Sideburn ambassador and Dirt Quake hero, Hubert Bastie has been included in a photo comp run by 100% goggles, with this photo.

Perhaps you're sick of being asked to vote for strangely-coloured people, but if you're on facebook, please give him your support. Not sure what he'll win, but he doesn't win very often so it would be appreciated.

Here's the link. G

In the post below Hubert Bastie mentioned the very few items that his racing father kept after he stopped competing. One of the items was a Husqvarna race shirt. Hubert wore the shirt to race in the the DTRA and in French motocross on his own vintage Husqvarna two-stroke. Lad above, Dad below, same shirt over 30 years apart. G

Sideburn's French ambassador, Hubert Bastie sent tells this great story about his family background...

Many of us, DTRA riders, are from a family of racers. The same for me.

My dad was born in 1950 in Paris. He rode Husqvarna, Ossa and Bultacos from 1973 to 1983. But I never saw him riding, not e even once (but last year he competed in a Super veteran race, after 33 years of not racing). Why? Because he just stopped everything when my brother came to the world.

What did he leave us from his racing years? Tons of bikes? Cool riding gear? Did he take us ride as youngsters? NO! Nothing!

He was just ok to help me to buy a trials bike, a Gas Gas 125, at 16, but I'd been focussed on a 1985 YZ since I was 12! For him motocross is baaaad and dangerous. That's so strange for a man who finished the seventh at first edition of Le Touquet, who won races in the French Enduro Championship.

Here is what he left:
3 helmets in the Garage, that became nice bird's nest.
One single Husqvarna Jersey.
Some trophies And a used Trelleborg tyre and tooooons of pictures...

My Harley found me sometime in 1983. The father of one of my friends had built it up from three tea chests of parts that he swapped for a complete and running V-twin BSA that was promptly sold to a Japanese collector. He'd built it but ran out of steam before finishing it off. It was copper metallic with white grips and running board rubbers and lots of chrome. I wasn't into Harleys, but saw those 'bars and fell in love. The fact that it had a hand shift and foot clutch added to the appeal.

I haggled him down to £650 because I had £50 saved and a two-year loan for £600 was all I could afford to pay off. Even then I knew I'd stolen it. I finished it off, which only involved wiring it and fitting a saddle.

This picture was taken in 1984, when it was my only transport and I was doing some weekend maintenance. My sister and her toddler were visiting. My girlfriend had recently passed her driving test and bought herself the lemon R5. She was evidently going for the complete French gamine look. We celebrated our 28th wedding anniversary this year. My little niece Emma, who is copying me by playing with spanners on the bike, grew into a bona fide rock chick with a group called Band of Skulls who are quite popular with the younger generations, I understand. Sometimes I look at this pic and wish I'd left it like that, with the lovely colour and 18in front wheel, but maybe it's just the atmosphere in the photo that I like.
In time it needed an engine rebuild, so I took the opportunity to paint it and fit a 16in front wheel. This pic was taken in about 1993, soon after I got it back together. My children loved getting rides like this, sitting in my lap. I would deliver them to their friends' birthday parties with them wearing a bicycle helmet. It has stayed pretty much the same since, except that I've let it get dirty and look its age.
The most memorable ride I've made on it was to Pendine and back to watch the VHRA racing along the beach in 2015. That was 220-odd miles each way. Fine weather, wonderful roads (the Welsh A40 with its endless, fast, long sweepers), good convoy company and the bike running well. I felt like I was flying. Vintage motorcycling can be slow, uncomfortable and unreliable and isn't for everyone, but it suits me fine. Pic: James Bad JuJu Mitchell

I rode it in the Harley class at Dirt Quake V and came in last in all three races. But I had the best seat in the house when Dimitri Coste lapped me at great speed on the inside with Wiggo chasing hard flying down my outside blatting into turn 3.

I was really lucky when I turned 16, because I coerced my mum into getting me what I reckoned was the best moped of the lot, a Fantic Caballero. She wasn't best pleased when my O level results came through a while later, though.

There are thousands of people in the Sideburn universe with great stories to tell, and I've chosen a handful to supply stories and update the blog. One is Travis Newbold, Sideburn poet and test rider, another is John Harrison. We met John through his antics and style in the DTRA and the more I found out about him, the more I wanted him involved.

He says stuff like... 'I don't wear T-shirts or sweatshirts (or jeans). Haven't done since my early 30s.' John is 57 with grown-up children, and started dirt track racing earlier this year. You'll find out a lot more about him, starting now. Hope you enjoy his outlook as much as I do. G
'As we're rained off today I thought I 'd get going on my motorcycling history for you. I can't imagine how you would introduce this sort of thing but here you are. Stand by for following emails. All photos are my own unless stated. 

The picture above is of me as a 12 yr old on the first motorbike I ever rode. This would have been 1972. It is a BSA Beagle (surely the bike Snoopy rode in the recently blogged Peanuts cartoon) which was an early '60s, 75cc 4-stroke that they produced in a forlorn attempt to take the fight to the Italian and Japanese small, cheap bike competition. Pressed steel frame and forks, but this one had been converted into a Schoolboy Scrambler with tele forks, a high level pipe and a bobbed rear guard. One of my friends got it and we thought it was the bee's bollocks, particularly as we reckoned it was a dead ringer for a Husky with the red and white tank. We hadn't ridden motorbikes before, but could drive cars, so set about teaching ourselves. I'm amused that the only new item of clothing I'm wearing is my brand new Stadium Centurion X helmet, the rest - shirt, trousers and shoes are all hand-me-downs. 
We had a field at the back of our place that we got permission to ride in and soon we were all on the lookout for field bikes. Another friend found a 125 Bantam ( also 'converted' to schoolboy scrambler spec) which I think he paid a fiver for. It was barely worth it. This photo shows the two bikes pretending to race; in truth they both rarely ran at the same time, or we couldn't afford enough fuel fuel to keep them both going. The same scene must have been played out by lads all over the country learning to ride and fix field bikes. Hopefully it still is. 
JH 104R