Horse With No Name Horse With No Name

words and images: Brian Rathjen

On the first part of the journey

I was looking at all the life

There were plants and birds and rocks and things

DThere was sand and hills and rings America ewey Bunnell was just a 19-yearold British kid when he wrote America’s signature single, “A Horse with No Name.” Originally titled “Desert Song,” it was in uenced by his childhood experiences in Southwestern America as the child of an American serviceman. Heck, it wasn’t even on the rst pressing of America – but it became and is an American anthem for so many. Me included.

As the calendar flipped to twenty-three, we looked to break a finger or two off Old Man Winter’s grip, and with the motorcycle industry’s trade show –AIMExpo - heading to Las Vegas in mid-February, we thought it might make sense for us to head west and spend a few days with the people who truly make our two wheels spin… the motorcycle industry. We could have just flown to Sin City, but what would be the fun in that? So, we reached out to Suzuki and asked if we could spend some time on a couple of their machines. We had hoped for the new 800, but they had not yet arrived, so Shira took the latest version of the V-Strom 650XT – and I was more than a tad pumped to take the keys of the new Suzuki GSX-S1000GT+,

Suzuki’s new flagship. Hayabusa and GSXR be damned – this bike got bags. I say flagship. Besides, when so many journalists and publications call the Bike of the Year and Suzuki’s GOAT – even I stick my head out the window in New Jersey and take note.

We flew to Orange County on Super Bowl Sunday, an easy travel day even if we routed through Phoenix - the home of LVII. It was a great game, but more importantly – with Super Bowl in the mirrors, riding season in the northeast was coming up fast!

Orange County to China Lake

Monday found us taking the keys and setting up the two Suzukis at the corporate headquarters in Brea, and by late morning we were motoring north and east towards the mountains, all snow-capped white in this second month of the year.

Shira was instantly comfortable on the V-Strom 650 XT, a machine she has put thousands of miles on herself, and I found the Metallic Triton Blue GSXS1000GT+ to be far more slender and nimble than I had anticipated. Suzuki had spent much time on the design and aerodynamics of this machine and it showed; from the first moment I felt comfortable, at home, and confident on this striking machine.

Along the way, we stopped to use a power cord to throw some juice into Shira’s Cardo Bluetooth, from the convenient USB plug on the GT+. We had just been on the sideof the highway for a minute when I felt something pulling up behind me and turned to see Shira talking to a CHiPS Officer on a Harley. He’d seen us and stopped to make sure we were okay – which we were. Still, it led to a long conversation on what we were doing, where we were going, and a little warning on our planned route over the San Gabriel Mountains on the Angel’s Crest Highway – a motorcycle/sports car mecca – but maybe not for Aquarians, or this time of year?

We took note, as we did of the Angels Crest closed signs tossing us quickly into a Plan B. That was okay – we live in Plan B.

Still, right before Highway 2, I spied a sign that grabbed my attention. Shira saw it as well. It was just three words, but I could almost feel her as she rolled her eyes, shook her head, and counted down till she saw the GT+’s signal come on.

Jet Propulsion Laboratory. This is it.

The Big Boys & Girls of Deep Space Exploration. The Jet Propulsion Laboratory holds a unique place in the universe. They are the leaders in robotic space exploration, sending rovers to Mars, probes into the farthest reaches of the solar system, and satellites to advance understanding of our home planet.

Heck, there would have been no first Star Trek movie without them, as JPL launched Voyager One on September 5th, 1977. Nearly 50 years later it is still going strong and is currently heading toward the constellation of Ophiuchus, some 81.8 Light Years distant. Well, until the Borg grab it.

You might be able to see it. Look up –second star to the right… and straight on until morning.

Although tours can be had at JPL, it was something that needed to be arranged in advance. If I would have known, we would have, but I didn’t so we were out of luck. Still – I will tell you the two well-armed guards at the entrance were not amused when I rolled up, at a quick pace, for that Kodak moment. In fact, they were not amused in the least.

Lucky for me I was all “So sorry. No guns. Hey…. Can I take a picture?”

