May 2024

WHAT’S INSIDE

wear proper protective gear and helmet. Ride within your limits, not over them.

FREE WHEELIN

It was a day like a bunch that had happened over the last few weeks or so. Sometimes it seemed like the sun would get bright, and the world felt like it was heading towards spring, but as the evening came clouds built and I was reminded it was still winter, and though we were on a trajectory toward the spring it was not here yet.

This same day there was something else on a trajectory of its own – Odysseus, called Nova-C. It had been 18,700 days since the United States had landed on the moon –with Apollo 17, the final moon mission - but this afternoon the day-to-day of putting magazine got parked and we turned all our attention on the Houston-based company Intuitive Machines’ attempt to land at the lunar south pole. Just the month before Japan landed – but they did land upside down – negating the mission. More like they just hit the moon. But right now, as I am typing, we are all hoping everything has gone as expected and needed to get this done.

we do and how we live. When we go for a ride, a tour, or a Backroads rally so many things have to go right, or close to right – enough so that minor corrections can be made. Course corrections (Yes, all the time), individual perceptions, and tasks taken to go, stop, lean, turn and make judgment calls that will affect the mission.

That quick veer around that car that just pulled out in front of you. The decision to wait out that hard thunderstorm. The choice to stop, turn around, and go back to that rider on the side of the road. Everything matters. We try to stay Nominal during it all.

It made me think of how many people were involved in this and how many things had to go right, or close to, to have it all be nominal. Nominal. It is the best word with all things space-oriented. Nominal means everything is proceeding as expected, but there are sometimes you don’t hear that word. Hearing the phrase Major Malfunction, or Unscheduled Disassembly is always a bad thing to hear from NASA.

So many thousands of people, making small day-to-day decisions, and choices and showing dedication and pride can make something this amazing, like Nova-C, happen. Everybody’s life is this way. We are the sum of our decisions in everything

We all need to finish. We all need to land. NASA says TDN – Tango Delta Nominal. It’s a great thing; and when one rider does not finish the day, for any reason, it does affect everyone else.

With space exploration maybe a solar panel does not open, or a valve does not close. It could be a small thing that leads to a big catastrophe - like a simple O-ring failure.

Small things can affect us as riders. A helmet not buckled can be a nuisance that can be easily corrected. But if it is discovered after a crash – it may be far too much and far too late.

While we are talking helmets – just look at your helmet. So much went into its creation. A company like the German-based Schuberth spends thousands and thousands of man-hours and testing to create a helmet that will be used by a rider on the other side of the planet, and if called upon every little thing that they did will come into play to ensure that rider rides another day. We live in an amazing world, made up of amazing people and companies that, most of the time, work hand-in-hand, even it they are not aware of it. Synchronicity. Do your part. Wear real gear. Practice real skills. Pay attention to your riding and life. Let’s keep it all real, and at the end of every ride let’s think… Tango Delta Nominal! ,

NomiNal

Welcome to the ShoW

While you are reading the May issue, this was written at the end of March, a magical time. It is the beginning of so many things – the turning of the seasons, with warm weather, sunny days and the blooming of flowers and trees. Motorcycles begin to fill the byways and trails, spring training is taking place with the return of baseball and weekends, when not out riding, are spent watching motorcycle racing.

I have been watching baseball for quite some time. I think I probably got into it because of my brother Jan. He was, in general, a game player. Not necessarily an athlete, but a lover of games, statistics and such. He took part in fantasy leagues, kept a score card when at baseball games and followed the numbers and brackets in basketball. As a matter of fact, I have a box, a LARGE box, of his APBA Major League Baseball cards (anyone interested, drop me an email).

For those not ball and stick folks, baseball has different levels and leagues and when a player is moved into the major league, it is called ‘The Show’ or, more specifically, ‘Welcome to the Show.’ Players can be in AAA, AA or A leagues for many years before being called to The Show and many players never even see it. Just because you make it to The Show, doesn’t mean you’ll stay there either.

The same progression applies to motorcycle racing. Let’s take a look at

Valentino Rossi, considered to be one of the greatest racers of all time. Born in 1979, Valentino (also known as The Doctor) began his racing days in karting and minimoto. In 1996 he made his grand prix debut in the 125cc class and won the title in 1997. He moved to the 250cc class the next year and by 1999 had achieved the title in that class. In 2000 he was given a seat with Honda in the 500cc class, the highest at that time. It took him nine races, but he finally achieved his first win, racing against Kenny Roberts Jr., who ultimately won the title that year. Racing against his main rival, Max Biaggi, Rossi took home the championship in 2001. 2002 and forward, the two-stroke 500cc class morphed in the 900cc fourstroke MotoGP class. The Doctor joined Yamaha in 2004 and dominated, taking home the title trophy in 2004, 2005, 2008 and 2009. In all, Valentino Rossi has nine Grand Prix titles, has 89 race victories (the most of any other racer in history), has been on the top step of the GP podium 115 times, with a total top podium, across all classes, of 235.

We had the pleasure of seeing The Doctor race a few times, most memorably was 2006 and 2021. In 2006 we were at the Valencia Grand Prix, the final race of the season. Going into this race, Rossi was just 8 points ahead of Nicky Hayden, the Kentucky Kid. Rossi needed a second or better to take home another title. With camera trained on both Rossi and Hayden as they came around, Brian put it down to ‘just watch the race’ when, right in front of us, Rossi lost the front wheel and slid out of contention. While he did get back into the race, he only finished 13th and 5 points behind Nicky Hayden, the last American to win a MotoGP title.

Continued on Page 8

the Real Deal: coRN FeD choppeRS

Like most motorcycle-related things, it started with a phone call from Dangerous Dan. “Hey, Mark, you got a minute for some motorcycle nonsense?” is a standard opening, one for which I have no defense. “My friend Ryan,” he said, “and a bunch of his chopper-riding buddies meet at his workshop on Thursday nights for a bike night and I was wondering if you’d like to come along.” That was the verbal equivalent of chumming over a school of Mark sharks and started a mental feeding frenzy.

I’m not a “chopper” guy, at least not in the way the people from that Discovery Channel show are concerned. Hanging out with a bunch of poseurs who might be able to endure their S&S-motored, tart’s-handbag money pits long enough to get to the nearest gin joint is not my style. DD assured me, however, that Ryan and the gang were the real deal and that’s how I found myself in their company a couple Thursdays ago.

Their shop is less than six miles from my house, so I mounted my 500 cc Honda single for the ten-minute journey. I figured I might as well show up on the antithesis of a hardtail V-twin to see if Dan was right and that they’d welcome me just the same. I needn’t have worried: when I pulled up alone and unknown before a crowd of over a dozen chopper enthusiasts, they universally welcomed me with not only friendliness, but enthusiasm for my vintage, rice-country ride. I arrived before DD, so I simply explained that I was his buddy, although I’m pretty sure it would have been OK even if I’d been some schmuck who was just passing by, as long as I was genuinely interested in bikes.

Introductions were made and I, being me, remembered about two names, but we were soon linked by our shared love of all things two-wheeled. Inside and outside the shop were a collection of bikes that were the diametric opposite of the ones I feared they would be. The choppers in residence were a collection of basic, handmade hardtails with modestly-extended forks, no front brakes, and stepped-tandem seats with sissy bars. If you picture Dennis Hopper’s bike from “Easy Rider,” that’s the ethos. There were no “fatties” crammed into overly-styled rear fenders: like the people - the bikes were clearly “riders.”

