Date of Birth: December 13, 1939 Place of Birth: Toronto, Ontario, Canada I grew up in a relatively happy home with my older brother, Stuart, and both my mother and my father. At puberty I still had a childhood fantasy of being a North American Indian living on the western plains of North America, riding horses and hunting with a bow and arrow. It wasn't until the age of 13 that motorcycles entered into my life. I matured quickly when that happened, and it changed my life forever. My mother grew up in rural Ontario, and horses were a major aspect of her life. She took an interest in equestrian show jumping and competed successfully in local county country fairs. In his youth, my father showed promise as an up and coming bicycle racer in the city of Toronto, and was paramount in the development of that sport in the early 1930s. But, the growing demands of a wife and family halted any aspirations he may have had in expanding his interests in that sport. Combining the two disciplines, it would seem that from the moment of conception, I was destined to ride something on two wheels that had a means of its own propulsion. When I was 12 years old, my brother bought a 1949 250 BSA single with a 3 speed gearbox. All his friends had purchased bikes, so it seemed logical he should too. But his interest in motorcycles was fleeting. The BSA spent most of its time parked in the garage at the back of our yard. On Fridays I was left to my own devices for lunch from grade eight public school. I had bragged to my school buddies that I rode a motorcycle. What I meant was that I rode on the back with my brother on occasion. What my school friends thought I said was that I rode on the front. I lost all credibility at school and was ashamed to even go. I had to do something to save face. I had a plan. On a number of consecutive Fridays I went to the garage and started the BSA and rode it from the garage, up the driveway to the street, and back to the garage. And so it was one fateful Friday lunch time, I didn't stop at the end of the driveway but rode around the block, past the school and a number of my buddies. My face had been saved. From this success, I took to riding the BSA at every opportunity. It was inevitable I would be caught, and one Saturday my parents were walking home from their weekend shopping and by chance I chose to ride down that same road. I didn't see them, but they sure saw me. My father showed his anger by taking the key away from me and putting the bike in the basement. My brother, not so accommodating, beat the crap out of me. But, the seed had been planted, and I bought a 500 Triumph Tiger the following year, and from that Triumph came another Triumph, an old cast-iron Triumph Tiger, with sprung hub, but it was a RACING 500 Triumph Tiger. Ungainly by modern standards, it was reasonably competitive in its class in its day. At the age of 15, I convinced my parents to sign the consent form for my competition license and in the spring of 1955 I began a racing career that spanned 14 years, 8 years of which were spent on the Grand Prix circuits of the European Continental Circus. In 1957 I replaced the Triumph with a new 500 Manx Norton, a phenomenal motorcycle at the time. I couldn't believe the performance the first time I opened the throttle. In the next 3 years, the Manx took me to a number of victories on local race tracks. Again my mouth was going to direct my actions, having bragged to a number of friends that I was going to go to England to go racing. An over-enthusiastic youngster, perhaps, but in December of 1959 I booked passage on the Empress of France from Montreal to Liverpool arriving in Liverpool mid April of 1960. The Manx had been forwarded to Norton Motors in Birmingham to be brought up to 1960 specifications, a decision that was to bring me no end of problems. I rode the Norton almost a dozen times in various British short circuit events including the Isle of Man TT until a crash at Oulton Park during the British Championship deflated my ego and I ran home totally depressed, not sure a life as a professional racing motorcyclist was for me. After 6 months working in the bowels of an east Toronto factory, my enthusiasm had been rejuvenated. For the 1961 season, I bought a new G50 Matchless to replace the Norton, and added a 350 7R AJS. In March of 1961 I returned to England to continue my learning curve on British short circuits. The two new AMC bikes put me on a more equal footing with other privateers, and success began to come my way. That year, I finished 15th in the Isle of Man Junior TT, and 14th in the Senior TT. My mother took home two coveted silver replicas for my performance in the TT. A few weeks later, I traveled over to Belgium to compete in the Belgian GP at Spa Francorchamps. There was no 350 class, but I managed to finish 4th in the 500 race, a position that