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Rider Profile Randy Toy
 
 
Randy Toy
Randy Toy
Randy Toy
 
 
 
Randy Toy
Randy Toy
Randy Toy
 
Here are a few photos of me when I was growing up. (All Photos Taken by my Mother)
I used to think this was the biggest jump in the world (WOW Was I wrong) But it was alot for me at the age of 5   At the age of 4 I was really upset when I could not ride because I got the bike so muddy it would not move any more
  Im the one standing and my brother is at the wheel  
The article is for the season championship for the 80cc Class Me in my first year on a 125cc From Left to right Destry Abbott, Me, Byron May
Im the smallest guy on the team and can bairly see over the handle bars.   Me sporting my first real set of Motocross Gear.
Above its me on bike #10 with Destry Abbott #8 on the right Me at the start of the race in Cinder Mountain 100 1983 Me with my father after being the youngest Professional ever to finish a Best in the Desert Race (I got 10th Place in the 125cc Pro Class there were more than 100 class entry)
Me with my new Sponsors "KTM"
Me With my first Championship Trophy
Me With Best In the Desert Event organizer
Casey Folks for the Wisky Peets Round 1987
Me With my first Major Sponsors "KTM"
After winning my Class Title
Me With my first Championship Trophy
200cc Beginner Class Champion 1985 This year I raced both 80cc and 125cc
Me Receiving my 2nd Championship in 2 years this one was for the 200cc Expert Class Season Championship 1986   Me with local hotshot back in the 80s Drey Dirks
   

 

    Going for the Gold Story By Randy Toy

Randy Toy         If the saying is true, “You are what you eat,” then I am motorcycles. I eat, sleep and dream almost nothing else. I live for the smell of exhaust in the morning and the heart pounding, breathless, bitter, and almost sick to your stomach feeling, when waiting for the start of a race. I live for the adrenaline, bar to bar, banging, tangling, on the gas, go for broke rush you get in a few short laps. Oh, and let’s not forget our parents who are either pulling their hair out, gritting their teeth, or screaming at thetop of their lungs, “GO! GO! GO!
Then there is something about a father who will do just about anything and give everything he has just to get you to the race, he will spend every single cent, he will sell one of his own toys, and he stays up all night getting your bike ready for tomorrow’s race. On top of all that he will run a million miles a minute on race day making sure things go smoothly. Through it all, win or lose, he will never complain. No matter how it turns out you are still his #1. That’s my dad! When you have a dad that tries that hard, works that long and cares that much, you can’t help but do your best. Though I race my race wanting success for myself, at the end when the checkered flag waves, it’s for him too. Now that the future has caught up with me a little I am taken back to when I was young and how exciting everything really is, I mean think about it, it's early morning race day and your nervous, yet excited and confident that this will be a great day of racing. You hear somewhere nearby, someone starting their bike, revving it up every few seconds to get it warmed up. Then you can here a few more, then a few more and before you know it your one of them. It's cold outside and the air is super crisp and
the smell of excitement starts to rev your heart up, as exhaust fumes get you thinking about the race. You walked the track or you had a good practice the day before and really felt great about the day to come. With the bike dialed in, and in a few short hours you will be running wide open trying to finish the race, and you find yourself sitting about 5th or 6th thinking to your self "I should be at the front of the pack!"
So you find a little more throttle and make a pass for 4th on the last lap, it makes you feel great for how much fun it was to battle for a position, any position and come out ahead.
Well that's something we all need to think about, we can't win them all but we sure can have fun trying. I mean why get mad because you got 15th place or dead last, shoot I remember a couple years ago at a points race, I had got the wholeshot and was running away from everyone and to top it off it was going to be my first win that year, but somewhere I lost focus for a split second and ended up on the ground. It took forever to get my bike pulled out of the mud and re-started. So long in fact that I was lapped by last place or second to last guy with me still in the race. I finally got my bike started and had caught that second to last place guy, then for the next 4 laps (the rest of the race) we had the best race I can ever remember. Shoot I had already been lapped by him so I knew there was no way to get that lap back, but that didn't matter we must have passed each other 10 times or more in those short few laps, the rider that I was battling with at the time had also crashed while leading the race at one point. Well my point is that you can have just as much fun and learn just as much or more by racing for the lead as you can racing for last place. My Dad had always stressed the fact that he wanted me to do the best I could do, but I could tell that meant PLEASE WIN!!! But he was fine with me getting 10th place as long as I did not give up.
I am saying this because there are alot of parents out there that are alot like my father in this way and I feel privileged to be apart of the racing circuit here in the midwest and I am thank full to everyone that knows what I am taking about. I say good job to you and keep it up, we still need to be pushed just not pushed off the edge that goes for father and son alike, with respect comes desire, and with desire comes success So pass it on the next generation the way we were ment to, with true pride in how ever far they make it after all It is so much fun why spoil it for everyone.
If it weren't’t for my dad I wouldn't’t have gotten on that PW 50 at such a young age. Being only four and never having even ridden a bicycle. It didn't’t seem like the best idea to my mom that I be riding a motorcycle. I am sure my dad thought” The sooner the better.”  
  I raced my heart out around the front yard at full speed, giving it everything I had. If it weren't’t for dad the first time I hit the only tree in 5 miles, mom would have ended my life of racing right then and there. I don’t remember what my father said, but I am sure it was something like, “Ah he’s alright! He’ll be just fine.” And the second time (one lap later) when I hit that darn tree again. I am sure mom said, “That it. I think he has had quite enough!”
  Good old dad had faith in me, he saw that “I am not going to give up!” look. The one that tells fathers everywhere, “I’ll get it this time,---promise!”
Good old dad, if it weren't’t for him, I guess motorcycle racing would be just a fantasy I read about. But thanks to him, I live it and love it.
  One day when I was about 10 years old dad asked me, “Hey son how would you like to go racing? I know where there is one this weekend.” My eyes lit up with excitement and enthusiasm as I said “Yeah! I would love to.”
   That’s all it took and that Friday we were packing and off to the races. Dad had it all planned out, he would take me to one of the hardest races of the year knowing that if I liked it he would have no problem getting me to the rest of the races that year. There was a future for me on a motorcycle and my dad had seen it. As my first race much to my surprise was in the trees and rocks. Definitely more difficult then I could have imagined. After the day was over and the dust had settled, and my place in the history of that race was calculated we were repacked and on our way home. I went on about my first day of racing all the way home. Mom and dad listened and told me how proud they were of me. If it had not been for the encouragement I got from my parents I’m sure it would have ended differently. As it was I finished 12th in a field of 30 riders, and for me it was in every way a great accomplishment.