The human riders were no less laid-back: working-class and/or professional local guys, husbands and fathers, sans extensive “atts and tatts,” who actually ride their machines, and not short distances, either. Ryan shared that they had a couple bikes to finish before an annual spring ride to North Carolina for a campout. I tried to imagine having the balls - and the backto ride one of their basic creations that far and he said, “Oh, we gotta stop about every hour for gas anyway.” He also showed me that their bikes do NOT have forward-mounted controls so that they can actually stand up on the pegs to absorb any big bumps that might otherwise unseat them.

They like old-school, bright metalflake three-quarter helmets, a couple of which were perched on tall sissy bars. The engines on the bikes were mechanically, if not cosmetically, nice and functional, with a variety of air cleaning apparatus ranging from pod filters to… none. A variety of humorous stickers were scattered around and one tank sported a simple, hand-lettered admonishment to the rider, “Don’t f***ing die!” Ryan proudly informed me that a photo of that one made it into “Easy Riders” magazine. Just to complete the picture, they’re not one-dimensional: the shop included a Gold Wing in need of some TLC and several Japanese dirt bikes in various stages of restoration (something I’m certain DD will have a hand in assisting). There was a newer, production Harley and even a four-wheeled ATV to round out the collection.

The “clubhouse” is a “barndominium:” a large pole building with three huge rollup doors and an upstairs apartment. There are a couple refrigerators, a pool table, a big-screen TV, and an audio system hooked to a computer. Despite the ethos, it’s not a steady diet of Steppenwolf’s “Born to be Wild;” Doc Watson was strumming out “Walk on Boy” at one point. There’s a plethora of tools and a couple welders and a whole bunch of vintage/ non-vintage spare parts. The building is as interesting and eclectic as the humans who inhabit it. Oh yeah, there’s a set of “cornhole” boards painted with the group’s logo, a chopper-riding corn cob. DD’s chum worked: I’m a t-shirt-wearing Corn Fed Choppers guy now. They’re the real deal. ,

BACKLASH

Shira and Brian,

As a long time reader, I feel that I have to tell you about an interesting fact. First and foremost, I am not looking to have this email printed in Backlash. I am only interested in advising, no, reminding you of how really small this seemingly large world is. I have emailed in the past, you may remember, about my motor cop years and when Shira and her sister went to Conrad’s Confectionary in Westwood. As I read the April issue and turned to Big City Get Away, there is the Oriolo, Blue Arrow Farm in Pine Island, NY. Here comes the fun. Mike Oriolo is a member of the Westwood Volunteer Fire Department. He is Don’s son. He is also a member of our Honor Guard, of which I am Captain. As you might imagine, we routinely tease him in regards to Felix. However, it is certainly not intended in a mean way, how could it be? He is from a wonderful family who brought, and still brings great joy to children and adults alike. I just wanted to remind you two of the impact you make on other people’s lives, as well as their lively hoods by promoting their business. I will Always be a reader as long as you produce the magazine. Like I said, it really is a small world, isn’t it?!

“Righty-O!”

Charlie Haffler • WPD • WFD

Hi Charlie,

Thank you so much for getting in touch. It really is a small world and you are very right – Don (and I’m sure his son and rest of his family) is a wonderful person. We have one of his Felix guitars gifted from a friend and hang it proudly in our music room. We just spent St. Patrick’s Day at Blue Arrow with a great rockin’ band – so much fun and a wonderful space. And thank you for your very kind words. We enjoy, very much, bringing riders/readers to new places and expanding their horizons, as well as helping out the businesses.

Core Beliefs

Hey Backroads,

I was reading “Welcome to the Jungle” Core Beliefs and it’s funny, I just starting going to a trainer because of a shoulder pain. Long and the short, weak back muscles cause pain to my shoulder, riding acerbated it. We, as a society, push everything and don’t pull much anymore.

My trainer sent me exercises just for riding. So, I’m now targeting my core for riding!

Gary Renna

Hello,

I inadvertently deleted this week’s newsletter (thanks for the Bikes and Breakfasts article - myfirstmeetup). Is there any way you could sendme a copy of it?

Many thanks.

Josh

Hi Josh,

You can find all our archived Backroads Reports here: archive.aweber.com/newsletter/awlist4987242

Thanks for reading.

Shira,

Happy Birthday! It is also the birthday of one of my grand daughtersand at least one other special person I know of. Thanks for the hard copy of Backroads I pick up every month at Montgomeryville Cycle Center, and for the email newsletters. Hope to see you guys on the road later this year.... such as at Van Sant Airport. Dave Trabert

On March 6th 2024 we lost a beautiful soul with an infectious laugh ,and a welcoming smile, Mike Stackhouse. His battle with brain cancer was brief and his sudden passing shocked us all. What he left all us is a wonderful memory of his big, childlike heart, his lust for life and his desire to share it with us in a variety of ways. He was a singer, songwriter, storyteller, and regular contributor to Backroads . His light was made even brighter by his wonderful, loving friend and wife, Nadya. Rest in peace Mike. You are now singing with the angels.

Continued on Page XX

BacklaSh

Hi Brian,

Continued from Page 7

I always read the weekly Backroads Report but have to say that this week’s The Hidden Enemy was absolutely brilliant. I am writing lyrics to a few metal songs right now that go along the same lines. :) What do they say about great minds? lol Ride safely!

Kind regards,

Alan Tecchio

Hey Brian,

I just got April’s edition of your magazine. That’s a super cool write up, and I’m glad that the rotors made a difference in your ride. Thank you for Galfer spotlight. I hope you and your family have a great Easter weekend. Talk to you soon!

Sam Howard • Galfer

Backroads Celebrates 30

This year, Backroads enters its 30th year of publishing, with July being THE celebration issue. We posted our 30th logo online and received some wonderful comments – here are some of them. Thank you all and we look forward to seeing everyone on the road!

I’m guessing when you began your newsletter that grew into a magazine you never expected this fabulous byproduct of your efforts...the creation of a family. Great things often sprout from humble beginnings. You built a business, you nurtured a community, you created...us. The Backroads Family. We are indebted. Congratulations on 30 successful years, and thanks. – Pam Collins

Kool. I remember my buddy Gerry delivering Backroads to bike shops off the rear rack of his bike. – Tom Rohan

30yrs… pretty good run! I can’t imagine how many folks have become great friends, of yours and each others, over these last 30 years. I’m very happy to be part of this thing you both have created. Much love! -Brad Tabaac

Congratulations! I remember meeting you at a Ramapo 500 when you were handing out the first issue. So many great friends made over the years on amazing trips. It’s been a wonderful journey, so glad we got to come along for the ride. –Paul Donoghue

Congrats!! The best thing I ever did was to join your group back in 2003. I believe the ride started in Front Royal Virginia. We will never forget that awesome ride and people we met. An amazing group of people you attract!! – Michael Hoffmann

Congratulations and thank you for 30 years of an amazing publication. – Michael Baisley

30 years congratulations on one of the best riding publications out. – Drew Baskin

Thank you Shira and Brian , for all the great motorcycling stuff that you’ve shared throughout the years. – Gilbert Toro

Congratulation Brian and Shira. That is amazing. Do we get another 30? - Mike Thomsen • MotoDreamer

Nah, it can’t be that long! Congratulations and thank you! - Ellen Cushing

Congratulations to the family we chose and love dearly! Thank you for everything you have done to create this family! - Sandra Mawhinney

WhatchathiNkiN’ Continued from Page 5 MotoGP came to the Circuit of the Americas in Austin, Texas, in 2013. It took us a bit, but we did get there in 2021 and have been back since. Luckily, we were there to see Valentino’s last race on American soil. While it was far from a memorable one for The Doctor, it was one that would stay in fan’s minds as seeing the G.O.A.T of motorcycle road racing take his last lap in the U.S.A. (his last race would be in Valencia) before retiring.

