Part 1: Undeniably Fearless
It has been over a century since the last of America's infamous board track motordromes ran their final death-defying contests. Today, it is hard to grasp just how sensational it would have been to sit in the grandstands, watching men whip around the steep inclines of the country's timber bowls onboard raw, fire-breathing machines. In 1912, the height of the motordrome craze in the United States, the fastest the average citizen was ever accustomed to going would have been by train, topping out around 45 MPH. Yet, for the small cost of admission, most anyone could gather under the arc lights of their local board track saucer and watch men reach double that pace as they past in a blur. The age of the motordrome was nothing if not visceral. The tracks steeply banked walls of rough-sawn timber, laid on end, enclosed by guard rail posts and electric lights, often with wiring exposed that would potentially ignite any fuel source if clipped. The machines were geared for a single purpose, flat out speed, with no throttle, suspension, brakes, or transmissions—all power, all the time. And then there were the riders, men of true grit who mounted such beasts with little more protection than a wool sweater and leather cap. To compete was to be fearless, and one man, a pioneer of the sport, daring and competitive, personified the American motordrome racer to the degree that he became known simply as that; fearless.