In
1916 at Dodge City, Kansas, Harley-Davidson nailed down once and for all that Milwaukee's
racing motorcycles were the best in the business. The victor was a young Milwaukee
man with a "One Thousand Dollar Smile" -- HW
The Dodge City Classic
Harley-Davidson’s Battle for Racing Supremacy
by
Herbert Wagner
The dust has settled, the last spectator gone home, but the legend remains...
By 1916,
the 300-mile race at Dodge City, Kansas, had become the premier battleground of American
motorcycle competition. It was a fitting arena. The memory of Indian Wars, buffalo
hunters, cattle drives, and gunfighters haunted the “Wickedest Little City in America.”
Now the motor age had brought its magic to the banked, two-mile dirt track on the
Kansas prairie. It was at this famous race that the Harley-Davidson motorcycle would
prove its speed and endurance above all others.
On July 4th, 1916, twenty-year-old Irving Janke straddled a Harley-Davidson eight-valve
racer at the Great Plains Classic. The “youngster” looked out of place beside his
battle-scarred opponents. Janke was a dark horse in this field of veterans.
* * *
Except for a few very early attempts, the 
founders of Harley-Davidson had shied away from outright
speed racing. For years reliability or endurance runs were favoried. The Harley was
a work-horse and not a racing stud. When a private owner won a race of speed on a
Harley-Davidson, the Milwaukee factory quickly noted that these were “stock” motors,
and not special racing jobs.
But racing had given Indian and Excelsior a mystique that translated into sales --
one that Harley-Davidson could not forever ignore -- and at the first Dodge City
race in 1914, Milwaukee joined the big name racing game.
Harley-Davidson’s initial effort was not inspiring. Indian, Thor, and Excelsior took
the top six places in a field that also included Merkel and Pope. Just two of six
Harleys finished the race. The one positive note came at the 120-mile mark when a
Harley vied for the lead, but then chain failure took it out of the race. The Milwaukee
crew went home determined to do better next time -- and they did.
In 1915, a smoothly functioning pit crew and updated equipment saw H-D on a winning
streak that held right through the big Dodge City race. When the final flag dropped,
Harley-Davidson riders had taken first, second, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh
places. Milwaukee had beaten Indian, Excelsior, Pope, Emblem, Merkel, and the overhead-camshaft
Cyclone at the biggest race of all -- Dodge City.
Not just beaten them, but rubbed their faces in the dirt. Only Carl Goudy on a big
valve Excelsior managed to eck out third place. One rival spat: “Harley-Davidson,
first and second, is something we are getting sick of hearing.”
If 1914 had been Milwaukee’s introduction to long distance dirt track racing, and
1915 the initial success, 1916 would be the showdown. Like gunfighters facing off
at high noon on a dusty frontier street, the 1916 race was the final drama in this
world of pre-World War One motorcycle competition. Few, however, dreamed the winner
would be a fresh-faced, smiling lad from Milwaukee.
Irving Janke was born in that
city in 1896. At an early age he caught the motorcycle bug. First he rode for the
post office and later as delivery boy for Schuster’s department store. Later, in
the 1920s, he was a Milwaukee motorcycle cop. As a teenager Janke often landed on
the wrong side of the law. Arrested seven times for speeding, one Milwaukee officer
told the judge, “A millionaire couldn’t pay his fines. He’s...the most reckless motorcyclist
in the city.”
Then fate took a hand. Janke’s boss at Schuster’s was an ardent racing fan. He noticed
the youngster’s ability and in 1912 encouraged him to try racing. Janke’s success
on local tracks drew the attention of Harley-Davidson’s Hugh Sharp, who saw a potential
home-town hero -- but one riding an Indian!
Overnight, Janke was hired by the Harley factory as a test rider. Young, handsome,
and always neatly dressed, Janke appeared in serveral company advertisements, including
one with Arthur Davidson’s wife and daughter. He was given a racing machine, expenses,
and became a factory-sponsored rider. Only eighteen, the older racers nicknamed him
“the youngster.” Janke’s reputation quickly grew. One paper called him, “the local
speed wizard who has had a phenomenal rise in the motorcycle...world.”
In 1914, Janke took part in Harley-Davidson’s first official team effort at Savannah,
Georgia. He placed 3rd in the big 300-miler. Janke wired home: FINISHED THIRD NO
ACCIDENT AM WELL IRVING.
Janke’s widowed mother afterwards remarked, “I was worried because this is the first
time Irving has ever been so far away from home...” She had reason to worry. During
the Savannah race two riders were killed outright on the track.