As in any sport, younger, hungrier racers come in to take the place of the experienced racers. Working their way from minimoto up, some make the climb in record time. One rider to watch in the 2024 MotoGP season is Pedro Acosta. Taking the PreMoto3 title in 2017, at the age of 13, he sliced his way through the classes, winning race after race. When he took the Moto3 title at the age of 17 ½, he became the second youngest Grand Prix Champion in history and the first rookie since 1990. In his second season of Moto2, he took that title and this year, as a rookie in MotoGP, sees him taking no prisoners as he races against the likes of Marc Marquez and Pecco Bagnaia, both multi-title holders. He took his first podium at the second race of the season in Portugal at the age of 19.

Pedro, Welcome to The Show. ,

ED YOUNGBLOOD PASSESAT 80

Former AMA President Ed Youngblood passed on March 10, 2024, and Backroads offers condolences to his family, friends and colleagues. Youngblood was 80 years old.

Born on Sept. 28, 1943, in Muskogee, OK., Youngblood bought his first bike — a 165cc Harley-Davidson — at the age of 14. After graduating from college with a master’s degree, he went to work with AMA Motorcycle Hall of Famers Chuck and Sharon Clayton as an editor ofCycle News East. In 1970, Youngblood joined the AMA staff as managing editor of AMA News, which later was replaced by American Motorcyclist. In 1978, he was put in charge of the AMA’s government relations department. In 1981, Youngblood was appointed AMA executive director. Youngblood also helped establish the AMA Motorycle Hall of Fame. He was instrumental in forming the American Motorcycle Heritage Foundation in the early 1980s to raise funds for the Hall of Fame Museum. Youngblood resigned from the AMA to focus on his interests in history and writing in 1999 and was inducted into the AMA Motorcycle Hall of Fame later that year.

BMW MOTORRAD RESTRUCTURESITS MANAGEMENT

Sven Blusch will take over as the new head of BMW Motorrad Motorsport on June 1, while Marc Bongers will concentrate on the operational management of WorldSBK

With a new management structure, BMW Motorrad emphasizes its ambitions to significantly strengthen the brand’s commitment to motorsport.

As the new head of BMW Motorrad Motorsport, Sven Blusch will focus on the strategic realignment and enhance the solid base for successful motorsport in the future. Due to his previous responsibility for race and test organization at BMW M Motorsport, he contributes over a decade of motorsport expertise to his new role.

The organizational changes underline BMW Motorrad’s commitment to a long-term and success-oriented motorsport strategy. The goal is clear: to continue living the racing spirit, to strengthen the brand on and beside the racetrack and to share the passion for motorcycle racing with fans and partners worldwide.

MOTOGP SOLDTO F1

Right before the Texas GP, the official move of MotoGP from Dorna to Liberty Media was reported to be a done deal - with purchase figure around 4 billion euros. Thus MotoGP ends up under the control of the company that

has managed and grown Formula One since 2016. The agreement between Liberty Media and Dorna Sports was reportedly finalized a few weeks ago. However, as reported by the authoritative Financial Times, the antitrust authorities could be interested in this market operation.

In 2022 Dorna Sports generated a turnover of 474.8 million, an increase of 33% compared to the previous year, although the year ended with a loss of 7.8 million euros due to the impact of pandemic.

For its part, Liberty Media, in just a few years, has overturned the perception of F1: it is now a very popular sport, especially in the USA. The goal of the new owners is to replicate these successes with MotoGP. We await developments (and official status).

STUART GARNERSENTENCEDOVERMISSINGPENSIONS

A former millionaire who illegally invested £11m of people’s pensions into his motorcycle business has been given a suspended sentence. Stuart Garner brought the iconic Norton motorcycle brand back to the UK after buying the rights in 2008. His business was given millions of pounds by the government and endorsed by MPs. But hundreds of people have lost money after investing in three pension schemes where Garner was trustee. He breached pensions regulations by investing all of their money into his business, when he should not have used more than 5%.

Judge Nirmal Shant QC gave him a custodial sentence of eight months but suspended it for two years, meaning he will not go to prison unless he commits a further offence within that time.

She said real harm had been caused to the people who invested in the pension schemes. “This is not just financial harm,” she said. “I have read statement after statement of the trauma you have done to the lives of ordinary people who thought they were investing in their future. Many of them spoke of broken relationships, profound ill health, and having to face the misery of having to work much longer than they planned because of the financial damage you have done.” It is still not known how much money they would be able to get back.

TOURATECH BAJA OPENS!

Touratech-USA announces a new retail location, Touratech Baja, located at BAJA ADV Garage in Tijuana, Mexico. They’re excited to work with the team south of the border. It’s a great opportunity for riders exploring Baja or the SoCal BDR to shop Touratech products in-person. The location and contact information is Touratech Baja / BajaADV Garage, Paseo Playas de Tijuana #334 Sección Terrazas Playas de Tijuana, Tijuana, Mexico

YAMAHA’S

AUGMENTED REALITY HELMETS

Yamaha has been working on HUD helmet displays and AR technology since it showed this version back in 2015. Virtual reality and augmented reality— when VR elements are overlaid on the real world—have had a faltering start over the last few years. However, the launch of heavily promoted devices like Apple’s Vision Pro or Meta’s Quest suggests they’re maturing into genuinely useful technologies, and inevitably there are suggestions they could somehow be incorporated into motorcycling.

Augmented reality is essentially a development of what used to simply be called a head-up display, overlaying information over your normal field of vision. That idea has been tried several times with helmets before. As long ago as 2002, it experimented with HUD helmets for drivers in its F1 race team. The technology is there, but questions remain over whether the customers are.

Probably just the ones that don’t really ride? -ed

Wanamakers General Store presents

GREAT ALL AMERICAN DINER RUN

the atRium ReStauRaNt

613 S J StRauSS lN, kiNgStoN, pa 18704

570-287-5766 • theatRiumReStauRaNt.com

I had just turned 14 and was spending early summertime up in Narrowsburg, New York. A monster storm was battering us…

It began as a “tropical depression,” or area of low barometric pressure, over Mexico’s Yucatan Peninsula on Thursday, June 15, 1972. Twelve days later, weather observers last glimpsed it as another weak low over the North Atlantic Ocean near Nova Scotia, Canada. In between those dates, the windy, watery storm known as “Agnes” tore through the eastern seaboard of the United States, killing 122 people (four in Wyoming Valley) and doing an estimated $3 billion in damages.

In June 1972, tropical storm Agnes caused severe flooding in Pennsylvania and southern New York. The floods on many major streams were the highest known since the river valleys were settled. Maximum discharges were as much as twice the discharge of a 50-year flood. Monster.

I remember my Uncle Dennis trying to organize his friends to go to the Susquehanna to help with search and rescue. He was like that.

As we arrived at this month’s Great All American Diner Run – The Atri-

um in the town of Kingston, PA - we circled off Route 309 and rode along the river now with a huge park-like 41-foot levee along the banks - a remnant from past disasters.

Not this day – it was pretty much picture-perfect.

