being staged at the same time, and Evel Knievel, star of the CYCLE WORLD SHOW, will perform as well.
(Continued on page 8)
HENRY KOEPKE
A few lines on the inside page of a newspaper, a telegram, a time of sorrow, sure, but that's not how I'll remember Henry Koepke. A grin, not a statistic, that's the way he'd want it to be.
I first met Henry in January, 1964, when I was invited to Athena, Oregon, to see a then-new motorcycle. Pacific Basin Trading Co. (PABATCO) was, at the time, distributor of the Japanese-built Yamaguchi, which CYCLE WORLD had previewed in 1962. PABATCO had employed the services of a man who was to become a national hero of sorts, and, to my great pleasure, one of the genuine friends I have had in the motorcycle industry.
Henry Koepke was his name, a name often misspelled, as often mispronounced — to Henry's great good humor.
That January, in 1964, I was shown a handsome little motorcycle named Hodaka, then being manufactured by the firm that supplied the Yamaguchi before it started to slide toward financial disaster. PABATCO rescued the failing firm, injected some of Koepke's ideas, and gave birth to the bike that stood the American lightweight motorcycle market on its ear. Henry was responsible for this motorcycle revolution. Henry designed the Hodaka. The machine emerged a winner, the product of his experience and know-how with the Japanese Yamaguchi in the American frame of reference.
As PABATCO's sales manager, Henry raised the odd little red bike to number
one sales spot in the American trail machine market. He did this with a machine that comes in one color, one model — with no variations. This is no mean feat, but Henry predicted it could be done in just this way.
In the pages of CYCLE WORLD, I've called Henry "genial genius," and misspelled his name in the same paragraph. He always thought my boo-boos were funny and, as a result, I always received one of his telephone calls, typically long, invariably humorous, always welcome. If to say he often brightened my days seems trite, I apologize, but it's true. Henry had the capacity to reduce the most troublesome situation to a light, refreshing exchange of jibes. He smiled his way through everything, often disarmingly. It wasn't that one didn't know when he was angry. He simply eased any misunderstanding with a joke. His mind always ran at 100 mph, working on ways to promote the Hodaka, set up a new dealer, get out of the office for coffee, call someone to give him a bad
time, return to Japan — or get out of the office for a drink. To say that Henry and I were drinking buddies is putting it mildly. Everyone that knew Henry regarded him as a friend. He had a marvelous knack (gift, perhaps?) for establishing strong, personal friendships with whomever he met.
My friend is gone. Henry was killed as he was riding his BMW R27. A car struck Henry's machine. The driver reported, "I didn't see him." The accident occurred on a nasty stretch of road between Athena and Walla Walla in eastern Washington.
For the record, Henry was only 37. He was a native of Walla Walla, and was educated at Washington State College. He is survived by his wife, Charlotte, and three children, the eldest 15 years of age.
Henry rode and enjoyed motorcycles for the greater part of his life.
Perhaps the people who knew Henry best — the ones who'll miss him most — are Adolph Schwarz, Harley-Davidson dealer in Walla Walla, and J. C. Whitney, now retired, and Ed Miley, owners of PABATCO before it became a subsidiary of giant Shell Chemical.
Another one of the good guys, PABATCO service manager Chuck Swanson, steps into Henry's job. Chuck was there that cool winter day that is so strong in my memory. I raved about Henry's brain baby, the Hodaka — I still do.
Henry was a good friend. He'll be missed here, and everywhere else he touched.
Joseph C. Parkhurst
