Justin Williamson Bio Page - Williamson Racing.com

One of my proudest and most unique facts about my racing career is that I managed to go 12 years of riding, and about 320 races before my first seriously injured. And if that's not unique enough, I also experienced my first DNF on that very same day, in October of 2006. We've come very close a few times, but it took that long to catch up with me. Admittedly, it was my bad judgment that caused it. Hopefully, I can go the rest of my career without another incident--it's one of my goals!

I'm very fortunate, but I will not call it luck, and I won't take all the credit. There are two very important factors working together. One of them is my Uncle's perfectionism regarding bike preparation, his extreme sense of safety, and his protective gear ideas. He spent a lot of time coaching me on how to protect my bike and myself, while riding very aggressively; and we modified and improved virtually every piece of protective gear I wear. For years he made me wear that big, bulky, ugly stuff. Now I believe in it, and I wear it proudly.

The other factor is what I call the "95% rule." Our theory: if you practice and race at only 95% of your speed, it's almost impossible to make a serious mistake. And after analyzing off-road racing, we realized that the endurance factor is so great, it seems humanly impossible to ride faster then 95% for very long anyway. I decided to not ever take the risk of riding "over my head." I may have lost a few places here and there, but it's been a lot less painful, and my parent's medical bills have been minimal. I know my progress has been much faster than if injuries were involved; I've practiced virtually everyday for years. And nobody looks forward to the boredom of recovery and rehab.

I'm fortunate that so many friends, family and sponsors believe in me and support me. I've raced almost every weekend for over 6 years, and practiced and trained everyday, rain or shine. It all seems to be coming together. In 2005, I finished 4th at the Red Bull "Last Man Standing"-- the toughest race in the US, got 6th overall in the NC GNCC, 8th at Loretta Lynn's GNCC, and a bunch of top fifteen's. That consistency earned me the National #12 for the 2006 season. I also earned the National #7 in the AMA National Harescramble series. In the OMA National Series, I won the 7th and 9th rounds, made the podium 6 times, and earned the National #2. I Also qualified for the ISDE that year. Yet, one of my proudest racing moment came that summer when Barry Hawk caught up to me late in an AMA National, and I was able to dig deep enough to stay with 2004 GNCC Champ for over a half hour. I was feeling "on top of the world". After the race, when he said to me, "You were riding good today, I couldn't gain on you in that tight gnarly stuff," my pride went to an all time high! Coming from the only guy that can run with Juha, that's the best compliment I ever got. Respect from my colleagues, many of which are my racing heroes, is very important to me.

The most surprising development of my career is the success of my WilliamsonRacing.com website. At first we just thought it would be kind of cool. But soon we realized, even though it's a lot of work, it's an excellent tool to keep my sponsors informed and help them with advertising. It's also a great way to keep friends, family and fans informed and entertained. And most important, it's turning out to be a way to start giving back to the sport that has been so good to me. Because we've learned so much in my short career, we figured our knowledge may be valuable to others. And I enjoy helping people. But our biggest surprise is that the website has grown so rapidly. Now I'm extremely excited about it, and extremely busy. I work on it every minute that I'm not riding, training or working with my sponsors; probably about 2 hours a day. And I barely have time to answer all my E-mail's. Everyone says it's a great problem to have; sometimes I agree.

One of the greatest things about being a pro racer, is having the opportunity to help out some of the younger people getting into the sport. I remember what it felt like when I was a kid and the pros paid attention to me. I'm also starting to realize how important it is to set good examples for the younger riders. I've been lucky enough to work with some of the kids on their riding, and it's great to see them improve. As role models for the kids, I believe we have a responsibility to "do the right thing." So I'm determined to set a good example for them. Hopefully for next couple of decades.

As a matter of fact, the most exciting and rewarding development in our program was our "Justin And Friends" racing seminars. Because we attended so many competitions, many race promoters we're happy to schedule a few hours on the weekend, for me and some of the local Pros to work with the kids. They were designed to motivate, educate, and entertain the kids. I'm hoping to do do more in the future; it's a great to help others experience our great sport.

So how did an easygoing kid from a suburban Florida neighborhood, with a little extra baby fat, and Nintendo-savvy friends, become a professional motorcycle racer?

