Faussett Wants To Test Motorcycling's Limits -- He Feels Safer Racing 130 Mph Than Riding On The Street

Adam Faussett spends 50-hour work weeks managing the service department of a motorcycle shop and long nights servicing his own bike, a built-to-roar, 750-cubic-centimeter Suzuki GSXR.

That leaves him with weekends to race and lunch breaks to sleep.

So it's a little surprising to see him at work, clear-eyed and alert, answering phones, setting up appointments.

But what's even more surprising is that he is in one piece. You'll find him most days behind the counter at the Seattle Cycle Center.

Need your bike fixed? He's the man to talk to. Shake his hand. It's all there. No twisted fingers, mangled knuckles.

In fact, everything is in the right place. No protrusions, no awkward bends or funny limps. Not even a blemish.

Faussett, 23, does not look like a man who has survived a dozen high-speed motorcycle crashes. Two of them occurred at speeds exceeding 130 miles per hour. He has walked away from all of them, without even a superficial injury.

"It's safer than riding on the streets," Faussett said. "You don't have to be crazy to be good. You have to try the best you can.

"I like racing. I like motorcycles. And I love going fast. I love taking things to the limit, seeing what I can do with the bike."

Faussett, who lives in Bothell, is in the middle of his second season as a professional motorcycle racer. He doesn't make an outstanding living at it yet, but he has enough people behind him who believe he can compete at a national level.

"He's the brightest young rider I've seen in this region in 20 years of watching road racing," said Mark Pfenning, manager of the Seattle Cycle Center. "We've had a number of class champions work in the shop, so we've had good success picking out rising stars in the area, but we haven't seen someone like Adam who has the potential to go national or even international."

Pfenning is personally funding Faussett's next season and is helping Faussett secure sponsorship money.

In just his first season of racing, Faussett established himself as one of the top five cyclists in the region. He was one of five racers from the Northwest to qualify for the Suzuki National Cup, held in Atlanta. He finished 27th out of 50 entrants, despite losing third gear in the middle of the race.

Faussett estimated he won $2,500 last season, but put about $20,000 into the sport. A jump to the national circuit involves even more money.

Faussett currently races road-course events at the Seattle International Raceway and the Portland International Raceway. He won one event last year, but has yet to win a road race this season. In June, he finished second in his class, third in the next class up (for modified 750 cc bikes). In May, he and two other cyclists won a six-hour endurance race at SIR.

Technology is catching up Faussett, who races a 1988 model. The 1991 models, he said, are built to run faster. A new race-ready motorcycle would cost him $10,000.

Faussett, who went to Juanita High School, has always raced something. When he was 12, he raced motocross bicycles. It was motocross that caused his only injury, a broken wrist.

When he got old enough, he drag raced his Ford Fiesta. Later, he dragged his Volkswagen GTI Rabbit. He dreams of someday racing Indy cars.

His first motorcycle was a 175 cc dirt bike his father gave him when Faussett was 15. He took motorcycle racing seriously when he got tired of drag racing.

He supplements his speed habit by skiing, snowboarding, sky diving and bungee-cord jumping.

"He's fearless on the race course," said his mechanic, Jim McFadden. "He thinks he's invincible."

The danger is undeniable in Faussett's sport. Riders have been paralyzed and killed. One racer died at PIR last season competing in the same race as Faussett.

"You know it's there, and you know it can happen, but you always think if it does it's not going to happen to you," Faussett said.

Riders wear full leather body suits, padded at vulnerable spots. They also wear hard plastic spine protectors, which make high-speed slides easier.

In one of Faussett's high-speed crashes, he slid about 200 feet before coming to rest.

"I just kept flipping over when one side of my body would get too hot (from the friction)," Faussett said.

Meanwhile, he watched his bike do cartwheels. That crash involved just two bikes, which were going too fast into a turn.

Faussett's next high-speed crash was a little scarier. It involved about 10 bikes. One bike lost contact with the track, and started a chain-reaction spill.

Faussett's leg got stuck on his bike, which dragged him into the grass. Because the crash occured in heavy traffic, Faussett had to dodge several bikes before he was in the clear. Everybody involved in that accident walked away.

"The danger comes from getting hit by another bike," Faussett said. "Most of the time, I feel like it's a safe sport. But weird things can happen.

"It's just so much of a thrill. It's hard to stop racing."