We were on the way to the Endless Mountains region of the state and Shira had found a restaurant not far from our route. I sometimes roll my eyes when a restaurant is in the back of a mall-like parking lot … but The Atrium’s menu, staff, and food knocked any preconceived notions away.

tasty places to take your bike

The Atrium is part of the Friedman Jewish Community Center, with its beginning back in 1845 as the Jewish community of Wyoming Valley, PA, started with the formation of B’nai B’rith congregation. Over the next 179 years, the community continued to grow, adding services, buildings and aid, including a Flood Emergency Committee in 1972 after Agnes devastated the area. The Friedman JCC moved to its present location in 2019, bringing along its restaurant, The Atrium, which has been serving fresh and delicious meals for 30 years.

We took a seat at an outside table as the inside was a bit cavernous and sounded like it.

We were taken aback by the size of the menu. As huge as the ceilings. Twenty different sandwiches. Ten different paninis. Seventeen different

salads. There are also burgers, hot dogs, and more. They pride themselves on their daily soups.

I was concerned with such a heavy menu – but my worries were totally unfounded. My ABC Cobb salad was simply delicious and pretty big too. Maybe it’s The Atrium’s way?

Shira had a “Half It Your Way” – with half a smoked turkey sandwich and a half salad of pear, prosciutto & arugula – both of which were a meal the perfect size for her.

We watched as other plates were being chauffeured outside and each one seemed better than the previous dish.

If you get to The Atrium on the early side they do serve breakfast till 11:30. You will find several Bennys, a good selection of omelets as well as griddle offerings; and all the standard stuff.

If you are looking for just a quick sandwich The Atrium can give you a choice of eight.

Their home baked goods looked and smelled delicious – probably a great thing to pack away for a snack later on the ride, should their meal portions be too filling to allow for dessert.

It seems like it is all good here in Kingston, Pennsylvania; and we urge you to check out The Atrium on the website… unless you are really hungry already!

We will give you a very fundelicious route from the toll bridge at Dingmans Ferry. Enjoy! ~ BR , Download .gpx file here: www.sendspace.com/pro/dl/ab1zyf

Warren County Tourism presents BIG CITY GETAWAY

eagleS meRe motoRcycle muSeum

meRRitt FielD aiRpoRt • Route 42, SoNeStoWN, pa 17758

570-946-5800 • eagleSmeRemotoRcyclemuSeum.com

We are fairly certain that if we ran one more article and feature on an aviation museum there would be calls for our helmeted heads.

Still, many years ago on The Dick Cavett Show (I know, I know) they had a few test pilots from various aircraft manufacturers and the military and asked them if they all had “one” thing in common. They all looked at each other and back to Dick and almost as one said, “Motorcycles!”

Well, that sums that up, so with this lead-in, let us tell you about a fantastic motorcycle museum, that also happens to be found at a small regional airport in the Endless Mountains of Pennsylvania, that happens to share the grounds with an incredible collection of vintage aircraft and one very, very serious car museum as well.

Let us tell you about the Eagles Mere Motorcycle Museum.

Although we had heard about the auto and aircraft museums a few years back when our friend Steve Smith did a piece on them for us, the newer motorcycle collection was happened upon by other friends Ken and Mike who were romping around the World’s End State Park during a Backroads rally. They had talked with a few gentlemen who were creating it all and it sounded like the Two-Wheel Museum would be right on par with the other museums; and thus, during a stellar early October day, we rode out to Eagles Mere to overnight at the Eagles Mere Inn and hopefully get a chance to take in the museums, usually open only during the warm weather weekends, on a weekday.

Lucky for us George Jenkins, one of the creators and owners of the museums and the airport, is deeply involved with the inn as well and put us in contact with Joel who handles the momentous task of servicing the bikes –almost all ready to roll out and ride at any time.

daytrip ideas to get out of the daily grind

The museum has a wonderful and very symbiotic relationship with the inn –but more on that later. First, let’s check out the museum. Sprinkled around the planet you will find many collections of motorcycles – here in the mountains of Pennsylvania you will find a museum that tries to keep its focus on something very dear to our hearts here at Backroads Central… the 70’s Superbikes!

According to their description: “This time period was pivotal in the motorcycle world. It was a time when technology was rapidly evolving and manufacturers weren’t afraid to take risks in an effort to usurp their competition. This is the period that the Japanese motorcycle industry truly came into its own by challenging and defeating, many established European makes both on the racetrack and the sales floor.

What makes this museum different from most is that the bikes featured are not merely show pieces. All of the bikes are maintained in running condition and are ridden regularly. If you come join us, you may just get a chance to see some of these beautiful machines in action!”

The aviation building was surely impressive – but no aircraft in this article…right - motorcycles.

In our fantasy Jeopardy debut, our categories would be Star Trek TOS, Chicago’s First Seven Albums, Cheap Guitars I Own, and Sport Bikes of the 70s! Let’s take the ‘70s bikes, Ken, for $1000.

This is a very nice collection. A sumptuous feast for those craving that time when manufacturers were busy chasing records and not running away from bureaucrats. When the OEMs were dwelling on horsepower and handling (Okay, maybe not handling so much… but horsepower), and not dwelling on corporate powers and the ‘Bottom Line.’

We got the grand tour and met Joel at the museum’s shop, located a few miles away at a large and very well-appointed barn. It is here that bikes are serviced and maintained and most work, if needed, is handled by Joel’s talented hands and tools. It really was impressive and, for what is supposed to be a shop, looked more like a museum itself.

While we were there George arrived and with things needing attention by Joel, we followed George over to the real museums at the airfield.

George and his partner Mark have amassed one of the most wonderful mixes of machines from the 8th decade of the last century. All of the Japanese manufacturers are represented as are many European machines, like the Norton Comando 750, and a stunning

MV Augusta – in Pennsylvanian livery.

On the floor of the museum, you can see a Suzuki RE5 Rotary and the company’s famed Water Buffalo – the GT750. Some bikes are very rare and some you rarely get to see – like the 1979 Laverda JOTA 1200, and Honda CX500 Turbo.

On the early end of the Japanese invasion, there are Honda and Yamaha machines that looked like toys compared to today’s offerings. The mighty Honda CBX, the first-year Gold Wing, the venerable CB 750 right alongside the Kawasaki Z-1 and a few two-stroke Kawasakis – the H-1 and H-2. Speaking of the 6-cylinder CBX – there were others…they have a Kawasaki 6 and a very rare Benelli 760 SEI 6-piston machine as well. Interspersed with all this muscle from the ‘70s are many other machines that you might recognize or be seeing for the first time. Our favorite? The Benelli Tornado Tre 900.

This machine, in silver and green carbon fiber, is truly one of the most beautiful bikes we’ve ever seen and made all that much more special with the cooling fans located beneath the tail – looking so much like a pair of after-burners.

So many machines to see at Eagles Mere Motorcycle Museum. Oh, we forgot to mention the Car Museum… well that is for another time. But, Oh My God! Let’s leave it at that.

Here is a thought and a great opportunity for you and your riding buddies. If you head out to Eagles Mere and take five or more rooms at the Eagles Mere Inn, they will take you on a private tour of all the facilities. The vintage airplane, car, and motorcycle museums and the shop. This is truly worth it and makes this fantastic few days in and around some of the best riding in the northeast and a total motorcycling experience.

Please check the museum’s hours as they are seasonal. Enjoy! ,

That’s great, it starts with an earthquake Birds and snakes, and airplanes

And Lenny Bruce is not afraid It’s the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine.

What were you doing on October 22, back in 1844?

AMERICA

R.E.M.

Me too – nothing – but there were a bunch of folks waiting for Earth-ending events, on this fine Tuesday, which, as we kinda know, did not happen.

