Indian’s Big Base 8-valve was the very concept of speed, raw and uncompromising, distilled by one of the most talented engineering pioneers specifically for the task at being unbeatable yet refined in its simplicity as only Oscar Hedstrom could accomplish. And for that, the Big Base remains a legendary machine, equal parts brutality and elegance, the embodiment of the thrilling age of the board track motordrome, … and in a word, a purebred.
In early September 1910, Ray Seymour returned home to California as one of the world's top motorcycle racers. He was the newest recruit on Indian's dominant factory team as an understudy of the undisputed greatest motorcycle racer in the world, Jacob DeRosier. Only four years prior, Seymour had thrown his leg over a motorcycle for a race at LA's Agriculture Park for the first time, but in 1910, he returned with the crown of National Amateur Champion resting on top of his dusty blonde hair. He reacquainted himself with California's warm winter climate with a few dirt track races in San Jose before returning to Los Angeles. Once home in LA in late September, Seymour and his Indian cohorts soon gathered to assault the records at the large 1-mile wooden circle at Playa Del Rey.
GRIT - A History of Board Track Racing
A three-part documentary examining the history of the American Motordrome.
Often conflated with carnival thrill shows and the massive wooden speedways of the 1920s, America's original timber race tracks, called motordromes, were dangerous and exhilarating saucers where the toughest of the tough went elbow to elbow for a taste of the glory and the gold. For just 5 short years between 1909 and 1914, only 26 of these perilous stadiums were ever built, many having only hosted motorcycle races for a season or two. Still, inside their steeply banked walls, the heroes of a thrilling and often deadly sport captivated the country, cementing a legacy and mythology which continues to sends chills through those that learn about it.
Head to the Archive Moto Youtube Channel to watch the trailer for GRIT, a three part documentary series looking at the history board track racing, one of America’s most infamous and sensational sports.
On 328 acres of farmland just north of Indianapolis and at the cost of an estimated $350,000, America gained its first closed circuit raceway, the 2.5-mile-long Indianapolis Motor Speedway, in the late summer of 1909. Rushed to completion for the Federation of American Motorcyclist's National Meet that August, the imposing speedway was like nothing seen before, with massive grandstands capable of seating 10,000, bleacher seating at the turns to accommodate even more spectators, concessions buildings, a state-of-the-art garage paddock, and medical facilities. The pace required to complete such a compound proved to be a bit too hasty, and reports from its first observers likened it to a dirt road sprinkled with a loose layer of crushed stone. Today, the IMS holds a reputation as one of the preeminent auto racing tracks in the world, but upon its unveiling, the first competition to take place at Indianapolis was a motorcycle race, and 18-year-old Ray Seymour, the California Wonder arrived to unleash his Reading-Standard racing special.
For too long, the life and accomplishments of Ray Seymour, one of America’s most successful pioneer motorcycle racers, have gone unacknowledged. Like so much of the remarkable history of American motorcycle racing, Seymour’s story has largely been lost over time. Perhaps it is because of his steady and reserved personality compared to his more bombastic and temperamental contemporaries like Jacob DeRosier or Charlie Balke. Maybe his avoidance of tragedies like those that cut short the lives of countless young racers, like his close friend and teammate Eddie Hasha, shielded him from a similar infamy. Unlike later generations of professional racers like Jim Davis and Joe Petrali, Seymour was among the first class of motorcycle racers, long since out of the game by the time the sport reached its height. Still, he was in his prime at the height of the infamous age of board track motordromes and excelled because of his skill, athleticism, and temperament, outliving many of his pioneering friends and conquering nearly every podium and record of his time.
Archive Moto, the little research project that began with Georgia Motorcycle History has grown yet again! I am excited to now be producing videos in a continued effort to preserve and share the remarkable history of American motorcycle culture. It is a new chapter for the project, supported by enthusiasts who have become members of the Archive Moto Patreon. Both the Patreon community and the Youtube channel are young but growing, and if you enjoy the articles, videos, and books, consider helping support the project by Subscribing to the channel, liking videos, and sharing them. If you would like to support this research and help keep quality content rolling out, considering joining the Archive Moto Patreon community for as little as $5.
Beyond that, the mission is to preserve and share this history, so the best thing you can do to help is simply enjoy reading and watching, and share what you like with the folks who’d like it too.
As it did around the globe, the Great Depression served as a grand a catalyst within American motorcycle culture. Both the sport and the industry were forced to adapt to the economic decline in and the changes spawned an entirely new culture. Indian and Harley further refined their smaller 45 cubic inch models, packing them with value, and leaning into a focus on design to weather the storm. With the addition of the American motorcycle Associations professional 45 class, both companies newest machines became American favorites. Still, the financial crisis marked the end of the road for Excelsior Motorcycles, one of America’s Big Three manufacturers who had been in business since 1908. Despite having found success on both the road and the track, including being one of Indian’s fiercest competitors in the golden age of the motordrome, Excelsior shuttered its doors in 1931, leaving Springfield and Milwaukee to duke it out for supremacy.
The early years of the roaring twenties represent the first high water mark in professional motorcycle racing. It was a period when sophisticated machines were let loose by men of true and unrelenting grit. In the previous decade, motorcycle racing had bloomed into several forums, and the spectacle enthralled the country. By the early 1920s, racers had kicked-up tails of dirt and dust on flat tracks, kept the enthusiasts breathless on the edge of the motordrome bleacher, and stretched the capabilities of iron and rubber on the colossal board track speedways to their limits. Still, by the latter half of the decade, the sport, as well as the industry, was in significant decline, and the high waters of the golden age of motorcycle racing began receding.
In the years preceding WWI, motorcycle racing in the United States had grown from low-speed grudge matches on local horse tracks to unrestrained, factory-supported speed blitzes on motordromes, flat tracks, and superspeedways. With Harley-Davidson entering the sport in 1914, the two central competing brands, Indian and Excelsior, found themselves in a three-way battle against a well-funded and laser-focused adversary. Local dirt flat tracks continued to rise in popularity, and the Dodge City 300 became the sport's premier race. Still, as the gates of America's infamous board track saucers, the fabled motordromes closed, a new breed of track soon emerged.
I’m looking into re-releasing my first book, Georgia Motorcycle History soon. It was a project which marked the beginning of my interest in writing about this unique history back in 2013 which was funded with the support of the community. Though it was a narrow niche the response was inspiring, and after 3 pressings sold to enthusiasts in over 20 countries I fell in love with researching motorcycle history and decied I wanted to do what I could to help preserve stories from the early days of this rich culture of ours. The project quickly evolved into Archive Moto, and I have thuroughly enjoyed the ooportunity to dig deeper into my passion, connect and collaborate with so many like-minded folks, and share in this collective interest. GMH has been sold out for the better part of 5 years now, and though the printing house in Georgia I used to produce it is no longer available, I have been exploring ways to have another pressing.