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Salt’s Fast Lady
by Andra Norris photos Mark Norris and Brian Jagger
My dad called me a few nights ago from a party somewhere, sounding upbeat and asked me to write down some thoughts on Bonneville. “Huh?” I asked, as I was collapsing onto my sofa just after eventually getting my kids (one and three) to bed without mutiny. “Tracy’s Bonneville story,” Dad continued, “for posterity.” The thought of writing about this special experience immediately dazzled in my mind, as my sister, Tracy Snyder, is preparing for the ride of her lifetime, and everyone in her wake, me included, is getting caught up in the frenzy with speed fever.
Beginning on Labor Day, people came together from all over the world for five days of motorcycle racing at the Bonneville Salt Flats for the BUB Motorcycle Speed Trials at Bonneville. The conditions are hot and dry, and there is an absolutely alien appearance to the place, with only a flat white salt crust covering the earth, the remnants of an ancient lake that is about 45 miles square. In some areas, the ground is so flat and void of any form of life that the curvature of the earth is discernable with the naked eye.
Tracy likes to test herself and is a consummate doer, while I often think about, or dream about things. My sister, who is also my twin, is essential to my life, and the perfect yin to my yang. So, when she told me nearly a year ago that she wanted to break a national speed record in Bonneville, I was opposed. She was very polite and listened to my laundry list of reasons why she shouldn’t or couldn’t ride fast, but my reasons were not hers, and I knew it was only a matter of time before this thing got legs. After all, I know better than anyone does that once Tracy’s sights are set on something, come hell or high water, it will happen. Therefore, when the subject of breaking speed records came up again several months later, I acquiesced and promised her that I would be there to cheer her on, offering best wishes for luck and Godspeed.
The other day Tracy said to me, “You know, this isn’t just about me. It’s truly about a lot of amazing people putting it together.” She continued, “In racing, you can’t be successful by yourself. It’s a team effort.” My sister’s enthusiasm, passion and commitment to motorcycling, has attracted a large group of friends and supporters. In fact, people are coming to Bonneville from as far away as Canada to watch her ride. Fremont Cycle Salvage sponsored her, The Body Shoppe painted her bike to perfection, while experienced racers from Aftershocks, and G.P. Frame and Wheel, of the Bay Area, are prepped her bike for the event.
I knew things were spiraling into something big when I showed up at work and saw a coworker wearing a “Team Tracy” T-shirt with the slogan, “Never accept limits. Go beyond them.” Her official racing number is 1966, the year she was born. Her unofficial slogan for this event is “Life Begins at 40, but it gets interesting at 150.”
Tracy hoped to beat J.F. Haider’s record, set in 1978 at 165.742 mph on a Kawasaki in the Modified: Gasoline “M-AG” 1350 class, which permits unlimited design. Superchargers and turbochargers are not allowed. Construction must include a majority of motorcycle engine parts. Fuel injection is allowed, and gasoline only. Tracy’s motorcycle is a mostly stock 2004 Suzuki Hayabusa with the fairing removed (a requirement of her class). The only performance modifications, a Yoshimura exhaust and a Power Commander.
Tracy is very proud to be the fourth generation of motorcycle enthusiasts in our family. Claude Salmon, our great grandfather started a Harley Davidson business in Fresno, California, which he later moved to Oakland. Our grandparents took over, and the business was then passed down to our own parents as a Kawasaki dealership. Personally, I equate the entire 1970’s decade with the song, “Kawasaki — Let’s the Good times Roll.” Although Tracy and I were raised with the love of motorcycling, she is the one who could kick start a bike before she was nine, a feat I never did achieve. Tracy took to the sport with ease and finesse, and maintains her respect and love for it today. With a garage full of bikes, she spends much of her time working on her craft, although she would not likely call it “work.”
Our family has been involved with the Oakland Motorcycle Club nearly 100 years. The club raised money to support Tracy’s efforts in Bonneville and came together to offer their good wishes. Tracy was sincerely moved, and with tears in her eyes, thanked everyone from the bottom of her heart for their love and support. Over the years, she has earned the respect of her community and fellow motorcyclists, which, as a woman, didn’t necessarily come easy. Then again, very little worthwhile generally does.