The 1830s and 40’s were a period of intense ferment within established Protestant denominations and also saw the revelation of several new versions of Christianity. Among the many competing ideas of the time was the belief that the world would soon end with the Second Coming of Christ, an event that would usher in the millennium. Prominent among these “millennialists” was Preacher Miller, who calculated that Christ would return to earth by May 21, 1844; the first prediction.

However, this highly anticipated day turned out to be a day of disappointment, as Christ did not return, and the world continued. Followers of William Miller, up to nearly fifty thousand people, were forced to seek other religious callings when the day passed.

One of those followers was Peter Armstrong, who was not discouraged when October 22,

1844, came and passed. Instead, he turned to the pages of the Bible to more fully understand the Prophesies that described the second coming of Christ. Armstrong determined that the second coming of Christ could not occur until the “earthly sanctuary had been purified,” an event that he did not actually predict to occur for a thousand years. However, Armstrong was focused on taking steps towards creating an earthly sanctuary to mirror the Kingdom of Heaven. He focused on Isaiah 40:3 which states, “In the wilderness prepare ye the way of the Lord.” In 1850, to create a new Zion, Armstrong purchased 181 acres of wilderness in the mountains of Sullivan County, Pennsylvania.

Armstrong believed his vocation was to undertake and lead such preparation by establishing a new city, pure from past sins, a sacred place where true believers could “join themselves to the Lord in a perpetual covenant”, live according to divine law under the direction of an inspired leader, build a Temple, and enter into eternal life without seeing death.

Celestia was the fruit of his efforts.

But, things like this always seem to get… well more interesting. Celestia was no exception.

As the winds of war began to blow across the North

celeStia • oNe maN’S DReamoF heaveNoN eaRth – uNtilthe eND

and South, Peter Armstrong took several steps to ensure Celestia’s separation from the world of Civil War America. After one of the believers received a draft notice to report to the Union Army, President Lincoln was persuaded to exempt all members of the community from military service. Armstrong then executed and recorded a deed transferring all title to four square miles to Almighty God “and to His heirs in Jesus Messiah for their proper use and behoof forever”. No longer a landlord, Armstrong believed that he could now devote his time to being an “instrument of God’s will” for those gathered to await Christ’s coming.

By deeding the land to God, Peter Armstrong assumed it would be considered sacred land and not subject to property taxes. This view was not shared by the County authorities, and around 1876 payment of back taxes was demanded. When this demand was refused, a tax sale was held, and the property was purchased by A.T. Armstrong, one of Peter’s sons. This sale did not directly change the use of the land, but it must have been unsettling to the community’s beliefs.

Celestia was also disrupted by the arrival of families whose interests were less spiritual than secular. Some sought draft exemption or an escape from normal society, or to live fairly easily at community expense. To protect believers at Celestia from such newcomers, Armstrong established a village

called Glen Sharon one mile south of Sonestown (and several miles south of Celestia) in 1872. Here aspiring Celestians could resolve any doubts and show themselves fully fit to be citizens of the sacred city. Nevertheless, Celestia seems to have declined in numbers and faith.

There was a brief revival of enthusiasm at Celestia in 1880, but this energy was soon dissipated. Armstrong himself spent increasingly less time there and was clearly unable to transform his original vision into reality. When Peter Armstrong died at Celestia on June 20, 1887, aged 69, the community had already disintegrated, though a few believers lingered for several years. The land continued to be owned by the Armstrong family until 1990, but it was once again “wilderness”.

These days, the property that was Celestia is owned by the local historical society, and there is a historic marker on PA Route 42 between LaPorte and Eagles Mere; it is always well worth knowing a bit about what you are riding past. You can park and do a bit of exploring to see if there is a Second Coming… well coming! To download a walking tour map of Celestia, click here: www.scpahistory.com/celestia

It’s all part of Mysterious America. O’Life Out! ,

ye olDe laNDmaRk taveRN

6722 State Route 20, Bouckville, Ny 13310 315-893-1810 • WWW.yeolDelaNDmaRk.com

We came across Ye Olde Landmark Tavern many years back, when we were exploring the central part of New York State. It was getting late and we were heading into a quickly approaching dusk and had just finished a superb county road designated 12B.

Just 20 minutes back we had talked about looking for a place for the night, and when we got to the crossroads of 12B and Route 20, just a few miles east of Cazenovia, we discovered Ye Olde Landmark Tavern. Ahh – paydirt!

The tavern looks like no other that we recall. Built from hand-hewn cobblestone, the front of the building has four main walls that face out, across

from what was the Chenango Canal – this 87-mile-long waterway brought goods to and from the Susquehanna River to the south and the Erie Canal to the north.

With the building of the Canal came the need for infrastructure and the newly named town of Bouckville saw the need for a public store where local citizens could come and trade the goods which they produced in exchange for necessities and other desired items. The push for a new store came from dock owner Moses Maynard’s wife, Polly, who envisioned a many-sided structure to be built. When plans were drawn up for the pie-shaped lot, it was realized that only four sides could be built in the available space.

A local man named James E. Coolidge was to be the architect and chief carpenter for the Cobblestone Store project who first designed an octagon building. Realizing the limitations of the pie-shaped lot, Coolidge drew up plans for a wedge-shaped building that would be truly unique. Years were

devoted to the planning, gathering of materials, and the construction of the building.

But, here goes a bit of Mysterious America, or at least a loud… REALLY!?

The much-married Coolidge topped his building with a six-sided cupola, one side for each of his five wives and his new bride-to-be. Oh yeah… that would work today.

All these years later this building, listed on the National Register of Historic Places, is still incredibly unique, and made even more important for we two-wheel travelers, as Ye Olde Landmark Tavern is not only a superb world-class restaurant but a comfy and beautiful inn, with four rooms upstairs.

Each room is handsomely appointed with four-post Queen-sized beds, and a larger suite is available, having a seating area, writing desk, and –when we were there – an old-style radio that looked like it would only play Johnny Dollar and in black & white too.

The beds were extra comfy, and like a tavern you might find in the old country (wherever that may be for you) you could arrive, park the bikes, take your room, shower, and simply stroll back downstairs and belly up to the bar – for a nice adult beverage if that suits you.

They offer over 20 different beers and ales, many from local brewers, as well as some very tasty sodas from Saranac and Saratoga.

When dinner time comes around Ye Olde Landmark will impress you some more with a

wonderfully eclectic and wonderfully prepared menu created by Executive Chef Andrew Hengst. It was Andrew’s family that took control of the old tavern in September of 1970, and the Hengst family has been happily taking care of locals, travelers and dignitaries since.

The menu offers sumptuous appetizers such as Crab Cakes, Calamari, and the well-oiled Landmark Platter – with stuffed mushrooms, two clams casino, a crab cake with a roasted red pepper mayo.

The main course ranges from freshly caught Grilled Fish brought in daily from New Bedford, Massachusetts, to an amazing Roast Duckling, Beef Tournedos, Filet Mignon, and an outstanding Australian Rack of Lamb. Their Seafood Paella with shrimp, scallops, spinach, peas, and saffron rice has a great Hengst flair to it.

Our thought would be that Ye Olde Landmark Tavern would make a great base camp for a small gaggle of riders. The surrounding area has some great riding, Bouckville is known for its antique shops and the nearby town of Hamilton has been called one of the friendliest towns in the United States, with some great shops and places of interest, and is well worth exploring.

We know your riding time is special to you. It’s special to us too. We think you will be more than pleased with Ye Olde Landmark Tavern and the surrounding region.

