BY JODY WEISEL

Life’s most important lessons come at some expense, considerable embarrassment and an emotional toll. In my chronological rear view mirror, I believe that everything I ever achieved came easy to me. Maybe that is true, but in hindsight, it is possible that the rear window of my memory might have been fogged up. I didn’t learn quick. I learned things the hard way.

When I was a young baseball player, I ended up getting an offer to play for a Boston Red Sox’s minor league team at 16 years old. Sounds great, but when I was in the Little League my coach benched me in the third inning. I was so embarassed that I went to the far end of the dugout and cried. The coach came down and sat next to me and said, “Jody, you have nothing to cry about. We are leading seven to nothing and I wanted to take the opportunity to let some of our players who never get into a game to have their chance. You should be happy for them.” Lesson learned!

Jody at Rincon Del Mar in the winter of 1969.

When I was a wannabe surfer and I paddled out for the first time, I struggled to punch through the incoming waves. I didn’t know enough to “duck dive” and for every 10 feet I made by padding hard, I lost 12. When I finally got outside I was exhausted. Worse yet, I was afraid to catch a wave because then I would have to paddle back out again. It turns out that there would be no surfing without paddling. This photo of Jody was shot at Rincon Del Mar in 1969 during a winter swell. Lesson learned!

Jody on his 1974 Hodaka Super Combat at Mosier Valley in Texas.

When I rode a dirt bike for the first time on a race track, every time I came to a jump I would jump off the footpegs, thinking I was helping the bike get into the air. I didn’t know any better, until a grizzled motocross veteran of 18 pulled me aside and said, “You are going to kill yourself doing that. Press down on the pegs as you go up the face of the jump. If you keep lifting your feet off the pegs, you will end up doing a Flying W.” I didn’t know what a Flying W was, but I knew from the look on his face that I didn’t want to find out. Lesson learned!

JODY ON HIS 1981 MAICO MEGA 2 AT LAKE MADERA IN 1982

When I was a hot-shot motocross racer, I got hired to test bikes, aftermarket products and gear for manufacturers. I felt like I had a sacred trust to write harsh test reports so that the bosses at the company would know what was wrong with his shocks, boots, levers or spring rates. I was sure that he would appreciate my input and fix all the flaws I found. It turns out that in many cases, I was the only flaw that they found with their product. Lesson learned!

JODY WENT TO COLLEGE FOR NINE YEARS TO BECOME A COLLEGE PROFESSOR, ONLY TO FIND OUT THAT LEATHERS, BOOTS, GOGGLES AND A HELMET WERE HIS BEST BUSINESS ATTIRE.

When I taught Social Research Methods at North Texas State University, the first day that I walked into a classroom and started explaining Chi Square to 30 sophomores, I noticed that the ten people in the front of the classroom were very smart girls and that the ten students in the back rows of the class, mostly football players and frat boys, weren’t paying any attention. The only people learning anything that day were the ten students in the middle rows and me. Lesson learned!

Legendary motorcycle designer Horst Leitner’s 1974 Pursang with multiple shocks.[/caption]

LEGENDARY MOTORCYCLE DESIGNER HORST LEITNER BUILT A 1974 PURSANG WITH MULTIPLE SHOCKS AND A LINK BETWEEN THE SWINGARM AND THE AND THE REAR WHEEL.

When ATK’s Horst Leitner asked Alan Olson and I to take his latest creation for a couple laps at Saddleback and tell him what we thought, I was surprised when Alan came in and Horst said that he didn’t want Alan’s opinion, only mine. I asked him why, since Alan was a very good test rider. He said, “He wasn’t serious about it, he didn’t try hard enough.” I asked him, “How do you know that Alan wasn’t serious about testing the bikes?” Horst said in his Austrian accent, “He didn’t put his gloves on.” Lesson learned!

“I DON’T CARE IF YOU’RE RIGHT OR WRONG, AS LONG AS YOU ARE ALWAYS RIGHT OR ALWAYS WRONG. BUT YOU CAN’T BE A GOOD TEST RIDER IF YOU ARE ONLY RIGHT HALF THE TIME.”

Jody and Ed Scheidler 30 years later.

When I tested bikes for Yamaha’s Ed Scheidler, I was often back in the pits 15 seconds after he sent me out to test something. He insisted in language I can’t repeat that I needed to ride the requisite three laps.

I said, “I don’t need three laps when it’s bad on the way to the track. I’m right about this.” He told me that he wanted me to put my butt in the saddle and go back out and prove that the setting was wrong. To which I said, “But I’m right, this change was no good.” He sternly replied, “I don’t care if you’re right or wrong, as long as you are always right or always wrong. But you can’t be a good test rider if you are only right half the time.” Lesson learned!

Today, much like Yamaha’s Ed Scheidler, I rely on my test riders and I don’t like it when I think they didn’t put enough effort into testing the things I wanted information on. When I confront them, they say that what I wanted them to test was going in the wrong direction and a waste of time. I always reply, “You learn as much from being wrong as you do from being right.” Thanks Ed.