Jim, the least amused of the two, looked at me sternly and slowly his hand slipped off the Glock… “Is that the new Suzuki GT?” he asked.

Why yes, it is…Jim; and he then told me to park there for the best shot and we all chatted up like we were on the Group W Bench.

He was from New York - Utica - and had 12 motorcycles. Motorcycles beat domestic terror any day. Just stopping by JPL was outstanding to me – little did I know we would actually, maybe, top that later in the day.

With the road closed over the peaks, we routed down to Palmdale, on the Angels Forest Highway, and then to Palmdale. We had already touched the limits of the universe with JPL – but Palmdale has its own aviation history, one once blanketed in secrecy.

During lunch, I told Shira I had a surprise for her. She looked at me and smiled –not really. She hoped it didn’t involve the miles of unpaved Mojave Desert that we were knocking on. I assured her it didn’t.

Right outside the local airport is a wonderful collection of some amazing and historic aircraft. The Joe Davies Heritage Airpark showcases an amazing collection of aircraft flown, tested, designed, produced, or modified at the United States Air Force Plant 42 – located right behind the park. The airpark includes 21 retired military aircraft on static display, plus a 1/8 scale model of the B-2 Spirit, an AGM-28 Hound Dog Missile, a B-52, a C-46, and various aircraft components.

It is free and it is obvious that Palmdale has deep pride in its part in American aviation history.

But, there was one more thing… Shira spotted it first and she simply said… “Oh, are you having a wet dream today or what?”

Yes, she is beautiful and elegant.

Why, yes. Yes, I was. Oh, boy.

On my motorcycle at home, I have a sticker of a friendlylooking skunk. I have been asked about it, and my answer is usually deflective and with a bit of overwrought secrecy. I’d tell ya, but...well –you know.

But here it was –no secrecy anymore.

Lockheed-Martin’s Skunk Works. The GPS showed it a huge CHECKPOINT with a tank logo.

Not going to even attempt to say hi – but I did get a picture.

Let me explain… A skunkworks project is a project developed by a relatively small and loosely structured group of people who research and develop a project, often with a very large degree of autonomy, primarily for the sake of radical innovation. The term originated with Lockheed’s World War II Skunk Works project… an engineer named Irv Culver was a fan of Al Capp’s newspaper comic strip, “Li’l Abner.” In the comic, there was a running joke about a mysterious and malodorous place deep in the forest called the “Skonk Works,” where a strong beverage was brewed from skunks, old shoes, and other strange ingredients. The name worked then – it still does today.

This is where Stealth was born.

Over the years,the Skunk Works division in Palmdale, California, was given a more official moniker, Lockheed’s Advanced Development Programs, but its mission remained unchanged: build the world’s most experimental aircraft and breakthrough technologies in abject secrecy at a pace impossible to rival.

JPL AND Skunk Works. Okay – we can go home.

But instead, we rode across the desert, at times fighting some serious 40+ gusts, and then into the high desert town of China Lake – another place with a serious military history.

Finding the nearest chain hotel, we went in search of sustenance on the mean streets of China Lake.

China Lake to Vegas Baby!

I’ve been through the desert on a horse with no name

It felt good to be out of the rain

In the desert, you can’t remember your name ‘Cause there ain’t no one for to give you no pain

A bit further on we stopped by a bright yellow historical marker for Ballarat – now a famous Ghost Town, but once part of a bustling mining industry and also for another off bit of moto-history as it was a stopping place for one of the cars running in what was called the World’s Longest Race that ran from New York to Paris in 1908. That automobile, a Thomas Flyer, arrived in the middle of the night on March 22. The sign said the race was 13,341 miles long and that very same car can be seen at Harrah’s in Reno. 1908?

Now that is amazing!

We ran north along the Panamint Mountains and then straight toward Death Valley on Route 190.