seemed an impossible feat for my limited experience, but it made me realize that I had a degree of natural talent that needed experience and direction to blossom. I had reached a plateau of undetermined height, totally unaware of what lay beyond, only aware I could not wait to get there. In late 1961 I entered a number of race meetings in Finland and Sweden. I saw my first major victory in Finland followed by good performances in the Swedish GP on the way back to England. In 1962, I was invited by Tom Arter to ride the Associated Motor Cycles' factory development bikes alongside New Zealander, Hugh Anderson. With better machinery and more support, greater successes came my way. I was running in second place in the 1962 Isle of Man Senior TT when the crankshaft broke, but I did achieve a 100 mph lap before it broke. I also finished in 5th place in the 350 Junior TT. With numerous other successes in both England and the Continent, I looked forward to the 1963 season for bigger and better things. It started with me getting married to Maj-Britt Kristina, a Finnish girl I met while competing in a race meeting in Helsinki. I again did well in the Isle of Man TT, finishing 4th in the Senior TT and 6th in the Junior TT. And at the end of 1963 Maj-Britt and I had our first child, a son we named Anthony Michael. I began the 1964 racing season with a partial Yamaha Motor Company of Japan contract to ride their 250 Yamaha RD56 in the Isle of Man TT, the Dutch TT and the Belgian GP. I retired in the Island on the Yamaha that year, but managed to finish 5th in the Dutch TT, and I won the Belgian GP at a record average speed. In so doing, I became the first North American to win a World Championship Grand Prix, and the first rider to lap the Spa race course at over 120 mph (190 kph) average on a 250. A week after the Belgian GP I finished 3rd in the West German GP at Solitude. Later that season I again was invited to ride the 250 Yamaha at Monza in Italy and finished second in that race with a lap record to my credit. Also in 1964 I had been contesting the 350 and 500 classes of the grand prix circuits and was lying in second place overall in the 350 world championship, but towards the end of the season I was overtaken by another rider, but did manage to finish in 3rd place in the 350 world championship and received the bronze medal for my performance. At the end of 1964 I was invited to Japan for the Japanese GP and where I signed a full contract with Yamaha for the 1965 season. A few weeks after my arrival back in England, Maj-Britt presented me with a new baby daughter we named, Jacqueline, Kristina. 1965 was on paper my best year. I retired in the Isle of Man Senior TT while lying in second place, finished second in the 250 TT, and 3rd in the 125 TT aboard the new twin cylinder Yamaha 125, and was 3rd in a rain lashed Senior TT on the Matchless G50. Later that year I won the 125 Dutch TT as well as the 250 Finnish GP. At the end of the 1965 racing season while doing private testing on the new four-cylinder 250 Yamaha in Japan I crashed severely breaking my pelvis and left hip joint. In 1965 I finished second in the overall 250 world championship. I spent the following six months in hospital and returned to Europe to continue racing in June of 1966. I rode the season riding privately on one of the Yamaha 250 twins, while the two factory riders, Phil Read and Bill Ivy rode the new four-cylinder 250s. My season was a mixture of mechanical problem, physically adapting to a new riding style, with flashes of past expertise. At the end of the season I beat Bill Ivy at Mallory Park to take second place in the 250 race, and challenged Giacomo Agostini in the 350 race the following weekend at Brands Hatch. In 1967, I was once again a full private runner riding 350 7R AJS and 500 G50 Matchless machines for Tom Arter. It was a season of change for me, realizing that life must go on and that life would not be one as a professional racing motorcyclist. I returned to Canada in September of 1967 to compete in the Canadian GP, and finished in 3rd place behind Mike Hailwood, Honda-4, and Giacomo Agostini, MV Agusta-3. So ended my professional racing career. Having separated from Maj-Britt, the kids and I moved to California to take up a position with Cycle World magazine as an Associate Editor. I continued racing in both Canada and the United States with mixed success. I finished in 3rd place at the Daytona 200 n 1968. In 1969 I won the Eastern Canadian Championship, and numerous other race meetings in Eastern Canada before calling it quits at the end of 1969. I then opened my own Yamaha motorcycle and snowmobile dealership. I had also remarried by this time and my wife, Carol presented me with another son, Christopher Alan, born in 1972. In 1978 I predicted a great slump in the motorcycle industry in Canada and consequently