Johnson Rides Into the Sunset of One Career : Racing: At 26, he bids San Diego motocross fans farewell on Saturday.

Rick Johnson is a Southern California legend for what he has accomplished on two wheels and a few acres of rolling dirt.

Motocross has left Johnson old and battered at 26. So he is retiring after this season. He’s going around one more time to show the fans that he still has it, and if he doesn’t, he won’t be bothered down the road wondering, “What if?”

Johnson takes his final professional motocross ride in San Diego for Team Honda on Saturday at Jack Murphy Stadium in the Coors Light Challenge, the fifth stop on the 17-race 1991 Camel Supercross Series.

The San Diego native moved to Encinitas from El Cajon two months ago. He has a two-month old marriage and a new career awaiting him. Life could be worse for the man who has won seven National Motocross Championships, two Camel Supercross Championships and a record 28 series victories.

“It’s time to spend time with my family,” Johnson said. “I was looking at retiring last year and moving into auto racing, and (wife Stephanie) and I talked about it. She said that if I didn’t give it all I had, that 10 years down the road I would be sorry, that if I walked away one year too soon, there would always be a question of whether I could have won or wondered how it would have turned out. Now, I’ll know.”

There wouldn’t be any question in anyone’s mind--least of all Johnson’s--had he not had his right wrist destroyed in an accident during practice for the 1989 250 Outdoor National Championship in Gainesville, Fla. Johnson had won the first five races of the season when Danny Storeback’s front tire hit Johnson’s elbow. The force bent Johnson’s hand backward, all the way back to his arm.

“I knew by the appearance of it that I broke my arm or dislocated my wrist or something,” Johnson said. “I knew it was pretty severe.”

The wrist was broken and dislocated, and the tendons were torn. The cartilage soon wore away because of bone rubbing against bone, contributing to his limited range of motion is restricted. Even worse, the injury was to his right hand, which controls the throttle and the front brake.

“What hurt worse was that the doctor said it would be eight months before it healed,” Johnson recalled.

Before the accident, he wore No. 1, representing the sport’s top driver. When he returned, he had been assigned No. 13. Some symbolism. His comeback in 1990 featured a victory in Gainesville, Fla., but the following weekend, in Daytona Beach, he had another crash. There were two more broken bones in the wrist, six more months of inactivity and now, the farewell tour.

“I’ve had a very good career as far as winning races and championships go, and I’ve tried to be the total athlete--be good with the newspapers, the kids, the fans--but when you’re still racing, the only thought that sticks out in your mind is how you’ve done the week before,” Johnson said. “Right now, that’s not too well.”

This is the fifth race of the season. So far, he’s finished 10th twice, 11th once, and one time did not finish.

“That’s real difficult for someone who’s done so well in the past,” he continued. “In years before, I dominated in the sport. I knew that if there wasn’t a major problem, I would win. Now, I’m riding in the middle of the pack and it’s hard to take.

“My whole reason for racing this year is to get back on top so I can go out on top.”

He also wanted to come back one more time for those who have supported him over the years.

“I felt I owed it to the fans to say goodby,” Johnson said. “If I just quit at the end of the season, it would have left a lot of people with questions of why. This gives them a chance to see, or hear, why.”

The injury is the major reason. He is already arthritic in the right hand. It also gives him an excuse for moving into a less-strenuous activity.

“I feel it’s best for me at this point in my life,” he said. “I wanted to pursue an auto racing career since I was a young boy. It’s a now-or-never situation. In motocross, I’m not capable of riding and training the way I want to.”

The training for motocross is constant. Riders must constantly build their bodies up to withstand the pounding that riding 250cc motorcycles over one bump after another--and a few sky jumps in between--has to offer.

Unlike auto racing.

“You train pretty much because you like to (for auto racing), not because you have to,” Johnson said. “I’m hoping to start in Mickey Thompson off-road racing, then move to some form of asphalt racing. I really don’t have a path yet, I just need to get in four wheels. I’m starting back at the bottom again, which is kind of fun. I like the challenge.

“In motocross, maybe you reach 60, 70 m.p.h., tops. In a stadium race, maybe 30. I think it will be fun to go 100 m.p.h. in places, gauge the friction between the road and the tires, set up the car and the suspension and the motor. It will be whole new learning process for me.”

But there’s still some unfinished business.

“All the races are important because it’s the last time I race motocross in that part of the country, (but) this one has more importance because it’s in my hometown,” Johnson said. “I would like to be able to ride to my potential and show the San Diego fans that I’m not giving up and I’m trying as hard as I can, but I have to be realistic. If I can get a top five finish and a strong ride, I’ll be satisfied. But I’m going to try to win. If I can win, I’m going for it.”

Johnson has been going for it since he was 9 and finished last in his debut. He turned pro at 16 and was so caught up in racing that he didn’t return to Valhalla High his senior year. Instead, he was the envy of his teachers, making $30,000 that season, his first on the pro circuit.

Motorcycling has good to Rick Johnson: It has allowed him an opportunity to settle down at his leisure and do what he wants.

“I’m grown up now and I still haven’t had a chance to relax,” Johnson said. “I feel I can slow some things down and enjoy my new wife, house and dog.”