Now you just gotta make a plan… ‘cause you’re outta here! ,

eRNie’S ice cReam

78 FRaNkliN tpke, mahWah, NJ 07430 • 201-252-8373 • eRNieSicecReam.WixSite.com/eRNieS

moN-thuRS+SuN: 11am-9pm • FRi + Sat: 11am-9:30pm

There are those places that are fairly close to home, which you’ve heard mention of by friends and passersby, but somehow just haven’t visited. I do keep a list of those places, suggested by riders, ice cream lovers and those in the know and am trying to tic them off one by one.

One a recent visit with my sister (she seems to be my best ice cream companion) she pulled the latest (201) magazine, a large magazine listing the best of Bergen county, NJ for just about everything to be found in Bergen county, NJ. I flipped to the ice cream page and found that I’d been to the #1 (Van Dyk’s in Ridgewood) and one runner up (Conrad’s in Westwood) but not Cranberry Junction in Hackensack or Ernie’s in Mahwah. I’d never heard of Cranberry Junction (now on my list) but certainly was familiar with Ernie’s –one of those ‘heard of but not been’ places. So, after a wonderful Thai lunch, we headed up dreaded Route 17 to find out why Ernie’s was so popular.

Opening its serving windows in 2010, Ernie’s has been churning out hard and soft serve ice cream since. While they do take a short break during the winter months, the scooping begins in March and rolls along into December. They do make their own ice cream, as well as serving a selection of Gifford from Maine amazing flavors, and have over 30 flavors of soft serve custard. Their Pineapple Dole Whip is a particular favorite, but you can get anything from Amaretto to Tiramisu and so many more in between. Ernie’s has been a favorite of locals, school kids and sports teams and can have quite a crowd gathering nightly, enjoying their ice cream at the several tables and benches situated outside. Our visit was a very quiet Monday afternoon not long after they had opened for the season. Perusing the menu, it was very hard to make a decision on a single flavor so, naturally, a double scoop was in order. Lemon Bar (Lemon ice cream with a graham cracker swirl and lemon bar pieces) and Cinn-fully Churro (cinnamon ice cream with churro

pieces and caramel) filled my cup while Rowena went with Lovestruck Chocolate (dark chocolate ice cream with raspberry swirl and fudge filled hearts) and Cannoli (Mascarpone ice cream with cannoli shell pieces and chocolate chips). While the spring weather was certainly starting to spread its wings, there was still a bit of a nip in the air so we enjoyed our delicious ice cream in the comfort of a warm auto. Some of the other flavors that might catch your eye are Peanut Butter Caramel Cookie Dough (Peanut butter ice cream with cookie dough pieces, chocolate chips and a caramel swirl), Campfire S’mores (graham ice cream with chocolate crunch and marshmallows or Jolted Cow (espresso ice cream with caramel swirl and brownie pieces. I hear their pistachio – especially in a milk shake – is extremely good as is their minty chip, a perennial favorite. Their dairy-free offerings include cookies and cream using almond milk, blueberry pancake using oat milk

and soft-serve vanilla with coconut cream. All these can be in the form of sundaes, shakes, floats or Ernie’s Earthquakes. Should you need something for a special occasion, Ernie’s will whip you up an ice cream cake to thrill the crowd.

Getting to Ernie’s can be a fun ride, as the roads to the north and west are entertaining – Harriman State Park, Route 17A and the area around Pine Island. Depending on where you’re coming from, a nice loop can be had with ice cream at beginning or end – or both. Two diversions very close to Ernie’s are Locomotion Powersports, literally across the street, who carries Triumph and other brands, and the Mahwah Museum, just a mile down the road. In addition to their local history exhibits, the Mahwah Museum has a miniature of Palisades Amusement Park with some other memorabilia. For someone who grew up in Cliffside Park, this is a huge time machine and brought back many great memories. You can also learn about Les Paul and his inven-

tions, who lived and had his studio in Mahwah. He and his wife, Mary Ford, had their weekly radio show from their home. Should you be a guitarist yourself, for a small donation, you can play one of Les Paul’s own guitars. And downstairs is housed the Donald Cooper Model Railroad, a wonderful multi-level display of an operating HO-Scale model railroad. Hours are sporadic, so check their web or Facebook site or give them a call.

Enjoy your visit to Ernie’s and we’ll see you on the road to our next Inside Scoop! ,

For many more years than I can remember we have made it part of our motorcycle riding lives to try to improve our two wheeled skills. Like many skills that need to be learned and nurtured, they are perishable. The great violinist Jascha Heifetz once said, “If I don’t practice one day, I know it; two days, my wife knows it; three days, the public knows it.”

I know some people who get very good, very quickly – it’s just the way their mind works and adapts to things. Shira began piano lessons last year and she is awesome with music in front of her. She sees, she does. She cooks the same way – measuring cups, exact cooking times; all that.

Me? I cook like I play guitar. I ad lib and hope for the best. I can’t read music, but I got rhythm and can tell the chords and it’ll usually work out for the best. Steve Howe from Yes once said… “Practicing scales and notes are great to warm up – but, then you gotta play”. But if I do not play for a few days, I always feel rusty for bit. The same goes with riding.

Reg and Gigi Pridmore, who run CLASS Motorcycle Riding School, have been coming east each year for decades, and for all these years we have been so fortunate to spend so much time with them. Virginia International Raceway has been almost a home away from home, and I can do every foot of this track in my head; and I do…. over and over again. But this year CLASS was unable to come east, and we feared we would maybe never get to ride under the tutelage of the ‘Grand Master’ instructor and his team.

We talk a lot about post ride discussions, much like our military pilots do. I have the advantage of having Shira to go back and forth a bit after a day’s ride. But sometimes I just talk to myself and try to constantly “call it” when I make an error. Everyone makes errors. Errors shouldn’t hurt – but should enlighten, or at least get your attention. As I have often said - we learn from our errors, but pay for our mistakes. AT CLASS what we do, did and should do while riding is a constant discussion.

How surprised were we when we got an invitation from Sir Reg and Lady Gigi to come out to California at the end of October to spend a few days with CLASS at the Streets of Willow Raceway, in Rosamond – just northeast of Los Angeles?

In the beginning we were both up for it… but a long summer spent mostly on the road, our son’s wedding in San Diego, family commitments and a late Autumn motorcycle journey through southern Spain coming up just weeks after the California CLASS gathering had Shira deciding she’d love to, but wanting to stay home for bit too.

Well, I start typing this about an hour out of LA, on an early morning flight west. Most of the flight spent watching practice of both World SuperBike and MotoGP, before I decided a few words need to be written. A quick, uneventful flight, and short cab ride and I suddenly found myself taking the fob of a 2023 BMW R1250RS from their West Coast Media Group - Thank you Motorrad.

The R12500RS is BMW’s version of a sport tourer. Powered by the same Boxer Twin engine that powers my own GS – the last time I got to ride an RS I remembered being so impressed with this machine’s superb planted feel and comfortability. This would be the perfect bike for this CLASS Reunion.

Laguna Beach

I had a plan in the back of my mind to ride down the coast and find a little out of the way bar, on the beach, grab a cheap room and hang tough with a burger, watching the sun set. Shira reminded me I was thinking the early 60s, and my mind was clouded by old beach flicks.

The truth is that a lot of the once Beach Boyish’ CalifornyiiiA coast is just a bit built up, and the chances of finding that tiny hotel is best done with reservations in advance.