This is where this tale takes a dirty and very dangerous turn. Considering what we were about to spin into, perhaps a better choice of songs and lyrics come from the same album by America…

I understand you’ve been running from the man that goes by the name of the Sandman He ies the sky like an eagle in the eye of a hurricane that’s abandoned

Our plan was breakfast or lunch at Stovepipe Wells, but as we were approaching the junction we could see a dark cloud to the north, slowly heading east. We saw rain… or was it. Kinda hard to tell, but we have dealt with weather thousands of times, none of which would count this day as we were running headfirst into something unique. Unforeseen. Dangerous ‘Cause, there ain’t no one for to give you no pain?’

Well, yes there was.

Just ‘cause somebody is on a hitting streak doesn’t mean it can’t end in a New York Minute. ‘Cause it can and it will.

Our day started off sweet enough, heading out and across the western edges of the Mojave.

To our right, deep in the desert, we could see the towering Trona Pinnacles spiking up into a clear blue sky. These magnificent rocks are leftover from when this region was under a vast inland sea, some 100 thousand years ago, called the Searles Lake that stretched from present-day Mono Lake to Death Valley.

No sooner had we begun to climb higher into the mountains than the clouds dropped in and ate us. Literally. We went from fair weather to WTF winds. It only got worse from there. I saw the scraggly trees bend sharply towards the ground as the winds bounced off the rock walls and tangoed together. It was not a nice dance at all.

The V-Strom was being jostled to and fro – but the GT+, with its sleek bodywork, had become an unwanted sail. I felt the front wheel begin to skip, as the suspension struggled to keep the rubber on the pavement. Yikes!

The temperatures plummeted from 60 to 30 in a few miles as we rose higher. Then the sand began to fill the air. I could barely see Shira ahead of me, as I had slowed to control the bike and she had a pace that kept her going. By the time we crested at Towne Pass - at 5,000 feet - we could not see each other, and only our Bluetooth comms kept us in contact, as we rode up the 15% grade. All we could see was the road directly in front of us and then the frightening rush as a car or SUV rolled past in the other direction. It was like getting passed by Great White sharks, and each pass shot another dribble of adrenalin into our bodies.

The GPS had a knife & fork just a few miles ahead. We made for that – we had no other real options, did we?

When we pulled into Stovepipe Wells we parked the bikes away from other vehicles and as close to a building as we could. The wind would push the Suzukis one way, and then quickly the other, and I saw the suspensions rise and fall… and simply thought there was nothing I could do –they were going to flip.

We pushed ourselves towards the restaurant, which was technically closed for another half an hour but was opening to let travelers in from Mother Nature’s asskicking outside.

We had sand and dust everywhere. I took off my helmet and spit out dirt. Frack me. Shira looked drained. I felt helpless.

The power would go off, then on… only to go out again. Even the locals looked worried. Never a good thing.

We stayed for a couple of hours, going out, now and again, to see that our rides were still, remarkably, upright.

We took lunch and slowly the tempest moved east and we got back underway, with clearing skies and an easier ride, past the dunes that were still blowing sand across the road and then down into the aptly named Death Valley.

We stopped at the Visitors Center and strolled up the long path to Zabriskie Point, with its stupendous view of the rainbow layers of rock, then carried on, passing by the old Amargosa Opera House, and then onto the town of Pahrump.

We knew there would be one more 5,000+ foot mountain pass, and it would be cold. What we didn’t know was what was waiting for us before we got there.

In the African desert, they call them Haboobs, which is Arabic for the word blown. Haboobs are giant walls of dust created from high winds rushing out of a collapsing thunderstorm. Cold air in front of the storm rushes down at an incredible rate, picking up massive amounts of dust and sand and blowing them into the air. What we saw was a wall of dark brown tearing across the road.

We rode right into it and, once again, we disappeared. We slowed down to a crawl, cars coming the other way were doing the same. A mile or so later it instantly cleared, only to see another and then another Haboob ahead of us.

It was tiresome, anxiety-loaded, and was simply pissing me off.

Once again, this day I was seriously concerned for our safety – okay Shira’s. I could no longer see my wife, just a few hundred yards ahead of me.

A terrible feeling of dread consumed me.

