MALCOLM’S MOMENTS

sausage. We’d do that every night after bike impound, then just sit back and watch riders coming in.

Dave and I became fast friends right away, and he became one of my very closest buddies in the years to come. We traveled the world over those years, had wonderful adventures, and competed for the title of “Cheapest Scotsman” among our friends.

Mungenast always wore an old red waxed-cotton jacket from an Isle of Man event. The price was right (free!), but it collected dust, was always dirty, and it looked like he’d used it forever. In later years, I sent him a new high-end Gore-Tex enduro jacket, which cost around $300 in the MSR catalog. When he showed up for a ride (probably a Colorado 500 event we both attended) I said, “Dave, where’s your new Gore-Tex jacket?” He responded, “I sold it at my store! Do you know how much those things go for?”

Dave was sort of the black sheep of his family, but became hugely successful in business over the years. He didn’t take authority well, and didn’t do well in school. And if that weren’t bad enough, he went to work in a motorcycle shop. He was smart and hard-working, and ended up buying the store. When Honda cars became available, he became a dealer, and was always on the lookout for car dealerships that had potential. He ended up with a lot of them.

Dave and I continued to ride and travel together for motorcycle adventures all over the world. I got a call in September of 2006 from his son with news that Dave had brain cancer, and the prognosis was dire. I jumped on the next flight to St. Louis to spend some time with him. We laughed, we cried, we reminisced about the great times we had together. He passed away shortly thereafter. We were really alike in a lot of ways. I sure do miss him.

John Penton had a Volkswagen van that year (’67), and he, myself and Mungenast jumped in after the event and headed to the KTM factory in Austria. At the time, KTM only made bicycles and mopeds, but Penton had an idea, one he’d already tried — and failed — to sell Husky on. He wanted KTM to build him a lightweight off-road motorcycle, and he even offered to pay some of the development cost himself.

They eventually agreed, sending him a handful of 100cc prototypes a year later using a German Sachs engine, which Penton used to promote his new brand of lightweight racer in the U.S. The bikes caught on immediately, and by the time KTM bought Penton a decade later, John had sold more than 25,000 Pentons. But what’s equally impressive is the fact that John jumpstarted the KTM Motorcycle brand, one that continues to excel to this day in the dirt and on the street. And ironically, KTM now owns Husky.

Earning a gold medal in my second year was exciting and plenty satisfying, but the riding itself — aside from rescuing Mungenast — was pretty uneventful. I basically motored along, staying on time and riding within myself, and had no breakdowns, a testament to the bike and the preparation the factory and I had done. The Husky folks were so happy with the gold medal they gave me the bike I’d won it on!

I was learning to love Europe, but was amazed how much of a third world country Poland was at the time. The trains used steam engines, and there were hardly any tractors; just lots of oxen. Money was a crazy thing, too, and fraud was rampant. One dollar got you one Zloty at the bank, but on the black market you could get 100, which means we ate quite well that year, and I was able to buy a really nice wood carving, which I still have. They wouldn’t let us take our Zlotys out of the country, and there was no one to give them to at the border, so I threw them out the window of the car, hoping someone would find and use them.

See? Adventures galore. And there’d be more to come…