I was a lucky kid! I had two great parents, a big brother, wonderful Grandparents, and a really fun uncle that spent a lot of time with us. I had an easy childhood at my home in the Orlando suburb of Sanford, Florida. Most of the time I played video games and rode bicycles and skateboards with my friends. I did a little tennis, baseball, and soccer with my Dad and my Uncle, but I never got too excited about it. I did however love riding the twenty-year-old, ragged-out dirt bikes with Dad and Uncle Chris up on my Grandparents farm in upstate New York each summer. It would be many years before I learned that my Uncle had once been a very talented expert motocross racer; and my Dad was pretty good too.

I was a very easygoing, laid-back kid; and maybe not as ambitious as some. When I was about ten, I was a little chubby. My Dad and Uncle knew the answer to that problem from their years of experience racing motorcycles back in the 70's. My parents got me an old ragged out KDX 200, and Uncle Chris taught me a lot about fixing bikes. In no time, I lost all my extra weight. I was kind of surprised at how much sweating you can do while having so much fun slamming Florida sand whoops.

My parents bought whatever parts and equipment I needed for riding--as long as I kept doing what was expected of me. You all know what I mean: good grades, do my own bike work and clean-up, feed the dog--all that stuff. Uncle Chris made a deal with me; he would work on my bike, any time, as long as I was right there working with him. That's what taught me to be a good mechanic. It worked out good, because the work got done quick, and we were back out riding again. He also said if I ever become a Pro racer he'll do all my mechanical work. I'm sure he had no idea how soon he would fulfill that promise, and just how much work it would be. Now I'm getting a little rusty. With training, practicing, website work, and sponsor promotions activities, I barely have enough time to sleep, let alone work on bikes. Besides, with Uncle Chris prepping my bikes, they've never let me down.

It wasn't long before Uncle Chris, Dad and I were riding trails together. They bought KDX's of their own so they could supervise my riding. When our friends asked us to come race a harescramble event, we thought it sounded like a lot of fun. It was my first race--and almost my last! As fate would have it, my first race ever was one of the toughest; coincidentally, it was the only race in Florida held at an abandoned quarry, with steep, clayish muddy hills. It downpoured for the entire race. I struggled because I was only 11, 120lbs, about 5'2'', and not in great shape yet. The hills were treacherous and the mud was pure agonizing work. I hadn't ridden in mud much, and I just didn't have an open mind about how much fun mud riding can be. I had all but decided that racing was not for me, if only my Dad and Uncle weren't so extremely proud of me for not quitting. I was hooked! We didn't miss an FTR race after that, rain or shine. We spent two years having fun in the "C" class. Uncle Chris and I spent my entire summer vacations each year in upstate New York working hard on the farm, and most important, learning how to ride the northern terrain.

When I was 13, I started begging for a new motorcycle, as every kid probably does. My parents didn't spoil me; they made me earn everything. They made a deal with me: if I would do a perfect school year, all "A's", not even one "B", I could have any new motorcycle I wanted. Yea, you guessed right. Be careful what you promise a thirteen year old kid that loves racing. It cost them about six thousand dollars. That brand new '01 YZ 250 was the prettiest thing I ever saw. And I actually got a good education that year.

Uncle Chris and I raced all summer in New York on my new bike, with mediocre results in the B-250 class. I loved the bike, and the whole racing scene was always fun to me, but for those first 3 years, I just wasn't very serious about racing well. Then I won my first race ever, in a miserable, cold, rainy, downpour in New York, at the last race of the summer; and something changed in me forever. The ground was saturated and the conditions were so bad that half of the field asked for their money back before the race even started. We never considered not racing; we couldn't understand why those guys would miss out on all that torturous fun. I mean, what else can you do on a rainy day that is anywhere near as fun. Besides, when I was very young I was encouraged to feel proud to "succeed in the face of adversity", and even now, conquering difficult challenges feels much more rewarding to me than conquering the easy ones; I kind of like it when we have to hurry to put our mud tires on the morning of a race because it rained all night, or lift my bike up out of a mudhole I got it stuck in, just to ride on to the next one, and try again.

