The CZ and the unicorn

Fresh back from a real ass-kicker of an Idaho trip, the post-partum hadn’t set in.  My body was still in recovery mode from 10-days of hard riding with a rest day sprinkled in. Scrolling through “old-school selling site that shall remain nameless”, like any good addict would, my unicorn appeared.    

Rare 1972 Husqvarna 125 MXer  

Looking through the images, I could tell she was rough, and I didn’t care. The first year of a small-bore, and it’s a Husky, AND it has a yellow tank!? I could see us together, ripping flat turns in the desert as the sunset, cow trailing like Malcom.   

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A whole grip of CZ’s and a Bultaco, and some other Bultaco that looked like every café racer’s wet dream.  The CZ’s looked rough, and with potential. We didn’t know much about CZs.   I showed TF, made the case that we should go get the Husky, and look at these other bikes.  “We don’t have to buy ‘em...”  and then I laid it on HEAVY.  All I know, is that some dude down in Southern California makes these hopped-up CZ’s and they are the shit. And Roger Decoster and Brad Lackey rode CZs. I got his wheels turning.  The bikes were near Santa Paula, minimum 8-hours drive one-way. We hadn’t completely unpacked from Idaho, and TF was set to be in LA for work a week later. Addicts do wild things. 

We talked about it; do we have a problem? Is this an addiction?  Are we trying to get another ‘high’ before the post-mototrip-downers set in?  Or is this us making an investment in learning a new skill and having boarder experiences? Is this a financial investment?  I called the fella from the ad, we talked, I asked about the Husky, and told him I was interested.  He agreed to hold it.  

The next morning we left early, enjoying some more windshield time cruising south on 395.  

A nice pitstop for stretching

Not wanting to assess motos in the dark, we agreed to meet the next morning, bright and early. There were goodies tucked everywhere, cool old racing t-shirt, jerseys, more bikes, gas tanks, and loads of random bits. CZ's a Bultaco, numerous bits, pieces, engines, and the unicorn were locked and loaded. We made our way back home, stopping in a small town along 395 for some caffeine to fuel the rest of our journey. When you have a trailer full of CZ’s you’re bound to attract some attention. A nice gentleman in his 60’s came up with his wife to tell us about his youth spent racing CZs. Then, like clockwork a local feller popped up to tell us about how he used to ride CZ in the hills ‘round here. "Just over there", he pointed toward the mountains, there used to be hundreds of miles of trails here.

We made it home, unloaded, and started inspecting each bike more closely. Taking each one down to its barest form, cleaning, making notes on what needs attention. We went to work on starting and riding the unicorn. She was loud, spunky, lightweight, and fast, she was just right. Knowing she runs and drives is great. We set her aside, knowing the bend from a loop out would be more than we could fix in our shop in that moment.

Next was TF’s CZ 250. We were unsure of its condition. We were told that the engine has just been re-built by a reliable Southern California CZ guy, and that all the bits were there, they appeared to be, we had to locate another kickstarter, as this one has the notorious chip out of the housing. Getting this bike race-ready had a lot of engery for him. From building clutch and brake cables to rebuilding shocks, forks, and packing bearings, this ole girl was proving to be a ton of fun.  

The winter was harsh. Cold, wet, and very dreary, perfect for riding trials and building trails. As spring came, so too did the Virgina City Grand Prix. TF was determined to race the CZ in the Vintage class. With only a few weeks left before the race he went to work full gas on the CZ rebuild. Making parts, waiting on parts, waiting on warm weather to paint, it all takes time. With a week to go he started and rode the CZ 250 for the first time. A few laps around the back 40, a few sand washes, chunky uphills, and some slippy downhills, they were ready for the VCGP.  

Race Day 

I was timing his laps, and judging when he would want gas. He was closing the gap each lap on the leaders. The husky came through, the yammer-hammer came through, my CZ mounted man should be here in a minute. And then he wasn’t. He came racing into the pits, he was covered in dust, sweat, and gas, one of his rear shocks was hanging by a bolt with the spring MIA. From out of nowhere a group of older gentlemen emerged, swarmed the bike, helped with all things gas, tools, a cloth for wiping, water for drinking and washing. It was magical, and he was off for another lap. By lap 5 he had made back his time. When he came around from is final lap, he was close, but had slipped in time. Rolling through the checkers he had a huge smile, he took off his pack and pulled out his spring. “I knew it was in this one general area, so when I went through each lap I looked, then on the final lap it was there, so I stopped for it, those early works performance springs aren’t easy to find.” 

Success!