   My life of motorcycles expanded from there, for by the end of my first season I had collected enough points to finish 4th place for the season in the 80cc beginner class. It was enough to get my picture printed in Cycle News for the very first time, displaying the top 5 of us Mini beginners excepting our season trophies and making our quote “I’d like to thank my sponsors and parents” speeches.
   Among us a kid by the name of Destry Abbott stood proud if his year as well. Destry, a childhood friend is now one of the Worlds top desert racers. He and others like Shawn Kalos and Jimmy Button began our lives of racing in the great state of Arizona and the Wild West. Though Destry and I raced once a month in the desert races on our weekends away from that we would get our practice at local Motocross tracks.
   After a couple of years of hard work, dedication and a lot of practice I had become one of the top Mini desert racers in Arizona. In my last year of racing an 80, my father had made it possible to race not only in the 80cc class but the 200cc class as well. This time with two bikes a KTM 80 and a KTM 125 I would have two chances that season to earn my first title. I desperately wanted a championship title and was more determined then ever to claim that #1 plate.
  By the 9th race of that season I was in a tight points chase in the 200cc beginner class, sitting only 5 points out of 1st and in the 80cc amateur class I was only 10 points out sitting in 3rd respectfully. I could still win the title in either class so it wasn’t till the last race of the year until I had to decide which class to race for the championship title. You see at the last race of the year I could only enter one class. So of course I had to choose, this is how it looked.
   In the 200cc beginner class, all I would have to do to win the points championship was beat one rider. In the other hand the 80cc class I still held some favoritism I wanted desperately to clench the title in this class but it was just beyond my reach. In order for me to win the title I would have to finish ahead of every 80cc rider there that day and hope that none of the other racers in the top five of the points battle finished the race. It was obvious to me at the time I must go for the 200cc beginner class title.
  75 miles into the race I was leading, with a 15 minute advantage on the rider I had to beat running second in my class only a few seconds from first. As it is when things are going your way the worse things always happen, and for me it did. I ran out of gas. But I wasn’t going to throw away my title that easily, and to make matters worse running out of gas was only half the problem, it happened in a sand wash with a banking on either side that was about 6 to 10 foot high in places, and that made things difficult! But that didn’t stop me I pushed my bike through 12 inches of powdery soft sand for 2 miles in 90+ desert heat, in which time I was passed by the rider I had to beat and continuing to lose time. Sometime later seemingly an eternity from behind I heard someone yelling “What’s wrong?” I turned around to see my brother in the middle of his own race. Out of the kindness of a brother and teammate alike he and I somehow drained some gas from his 4-wheeler and poured it into my bike. I needed to make up that 45 minutes I lost and do it with 75 miles left to race. I knew I was in for the biggest challenge of my life.
   About 30 miles later on a long stretch of an old broken up highway, I could see what appeared to be someone running toward me. As I got closer I could see that it was myRandy Toy father running down the track with a 5 gallon can of gas. He waved me on screaming at the top of his lungs "GO! GO! GO!” Right at that moment I realized how proud I was to have him for a father, him doing that for me that day sparked a fire that in turn pushed me to an even higher level of racing. With this new drive I found myself full of energy once again. I was going to catch the one rider I had to and whoever else was in the way.
   When I arrived in the pits someone told me I had made up a lot of time. They said I was only 15 minutes down, within seconds I was off again heading into the last section of this 150 mile Mexico desert race, destination Rocky Point. With approximately 5 miles to go I knew the end of the race was near and I had still not passed the one racer I needed to pass. Every cloud of dust in the distance in my mind had to be The one rider I needed to catch. For that last 10 miles I had that feeling every time I saw a cloud of dust ahead of me, "One more rider, this is the one I need!!"  yet time and time again is was not the one I needed to catch. In the last 5 miles of this race, there were some of the fastest whooping turns I had faced all day, thoughts were running through my head that I was not going to catch this rider, and with every thought, I rode faster and harder hoping the next one would put me in the position I needed to be. Soon there was a split in the course and I had to make a instant decision, I went to the left seeing it looked to be the fastest line. a few minutes into this direction I felt something was wrong and began to think I was lost. then it dawned on me that I had not seen any dust or passed any racers since i had made the split. Looking at the ground I noticed that there were plenty of tracks in the dirt so I must be on the right trac, when all of a sudden I could see a bike about 100 yards to my right. Trying to concentrate on the bike I was not paying attention to where I was going and blew a turn running myself through a large cactus, and to this day I have no idea how I managed not to crash or even get a single spine in me from that cactus. But when I finally regained control of the bike I was back on the course just behind that bike I had seen. We both took a hard turn to the right and that was when I saw the number on the bike of that rider. My heart raced faster than it had all day as I realized I was right behind the one person I had to beat. I could smell the Fresh ocean air and realized that we were close to the finish line. I carefully planned my pass and waited until there was plenty of room, within a couple minutes I took my move and made the pass, I HAD MADE IT I screamed to my self , just then I missed another turn and found my self once again taking down another cactus, I regained control of the bike and managed not to crash but did loose the position once again. With less than 2 miles left I speed off with more determination than I had all day. I chased this rider down and took my move with out planning and made it stick. As I was nearing the finish line I thought to my self "It doesn't get any more fun than this". and I thanked god for letting me not Die out there out of gas, and also thanked him for helping me win this title. Though I didn’t win that race I did manage to beat the one rider I had to, finishing with a narrow margin thus becoming the 200cc beginner class champion for the season. At the awards banquet my father was nominated the pit crew chief of the year, in the Arizona Desert Racing Association and I myself was crowned the new 200cc beginner class champion. After receiving my trophy I thanked my father for a great year and told him “Next year I’m going to win the novice class title”