Coming off the starting line of the first race I ever won, the mud roost was so heavy that we had to pull our goggles off just to find the first corner. We were in a downpour, and the rain stung our eyes in the field sections. The woods offered a little relief while we made our way through the thick mud. We were careful not to get stuck in the mud holes that were quickly becoming littered with bikes. We just made consistent progress. By the half way point of the race, one hill became so difficult that the only riders that made it through were those willing to push their bike the entire length -- nearly impossible, though not impossible! It took us twenty minutes to make that short stretch of a hill, littered with burned-up bikes, and exhausted riders, commenting:" You can't make it. You're wasting your time. Give it a rest." Everyone else in our class gave up, but we didn't know that at the time. We kept going. By the time we got to that hill on the next lap, the course had been rerouted. We were the only ones to finish all the laps in B 250. When I received my first "winner's" trophy, I was changed forever. That day, I became a truly serious racer! Since then my only real career goal was to be an off-road pro.

Up until then, I didn't know what it meant to be a serious racer. I thought the top racers just rode a lot; so that’s what I did. Back in Florida, when I got a disappointing tenth at my first B250 FTR race, I knew I was doing something wrong. Uncle Chris had been trying to coach me for years, but I wasn't as dedicated to the work as I was to having lots of fun. However, at that point, I was willing to learn! He set out to teach me how to become the best I can be. I realized that I needed to change to improve. The changes were difficult and frustrating, but we worked through it and succeeded. Within a month I was winning races. Very soon I was checking out on the class. At that point, I hit another milestone -- I was truly dedicated to racing, and decided to try to make it to the "big time." I wanted to be--a Pro Racer!

My parents and Uncle Chris agreed that if I continued to do well in school, and win the B-250 class in Florida, they would set me up to" home school" on the road while pursuing my dream of becoming a professional racer. In the spring of 2002 I achieved that goal, and they fulfilled their promise. Uncle Chris stopped working as a professional tennis instructor and went on the road with me, as my teacher, driver, mechanic, coach, trainer, and manager. My parents have financed me the whole way. Those were big sacrifices. I hoped to not let them down!

I quickly got the hang of GNCC National racing in the B-250 class, after a disappointing start. Soon I started doing well. By the end of the season I was running the fourstroke A class and doing well on a KTM 400 that I traded for one of my '01 YZ 250's. The main reason I developed so quickly that year was because I was practicing everyday, and raced every weekend, sometimes twice on a weekend. But always, starting on the front row to learn from the best riders!

As we traveled around the country racing, in some district series they thought 14 was too young to ride AA. I would tell the promoters that even though his AAs were very good riders, I was confident that I would beat about half of them. I need to thank those promoters that laughed at me, as much as the ones that were more respectful. Every time they made me start in the second row, I had the "I'll show them" attitude. Uncle Chris laughs about it now, and says," you should have seen how serious you looked on 'those' starting lines." He was right; I remember the feeling. Those guys weren't going to rob me of my valuable riding lesson for the week. They just didn't understand why I wanted to race in a class that was sure to beat me--no chance of winning. I didn't have any interest in winning. I just wanted to learn. Of course, those were some of my best races; I holeshoted each one, and caught and passed more than half of the AAs. I showed them. But more important, I showed myself. Since then I've often turned negatives into positives.

I gained a tremendous amount of racing experience that year, because Uncle Chris persuaded me to race against the "AAs", when I was still at the "B" level, early in the season. He said it was the quickest way to learn, as long as you don't try too hard to stay with them. He was right. In every race there would be a "AA" that would get a bad start, or was having a bad day, or would crash. I learned a little from every one of them. Pretty soon I was beating all the slower ones, and learning from the better riders. By the end of the season, I was running with the top "AAs" and improving quickly. I was just fifteen years old.

We've been home less than 10 times since 2002, but only for Christmas and the FL GNCC each year. Then we were back on the road, chasing down more valuable racing experience. We both easily adapted to life on the road. I never really experiencing home sickness. Thanks to cell phones, I talked to my parents everyday. The nicest surprise that we encountered early in our travels was how friendly people are at off-road races everywhere. We've made so many friends, our phone book is bulging. Some people were concerned about my social development, and that I might miss my friends back home. I don't know about other home school kids, but if they go to a harescramble race every weekend, as I do, they would probably do a lot of socializing, as Uncle Chris often claims I do, when he hollers, "quit shooting the breeze, and get ready for your race." I can't even count how many wonderful friends I have at the races. But I do know how fortunate I am because of them.