In early 1916, Janke was assigned a new Harley-Davidson “eight-valve” 
racer. This was Milwaukee’s secret weapon introduced the
previous September in Chicago where Otto Walker turned a lap at 93.5 mph and nailed
a new 100-mile record at 89.11 mph.
The eight-valve was Milwaukee’s first non-production racing engine. Early versions
had a special head-cylinder with four pushrod-operated valves, but used the standard
pocket-valve bottom end. This would later evolve into the famous “two-cam” bottom.
The Harley eight-valve combustion chamber was of pent-roof design, and was more efficient
than the flat-top style found in production OHVs like the Pope and Jefferson motorcycles,
or in Indian’s older eight-valve racer.
That spring, Janke cleaned up on Milwaukee-area tracks with the eight-valve. But
Dodge City was the big event, and by June, Milwaukee was abuzz with excitement. One
paper noted, “Every motor cycle factory is straining its best efforts to place on
the...Dodge (track) the fastest two-wheeler in its production.”
Although a hometown favorite, Janke was not originally scheduled for Dodge City.
He was only added after Otto Walker was injured on the Chicago speedway. Janke had
yet to win a long distance race, and it was believed that previous Dodge City events
had wrung all the speed the famous dirt track would allow. As a result, the 1916
competition would be desperate and bitter.
Much had changed in the world since the first Dodge City race in 1914. War had broken
out in Europe, and by 1916 American isolationism had slipped in favor of England
and France. Because Milwaukee was heavily ethnic German, that city had been slow
to jump on the patriotic bandwagon. So slow in fact, that some had branded Milwaukee
as subversive. In spite of Arthur Davidson’s trip to England in early 1915 on the
Luisitania to open a “London Branch” -- missing by a few weeks that ship’s torpedoing
off the Irish Coast -- Harley-Davidson may have endured a few anti-patriotic slurs.
For years the Harley-Davidson motorcycle had worn gray paint, and the name “silent gray fellow” was known to every
motorcyclist. By 1916, that had been shortened to just “gray fellow,” but that name
may have been a too close for comfort to the “field gray” that described the uniforms
of the Kaiser’s army. One suspects that Milwaukee’s dropping the color gray in 1917
for the more patriotic “olive drab” was due to suspicions of mixed loyalty.
Perhaps for those reasons, more American flags were seen at Dodge City in 1916 than
ever before. Yet the traditional carnival atmosphere remained, with vendors hawking
peanuts, candy, and colorful balloons for the children. This was the biggest Dodge
City event yet. Twenty-thousand spectators packed the stands, with the racers’ wives
seated in a reserved section. Autos lined the south side of the track.
Another change was the presence of only three motorcycle factories. This starkly
portrayed the melt-down of the American motorcycle industry. Rising labor and material
costs due to the war in Europe, along with a shortage of component parts, spelled
doom for the smaller motorcycle builders. Of the 21 starters, six were Indian mounted,
seven rode Excelsiors, and eight were on Harley-Davidsons. Three Harleys were eight-valve
racers. These were ridden by Janke, Floyd Clymer, and Clarence Johnston.
Milwaukee’s racing success in 1915 and the appearance of the Harley eight-valve had
riled the competition. Word had gotten around, however, that the eight-valve was
vulnerable to dust, and that if you
could get ahead and kick up some dirt, they would sputter and slow down. Floyd Clymer,
another replacement on the Harley team, had looked longingly at the new-fangled eight-valves,
but didn’t think he’d get to ride one. The veteran riders, however, thought the pocket-valve
was still a better bet on the “long grind,” and Bill Ottaway assigned Clymer an eight-valve.
“I climbed on,” Clymer later said, “and what a bunch of dynamite I had under me.”
Just before 11 o’clock, the machines were wheeled onto the track. Five abreast, they
were led around the speedway by a auto in a rolling start. One observer described
it as a “wolf-pack in a steer-drive.” As they approached the starting line, the pace
auto dropped away, the riders closed ranks, and the flag dropped. The famous Cowboy
Band struck up a tune and the crowd cheered their favorites as the third Great Plains
Classic roared to life.
Flashing past the timers’ stand, the racers surged forward. Don Johns on an eight-valve
Indian jumped the pack and some thought he would repeat his sizzling early performance
of 1915. But on the second go-around Floyd Clymer passed Johns. He would hold this
lead until the 53rd lap, during which he would break the track’s previous 100-mile
record and earn $100 for his effort. It was a typical Kansas summer day: bright sun
and a temperature pushing 100 degrees. A breeze kept flags snapping and the spectators
comfortable, but slowed the racers as they turned into the wind.