I agreed and felt a charge down the coast and then east across the Ortega Highway to Lake Elsinore to a chain hotel off the highway was more realistic. But Shira found and booked a place on the southern end of Laguna Beach, right across from the ocean – it had everything I was looking for except Sandra Dee.

LA I-traffic is a bear, thank you “lane splitting”… but once on the Pacific Coast Highway I got to turn the throttle up a bit and made good time through Huntington and Newport Beach and soon parked the BMW alongside the Laguna Beach Lodge - the 2023 version of the PCH Motel. Clean, friendly, pool and Ruby’s Diner just two gears away.

Burger, milkshake, and sunset.

Now where was Gidget?

San Diego

I was on Jersey time, so I woke at 4am and waited for the sunrise this beautiful fall day with Pecco, Jorge and Marc, watching the MotoGP Sprint Race from Chang International in Thailand. Packed up I motored south for just a town or two and then headed east through San Juan Cap-

istrano and onto the Ortega Highway. California Highway 72 stretched a good distance from the Pacific Ocean to Coachella Valley – but from San Juan Capistrano to Lake Elsinore it is commonly called the Ortega; named after the Spanish Explorer Sgt. Jose Francisco Ortega, who led the scouts of the 1769 Portola Expedition – the first Europeans to ever see this part of North America. And, a stunning part it is.

The road winds up and over the mountains. Near the summit is a beautiful memorial to Fallen Firefighters – those terrible and fiery disasters that I would see more and more remnants of in this journey.

It was a weekend so I ran into a few other motorcycle riders – all of us heading to The Lookout Roadhouse, above Lake Elsinore. This place is mobbed on a Sunday, but this Saturday it still had a nice gathering of machines. The view and the breakfast were stellar and after some twowheel chit-chat with some of the other riders I got going south, and back towards the coast.

My route, made a few days earlier back in New Jersey, began to meander and one planned road that would cut up and over one of the canyons was marked… CLOSED IN 5 MILES.

Some of you know how literal I take a closed sign. But some four miles down the road the only thing to see was a military Humvee and a razor-wire fence and another sign that said Turn Around NOW.

Okay, okay. I got it. I am not sure what I rode into, but I was okay with a Plan B. I rode down into Carlsbad.

Back in 1882 a sea captain named John Frazier bought some oceanside land and went about digging a well. He tapped into an almost inex-

haustible source of high alkaline water. The water was considered to be some of the best in the world, and almost miraculous in its therapeutic value. They said this water was identical to the famous spas of Europe. Karlsbad, Germany to be specific. Sensing a good thing, Frazier started a town built around the water and named it Carlsbad after the city in Germany. He built a Victorian hotel beside his original well, andpeople came from all over the world, including at least two U.S. presidents,to enjoy the mineral water for drinking and for bathing, just as they would in the European Karlsbad. The real estate boom of the 1880s crashed, but Carlsbad’s mineral water continued to be popular until the Great Depression, when the well was abandoned because the owners lacked the funds for maintenance.

But, the waters of Carlsbad are back and the Carlsbad Alkaline Company is a booming business. I dropped by, paid some respects to the huge stature of the captain, and then filled my Camelbak up to the brim with the miracle water. God knows we all could use one now and again.

The town of Carlsbad is very cool indeed, especially their love of art that can be seen all over the town. I stopped to take in three colorful tigers that were murals across one wall.

Very nice.

Just above the town is another Carlsbad highlight – The Museum of Making

Music. Shira and I had been here a few years ago and were taken in by how much fun and interesting this museum is. It is not about the superstars we all know, but about making music itself. Any music. Anywhere. It is funded by NAMM – the National Association of Music Merchants. These are the folks that bring all the wonderful instruments to us…

The Taylors, the Martins, the Steinways of the industry. Their museum is the best - so much fun, and a return trip was a must.

Just to the south lay San Diego, and it was nice to spend an evening with my son, and then a bit of the morning with my daughter-in-law Ashley.

Lancaster, California – Willows and CLASS

After a quick morning stop to say hello to Ashley, my new daughter-inlaw, I spun north and west back into the San Gabriel Mountains, and then vectored along the long windy road toward Julian.

I had a bit of time to make, as I was meeting my friend Fred and Cherrie for lunch, and pausing at the Julian Pie Company for a sec, I almost stayed as they are known for the best apple pies and the aroma was more than a little enticing. But, summoning some sad inner strength, I motored onward. Somewhere near Temecula I spied some wild horses … and they were jumping up and over Route 79. Certainly not real flesh and blood, but rather marvelous creations of artist Robert Breceda; and a few miles down, along

the roadside were dozens more of this artist’s amazing creations. I followed the backroads, up and over the peaks, now heading east towards the high desert town of Hemet and lunch with some old friends. Fred and Cherrie Rau have been long time friends of Shira and me, and Fred was the first industry person to give Backroads a big push with an article way back in 1995 in Motorcycle Consumer News that he had helmed for many years. It was great to see them both, even for a short bit, and lunch was way too short and far too overdue.

Here come those Santa Ana winds again…

Babylon Sister – Steely Dan

I did have to get to Willow Springs, and I had ridden and talked my way into the early afternoon, with a 150-miles of backroads to go.

I picked up a mountain road that rose steadily up through deep pine forests and then I headed along the Rim of the World Highway – which is aptly named as the view from atop this road seems to go on forever.

I stopped at the Heap’s Peak Arboretum which, at 6,000, is one of the highest in the nation.

Right about here I began to feel the wind begin to pick up and riding further north what was a breeze became a bit more. I hunkered down and tried to settle into the RS while trying to stay loose and easy on the machine at the same time as getting hit by wind gusts that were bad, but nothing like the previous year when we got our asses kicked heading to Vegas.

Riding down off the mountain the winds abated and the road opened up into a long series of sweepers that I ate up gleefully.

My route brought me up and through Wrightwood and then down toward the Mojave, riding through miles of tight turns than opened onto wide vistas, much of it filled with Joshua and Pine trees, all scorched from last year’s Bobcat Wildfire. I would ride through miles of scorched Earth and then see a lone house, with live tress scattered around it.

I said a silent prayer of thanks to all those firefighters who so bravely fought to keep that lone house a home. My cousin’s son Kevin fights these. I made a note to email him, say hello and thank him.

The track would wait till the next day, but evening found me rolling into the town of Lancaster and my homebase for the next few days. It was a Backroads reunion that night as the Man, the Legend Himself… (well maybe) Mark Byers and the best hugger in the world for sure, Betsy, were already there.

Mark would be joining Class on the track as well, and it was a different and rare treat to hang with them in California for this.

Streets of Willow

Willow Springs Raceway, commonly called The Fastest Road in the West, is the nation’s oldest permanent “Road Course” in the United States, with the first race being held here in November of 1953.

The original intent was to create a replica of Indianapolis Motor Speedway, but plans changed, and several people were involved with the final layout of the big track – including Ken Miles of Ford v Ferrari fame.

Today the facility has several tracks, and we’d be using what is called The Streets of Willow – a 1.8 -mile road course.

But our CLASS reunion was planned for the next day, and this day there was something very special circulating the track – nearly 70 Moto-Cops who had all come to learn a different riding style than they were taught when they got a badge, a gun and a bike.

We sat in for most of the classroom sessions and enjoyed keeping an eye on the man, rather than them on us.

They are all stellar riders, but were even more brilliant come the day’s end. In the late afternoon another machine rolled into the paddock – my friend Vas Rallis. Vas has been a long-time friend and he and his Rock Star drummer wife, Yael, run both the OM Dome Air BnB outside Joshua Tree National Park and do some really neat motorcycle tours of Greece as well.