As we got to the bottom of the peaks and hung a right off Route 95 onto 160, we had a clearing, if freezing, run into Sin City.

We spent more time riding down the strip and getting to the Sands Hotel (coincidence? I think not!) than from Pahrump. We rolled up to the door outside registration and the valet took one look at our sand and dust-coated bikes and told us we were good – go check in, clean up and the bikes would be fine for a bit.

No worries.

While waiting in line to check-in, total strangers, and people from the motorcycle industry, came up to ask if those were our bikes outside. Everyone was well aware of the frightful weather and, regardless of our real chicken-shit, kinda scared-to-death truth, we suddenly found ourselves the center of new and unwanted street cred.

“Oh, yeah, that’s us…” (Always sounds good and brave after the fact) That evening, after long hot showers, Shira said what I was thinking. We were both done with unwanted adventures. Sometimes just a really nice and fun day’s riding would be dearly appreciated.

The next few days were spent at the AIMExpo. Meeting up with industry reps, seeing what was new, old, and reborn, and catching up with some friends we never get to see enough.

But, there was one more thing we were very excited about. It’s Robot Fightin’ Time… Get ready for BATTLEBOTS!!!

Vegas to Needles

I’m leaving Las Vegas

Leaving for good, for good

We got an early start as, like Sheryl Crow, we wuz leaving Las Vegas vectoring north and around Lake Mead which was slowly filling up after years of hard drought, and then past Hoover Dam. We stopped to take in the view only to be shadowed by a healthy-looking coyote that came around the bikes, giving them and us a hard stare. Positive we were not roadrunners or holding any ACME anvils, he trotted off into the sagebrush and sand. He was there and then gone… like a desert ghost. We made great time south, finding lunch at The Last Stop – part restaurant, all tourist trap – but it worked this day. We then did a good stretch on historic Route 66 just west of Kingman, first pulling into the old filling station at Cool Springs Station, for a caffeinated fill-up and a few photo-ops, before spinning up the twisty Gold Hill Grade to Oatman, with its 191 turns in just 8 miles, earning the road the name “The Sidewinder.”

Today the town has found a rebirth as a popular place to visit, drink in some of the old west, and enjoy the small burros, descendants from the mining days that still roam the town.

Our stop for the night was a short run to and over the Colorado River and back into California at Needles, where rooms were relatively cheap and welcoming.

Needles to Joshua Tree

We took our time getting going the next day and just drank in the Mojave’s beauty and desolation.

Oatman, Arizona, was founded in 1906, and by 1931, the mines had produced more than 1.8 million ounces of gold, back when gold was selling for $20 an ounce (today, the price is around $1,800). Still, miners pulled more than $36 million out of the mountains. Oatman was a booming mining town in the late 19th and early 20th centuries with more than 10,000 residents, two banks, seven hotels, 20 bars, and a dozen other businesses, but things soon slowed down, and in 1941, the United States government ordered all mines closed due to World War II.

Along one road we sparred a bit with a new Mustang Mach One that rode along with us all the way to Chuckwalla Raceway.

We were hoping MotoAmerica was going to be practicing, but we were a few days early and missed Corey, Kayla, and friends… but got a chance to see the track, and the facilities and we took in a couple of NASA (National America Sports Association) sports cars racing –mostly Mustangs, Porsches and Miata’s going at it.

Fun track and great racing.

We cut towards Joshua Tree, but stopped for fuel and food at Chiriaco Summit, running right into several World War II Tanks sitting in the sand at the General Patton Museum. This was an unexpected discovery and truly amazing. General Patton was a brilliant military tactician, a powerful leader, and a man among men.

Did you know he was an Olympian and medaled athlete – way before he handed the Germans a stunned defeat? We didn’t. The museum had an amazing array of tanks and armored vehicles and it was here, along the miles of Mojave, that he trained his men and readied his tanks for the war in Europe. The museum is a must-stop while riding this part of the southwest.

We cut through Joshua Tree National Park – a place we have been so many times before… Yet each time feels new, fresh, and a bit overwhelming. The giant boulders, the impressive cholla, the 1,000–year–old trees that give the park, and one hell of a rock album, their name.

