Joe Coulter

Track Control | Instructor

Long, long ago, in a land far, far away, there lived a young boy whose brain, brawn and athletic prowess were the talk of the land. This boy’s name was Carl. Our story is not about him though, I just wanted to mention that he was there. No, our story revolves around a slightly less gifted individual, many of whom mistook for being “touched” or possibly even brain dead. Yes, this is the story of Jo.. or Joe… well, someone.

From the early days of Joe’s life, Joe had a love of motorcycles that no one could explain. Not even Joe, though he mumbled quite excitedly every time he saw one. Joe’s father had a small Honda Trail 90 with a small rack on the back that Joe would be strapped to as the his father would race up and down the old dirt driveway that led to the double-wide trailer that they called home. All was well and right with the world until the day that the little bike began to stutter as it ran. Joe’s father, whom was none too bright himself, decided that an engine rebuild was in order and soon the little motor was in pieces. Upon completion of the rebuild process, there were parts remaining that had previously been a part of the motor, but this did not faze the father in the least. No, this was lightening of the motorcycle, which could only lead to it being even faster than it was before. Overflowing with confidence, Joe’s father kicked at the kick start over and over, but alas, the little motor would start no more. Apparently there was something to those remaining parts of the motor, but try as he might to revive it, the little bike was dead.

You may think that this would be the end of our story, in fact at this point; you may wish that it were, but it is not. For Joe’s love of motorcycles did not stop just because there was no longer any bike for him to ride, but it continued to develop and grow until at the tender age of 19, Joe uttered his first word… sausage. That has nothing to do with our story, but although he grew up around a number of people that had motorcycles, Joe did not get his own until 19 years old when he returned from 18 months in Okinawa, Japan with the Marine Corps; his pockets bursting with cash and his brain as dim as ever.

Although Joe had ridden a dirtbike only a handful of times, he set out to get his license and buy himself one of them Ninjas that he had heard so much about. After passing the multiple guess permitting process, he quickly found a 1986 Ninja 600 in glorious Red, White and Blue and paid top dollar for it. Thanks to a half blind licensing agent, Joe managed to pass the riding test and was awarded his license and spent an incredible three months on his beloved Ninja before totaling it on a dust swept section of Southern California roadway and spending three days in a coma.

Again you may think this to be the end of our story, but proving once again how few marbles were rolling around in his head, the story of Joe continues. He left the Marine Corps, found a pretty young bride, had a few kids and got a job that rewarded his special type of idiocy and before long, or ten years, he had once again raised enough money to buy a salvaged 2001 Triumph TT600. Now, being slow, but not completely stupid, Joe decided to actually learn to ride and learned all about “gear” and “safety.” He rode the TT600 religiously and commuted on it for nearly three years, racking up nearly 20,000 miles on without incident. At some point, one of his friends thought it would be fun to attend a “trackday” at Spokane, to which Joe readily agreed. Joe promptly crashed his TT600 at said trackday, but this did not deter Joe in the least. He bandaged up the trusty steed and signed up for another trackday (which was completed without incident due to some fluke) and then another. (whereupon he crashed again)

Eventually, Joe was introduced to Brian Orton and Mark DeGross, who had decided to start a little thing called 2Fast and after a rigorous interview where Joe was forced to defend his less than stellar track record, it was decided that Joe could join the team, which he proudly did in the winter of 2003, before 2Fast began their inaugural season.

Joe has been with the team ever since, eventually moving up the chain from “tolerable annoyance” to “track sweeper,” past “corner monkey,” onto “flag dragger”, “corner worker”, “track marshal,” eventually winding up with the prestigious title of “Track Control.” One might assume that this means there is some amount of control, or prestige, but in actuality it means that he was the only one that could be found that would willingly stand on the outside of turn 9 while motorcycles fly past at ludicrous speed. You will find Joe there, on-track riding his 2002 SV650, or perhaps meandering through the pits during all of the 2Fast events. He doesn’t normally bite, so feel free to say ‘Hi’.