Trail Rider Magazine

12 12 Trail Rider Trail Rider www.TrailRider.com Preface by Pamela Bohn Guenther: I sat with my Dad Ron Bohn as he shared memories of his experiences and I want to share his journey and experiences with Trail Rider readers. A modest man, he never speaks of his accomplishments and wins. His grandchildren know of them only through the ques ons they ask and his friends through snippets of stories they've a empted to piece together over the years. My Dad loves the sport and is grateful for the opportuni es the motorcycle industry has brought to all of our lives. Ron Bohn has relished the ride. 1969 It was a cool, September evening. My Dad Mel, and I were standing around the pits of the finish of the Michigan 500 Mile Jack Pine, wai ng for the official results. Back then, due to lack of technology, en- duro races took me to calculate. What I thought to be our typical race results wait turned out to be the day my journey to Six Days began. While in the pits, John Penton, one of my bigger-than-life heroes, approached my Dad and me and said, "Hey Ron, my teammate Dave Mungenast has wrenched his knee and probably won't be able to compete next week in the Interna onal Six Day Trials in Garmisch, Germany. Would you like to race in his spot?" Shell- shocked at what I just heard, it was one of those moments in me where I could s ll hear John's voice, but he couldn't hear mine. The voice in my head screamed, "Yes! Yes!" but that was just it, the voice in my head. Nonetheless, my Dad quickly an- swered asser vely for me, "Yes, he will." And, yes, that was the moment when the journey began—my first ISDT's. We had four days. We had to not only drive back to Pi sburgh from the Jack Pine in Michigan, we also had to obtain passports, pack, and drive back to Ohio to catch our flight. We really didn't have me to digest the news. I had nev- er even been on a plane and here we were, off to Europe, and look, I'm amongst the best in the USA. I felt so small compared to these guys and completely out of my element, yet my eyes and ears were tak- ing it all in. I wasn't going to miss a moment. I remember landing in Munich. The race started as soon as we stepped foot in Germany. We rushed to three rental Volkswagen Microbuses and stuffed them from top to bo om with our gear. As I'm helping out, while trying not to be in the way, out of the corner of my eye I no ce the bonnet up on one of the microbuses. I see Leroy Winters with the distributer cap in his hand removing the governor from their rental. Hmmm, I was quick to see the play and do the same for ours — we weren't going to be out horse-powered. This was a sign of a lot of fun to come amongst a group of compe ve rac- ers. I'm thrown a map and put in the passenger seat with John Penton at the helm. I was hesi- tant. I've never been here. What are kilometers versus miles? What, there are no speed limits! And what's that sign with the red diagonal line drawn through it? I was being ini ated and taking it all in. Hell, I looked over at John at one point and no ced what I would witness in many future travels; John drives like a pirate. He closes one eye to rest it, he said; the drive goes faster too. Huh? He closes one eye and me, I blink and we're there. We arrive in Garmisch, Germany, a ski town, just south of Munich. We dropped our belong- ings and were off for a meal at this rus c pub. It was quite the gathering. The locals embraced us being there. I remember the waiter opening his billfold to make change for a gentleman. The waiter carried currency for at least four different countries. The conversa ons were animated. They had to be, there were several languages occurring at the same me. At the me, it was just surreal. During our meal, I came to learn that Dave Mungenast's knee wasn't so bad a er all, and he would race for the U.S. team. I'm composed, yet wondering, what does this mean for me? John Penton immediately called a mee ng. Around our table, the conversa on began amongst John Penton, president of the FIM, our team manager, the director of the ISDT, Mr. Trunkenpoltz, owner and manufacturer of the Penton/KTM bikes and an interpreter. There had to be at least five different languages going around the table. The conversa on was about the return of Mungenast. John, with more in- fluence than I thought, nego ated my spot and I remained on the U.S. team. I recall John turn- ing to me, "Ron, you're going to get to ride." I looked across the table at my Dad, Mel and gave him a smile like I'm seven on Christmas morn- ing.

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