Joshua Tree is magical, special, and truly one of our favorite places on this planet.

As the sun was setting and the billions of stars were coming out to play, we rolled into our friends Yael and Vasilis’ home – some of our favorite people on the planet as well. We had a great free day with our friends and Baloo the Wonder Dog at Pioneertown taking breakfast at the Red Dog Saloon, and walking up and down the dusty Main Street of this old western town that was built in the 1940s by the likes of Gene Autry and Roy Rogers who wanted a place to film westerns, that was still more or less close to Los Angeles. Hundreds of films and television shows have been shot here.

Joshua Tree to San Diego

The next day we said our goodbyes and motored toward the San Bernadino Mountains. As we rode through Palm Springs, I spied a couple of fighter jets. An F-16, a MIG…. A MIG!? What is a jet from Mikoyan and Gurevich doing here in the desert?

Well, it was just a small part of the Palm Springs Air Museum.

We did a quick 180 and parked the bikes, while looking at our watches, thinking of our miles, and giving ourselves a couple of hours at today’s new museum discovery. Sorry Fred, if you and Cherrie had a fighter jet….

and produced and deployed to England. The American version was hot on its heels and the Luftwaffe was not too happy.

We were beginning to run late, so we headed over the Palms to Pines Scenic Byway that snakes itself up and over the San Bernadino mountains, and by late afternoon we were cruising through Julian and then down to San Diego - where we’d grab dinner with our son and daughter-in-law in the Little Italy section. Best way ever to end a trip!

San Diego to Suzuki

We had a great, if at times thrilling, eight days on the road – and our run up along the coast on Highway One made for an easy morning and a great way to close this chapter.

By early afternoon we had returned the machines to Suzuki and got ready for the flight back east – just as more crazed winter weather roared into the west coast.

This museum opened in 1996 and contains a serious collection of warbirds – including an F117 Stealth Bomber. Going through the wars of the 20th century – the Palm Springs Air Museum is simply amazing AND they offer flights as well. Stearman, C-47, T-6 Texan, T-28 Trojan…but if we are going up; let’s go big.

The museum also offers flights in a T-33 ($4,995) and a P-51 ($1,895); arguably one of the most famed piston-engine fighters in history. Its historic beginnings are nearly as fast as the plane itself.

At the beginning of the war, the British had urgently requested a low-altitude fighter aircraft that could also be used for reconnaissance… and the Americans answered. Within 120 days, this remarkable fighter was designed

We had covered a huge swath of the southwest - California, Nevada, and Arizona. We saw more than our share of great aviation history, got to bet on the Daytona 500 and the World Series in Vegas (Let’s Go Mets), and got to see some BattleBots destroying each other.

All in all, I think we did pretty well; and it was a superb way to break up the late winter months. We got through the rainy spring and into the beautiful days of early summer and we’re raring to go! ,

Sport Touring the Way it Used to Be!

Some 20 years back in the last century I had a 600 sportbike that seemed to constantly have soft saddlebags hanging off of it. Looking back, I still wonder how Shira and I would two-up on a 600 sportbike and go camping for a long weekend, or tour up into Nova Scotia. We even started a riding club called Sport Touring.

Those were the days.

These days it almost seems like the sport-touring world has been forgotten, and those who once would have been the first to plunk down money on a ST1300, FJR or Concours have lobbed their wallets towards today’s adventure machines.

Sure there are still offerings along the sport touring line of thought from BMW, Kawasaki and Yamaha – but Suzuki has a machine that fits the bill perfectly – the Suzuki GSX-S1000GT+.

When we knew we were heading to the AIMExpo in Las Vegas this past winter, Suzuki was kind enough to lend us two media machines. Shira was on the same ride she has here, the V-Strom 650XT, but I was offered the GSX-S1000GT+ and, after reading other reports and watching Suzuki’s videos on the machine (in Japanese I might add), I was more than a little stoked.

Being based on Suzuki’s proven GSX-S1000 sportbike, the Suzuki GSXS1000GT+ is a pure sport touring machine.

