CHUCK CASTON RACING part one
Ask any one who has met him or dealt with him, Chuck Caston is a hard man to describe. See one side of him and miss another completely different person all together.
Think you have established a relationship with him and the next day he has skipped out of your life without ever letting you know or giving you reason.
Caston, as I call him, was an excellent boss. He praised you, with thank yous when you did it right and let you know when you did it wrong, by showing you the right way.
He was an excellent friend if he wanted you to be. He kept a lot to himself. If you wanted to know more you had to dig it out from others, he wouldn't tell you.
Born in Texas in 1936, he still looks the same as when I first met him in 1976. Like a youthful thirty year old. Short blond hair, cut 'dutch boy' style. Massive arms from years of twisting together cast iron plumbing pipe. The hard life, cigars and trouble making has suited him well.
I saw him the other day, he still looks 30, even though he was celebrating his 71st birthday by buying himself a Kawasaki ZX-14. Motorcycling for all these years has kept him young, or at least young looking.
Everyone who knows pieces of my relationship with Chuck will understand that I mean this with respect, he can be 'a caustic asshole'. That is how I best describe the man.
We raced together for seven years, on both a local level and in the national arena. I worked for him for several of those years and was a “friend” for eleven years. The best and most meticulous mechanic I've ever seen. I was hesitant to race without his hands on the wrenches, because I felt that my performance was being shorted by not having his expertise by my side.
Some have said I could have gotten a full deal to ride for one of the big teams, but they were afraid Chuck would tag along. I tell them that I would not have gained the success I did, had it not been for Chuck.
Wouldn't trade it for any other experience. Learned more about life and human nature from Chuck and my friend 'the Roundman' than from all the teachers and do gooders I've ever run across.
He will 'write you out of the book' if you cross him. That means he will completely ignore you if he feels you've done him wrong. Even to the point of talking right through you if you happen to wander into a conversation. You don't exist.
That works for me.
But, to justify his disassociation with the offender he will even go so far as to tell people that you died in a car crash, just so he won't have to talk about you again.
Makes it tough when people realize that the cast off is still alive.
That doesn't work for me.
So instead of going on about his foibles or making this sound too flowery, I will just impart some 'Chuckisms' that I retained during the decade plus that I was associated with him.
“John Paul learned the art of handling men at an early age.”
“Get down here and work on these motorcycles.”
we going to do this all the way to California?”
“I like to start the day off with a good beating.”
“Aye, beat me while I beat myself.”
“You don't have to tell anyone when you run a good number, they will tell you.”
“Don't eat doo-doo.”
“This is a race track, not a wrench track.”
“How are you fixed for socks and underwear?”
“That's the way we do it in the club.”
“32 degrees timing, is 32 degrees timing, always has been, always will be.”
So if you ever run into Charles Wesley Caston(not the Black-American CW Caston, but the blonde haired, cigar chewing, coke drinking, waste and drain pipe installing, owner of CCR Racing, Texan)or myself and wonder the meaning of such ramblings, just ask one of us to explain.
He won't explain, I will.
more about CW, in my book, titled,