relinquished the dealership and began a machine-shop business doing specialized machine-work on motorcycle engines, many for the dealers in the Greater Toronto area. In early 1984, following many years of emotional pain and frustration, I closed the machine business and moved out of my residence in Brampton to live in downtown Toronto, to set up house-keeping as a woman. I took the name Michelle Ann. About that same time I had written a first draft of an autobiography of my many years of motorcycle racing. I called the book, Make Haste, Slowly. This book became an entity in 1999 and has received excellent acclaim throughout the motorcycling industry. For more details about Make Haste, Slowly, Click Here. In the spring of 2000 I moved from the city of Toronto to live in the wilds of Central Ontario. I bought a winterized cottage on 1.6 acres of rocks, trees, bushes, and bugs. I have bears that walk through my back yard. Deer frequently walk along the road in front. I am 100 meters from Lake Otter where I have a dock and a canoe to enjoy the temperate waters in the summer. Winters are a challenge as I am 1.3 kilmeters from the main road and sometimes get snowed in. I heat with wood, so that too is challenging as I get older. In the spring of 2005 I published a second book titled Serial Number 6218. It's a children's book about, what else, a motorcycle. Serial Number 6218 is beautifully illustrated by Kathy Kaiser, from Fergus, Ontario. For more details about Serial Number 6218, Click Here. In December of 2005, I retired from having to work 5 days a week and now spend much of my time writing. In the fall of 2009, I have two dogs, and two cats to keep me company, not to mention the exotic birds that come to take a seed of two from my bird feeders, and a variety of wild animals. It is a long way from rushing down Bray Hill at 146 mph, but I am really enjoying my life in the slow lane. Ferry Brouwer invited me to ride a pair of Yamaha factory racing bikes in the Parade of Champions at the Centennial Isle of Man TT Races. It took me about two seconds to decided and about four months to get my aging body back into some semblance of racing trim. I knew I could reach the handlebars, and I knew I could get my feet up onto the footrests, but what I didn't know if I could do both at the same time. I am pleased to say, I did. The Yamaha factory sent over the 125 twin cylinder nine speed RA97, and the 250 four cylinder eight speed RD05. The last time I had ridden the 250 RD05, I hated the bike, but the version I last rode was the 1965 model; the model the factory sent over was the 1968 version, and what a phenomenal motorcycle. I asked the engineer after the event if I could take the bike home. After the Isle of Man Ferry asked me to ride for his team in a number of other events. In all that summer I flew across the Atlantic five times riding at Spa Francorchamps in Belgium, Sachsenring in Germany, Salzburgring in Austria and at Schotten again in Germany. It was a fun summer riding some exotic motorcycles of the time. We were not racing, just riding around supposedly to wave at people, but we are out there because we are competitive. I look over at the rider beside me and I'm not going to let him beat me and no doubt he's thinking the same. To say we were touring would not exactly be truthful, but there are obvious limitations dictated by the passage of time. We ain't twenty-six anymore. For the 2008 season it was suppose to be a repeat of the 2007 season, but during my second event for the season at Spa, Francorchamps in Belgium I stepped off the bike and hit my head hard. I don't know what happened because my mind is blank for about a four hour period. I remember being out on one bike early in the morning, coming in to the gargage and changing bikes and from then on my mind is void of any memory until I awoke in the Emergency Room at the local hospital. My injuries included two or three cracked ribs, severe bruising, a partially collapsed lung, fluid on the lungs and a fractured skull. It took me a long time to get rid of the headaches and dizzy spells, but now in the summer of 2009 I can safely say I am back to my normal self. I had lots of time to decide my future riding exotic race bikes on some of the greatest race courses in the world. It was time, I said, to call it a day. My decision was to no longer ride race bikes on a race track, a decision I still stand by even though I miss it. It is the right choice for me, now. Some exciting news this year. I have published two new books. Neither has anything to do with motorcycles, but I am still excited about seeing them in book form. Click Here to see details of these two new books. If you are ever up my way, please accept this as an open invitation to come visit. I am usually home. Call ahead so I can put the kettle on. And watch out for the bears, {:-).