Looking at the sharp and angular bodywork of the GT+ (let’s just call the Suzuki GSX-S1000GT+ the GT+) I was concerned that the fairing and mirrors would be a bit too far forward – like when Ford gave the Mach One a Jimmy Durante nose in 1971, but in person the bike and its plastic just fit all together. A lot of time was spent on perfecting the aerodynamics of the GT+ and on a not so private long-range testing facility in the Californian desert, the machine was rock steady high into the triple digits and at every speed, wind and turbulence slid easily around me.

The fairing carries a mono-focused LED headlamp and the mirrors, which first seemed miles away, did an outstanding job of watching my 6.

The GT+ has a large full-color 6.5 TFT screen, showing a large analoglooking tach and other various bits of information – digital speedometer, fuel, temperature, miles to empty and other data.

Much of the display operates from the left hand switch gear. All this seamlessly works with your smartphone through Suzuki’s mySPIN app. This Bluetooth connection allows for access to your phone, contacts, maps and music and all the other things that seem SO IMPORTANT these days. This app can be paired with any Cardo, Sena or Bluetooth communications system you have mounted on your helmet. I can get luddicious about these things – but it all worked as advertised.

There is also a USB port on the dash – which came in handy a few times during this weeklong desert adventure.

The saddle, which sits 32 inches high, offered all day comfort and Shira had no complaints the few times we doubled up on the GT+ for dinner or scooting around a town, although she did feel, with a nearly 2.5 inch rise in the passenger seat, she was a bit too high in the saddle for an all-day romp.

The GT+ comes with hard luggage color matched to the same Metallic Reflective Blue of the rest of the machine. (It is available in black as well). These bags are very easy to use and secure, easily gobbling up a weeks-worth of gear in one bag and my rolling office, computer and stuff in the other.

The bike’s twin spar aluminum frame rides on sport-sized 17 inch rubber, and the suspension is handled nicely by a fully adjustable KYB Suspension.

The GT+ has powerful, and very controllable, Brembo brakes up front working on floating rotors and a Nissan caliper handling the back.

Now it is time to talk about the gist of this matter.

The engine.

Yes, the engine. For this machine Suzuki placed their 150 horsepower K5 engine from their superbike and combining all these ponies and its svelte weight (521 lbs. with a full 5 gallons of fuel) and you have a very potent sport motorcycle… with bags!

On the road and the twistier parts of the San Gabriel mountains the bike was truly at home – gobbling up miles in a seriously quick, yet remarkable mature way.

When you add up everything Suzuki did to make this machine possibly the greatest sport-tourer on the planet you realize that they have come damn close.

But there is something else to consider. Economics.

BMW R1250RS - $15,700 Plus the bags.

Kawasaki Concours 14 - $16,000

Kawasaki Versys SE LT -$18,900

Yamaha FJR 1300 - $18,000

The Suzuki GSX-S1000GT+ will run around $14,000, has drop-dead looks, superb handling and that friggin’ engine.

If you are looking for a real, true sport touring machine – the Suzuki GSXS1000GT+ is a no brainer. , ~ Brian Rathjen

On the road and for the days we had this machine in the desert it absolutely shined. The power was smooth and came on with gusto, and asking for Warp 7 was never an issue.

The power was strong, yet usable, and the fly-by-wire throttle felt more like a good old cable.

The GT+ has Suzuki’s Intelligent Ride System (S.I.R.S.), which includes the three-mode Suzuki Drive Mode Selector, and a five-mode Advanced Traction Control System, a Bi-directional Quick Shift System, and the popular Easy Start and Low RPM Assist systems.

All this makes it an easy machine to pilot.

What do you do during the winter?

I know almost every Thursday night we scoot over to the Discovery Channel for our weekly dose of BattleBots.

It has been our observation that once other riders and motor-heads get up to speed with what this show is about it fills that little void left in our souls –especially when it gets dark at 4:30.

When I say get up to speed; I mean like the rotating weapon of a 250-pound robot stalking across the Battlebots Arena looking to cause mayhem.

