The Return of A World Champion

The Return of a World Champion

Bruce Penhall slid his way into motorcycle history before a crowd of 90,000 screaming speedway fans at England’s Wembley Stadium. Not only did he qualify for the World Finals, he won. And became the first American to claim the title of Speedway World Champion since Jack Milne won his world championship almost 44 years ago. For Penhall, of Balboa, California, it marked a major personal goal and the satisfaction of a job well done.

“It took me about seven years,” grins the handsome, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, 24-year-old Penhall. “I started racing speedway at Costa Mesa (Orange County Fairgrounds) back in high school. I rode there every weekend. It’s a short track (U.S. Speedway tracks are about one eighth mile with a clay base and European tracks are long, quarter to half mile, and cinder-based) but good training for European style.” U.S. speedway bikes put out about 60 horsepower, depending who tunes the engine. The long track bikes produce about 70 horsepower and hit 90 mph before the rider stuffs it into a corner. The fuel is alcohol. Displacement is limited to 500cc and all the motors are four-stroke Singles. Names like Maeley, Jawa, GR 500 and Weslake dominate the sport. Some have single overhead cams, some have dohc arrangements. No gearbox, just straight power through the dry clutch and a jackshaft. There is no suspension, just a rigid frame and forks. And, oh yes, no brakes—speedway bikes slow down by engine compression, 12:1 to 16:1, and by pitching the bike over and working the throttle to WEO.

“We don’t wear MX type gearlike shoulder pads and chest protectors—because of the added weight,” declares Bruce. “It’s kind of dumb, I guess. It’s okay to fall off here. But, if you fall off over there, it takes a long time to get up— sometimes you don’t get up at all. I’ve lost a couple of friends that way already.”

A speedway championship includes a busy schedule of worldwide events. Bruce Penhall calls England home during the season. He races in the British League, and travels all over Europe. “It’s a tough way to live,” continues Bruce. “I drive about 1000 mi. per week and have about 350 hours in the air this year. If I get one day a month off. I’m lucky. I keep 1 2 longtrack bikes in five countries. And 1 have, let’s see,” Penhall pauses as he counts on his fingers, “one mechanic in Germany, an American in England, two mechanics jn the U.S., and one in Australia for the Winter League. I ran about 200 races this year.

You can say I eat, sleep and breathe motorcycles—speedway to be exact.”

Does he miss racing in the United States? “Yes, I used to get homesick,” reveals Bruce. “But over there, I live for speedway. It's my way of life. I’m single, I travel a lot, and I love racing. I’m so busy, I don’t have time to get homesick.” Penhall relates that it wasn’t all good times when he started in Europe. “New riders aren't liked very much over there,” says Penhall, “until you beat ’em a few times. Then you get some respect. That's from the racers as well as the spectators. And it doesn’t matter if you’re an American or what country you come from.”

The scene is Orange County Fairgrounds in Costa Mesa, California. There’s a turn-away crowd, the small stadium packed with 10.000 speedway fans for the last night of the summer-long season and a week before the U.S. Speedway Nationals. It's a points race for the season regulars, a qualifier for the Nationals— and the World Champion has returned in triumph. Bruce Penhall hasn’t raced a full season in the U.S. in four years, but his name has not been forgotten by the crowd—especially the women. They call him The Fox, for obvious reasons. There are women everywhere: calling his name and hoping for a signature. It reminds one of a rock concert, not a motorcycle race. Penhall is continually asked for autographs, which he gladly signs. Everybody wants to congratulate the World Champion.

California's Bruce Penhall is the First American to Win the Speedway World Championship in 44 years.

Joel Breault

PenhalFs racing starts tonight in the fourth event. It’s a handicap heat—five laps, staggered start with Bruce on the 40 yard line (he must play catch-up to win) with the first three finishers transfering up the ladder. There must be a zillion events at this typical race evening. It's fast, fun and very confusing to watch. Penhall enters the arena like a returning gladiator. The crowd gives him a loud, goose-bumpraising welcome. Penhall sits astride his short track bike, scoops some dirt with his hands and rubs it on the bike’s seat and the seat of his leathers—seemingly oblivious to his surroundings, getting his race face ready. On cue, the five bikes in this heat bump start and head for the starting gate.

The gate shoots straight up, and Penhall takes the outside line. The entire heat is over in about 90 seconds, and it is almost impossible to keep up with who is where and when. Suddenly, it’s over, for the moment anyway. The Champ finishes third, transfers to event number seven and retires to the pits.

As he walks around the pits, Bruce signs more autographs and greets old pals. And, he returns to the pit wall to watch each heat; watching his friends and checking track conditions. He is full of nervous energy. He smiles at everybody. He’s constantly walking, checking things out. And signing autographs.

Soon, it’s time for Penhall's next event. He doesn’t do well. “I’ll get the hang of it,” smiles a relaxed Penhall.

After another walk from his bike to the pit wall, scribbling autographs along the way and greeting more fans, Bruce is back on the moist clay track. This time though, he puts himself into the wall outside turn two like a hockey player in a sliding board check. He runs along the wall, the tiny racer bucking and looking for traction. Penhall gets control! In microseconds, he’s back in command and waves to the crowd with his clutch hand before he drops into the third corner. The crowd goes nuts, even though he finishes a distant last.

It’s half-time and the track is being groomed. Bruce Penhall is summoned to the center of the arena. Again a standing ovation from the 10,000 speedway fans. Penhall stands with the FIM World Speedway perpetual cup tucked tightly under his arm—mute testimony to the many hours of dedication he has undeniably invested in obtaining his goal. The mayor of Costa Mesa appears and presents a special award and proclaims Bruce Penhall Day. More applause. Next, a representative from Orange County presents a proclamation. And then former champion Jack Milne is introduced.

An elated Penhall salutes the crowd as he turns in a 360-degree circle and returns to the pits.

More racing. This time, the World Champ does a better job, holding down third spot. It’s back to the pits, pace a bit more, do a TV interview and sign a few autographs.

In his last event of the night the racing is heads-up—no handicap start. The starting gate lifts and Bruce shoots forward. He shoots into the first corner and comes out first. Action is quick. Penhall dives close to the apex and comes out wide. Full throttle at all times. He takes the checkered on the fifth lap. As he runs the very short straight before the finish line, Penhall lofts the front wheel about three feet and crosses up. The crowd comes unglued.

It’s the end of the U.S. Speedway year, except for the Nationals. Points are tallied, awards presented. Penhall returns to the pits to change to street clothes—shorts and a striped surfer-style shirt. He signs more autographs. And appears to have the same energy level as four hours prior. Penhall has no time to party after the races. He must leave Los Angeles at seven the next morning, fly to England, hookup with his British friends and fly to Italy for a race on Sunday.

Like the man said, “I eat, sleep and dream motorcycles—speedway to be exact. I live for speedway.”

That’s why America's Bruce Penhall is the 1981 World Speedway Champion. S