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Racing legend Ricky Johnson passes the torch on to whose willing to listen
If you had a scant 10 minutes to pick the brain of motocross racing legend Ricky Johnson’s brain, what would you ask? In a world where time is of the essence, one would have to choose topics carefully. You could certainly go back in time and ask him all about racing motocross back in the day and winning seven AMA National championships, or if you’re more of a fan of four-wheel action, there are plenty of stories to extract from that genre as well. An easy selection of topics would be to ask about the past, the present and the future. While the clock is furiously ticking and mental lotto balls are bouncing, I struggle and ask myself, “What the hell should I ask one of the all-time motocross heroes?”
I’ve known “RJ” since the late 1980s when I was a beer-soaked motocross fan on the other side of the fence at the Unadilla pits. It’s been a long time since we’ve spoken and he’s most certainly out-accomplished me in many ways.
I decided to make this interview easy on both of us; I just asked him what parts of his life he wanted to talk about, what may need clarification and where do his passions lie at 52 years old.
I was surprised to learn that the El Cajon, California-born high school dropout has now become the teacher.
Red Bull: It’s been a long time since we’ve spoken and I have 10 minutes to pick your brain. Where do you want to start?
Ricky Johnson: I remember meeting you out at the races in Unadilla—let’s start back there. Those were some of the greatest times of my life when I was the strongest emotionally, physically and mentally. I loved my job [racing motorcycles] and trying to destroy people. For me, to be a very single-minded, ADHD kid like myself that had dropped out of high school [and was now racing motocross], I didn’t know how really good I had it until 1989 when Danny Storbeck landed on my wrist and everything in my life changed. When I looked down at my arm and I saw that my hand was halfway up my forearm and was moving in an odd, abstract way, I just had a feeling that [my throttle hand] was never going to be the same.
I struggled to come back from that injury and I was never the same rider from that morning in Gainesville, [Florida].
RB: Describe the emotions you were going through after that crash.
RJ: I tried to come back, but I didn’t get the results that I wanted to [and] I eventually had to pull out [of racing]. After that I was very bitter; I felt used and abandoned. At that time in my career when I was racing and winning, everybody wanted to hang out with me, everyone wanted to be my friend. All of the rowdies [like you] at Unadilla wanted to come and harass me or talk shit in my pit. I thought that people liked me for me and I quickly found out that it was just because I was a famous factory racer.
When I wasn’t racing and the phone stopped ringing, it left a bitter taste in my mouth. I thought, “Screw this sport! I’m going to go do something else and show the world that I still [can] be competitive and that [I’m] not a has-been.”
RB: Is that when you started to get involved in truck racing?
RJ: It was. I changed paths and focused all of my energy and efforts into truck racing. After I took a few racing schools I started racing stadium trucks for Chevrolet in 1992—that was the year that my oldest son Luke was born. I was pretty successful and won a few races and I took second in the championship one year.
The big change was when I went with NAS-Truck, but I was a little behind the curve in stock car racing. I tried a few local stock car races at the El Cajon Speedway. I won the Sportsman class (the premiere class there) but was still way down the ladder when it comes to NASCAR. I got a few shots, but nothing stuck.
I found myself back in North Carolina looking for something to do so I started teaching at the Richard Petty Driving Experience. I started coaching a bit more and dabbled into motorcycles but eventually got back into truck racing. I did some short course and desert racing where I was able to win some more championships. Then in 2008 I got picked up by Red Bull and went on to race for them where I won the TORC Series Pro 2 championships and two TORC Pro 4 championships.
One day Pete Brinkerhoff had the idea to race Pro 4’s in the snow and came to me [with it] and I said yes. This is how Frozen Rush was born and now here I am at 52 years old and still swinging!
RB: Frozen Rush looks like a kick in the ass to race. Just how much fun is it?
Imagine having the ultimate rental car with spikes and 900 horsepower lined up against eight of your friends that are maniacs that also want to win.
RJ: Racing in Frozen Rush is some off-the-charts fun. Imagine having the ultimate rental car with spikes and 900 horsepower lined up against eight of your friends that are maniacs that also want to win. Being a guy that’s older and little beat up, I still can race [trucks] like I’m 22 years old. Right now my physical fitness is at a level where I can race at 100 percent in trucks, but I can’t even race at 40 percent of what I could when it comes to motorcycles.
At this stage in my life, when you race one of these short-course trucks, it is the ultimate in adrenaline and aggression!
RB: Moving ahead, had you ever imagined yourself working as a teacher?
RJ: I had to utilize a lot of different angles to get to that point. I took a bit from when I was an instructor at the Petty school and mixed it in with the times when I was coaching Jeff Stanton and Ron Lechien and bringing up younger guys. My job at Red Bull was no longer just to be a racer; it was also to help bring up younger racers like Bryce Menzies. (Menzies is now one Red Bull’s top off-road athletes and is currently in Abu Dhabi racing rally cars.)
My position at Red Bull now is kind of cool. My personal racing is winding down. I’m not stoked about that, but they like what I have to say when it comes to color commentary and also how I’m able to teach and help bring up younger drivers.
RB: Your ability to teach has also expanded to a completely different audience. Tell us about your work with military Special Forces operators.
RJ: Right now one of the things I do is I work with Special Forces and Special Ops soldiers: American, British, Danish and Australian—I work with guys all over the world. I’ve taken the skill sets I’ve learned from racing motorcycles, desert, short course, sport cars and I use all of that knowledge to teach soldiers defensive and offensive driving.
This encompasses off-road driving, off-road riding, how to ride double, maintenance of vehicles and the associated fieldwork on the equipment.
It’s an honor for me to take the things that I’ve developed over the years and teach it to the world’s best soldiers.
RB: Are you telling us that just because someone gets a bit older and moves into the Vet—or older—class, they don’t have to slow down?
RJ: (Laughs) The guy that beats you in your 20s is still probably going to be the guy who beats you in your 40s! The good news is that if you were conservative when you were younger and that guy was kicking your ass, more than likely he’s gotten injured a bunch of times and you’re still healthy!
RB: Do you find that the younger generation embraces your input when you try to pass along what you’ve learned through your experiences?
RJ: I still dabble in helping guys that race motocross and supercross; I’ve offered that help to everyone out there. I just want to the help them. I’m not looking for a job—I truly want to see them succeed. Motorcycle racers are so arrogant, they just think, “No, I got it.” I imagine they think I’m going to come out and start talking about how I did jumps way back in 1986. The sport has evolved and I have a pretty good eye on it, but some of them just don’t want to listen.