We weren't lonely when our dog "Moto-Smoky" was given to us. But she was a stray that needed a home. And things have become even more fun ever since. She's a smart dog, great with kids, does lots of silly dog antics, and a great companion; especially when times get tough. And there were times that were tough.

Two years ago, my Mom's terminal cancer came back aggressively for the last time. My parents didn't want me to go through the agony with them. I think it's the main reason they didn't mind me being on the road all the time. So they called us back home only near the end. I spent a couple nice days at the hospital with my Mom. Then a couple tough days. Then she was gone forever. At first it was difficult. But staying busy with racing and having so many friends has helped me through. Sometimes I think about her, especially when things get tough. I miss making her laugh; we used to laugh a lot together. She was always very comforting. But I know she wouldn't want me to dwell on the past. So I rode on.... into the future.

In 2003, I hit another milestone when we bought a couple of the new YZ 450's. I spent the season learning to ride that monster, and won the last four rounds of the GNCC series in the fourstroke A class, making the top twenty overall twice at age 16. That winter I earned the #3 plate in the SETRA harescramble series. In '04 I ran the YZ 250 2 strokes in the GNCC 250 A class, earning the National #21 ranking for the '05 season. At the same time, I earned the #3 plate in the OMA National series in the Midwest, and the #12 ranking in the AMA National Harescramble series. At that point I believed I could handle the GNCC Pro class in '05; and I did! I almost couldn't imagine starting on the front line of a GNCC National (possibly the most competitive series in the world), along with 30 of the best racers in the world. In the Spring of 2006, I did it with the hard-earned, shinny #12 on my bike.

After a very unexpected mediocre first half of the '06 racing season, and eventually falling out of the top-20, my confidence was shaken, but my will was not. It took a lot of determination to get past the disappointment, and find a way to persevere towards success again. But as is the usual case, the important people in my life, never gave up on me, so I couldn't either. As my dedication and determination grew, race results naturally followed, eventually climaxing at the "Wisp" GNCC in late June.

As I stood on the podium of the toughest event in the most prestigious off-road racing series in the world, along with the former and current National Champions, Barry Hawk, and Juha Salminen, my mechanic (Uncle Chris), leaned forward, and over the noise of the cheering crowd said, " Congratulations kid, you've made it."

The summer of ’06 was full of intense racing, every weekend. It was the GNCC summer break, but we knew the factory teams needed riders, and were going to be watching all the top "up-and-comers" very closely throughout the next couple of months. So we didn’t let up at all; I slammed out a bunch of great rides. And with so much intense practice and training, I managed to bump my skill up to the next level. All through the fall, I just kept putting out solid rides. Our consistency and commitment didn’t go unnoticed.

We were extremely busy with sponsor deal negotiations and racing every weekend in the fall. It was going to be a challenge to finance my racing in ‘07, but we had it under control. Still, I made sure a couple factory teams knew I was interested in riding for them; they’re a direct route to racing success. None of them seemed very interested at first, so we decided that if there wasn’t room on a team for me, we’d build our own team. There are plenty of riders I’d like to have as teammates, we have a nice big race hauler all setup, and my sponsors were very excited about the idea. Organizing and managing it was going to be tough, although Uncle Chris and my Dad were willing to help, so not impossible. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, I was approached with an offer to ride for the world’s premier off-road motorcycle company, KTM, alongside David Knight and Robbie Jenks. A ride with the full factory-backed GNCC team! It finally happened. My greatest dream was about to come true!

It was everything I’d been working and hoping for, ever since we started this full-time venture, almost 7 years ago. I know we paid our dues; and everyone involved made huge sacrifices to help me get the "great opportunity". It all worked out, and somehow I had become one of the top off-road racers. But we all know, in this business, offers of a full factory ride are few and far between, and with KTM, a chance of a lifetime! And we were thrown off a little by their "offer of a lifetime"! You can imagine how you would feel if suddenly you were offered a position with an outstanding company to go out each day and have fun tearing it up on the best dirt bike made? That’s the kind of daydream I used to have in school! I didn’t actually think it could happen. It was just a cool dream. I’ve since however, realized that the really great dreams – and goals – require dedication and work to bring them about. But they definitely can come true!