I do have fears around my twin sister’s racing. After all, it is not just that Tracy wants to ride. She wants to be the fastest! In these moments, I would prefer she spend her time and energies safe at home, competing in speed sweater-knitting contests, but then again, this is the life she is creating. And when the sun comes up in the morning, and all seems well again, I think about how proud I am of her for trusting her intuition, pushing boundaries further away, and facing her fears head on like a champ, like a woman.
In one week’s time, Tracy, along with our mother riding shotgun, will be hauling her speed demon of a motorcycle to Bonneville, and setting up her racing pit on Labor Day. On Monday morning, I will fly with my kids to Salt Lake City, and head over in a rental car with two baby seats in the back, a tube of sun block 70, and a mountain of diapers and travel toys to meet them. Women stir things up differently, for sure.
Although Tracy originally set out to do this alone, she is bringing friends and supporters from across the USA and Canada with her. It’s a tribute to her passion, certainly, but it is also a testament to the lure of Bonneville and the beauty of speed on a motorcycle. Speed fever is definitely contagious, and once it starts going around, there is no telling who will be affected or where it will end.
Labor Day Arrives: Team Tracy’s group slowly comes together in West Wendover, Nevada. Tracy and friends from the Oakland Motorcycle Club, along with their sister club (GVMC) from Vancouver, Canada, gather late on Monday evening; they decide to meet at 5:00 a.m. to offer their help, which turned out to be a long day of grueling work under the harsh salt and sun. My children and I search for other kinds of adventures, including playing in a city park, complete with giant tires to climb through, teeter totters (which the kids had, until then, only heard about in stories), and swings made from real benches chained to trees. We also found a swimming pool surrounded by desert rocks and boulders and took a refreshing swim. Wherever we went on the Wendover strip, which is the closest town to Utah’s Bonneville Salt Flats, there were speed riders with whom to chat, here for the same event. The racing would begin the following day, and you could feel the excitement building in the air.
Word spread that a friend and longtime member of the Oakland Motorcycle Club had passed away suddenly the night before. As our group poured back to the hotel close to sunset, looking beat from the salt, heat of the long day, and news of our friend’s passing, we gathered together to reminisce and wish him farewell. Knobby was 81 and had been preparing to leave town on his next dirt bike ride.
Racing Day #1 (Wednesday): Everyone is up at the crack of dawn and headed straight for the Salt. You can still feel the desert’s night chill in the air, and the wind is kicking up, but Bonneville mornings have their appeal, too, since the salt has not yet had a chance to soften, which comes with the heat and activity of the day. Tracy is pumped up on adrenaline and happiness as she prepares for her first trial ride. In order to beat Haider’s record, she will need to exceed his speed of 165.742 mph. Once that is achieved, she must then race in the opposite direction to account for the wind factor. The two speeds are averaged for her official time.
Tracy is in her pit readying herself for her trial. She gives our father a hug and a kiss and with an enormous smile says, “Bye, Dad,” as she turns to jump on her bike. Until that moment, he hasn’t been worried about her racing, but suddenly his heart feels like it’s going to explode. He doesn’t stop her, of course, but there is a part of him that considers it. As I’m approaching the Salt Flats in our Jeep with my husband at the wheel and my children secured in back, I get a call that Tracy will be taking her first ride at any moment. We’re still 10 minutes from her pit and realize we will most likely be watching her from the road. As far as I can see, everything is absolutely flat and white. There is a mountain range on the horizon some distance behind us, but to our front, the environment is void of anything recognizable and quite otherworldly. I roll my window down and get blasted with heat. Suddenly we see a tiny figure shooting across the salt and know it’s Tracy! From the window of our rental car, my sister looks like a superhero flying across the moon.
Tracy was off to a good start, but she misread the flags and slowed too soon, and she achieved only 139 mph. This turns out to be a common “rookie” mistake that won’t be repeated. On the international track, where Tracy is racing, she has 2 miles to get up to speed. The third mile is timed, and then she has 2 miles to slow down. The desert sun beats down on Tracy in her full leathers, as she waits in line for her next ride.
The Team Tracy pit crew is larger than two of the professional racing teams’ pit crews combined. Her pit has been tastefully decorated to make everyone feel welcome and comfortable. Tracy’s pit is comprised of white and orange EZ-Ups that house coolers filled with cold drinks, comfortable chairs, a small mechanic station, and on this particular day, a makeshift play area for my children. There is also a mobile second-story viewing tower housed on top of a bike trailer. It was from this particular vantage point that I saw Tracy take her next ride.