I have never been a big “fight guy”. Men and women punching each other silly never grabbed more than passing attention. Hurt is never a good thing – for whatever reason.

That doesn’t mean I don’t like to see a good fight – but it is certainly more entertaining when it comes in the form of technology, mechanics, knowhow, and a well-formulated battle plan.

BattleBots got its start back in 1999 and ran for several seasons on Comedy Network. That all ended in 2003, but the fighting picked back up in 2015 and has been gathering steam ever since, now watched in over 150 nations and five continents.

The big competitions are huge and hosts Chris Rose and Kenny Florian, along with the irrepressible announcer Faruq Tauheed, make for great Thursday night battles.

But now while touring in Nevada you can be part of the BattleBots phenom as well. These days all the mayhem happens in a large arena in Las Vegas… and we got a chance to spend some time with people who are all about Robot

Fightin’ Time at BattleBots Destruct-A-Thon, which is now the newest show to hit Sin City. Let’s call it Crush Du Soleil.

Although they still have the big competitions for the Giant Nut, this show has all the bang, crush, fires, and destruction we have come to love.

The nightly shows are an intense, fast-moving fight fest featuring famous robots that have delighted millions of fans all over the world, including bots like WitchDoctor,Kraken,Mammoth, HyperShock, Whiplash, and more, as well as several new robots being specially created for this live experience. Some shows will even feature fights from rookie teams eager to try out for the next BattleBots World Championships, and existing BattleBots stars coming to test out their new robots ahead of the next TV taping. The show is hosted by Bil Dwyer, the former host of the show on Comedy Central, together with Steve Judkins.

We arrived a few hours before showtime and got a behind-the-scenes look at how all this robotic carnage is created.

If you are a mechanic, and/or technological sort of person, and appreciate things that are wonderfully made, then you will appreciate how much work goes into every one of the BattleBots – then watch them bash the snot out of each other.

There are dozens of teams that represent builders from around the worldand over the years we have come to root for some over others…

Glitch’s major upsets over overpowering opponents were an unexpected blast. Witch Doctor- because they just seem so nice and very positive and always pushing for young ones to pursue careers in engineering. Then there are the “bad guys” (okay – not really – but someone has to be the Marquez) Copperhead and End Game seem to win too much and seem a bit snarky when they do, and Martin Mason… well, he might talk a big game but in truth, his is one of the best things to ever happen to the sport. He is the Chair of Engineering at Mt. San Antonio College where he teaches physics and electrical engineering while mentoring the robotics team. Then there is David Eaton’s Rusty Jr. This is sort of the Sad Sack of Ro- bots – but even he has a victory or two.

You see, the Bots builders of today will be the creators of tomorrow. They are just having a boatload of fun getting there.

But this is no ordinary Vegas act.

Liberace and Wayne Newton knew exactly what they would be playing every time they walked on stage. This is BattleBots and anything can happen, and executive producer Tom Getteridge put it plainly, “I can’t disguise how difficult it is to produce because it’s not like a show where you’ve got actors and a script. It’s not like a show where you’ve got a few songs and some acrobats or whatever. We’re actually dealing with these very delicate machines that go wrong, they’re temperamental, and you never know who’s going to win a fight or how long the fight’s going to run.”

Safety is a major concern with this spectacle and the BattleBots arena, 48 X 48 square foot Bot-killing ground, is constructed of thick lexan walls and a steel floor and ceiling that has spinning “Killsaws” and robot smashing “Pulverizing” hammers built into it. Each event runs three full minutes with judges weighing the victor on three criteria – damage, aggression, and control. Sometimes there is a clear winner by knockout – other times it comes down to the judges.

We witnessesed five fights that evening and one sacrificed slot machine that was pulverized just ‘cause they could. Debris went flying!

BattleBots Destruct-A-Thon in Las Vegas is well worth a detour off the desert backroads and into downtown Las Vegas – we promise you will love it, ‘cause it’s robot fightin’ time!

To learn more or buy tickets log onto battlebots.com/tickets ,