A couple months ago, with only 2 races to go until the end of the regular season, the future of my career looked bright, and exciting. Soon, I got to meet everyone involved with the KTM team. The atmosphere in the team’s pits was great – everyone treated each other with respect and sort of like a family. They’re all very serious about racing, yet often joking around and having fun. I decided to concentrate on the KTM deal, rather than building my own team or pursuing other factory teams. I was certain KTM was going to be a perfect fit for me.

Then a string of career highlights and milestones hit my world! Obviously, I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize this deal as it wouldn’t be finalized for weeks, so we decided to just keep doing my thing. That’s what got me here, right? Well, I must have been subconsciously motivated, because soon I reached another milestone in my career. I was running fast in the "Iron Man" GNCC in Indiana, and by the end of lap 5, I set the fastest lap time – a career first for me. It defined me as one of the true "fast guys" that day. When it was announced, they tell me my pit crew was beyond happy. About an hour later, a completely opposite announcement was made to everyone at the race:” Williamson is out of the race”; another milestone was hit – my first DNF ever. I was about to move into 5th place, on the 6th lap, when my ignition stator began to go. Before starting out on the 7th and final lap, my pit crew rightfully figured that it was so late in the race; whatever the problem was would take too long to fix. It was acting up intermittently, so we put a new spark plug in, and hoped for the best. It ran fine for about a mile, acted up, then died completely. I kicked it over until the top 50 guys passed me. I knew I couldn’t catch the top-20, no matter what happened at that point. That was the first DNF of my entire career, and worse, I missed the top-ten ranking for the season. I thought I’d blown my dream job.

At the end of my first ever "walk out of the woods" without my bike, my spirits were raised when everyone started congratulating me on being the "fastest guy in the world" if only for 30 minutes. Juha won 2 GNCC Championships, 10 World Enduro Championships, and overalled this year’s 6-Day in New Zealand. There’s no doubt he’s the fastest guy in the world, and I beat even him on that lap! At first it didn’t seem all that significant. But after I got cleaned up and went around talking to everyone, I started hearing "Hey, if you can do it for one lap, you can do it for the whole race." Since it’s never been enough to match my past performance, I believe I can do it. The KTM team was excited for me too as I went down to their rig. They knew what that lap really meant. "How soon can you come to KTM in Ohio and let us give you a tour of your new place, and show you your new bikes?" they asked. They sure knew how to brighten up my day.

I told them we’d like to come in a couple weeks, after the last OMA National in Illinois. So that was the plan, but plans don’t always go as expected. We did arrive at KTM a couple weeks later to a wonderful greeting, even though circumstances had changed drastically. A day earlier, I’d informed them that their new factory rider had just blown his knee out . Crazy, huh? My first real injury in 12 years of riding and 320 races, and I pick that week, apparently to test fate, or something profound like that! What an unfortunate coincidence. The only good thing about it happening right then is that I had a good 3 months to heal up before the first race of ’07.

Let me back-up to about one week earlier, to the last OMA National of the year. Ten minutes into the race I had a minor crash and twisted my knee a little – at least that’s what I thought. It didn’t hurt much, and it didn’t swell much. Had it not been for the pending KTM deal, I probably wouldn’t have requested an MRI when the doctor told me he couldn’t find any problem with my knee. I didn’t want an injury to kill the KTM deal, but my new manager, who I respect very much, had a right to know exactly what condition his new rider was in. We went for the MRI.

I’ll be wearing knee braces from now on, because it obviously doesn’t take much to injure a knee. A torn ACL and MCL can be ‘deceptively painless’. Three days after the crash, I felt so good that I almost started training again. Instead I decided to wait one more day to get the MRI report. I should have prepared myself for the worst. I wasn’t ready to hear a doctor tell me for the first time ever "It’s not good. You’ll need surgery." My stomach was suddenly all tied up. I didn’t think about the inconvenience, pain, expense, stitches, boredom, regrets, painful rehab, or shame, not to mention any riding for months! All I could think of was how much I disappointed KTM, myself, my family, fans, friends, and on and on. It was not a good day in my life. I believed I’d just blown the best thing that ever happened to me.

