| October 20, 2024
Cycle News Archives
COLUMN
The Queen of “Trophy Girls”
By Kent Taylor
In the 21st century, the motorsports’ victory podium almost seems to be a choreographed diorama, one where race victors and energy drink girls are positioned both safely and legally distant from one another. Not so long ago, however, to the victor went the spoils and those spoils included a sloppy and sweaty canoodle with the now-extinct species known as “the trophy girl.” This was a day when men would be boys, and when those boys celebrated a victory on the AMA’s Grand National circuit, they reached for a Camel. Miss Camel, that is, an Alabama belle named Lynn Griffis, and she was there on that podium, lips-awaitin,’ to make that victory celebration even sweeter.
In the 1970s-’80s, “Trophy Girl” Lynn Griffis, aka Miss Camel, stood on more victory podiums than Jay Springsteen, Kenny Roberts and Scotty Parker combined.
Everyone, that is, who was capable of sliding a Harley-Davidson XR750 or manhandling a Yamaha TZ750 into victory circle during the 1970s and early ‘80s Camel Pro/Winston Pro sponsored AMA Grand National Championship events. The tobacco giant was a faithful sponsor of the series, and Griffis was there to represent the company and congratulate winners with a victory smooch. Known as Miss Camel (and later Miss Winston), Griffis has stood on more victory podiums than Jay Springsteen, Kenny Roberts and Scotty Parker combined.
Growing up in the Birmingham, Alabama, suburb of Bessemer, Griffis (who now goes by the abbreviated “Grif”) knew early on that her life’s journey would take her far away from the path being followed by those around her. “When I was 13, I told my mom, ‘All I see in Alabama is women getting married and having children, or women having children and getting married. I won’t be doing that, Mom!’
“My mom was very supportive of me, and she understood. We were very close—and still are! She is 97 years old and lives with me here in Maui.”
She was denied a career as a flight attendant— “I discovered they had strict restrictions about perfect vision”—and she began attending Mississippi State College for Women in Columbus, Mississippi, before transferring to the University of Alabama. But college life was put on hold when, at age 19, she began a brief stint as a model and was part of a contingent of young models invited to visit Japan. It was a life-changer. “I decided that I wanted to know more about cultures and people and that I had to travel!”
“In 1970, there was a job opening with RJ Reynolds. I was one of several girls applying and I remember the interview was held at Talladega Raceway. I wound up getting hired and spent the first couple of years working with auto racers in the Sebring series. There were only about 10 races each year, so when Camel got on board with the AMA, where there would be 30 events per year, I moved into motorcycling.
“I didn’t have any background in the sport,” she says, “other than a dirt bike that I would sometimes ride on the street. I took the new position and absolutely loved it!
“I never really had a job description,” she says. “I would do PR work and local radio interviews before the races. There was one restriction in my contract, however, that stated I could not date any of the racers.” She says today, “I was there for everyone—and no one.”
“Grif” even made the cover of Cycle News.
Griffis developed a close connection with her racing family. “I was so happy to be there. We were all so innocent, and we cared about each other. It was like an instant family.”
And the victory kisses? “They were mostly all gentlemanly kisses.” All of them? Did any of the race winners ever get too familiar? At the question, Grif averts her eyes, almost looking off to see a past moment, four decades gone. “Yes,” she says, with a wry smile and then, after a pause, one more, “yes.” There is quite likely a name on the tip of her tongue, but that is where it remains. Grif is a professional; she doesn’t kiss and tell!
So, most of the victory smooches were rated G. While she couldn’t have her favorites, Grif remembers a handful of racers who became good friends. Harley-Davidson rider Clifford “Corky” Keener stood on the Grand National podium five times with Grif, and she remembers Corky as “my first best friend. Maybe because he was older than me and many of the other racers, but I just felt safe with him and his wife, Mary.”
She remembers other racers well. Kenny Roberts, who “seemed very serious, very determined,” and Jay Springsteen. “He was so loose and so much fun, just the opposite of Kenny.”
No one can deny that much of the thrill involved with racing is the reality that competing at this level means that a rider is often on the ledge, living somewhere between glory and disaster. The good side of the ledge is exhilaration. On the other side and not so far away is a place of devastating injury—or worse.
“Ted Boody,” she remembers, “was just adorable. He was not afraid of anything. He was so good-natured and could be so goofy.” Grif was at Ascot Park the night Boody lost his life in a last-lap crash. “That night,” she remembers, “was just horrible.”
Grif stayed with the Camel/Winston series for an amazing 17 seasons before something told her it was time for her next journey.
Grif stayed with the Camel/Winston series for 17 seasons. She currently lives in Maui.
“I am a very spiritual person, deeply into metaphysics, and I listen to what I hear within myself. I was 37 years old, and I just felt that I needed to move on.”
Life has been good for the former Miss Camel. Acting, producing plays with the late Patrick Swayze and starting a jewelry company, GrifCreation.com, with musician/composer Quincy Jones are just some of the adventures that Grif has had since leaving AMA racing in the 1980s.
“My life as Miss Camel gave me the confidence to do these things,” she says. “Being around winning, seeing what it took to be a winner, gave me the confidence to take on new and exciting ventures. It was a magnificent, magical time.” CN