   Dad said, “It’s a tall task son but there is no doubt in my mind you’ll do it. You have the talent, if you want it bad enough you’ll do it.”
  The first race of the year, the New Years Grand prix in Phoenix Arizona was my debut as a novice and the beginning of my best season of racing yet. My determination and hard work in the year to come, would take me further than I ever imagined. I attended a Motocross school taught by Russ Darnell. Most of his teachings applied to racing in general, his school was by far the single most beneficial training I’d received in my years. No matter what I did or what sport I played I’d give it everything I have for I’ve always strived to be the best at everything I do. It is this attitude that made my life of racing a success within the first 6 races of the year I managed to win 3, excelling beyond my original goal of claiming the 200cc novice class title and found myself competing in the amateur class with surprising success.
   By the 9th race of the year I was racing in the Expert class winning 2 of the last 4 races as a Expert. As things panned out my fast rise from beginner to Pro, in the span of a single season gave me the satisfaction of being the single season most improved racer in the history of ADRA. Atop all that I had collected enough points to be crowned the new 200cc Expert Class Champion and was also the youngest to ever win a Pro title. I, having raced most of the year at age 14 and claiming the last few races at only 15 I was on top of the world.
   Twelve years later I find myself going for the higher goal, this time its not me I’m trying to help, this time it’s a friend. Sometimes you see something in someone and just know there is something special. Look at Bubba Stewart and Ricky Carmichael, they have had a long road and have what every young racer dreams of having. Not everyone can be as good or even as great as Bob Hanna, Rick Johnson, David Bailey, Jeff Ward, and Jeremy McGrath. Only a handful can even make it to the Pro level, and once there, they don’t always have it made. Some of the best racers out there don’t even make the main from time to time, or even qualify for the Sunday National, but they come back every week because they love the sport.
   You know there is something about racing a motorcycle that you can’t fully explain until you've done it your self. Those of you out there that have been in these shoes, or “Boots” so to speak, know that it is more than a way of life, it’s a dream. For me every time I get to ride my motorcycle I get the most wonderful feeling, and even now knowing that one day I will have to put away the boots and the Helmet, and wash my gear for the last time, and then I might wake up from this dream and wish I could do it all over again, and not change a thing. I understand now what I once had and what I could have had, and know that I have an obligation to pass on what I have learned. I can't regret anything in my past because it has brought me to this day and made me who I am.
   It begins again, the racing and the excitement, the thrill and the dream, except this time I see the future in everyone around me, It s now that I am excited to capture the future before it gets here. It's exciting to know that there is so much talent in the midwest and that I can be here to capture the beginning of what is yet to come.
I look forward to seeing everyone at the races, and as always, Good Luck to everyone and most of all HAVE FUN!!!

Good luck and God Speed……………………

Here are some pictures of my old bike. This is a 2003 Kawasaki KX 125. I did Everything to this one. I mean everything. From the White Spokes and Hubs to motorwork.
I loved this bike. Now it is all over the USA as I parted it out on ebay to pay for my hospital bills. Well you got to do what you got to do.

 

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