Atlantic Motorsport Park reflections

John Hopkins is a public school French teacher in the greater Belleville area.  Prior to his new life in the witness protection program, Hopkins was the Editor of “Inside Motorcycles” and the Media Manager for the CSBK National motorcycle roadracing Championship tour.  He attended the Atlantic Motorsport Park National event last July, and finally got around to providing his musings.


My biggest concern as I drew closer to Atlantic Motorsport Park for last July’s Canadian Superbike national was making sure I didn’t get lost. True, the modern marvels of GPS now make that an extremely unlikely situation, but I was looking forward to seeing how much of the meandering route I could recall once I left the security of Highway 102, the main artery between Halifax and Truro.

On my first visit to the track, back in 1997, there was a certain navigational skill required to successfully reach AMP. As with any rural travel, one relied more on landmarks than the names of streets or highways – the gas bar just off the highway, the school on the left, the church over the hill, and of course the big barn that looms almost out of nowhere on the final hill, where you turn right onto the last dirt road that leads to the entrance to the track.

I was impressed to find that, despite being away for several years, my recollection of the route to the track was intact and all those familiar landmarks were still standing. Perhaps there is some constancy in this world of seemingly perpetual change.

As I no longer draw any income from the national Superbike series I am now allowed to say that AMP was always my favourite stop on the Canadian tour. I appreciated the state-of-the-art facilities at Canadian Tire Motorsport Park, the sightlines of Shannonville Motorsport Park, the enthusiasm of the crowd at Autodrome St-Eustache, and the layout of Race City Speedway in Calgary. But nothing seemed to capture the essence of Canadian motorsport like AMP.

Mine is by no means a universal opinion. There are those who likely feel the exact opposite. For a racer the track is tight, bumpy and very exacting on both the human body and the motorcycle, and I must admit that not having had to actually race on the track may give me a more positive impression.

Unlike many modern motorsports facilities AMP is not conveniently located, as mentioned above, the facilities are simple, although they have improved over the years, and it can be a miserable place to be in extreme heat or pounding rain, both of which I have experienced on several occasions.

But if, like me, you were raised on visits to Mosport Park (as CTMP was originally known) or Watkins Glen in upstate New York, AMP is about as authentic as it comes. And it is worth noting that both Mosport and Watkins Glen hosted Formula 1 World Championship events in their heyday of the 1960s and ‘70s.

You don’t go to AMP because you want to be pampered, be seen by the right people or to rub shoulders with pop culture royalty. You go because you love racing, or at least love the atmosphere around racing, and to me that made the venue the best place to enjoy a racing weekend. I always loved watching the campers stream into the infield from the start of action on Friday to the climactic Sunday race day as the population of the track swelled. More and more campers, tents, scaffolding, flags and signs. The influx of fans built to a crescendo and it was hard not to get caught up in the enthusiasm.

My early visits to the Nova Scotia track coincided with the heyday of local racer Don Munroe’s career, and that only made the atmosphere even more electric. I don’t know if anyone embraces a hometown hero more than a Maritimer, and the fans flocked to AMP expecting to see another Munroe victory, and they were seldom disappointed. And in the years after Don’s retirement, there was always the hope that another racer would step into his large boots and add to the east coast legacy. No one managed it (could anyone, really?) but that failed to diminish the hopes and expectations of the crowd each summer. And local track knowledge being what it is, there always seemed to be someone able to spring a one-off surprise. Racers like Jeremy Burgess, Brian Blaauwendraat, Austin Shaw-O’Leary or Adam Roberts always gave the crowd some hope of local glory.

Even if there wasn’t a resident hero to cheer on, the fans were almost always guaranteed close, competitive racing. The tight, narrow track makes it difficult for anyone to break away from a pack, and it was not unusual to see races settle down into multi-bike battles to be resolved by the skill and bravery of one rider on the final lap. In 2008 Jordan Szoke beat Clint McBain in the Pro Superbike feature by 0.055 secs., and that wasn’t even the closest ever finish in the track’s history. In 2013 Jodi Christie won the Pro Superbike feature from Szoke by 0.036 secs., and the following year by 0.109 secs. Races at AMP weren’t won by superior equipment or set-up skill - they were won on pure guts, and that likely only added to the fascination and enjoyment of the local crowds.

I don’t think I’m the only one to enjoy the idiosyncrasies of AMP as a motorcycle racing fan. It always seemed that was the place where I would run into enthusiasts from other parts of the country, or even the northeastern United States, who recognized the track as a little slice of something different. In England they refer to the diehards who stand out in the rain at Silverstone in March as “anoraks” (an anorak is a rain coat). Motorcycle racing at AMP brought together the “anoraks” of the North American motorcycle racing scene.

Last summer, 25 years on from my first visit to AMP, I found much had changed. The crazy Saturday night parties are gone, and that is probably a good thing, to be honest. Improvements in trackside barriers have made the circuit much safer, definitely a good thing. There is more pavement in the paddock, better internet and a number of building improvements, which are all good things.

But there were still a number of things that felt the same. There was still that friendly atmosphere that always made me feel welcome, the numerous visitors from outside the area, the close racing. And there was still that big barn where you turn right and drive down a dirt road to enter one of the most interesting sports venues in Canada. Long may it stay that way.