Six motorcycle racing legends, one table and a story—stories—from long ago.

Dave Faries here, noting that it can be difficult to keep all the details straight in retelling a memory from more than 30 years ago. But thanks to an unprecedented gathering recently, I was able to confirm the story—while listening to the tales of six motorsports legends.

Even those only casually aware of motorcycle grand prix racing have probably heard of Kenny Roberts, Fast Freddie Spencer, Steady Eddie Lawson, Wayne Rainey, Kevin Schwantz and Kenny Roberts Jr. From 1978, when Roberts became the first American 500cc world champion through 1993, when Schwantz claimed the crown, the first five riders I named won 13 of 16 titles. Roberts Jr. became the last American 500cc world champion in 2000. (In 2002, MotoGP became the top global road racing class; the late Nicky Hayden is the only American champion so far, winning the 2006 campaign.)

American riders seemingly came out of nowhere, dominated the grand prix world championship and then virtually disappeared.

The organizers of Rolex Monterey Motorsports Reunion brought all six 500cc champions together at WeatherTech Raceway Laguna Seca for a ceremonial ride on their historic bikes, an autograph session and a panel discussion for the fans. It had been more than 20 years since the six last got together.

They had one other task, and that was to meet at the track’s media center on Saturday, Aug. 15. I thought that I was attending a press conference with the riders where I might squeeze in one, possibly two questions—one of which was definitely going to be directed at Fast Freddie, based on that oft-repeated memory. Instead, Laguna Seca’s media reps pointed me to a reserved table with seven spaces. To say I was caught off guard—well, Lawson arrived early and grabbed a seat, but I told him, “I think this is reserved.” He shrugged and went to a corner.

Yes, I had told a four-time world champion to find another seat. Hey, it had been a few decades since I had seen him, and he was on television, wearing a helmet and racing suit. “You’ll have a story to tell,” he says to me later, rejoining the table as the others arrive.

But there was a story I had told over the years, usually in response to people insisting on greater use of computer technology in grade school classrooms. Sometime in the early 1990s I came home from my late-night radio shift and turned on the television. Spencer was being interviewed on whatever show I found, explaining how early in his racing career he was a privateer—a rider on a team without support from a motorcycle manufacturer. In order to keep up with factory-supported riders, he had to test the edges of weight transfer, figure out better entry and exit points at each corner and so on. When finally given a factory ride, Roberts told the interviewer, he was immediately quicker than the others. “They had relied on the technology,” Roberts said 30-some years ago. “I had learned.”

Did I remember this right? It was late and I was probably tired at the time. And many years have passed since. Was it even Roberts on the screen?

Indeed it was, at least according to Fast Freddie himself. That settled, I could kick back in this rather historic moment and listen to six legends tell stories, which I’ve tried to relate in this week’s edition of the Weekly.

“That’s what helped me,” the great Fast Freddie tells me. Then, gesturing at Roberts, he adds, “Watching this guy.”