The official speed for her second run was a respectable 154 mph. It was good, but not enough. Tracy’s Suzuki Hayabusa is weighted down with lead shot. There is no wobble, and the salt feels good to her. Tracy rode over to her tent extremely tired, and she said that at her top speed she’s hanging on to the handlebars with all her strength and feels close to flying off the back of the motorcycle. Additionally, her helmet is lifting and the wind is so intense that it’s affecting her ability to see. Tracy’s speed is getting faster, but no record, so she and her crew discuss performance modifications and tactics for the following day.
Racing Day #2 (Thursday): In Tracy’s class, all fairings are removed from the motorcycle, so there is no windscreen, and this creates a challenge in terms of traditional aerodynamics. For the record, simply put, she needs more speed. To give her a sense of security, her crew adds a cushion to the back of her seat to help keep her in place. Her boots are taped to her leathers for better airflow, and the rubber pads from her pegs are removed, and this gives her an additional inch of space to tuck further down. . She also wanted more torque than the stock 40-tooth rear sprocket could provide, but the 44-tooth spare sprocket she purchased for the race didn’t fit her Hayabusa, so she and her team walked from pit to pit introducing themselves and looking for one to borrow. Another racer gives her his 42-tooth sprocket to use, so they swapped that out and she gives it another go. Tracy’s speed gets better with each race, but each race also brings fatigue and eventual exhaustion.
Racing Day #3 (Friday): Tracy talks with some of the racers about her particular set of issues, and listened intently to their comments and advice. She needs to become more aerodynamic, but doesn’t yet know how to get there. The small changes that are made to her motorcycle and to her are paying off with each race. She is very close, but doesn’t know how to get over the hump to break the record. By midmorning, Don Mills, another racer who she had met, comes by to offer her his custom tank, which is flatter and may give her an edge. She happily accepts it. Then she removes her seat and duct tapes the kneepads from her leathers where the seat should be and sits down. At 6 foot tall, she must now do everything possible to get smaller and more aerodynamic. Tracy and her Hayabusa are slowly morphing into a bullet. After these final tweaks, she comes in at 2/10th of a mile per hour from the record. This is late in the afternoon, and trials are being shut down due to high winds. Riding is finished for the day, but for the first time Tracy knows that if Mother Nature smiles on her the following day, she has a real shot at the record.
Most of Tracy’s crew were planning to leave on Saturday morning to head to their various homes, but when her score is announced, everyone jumps for joy and automatically starts making arrangements to stick around for another day of racing.
Racing day #4 (Saturday): Tracy woke up Saturday morning before the sun came up and purposely did not look out the window to assess the weather, as had become her custom over the past week. Today was “make or break”, and it just wouldn’t make a difference. As it turned out, the gods of speed were smiling on her. The weather conditions and salt were perfect. Tracy is in her element, and today believes with all her might that she can do it.
I have often wondered about Haider, who set his record 30 years ago, and I asked Tracy if she thought he might have possibly been in Bonneville during her attempt. She is certain that if he had been there that he would have come over to wish her well and sincerely offer her luck breaking his record. It’s a supportive community, this one made up of racers. Personally, I’ve always said that my favorite people in this world are artists and motorcycle riders, although it’s difficult to quantify. These are the people with whom I like to spend my time, and simply put, they are the best of the best. The racing community is seemingly made up of a family of passionate gear heads, speed junkies and unlikely heroes who have a passion for speed and are quick to help each other out.
Tracy was the first one on the salt Saturday morning and took her first ride just as the sun was rising. One friend suggested, “Just ride like you’re going out for you’re your morning Peet’s coffee.” Everything fell into place, and three miles later, my sister beat the national speed record. Our father phoned to say she looked beautiful out there, and how proud he was of her. After Tracy took her reverse run to set the record officially, she rode up to Don, the racer who loaned her his tank. He heard the announcement from his car, which she did not, and used his fingers to indicate 171! Tracy’s eyes filled with tears, as she finally knew she broke it. Tracy set a new national land speed record in Bonneville at 171.153 mph. She reached her goal along with her pit crew, old friends and new, and her family. Later, as Tracy rode back to her pit she kept saying to herself, “We did it. We did it. We did it!”
Burlingame CA 94010
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www.andranorris.com
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