As Uncle Chris and I left the hospital on the coldest night of the fall, I felt very down and empty. Uncle Chris was down too. The road was quiet, and we were just poking along, almost as if we had no place to go. We had been living like "racing gypsies" for almost 7 years, chasing a dream. We had only returned home each year at Christmas, for a few days or maybe a week. Then it was back on the road to the next race. In all those years, we were so dedicated; we never slowed down enough to take time off. There was just always something we needed to be doing; washing, fixing, training, sponsor stuff--7 days a week, never ending grind. I was beginning to think that all of our efforts had been wasted. And we were so close!

One of my main beliefs is to "never give up". That includes hope! There’s always hope, unless you give up on it. Just then I remembered something important while we were driving down the road. I said "Chris, you know how we were talking to someone a little while ago, I can’t remember who, and you were saying that every time something bad happens to us, there’s always something good that comes out of it?"

"Yea, I remember talking to somebody about that," he said." Why? What kind of good do you think we’re looking at with this one, Bud?"

"Well," I said "one thing’s for sure – if KTM still goes through with the deal, we won’t have any doubt that we’re with the right company. You know? It’ll mean they want me on the team. That’s good!"

He seemed a little happier, and I felt a lot better. For some reason I never seem to stay bummed for very long. Realistically, if a factory team as sharp as KTM would take me with a bum knee, I would never again doubt my ability or potential. They know what they’re doing in the racing industry. I figure, I’ll just get up each day, get this knee going again, follow their program and give it my best shot. Eventually,... we’ll win.

Well, the next morning I called the KTM North America Off-Road Team Manager with the bad news. I told him the doctor said 3 to 6 months. The response? "Justin, it’s not a big problem. I’ve been through this with other riders. A torn ACL and MCL will heal just fine. It’s just a part of the sport. When can you make it to KTM to finalize the deal with us?" he asked. Man, I could hardly speak! I just heard the best reassurance I could possibly imagine! I hung up and Uncle Chris said,"Good news, huh".

"Who do you think you're kidding?" he asked. "I've known you for 19 years. Whenever you're extremely happy about something, you try so hard to hide it; I know what that little hint of a smile means". We headed out for Ohio right away.

KTM North America is housed in two big complexes – offices, tech centers, parts center, warehouses, and the off-road team operations. Walking in there for the first time was exciting. Everyone was cheerful and friendly though they didn’t even know who I was. My Team Manager took us on a tour, and we met some great people. As he pushed through the last set of doors heading toward the back of one of the complexes, it opened into a huge room, 2 stories high. The whole race team semi was parked inside it, in its usual spot, taking up only a third of the space. The next third was comprised of 3 amazing workshop bays, each equipped with all the tools, lights, lift stands, lubricants, benches, air, cabinets, you name it, that you could ever wish to have in the perfect shop. At the end of that area sat 12 brand new, showroom orange KTMs with their racer’s name tags on them. The last third of the place had several offices, a computer area, and a special engine and suspension building room, on the main floor. Above that, on the upper level, was a gigantic team parts warehouse with all the shelves stocked and organized. We had just walked into a motorcycle racer’s heaven.

Soon the smiling face of my friend Donnie, the team mechanic and truck driver, was headed our way. Donnie took us over to a shop bay and said "That’s yours, Chris. You’ll be spending some time there. Set it up however you like it." I could tell Uncle Chris was impressed and a little blown away. He’s used to working on my bikes in the middle of our friend’s hay field or driveway, under an EZ-up, which is fine unless it’s cold, wet, windy, or hot; which it is half the time. All of the Michelins filling the racks from floor to ceiling, 2 stories high were cool to see too. Next, Donnie showed us all through the semi. It’s an amazing, smaller version of the huge shop with 2 complete levels and everything we could imagine needing at the races. Then we went upstairs to see all the parts. He said "You’ll never have to order parts again. Our parts guy will restock it. All you have to do is put it on the bike, and go ride."

"Hey, Justin," Donnie hollered "do you see your name on a couple of those bikes?" I spotted my new 250 XCF’s. It’s the best one out there, and it feels really light. I knew, in a few months I’d be swinging my leg over the best ride in the world, everyday. I get new bikes every year, but I still get that wonderful feeling every time I see them for the first time. They look so perfect when they’re new. Then Donnie added "There are more on the way." Wow!