One feature of the 1916 race were the colorful 
jerseys worn by the Harley-Davidson team. The color variations were useful
when identifying riders on the back stretch from the Harley-Davidson tower -- or
“periscope” as some were calling it. At noon, whistles blew in nearby Dodge City
and spectators opened lunches or visited hot dog stands. One inexperienced race-goer
inquired, “Don’t the riders stop for dinner?”
But there were no such luxury. The only stops were for fuel or repairs. This was
a race of speed and endurance. As long as the machines ran, the riders suffered in
silence. The race would continue until the final “century” had been conquered. Inevitably,
the combination of heat and mechanical failure took their toll. Excelsior star Bob
Perry was the first out in the jinxed 13th lap with a broken valve. Harley rider
Harry Brandt couldn’t take the strain and quit in the 29th. Johnston’s eight-valve
sputtered to a halt in the 35th. Excelsior mounted Stokes dropped out in the 38th.
At the 100-mile mark, Janke was 36 seconds behind Clymer. At 150 miles -- the half-way
point -- Janke and Clymer were running dead even. For the next 50 miles blue-and-red
garbed Janke and black-and-gold Clymer jousted for the lead. First one, then the
other pulled ahead, their identical eight-valves equal in speed as well. The rest
trailed behind.
How unlikely a scene at this normally sleepy western city. Motorcycles battling for
racing supremacy where a few
years earlier frontier struggles had taken place. A last hint of times past could
be seen in the dozing deputy sheriff, a double-barrel shotgun hanging over his knee,
spitting tobacco juice on a hot Ford radiator, oblivious to the race.
More machines fell by the wayside. “Red” Armstrong (Indian) dropped out in the 70th
lap. Paul Gott (H-D) suffered a spill in the 77th. Johns (Indian) broke a valve in
the 79th. Crandall (H-D) quit in the 88th. Correnti (H-D) in the 91st. At the 200-mile
mark, Janke finished the “double-century” three minutes and 23 seconds ahead of Clymer,
who had stopped for a new tire. Clymer regained the lead while Janke was refueling.
But then luck deserted the Colorado man. At 218 miles Clymer’s machine broke a valve,
thus ending his chance for glory.
From then on it was Janke’s race. The only threat came from veteran rider Joe Wolter
on a big valve Ex, who hung in Janke’s suction trail and hoped to sprint past him.
But even this old trick didn’t work. Every time Wolter drew near, the youngster easily
pulled away. No motorcycle remaining on the famous track that day could touch him.
Over the last punishing hundred miles Janke led the survivors -- a mere seven out
of the original 21. They
crossed the finish in this order: Janke, (H-D); Wolter, (Ex); Weishaar, (H-D); Warner,
(Indian); Walker, (Ind); Graves, (Indian); and Boido (Ex). Janke made the 300 miles
in 3 hours, 45 minutes, and 36 seconds, with an average speed of 79.79 mph. He finished
2:17 ahead of Wolter and 10:17 in front of 3rd place Ray Weishaar. He shaved 10 minutes
9 seconds off the previous year’s record set by Otto Walker.
When Janke found his legs again, the new champion climbed the pedestal and took the
princely sum of $800 for his first place finish and $200 for the 200-mile record.
Newspapers around the country reported on “Yank” and his smile. The play of words
on his name appears to be another hint of the Milwaukee-based company’s desire for
patriotism. Janke also received a gold award that remains in the Janke family to
this day.
If Excelsior was satisfied with Wolter’s second place, it was a
numbing defeat for Indian, whose best showing was “Spec” Warner’s 4th place finish.
This from a company whose racing machines had once seemed invincible.
The 1916 Dodge City race was the first smashing victory for Harley-Davidson’s eight-valve
racer. After years of bragging about stock engines, Milwaukee had now deployed a
race engine radically different from their standard production motors. After the
race, however, some observers commented upon this seeming hypocrisy. Janke defended
the “special model” by saying, “Why not have eight valves?...you don’t see...old...nags
in (horse racing.)”
At once plans were made for the 1917 Dodge City Classic, but it was not to be. The
United States entry into the European war ended racing at Dodge City until 1920,
at which time the late Jim Davis rode the Harley-Davidson to another victory. But
by then the issue was no longer in doubt. So long as Harley-Davidson fielded a professional
racing team -- the original “wrecking crew” --Harley-Davidson reigned supreme on
the long grind.
So maybe the early emphasis on endurance runs wasn’t so wrong-headed after all. Because
once Milwaukee added speed to their brew, the combination proved unbeatable. Maybe
Harley-Davidson had been planning for this moment all along.