Since retiring from full-time racing, Larry Pegram has shifted his focus to supporting his daughter Riley’s burgeoning racing career. At just 19 years old, Riley has been racing karts and cars practically since she could walk. Now, as the fourth generation of Pegrams to take up the racing mantle, she’s continuing a family tradition that dates back to the early days of motorcycles and cars.

Currently, Riley and her dad are competing in the IMSA Michelin Pilot Challenge endurance series, driving an Audi RS3 LMS. Last year, Riley took on the Porsche Sprint Challenge in a Cayman solo, showcasing her skills on the track. This year, they’ve decided to race together, strengthening the bond between father and daughter through their shared passion.

Amidst these racing commitments and his various business ventures, Larry Pegram (51) doesn’t have much time to race himself. Over the years, he’s done a few partial seasons in the AFT dirt track series, thanks to a good relationship with the team at Indian, which provided him with a bike for selected rounds. Despite just showing up at a few events, Larry managed to perform admirably, proving he still had what it takes to compete. However, this year, he could only fit in two MotoAmerica rounds—Laguna Seca and Mid-Ohio.

Reflecting on his limited racing schedule, Larry explained, “This year, I hooked up with this team (TopPro Racing), and we decided that we’d do two races—Laguna Seca and Mid-Ohio. I wasn’t real happy with the way that Laguna Seca went; we had some mapping issues, and it just didn’t go very well. I left Laguna maybe thinking I am getting too old.”

Despite his disappointment at Laguna Seca, Larry’s outlook changed at Mid-Ohio. “We did the Thursday practice day, and the weekend really rolled well for us,” he recounted. “I qualified eighth, so I was thinking, you know, maybe top five in the dry.”
However, the unpredictable weather had other plans. “Problem was, it wasn’t dry on Saturday. It was dry, then wet, then they dried the track, and after the big crash, they started us in wet and dry conditions. It was the usual big gamble—go with wets or dry tires; everybody made their choices.”

Larry’s thoughts on the changing conditions revealed his self-assessment as a cautious rider in the rain. “In my mind, I am really not a great rain rider at all. I always feel like I am slow in the rain because I don’t like to take risks, and honestly, if you ask me to describe my rain riding, I’d say it is ‘timid.’”

Yet, despite his self-doubt, something surprising happened. “The crazy thing is I was fast in the wet!” Larry exclaimed, still sounding slightly incredulous. “I mean, I thought they might have red-flagged the race when I was leading, and I just didn’t catch it. Then I saw Scholtz and PJ coming, and I knew they had made the correct tire choice, and there was no way I could win the race. Which was fine; I was hoping for a podium. They came by me, and I just defended from there, trying to get to the end of the race with a podium spot.”

“Before the race Wayne Rainey was right on the grid and he was talking with some riders there about what to do. I walked up and kind of loud said “Hey Wayne, when did MotoAmerica turn into a bunch of pussies who won’t race in the rain?”. It was pretty funny. I guess some of the other riders were kind of miffed or whatever.”

As he recounted the race, Larry’s mind drifted to his competitors and their thoughts on the conditions. “I was surprised how slow the riders were; some of them didn’t think we should have been racing in the rain, but hell, they have no idea how bad that place (Mid-Ohio) was back when we raced there in the old days. In the wet, with all the different kinds of pavement, the sealer, and then the cement patches. The new Mid-Ohio by comparison, okay, it wasn’t Assen, but it was not bad at all. The old track, as we all remember, was basically unridable in the wet.”

When a guy has been racing for 45 years, he learns a thing or two. Pegram explains, “On the grid I was doing the racer thing and looking at every bike and noting what they had chosen for tires--wets or slicks. I looked at every one, made note of the number, and which way they’d gone. That helped because once the rest of the riders started to catch me I was looking back and trying to see their numbers and remember which way they went on tires.”

Reflecting on the race and his cautious approach, Larry shared his thoughts on what could have been. “You know, maybe I could have finished second, but that would have really needed to take some risks, and I was thinking, are those risks really worth it for second instead of third? I can tell you when I was leading and even when I was in third, if you looked at my face in the middle of the corners, I had the biggest grin on my face.”

The race wasn’t just a personal victory for Larry; it was also a special moment for his family. “My parents were there, my wife and my daughter—they were watching this play out. I could not stop smiling! My one daughter is a teenager now, and anybody who has teenagers knows there are not a lot of days your daughter is super proud of her dad, but she was.”

Since the Trackhouse MotoGP team chose a Japanese rider for their team in 2025, some have begun to question what has happened to young American riders. It seems they no longer have what it takes to compete at the world championship level in nearly any series. Larry Pegram, who once raced against legends like Ben Spies, Mat Mladin, and other greats, has a unique perspective on this issue. Having beaten Mladin at Road America on a Superbike, Pegram's insights carry weight.

Curious about his thoughts, I asked him directly: What has happened to the American rider?

Pegram’s response was rooted in his own experiences. “Well, to answer your question, I just need to start with my own experience,” he began, reflecting on his early days in racing. “When I was 14, I was probably the fastest 14-year-old in the country. And I wanted to be faster, so I rode with the fastest guys I could find. I rode with Rainey, Bubba (Shobert), Kenny, and all those guys at the Roberts Ranch. They were very hard on me, and I’m sure as older riders were to them when they were 14. They were all just teasing me and calling me names and generally being unpleasant to me. It was hard for me. I mean, f%ck, when Kenny Roberts tells you that you suck, you know... I didn’t call my mom and have her come and get me, but it wasn’t a lot of fun. I learned to keep my mouth shut. And when I would go ride or hang out with Chris Carr and Kenny Tolbert, they were very hard on me as well. That treatment was very common and had been common forever.”

Pegram’s voice carried the weight of those formative years, suggesting that the adversity he faced served him well in the long run. “But, you know what? It made me a better rider. Was it bullying? Maybe, but it gave me a very tough shell. So later when, you know, I raced against Mat, and he was an asshole, I was like, yeah, big deal. I would just laugh in his face, which really made him mad.”

He paused for a moment, letting the memories settle before continuing. “So, you have to understand that is what I came from, okay? I don’t think the process to become a racer now for young men is anything like that. I think that the generation we have now, they grew up with toxic masculinity being something to avoid. They grew up with masculinity being demonized, vilified. And to a point, shown that competition is bad. Or can be bad.”

Pegram’s reflections turned toward the competitive nature of racing and how it has evolved—or perhaps, softened—over the years. “When I was a kid, my rival was Mike Hale. I raced against him my whole life. If he beat me, even when we were kids, I was miserable. We were adversaries, even when we were kids. I mean, we talked sometimes, but we never shook each other’s hand after a race, not even when we were kids. I wanted to beat him, and he wanted to beat me. I bet we were in our twenties before we ever shook hands, and that was probably at a wedding or a banquet or something.”

He then contrasted this with what he sees in today’s riders. “Now, I think sometimes riders would rather lose than cause a problem. Hey, you first, before me. This is why Marc Marquez is Marc Marquez, you know? He’s old school; he’s the way riders were when they were riders and wanted to win more than anything.”

Pegram’s thoughts seemed to extend beyond just racing. “My point is it’s not just the riders that are different now. It’s the world that is different, maybe?”

He hesitated, knowing his words might sound like those of a man longing for the past. “I hope I am wrong, and I know I sound like an old guy when I say this, but it’s a lot of young men who have been taught how they should behave, and it’s not really what we experienced at all. It’s not just that you can see it in the way they ride. It’s that you can see it in the way they exist now?”