A cool part of being on the KTM team is that I can still work with Uncle Chris if we want, yet he'll have a lighter work load because the KTM team support operations take care of so much. They're a very professional organization. I can finally afford a mechanic, which I figure Chris will keep doing for a little while anyway. But soon, he'll also have time to do some things he enjoys, like playing his guitar, hiking with Smokey, and hopefully putting together a lot more of our cool videos.

The next thing to do was to get moving on my knee surgery, as soon as possible. It was Monday, and we got an appointment on Wednesday in Jacksonville, FL with a great surgeon. I got on the computer and got my ticket out of Cleveland for the next day. Everything was happening fast, but the goal was to get back to 100% health. We read the contract over that night. The next morning I sat in the team manager's office as he explained to me that KTM is interested in a long-term relationship with me. Signing that contract was, by far, the proudest moment of my life!

Then I went up to see the guys in the KTM Hard Equipment Division, where I signed the contract to run the official KTM racing gear, a part of their KTM Hard Equipment line, which is mostly manufactured by Thor, so it’s great stuff too. Signing these contracts on Tuesday represented another big milestone in my career – I believed in me, my family and friends believed in me, and now KTM believes in me!

With all that finalized, I hopped on a plane, and a few hours later I was in the Jacksonville. Dad drove over from his home near Orlando, and we enjoyed a dinner and catching up on things that night. The next day, one of the best knee guys in the country, who is also an off-road racer, said "Surgery in 1 week. We’ll get you going again."

A week later, regret hit me again! I was in pain, and unable to sleep. But within days I was feeling better and better. At one week, I felt great, and I would start rehab soon. At a month, the rehab was going so well I started walking on it. At 6 weeks I was training harder than ever. Except for the knee, I worked every muscle in my body. I figure even when I did start back, the rest of my body could compensate for my right leg for a while. After all, I do have some pretty big motivators now – riding my new KTMs!

We spent the winter rehabbing and training up in Ohio at KTM, while getting to know everyone, and learning all about the team program. Uncle Chris and Smokey had been up there the whole winter, so they’re way ahead of me; and I was excited to see them again. The little break also gave me some time to get on the phone and thank a lot of people responsible for my success. It was also great to have my Grandma’s wonderful thanksgiving feast, for the first time in many years. It was awesome!

In mid-February we fired up our Williamson Racing Rig for the first time in months. The winter was about to come to an end for us. It was time to head south. We loaded up a bunch of KTM beauties, and a bunch of parts that I knew we'd be replacing soon. KTM's are the most reliable bikes out there, but I was good and ready to start using my new bikes...and using them "hard." It is my job after all.

I had 3 weeks to finish healing my knee, and learn how to ride again. The 2007 season opener--The "Triton" GNCC in Florida, would be the real test. Probably, so far, the test of my life. Everyone wondered, including me, whether I could come back. Some guys just don't ever find the magic again. Injuries can do that. I worked and hoped, everyday, all winter. I wanted what I used to have--bad!

The first ride? I think I remember actually hollering it out--I love this bike!!! It was amazing. The thing did everything. The knee seemed alright too. Two days later the entire KTM Team arrived for the final suspension test before the season opener. When my team manager asked me if I was just doing easy trail riding, I didn't really know what to tell him. I'd been slamming it out for 3 days strait. I know he wanted me to heal well before pushing hard. I was being a little careful, but everything felt so good.

Three weeks later I'd mastered the sand, the bike was flawless, and I was ready to show the world what this machine can do. My westcoast teammate, Kurt Caselli, wanted to race the Florida GNCC, so I loaned him one of my bikes. On that fast stuff, I knew he was the favorite. At the end of that gruelling race, as the runner-up, I proudly stood up there on that podium next to Kurt and Cole Caulkins. The coolest thing was, it's probably the only time 2 of my bikes will ever be on the same podium!

KTM may not know it yet, but I know they chose the right guy. What’s going to happen in 2007 is still to be written. But I’m looking forward to representing the company, showing you all how amazing these machines really are, and hitting some more great milestones, for a long time to come!

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Justin's Extensive Bio