Dirt and Trail Dec 2019

Where did it all start?
I started racing in 1991 – my
first race was at the old
Zeemans track on a PW50
– which is where most kids
start… My uncles grew
up with the Petersens in
Zimbabwe and used to race at
Donnybrook. My moms side of
the family, my brother Darrel
and my older cousins Craig and
Troy Taylor all raced – so it was
kind of inevitable.
I was not interested in
racing, my parents had saved
up and got me a brand new
bike. All I was interested in
doing was starting it up and
smoking the house out – the
whole house smelt of two
stroke. My mom says I had no
interest in going racing but with
everyone racing before I could
blink, I found myself at the
track after only one informal
putt around session with my
brother the weekend before.
How was that race?
I think I finished third or so – it
was a good 29 years ago – and
all a bit of a blur. But the bug
definitely bit and here we are.
Where did it go from
there?
My dad Kevin would drag us
off to the track every morning
before school and then we
were back at the track again
in the afternoon. He was very
sneaky – we’d get there before
anyone or after everyone had
left so that people could not
see what we were up to. My
dad worked at a woodworking
shop – he would borrow
wood and tyres and fill the
impossible jumps and form
tabletops making it easier
for us to try and clear it, he
would make us attempt the
jumps until we safely cleared
them. He would then strip the
structure and come race day
we would be able to clear the
doubles – I guess it was our
own secret advantage on race
day. Other than that my mom
took care of cleaning the bike
and everything in between
(Thanks Mom!) Nothing has
really changed.
It was sometimes
challenging. I remember when
my uncle Rodney promised to
catch me if I got a jump wrong
at the old Corobrick track – it
was a good idea at first – but
when I cleared the jump no
problem the only problem was
that he was in the track waiting
to catch me and I crashed
straight into him… I guess
he stuck to his word – but we
never tried that again… but
that’s how we spent most of
our days practicing.
My uncle Rodney was a
typical race dad – always
screaming at my brother and
I to go faster and win! We still
laugh about it around the
dinner table – a time where
he was once standing next
to the track telling me to go
faster, I’m not sure if it was
embarrassment or the fact
that he couldn’t see that I was
trying my best, but I came
around, closed the throttle in
front of him and told him to
“get lost” not in such a polite
way but to just annoy him I
would putt around for the rest
of the race.
We once went to Bloem for
a race meet and arrived on
the Friday, back then it was a
usual for all the dads to go big
on the Friday before the race.
My dad had forgotten that he
had completely stripped the
bike… until he woke up with
the mother of all hangovers
early hours of the morning
to an unassembled bike
spread across the hotel room
floor that he now had to put
together … surprisingly, it ran
just fine. There have been lots
of moments like that – more
than likely due to partying.
The Fitz-Gerald
boys. Darryl
getting used to
the view from
behind...
Tent racing at Gold
Reef - me on my PW.
Where it all begins, Kerim
on his brothers bike....
On the 80 in the Fox
Kawasaki days...
In action on
the KX60.
Kerim and Gareth
Swanepoel at Gold Reef
Airborne
on my 60...
DIRT & TRAIL MAGAZINE DECEMBER 2019 33