Corndog: A Life at Speed. A Head-On Hit. Still Here
by Dean Adams
Wednesday, February 11, 2026
Henny the Ray
Corndog chasing Filice and D’Aluisio at Texas World in 1991. Is this the year he also raced a Skip Eakin-tuned Honda RS750 in dirt track? Maybe.
His email address has changed. It is icj212511@gmail.com
Everyone in motorcycle racing knows Jonathan Cornwell.From factory engineers at Yamaha to ice racers in Saskatchewan. From Kevin Cameron to Claudio Domenicali. From Jim Allen to Gary Medley to Julian Ryder. If you’ve spent any time at the sharp end of the sport, you’ve likely crossed paths with the no-nonsense man from Ontario.
They know him as “Dogger.”
They know him as a man of knowledge. Of calm. Of cool, unflappable resolve. Everyone remembers the story of when King Carl Fogarty melted down on his factory Ducati team because the new bike wasn't to his needs. The garage was silent until Cornwell squared up on Foggy and told him the problem was he wasn't riding hard enough. Oh yeah. That happened.
Cornwell has been racing motorcycles since he was four years old. He has competed in nearly every form the sport offers — motocross, dirt track, 250 Grand Prix, Superbike. He may well be the only man alive who has won races on ice, owns an XR750, made the field at the Indy Mile, and also won Daytona on a Supermono.
He has worked at the highest levels of the sport, alongside the brightest engineers and the fastest riders in the world. And whether the conversation is about chassis flex, combustion efficiency, or ice tire stud patterns, Dogger speaks with the same tone: measured, direct, never theatrical.
A short time ago, Dogger was driving with his teenage daughter when they were struck head-on at speed by a drunk driver.
We are grateful to report that both of them are going to be okay.
For a man who has spent a lifetime managing risk at 200 miles per hour, it is a cruel irony that danger found him on an ordinary road. Racing is supposed to be the dangerous part.
Motorcycle racing is a small world. When something happens to one of its own—especially someone who has given so much to it—the news travels quickly.
Dogger has spent decades helping riders go faster, safer, smarter. Now the community that has long leaned on his steady hand leans back toward him.
Heal up, Dogger. We’re glad you’re still here.
Want to drop him a line of encouragement? His email might be icj212511@gmail.com but we didn't give it to you. And if it comes back dry, remember he doesn't even return our email.
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