In fact, that is how we met Vas and his brother Bobby.

When Shira bowed out, I asked if Vas could join us, and Reg and Gigi, always the most gracious and the fastest friends we have, said absolutely.

As the sun was setting we made our way back to Lancaster, had a quick meal, and early beddy-bye – right after the second World SuperBike race, from Spain. (Ahh, sorry Toprak- sniff)

On the Track

Brave Helios, wake up your steeds

Bring the warmth the countryside needs…

The Day Begins – The Moody Blues Willow Springs sits on the edge of the Mojave Desert. Even though the daytime temperatures, on this Halloween, would reach a purely perfect 72it started out the other way, with 27 bone-chilling degrees showing on the R1250RS’ TFT screen as we headed in the pre-dawn twilight the 20 miles to the track – at highway speeds that added to the chill.

The sun cracked the eastern edge of the horizon and began to paint the mountains I had so gleefully rode a few days before with a warm golden / red hue, which quickly began to spread its way across the desert eastward, and to our two sorrowful and frosted souls.

I glanced at Sol and quoted The Moody Blues… c’mon Helios, come and warm me and Vasilios!

It was cold too; but hey…BMW’s heated grips and heated seat - butt and palms, okay – the rest of me was numb.

I have ridden with Reg and company and CLASS for many years, but this was the first time I would get to go to his school on this track –one that I had heard so much about from all the California magazines. With such low temperatures all about – track, tires, atmosphere –there was no great rush to get going, but soon enough we were doing some sighting laps around the nearly two miles that make up the Streets. I was following John Francis, one of the instructors that has always kindly and slowly, (cause I’m me) pointed out a better way around the track – no matter where it was Vas and I were in excellent hands.

We followed John’s lines, especially near the back end of the track where sight was not just limited, but not there and trust was key.

Right side of the cone – not left at turn 9 or was that 10.

When left on my own for the first lap I did my best to ride my ride, as many of the riders there – even warming up their tires - were on a far higher part of the mountain than I’ll ever get.

Right side of the cone… whenever it decided to appear. There was one second of “Frack… where’s the track?!” One second is a long time on the track. Cone appeared and I cut around the skid pad (who thought that was a good idea?) and blasted down the straight. Well, more like ambled with authority - Mark and Vas blasted. I was once told we don’t have to go fast, we just have to go far; and that is the truth, and that is why Reg Pridmore and CLASS are the best at taking street riders and getting not just faster, but smoother and - very importantly – thinking. Making a plan, and then riding that plan.

Many of the riders there were track veterans – pure sport bikes, slicks, tire warmers… oh yes, skill; and much of that learned from Reg and friends.

It was a long day, and run a bit looser than the normal CLASS days – as this was their last outing for

the season; so there was plenty of open track time.

Lunch was a provided barbeque –thank you Reg and Gigi (the real Boss – No worries, mate – I have the same type of gal and they’re awesome), and then we were back out for 30-minute sessions and then a break to discuss –debrief what was going on and what needed to be addressed, and then back onto the Streets.

There were a good number of CLASS instructors this day – familiar faces –John, Gary, Brett, Clarke and Aaron White who, after a long talk at lunch, zeroed in on me on the track with some one-on-one instruction and got my confidence to rise and my lap times to drop. Thank you Aaron! I truly miss the yearly couple of days at VIR - so getting to ride with Reg and company – even in the desert for one day was a real gift. If you ever have the chance to attend CLASS then you should jump on it and come with an open and willing mind – you will leave a far better, more confident and smoother rider. I promise.

Back to LA - Arena

I had a red-eye to catch that night from LAX back to New Jersey, so all I had to do was get the bike back to Los Angeles by the end of business hours this day.

Easy. I had a plan. In fact, I was SO sure of this plan that I added a bit more of a plan, as I wanted to visit an amazing area - Vazquez Rocks; a 1,000-acre park located in the Sierra Pelona, in northern Los Angeles Coun-

ty, California. It is known for its rock formations, the result of sedimentary layering and later seismic uplift, and they are stunning – but I came for something else.

Some 57 years earlier – November 9, 1966, or Star Date 3045.6 to be exact, a bustling crew arrived before sunrise and began preparations for what would be remembered as one of the all-time classic fights in television, certainly Star Trek, history.

This episode of Star Trek was called The Arena. It was based on a 1944 short story by Frederic Brown, and it pitted Captain Kirk against what seems to be an unbeatable foe – the lizard-like Gorn - played by stunt-actor Bobby Clark, a steady Red Shirt on the Enterprise - and we all know how that goes. Vazquez Rocks was used in Gunsmoke, Kung Fu and Buffy the Vampire Slayer – as well as Bill & Ted’s Bogus Adventure and Blazing Saddles. But, it is The Arena that everyone seems to rightly remember.

Speaking of arena – I still had a bunch of miles to go and a lot of it would be through the arena called LA traffic. I loped up the San Gabriel Mountains, riding far more smoothly and with bolstered confidence after the previous 100 or so miles of the Streets of Willow, and picked up the famed Angels’ Crest Highway at Wrightwood.

Back in February the road was closed due to slides and conditions… it was still closed but there were no signs for this until I ran into the gate some 30 miles in.

Uh, oh – Plan B, of course.

On a good note, the 30-miles back were a little different than the ones going in and I was still on an awesome machine on some of the best roads in California.

The Battle of Los Angeles was not much of note, and I easily got back to BMW and handed the key fob back to the powers-that-be with hours to spare.

Red-eye flights are an odd thing. It seems like one really long day that I started early this morning in the Mojave Desert, then rode to a battlefield on some unknown planet, punched Warp Drive to get to LA, and then closed my eyes for a second at 30,000 feet - only to finish the day right here and now.

CLASS is worth it anytime, anywhere.

The BMW R1250RS is, as Bill & Ted would say, totally rad and I got to spend almost a week wandering around on my own. It’s good for the soul. ,

Few law enforcement officers turn more heads, or get more respect in the eyes of the general population, than the cop on a motorcycle.

When the United States went from horses to cars and from small dirt roads to major interstates the police needed to evolve with the nation. Horses were replaced with the motorcycle, and to this day the motor officers always grab our respect.

Being in law enforcement is not an easy thing – the badge, weapon, and responsibility take an inner strength, a clear mindset on what is right or wrong; in addition to an inherent desire to protect the innocent.

This is hard enough in a police cruiser – it takes a bit more to do this on a motorcycle.

Still, law enforcement agencies across the United States have utilized police motorcycles as a tool to improve traffic safety and quickly respond to calls for service. Motorcycles have proven to be very effective in enforcing traffic laws by providing officers with a higher vantage point, allowing easy maneuverability through traffic congestion, and allowing officers to be less noticeable than police cars.

With all of these positive attributes, there are also several negative ones. Law enforcement is an inherently dangerous job, and officers riding motorcycles are at an even higher risk for injury.

Statistically, traffic accidents are responsible for a significant portion of law enforcement deaths as compared to felonious assaults.

It costs approximately $100,000 to hire and train a motorcycle police officer, and the average motor officer spends forty hours per week on a bike. That is a lot of time, and statistically, their chances of something bad happening to them go up with saddle time so it is important that motor officer training never really ends, but simply evolves.

This is where Reg Pridmore comes in.

For those of you who have read Backroads for some time now, you know we join Pridmore, his wife Gigi, and their incredibly talented instructors whenever we get the chance. This year our annual trek to VIR was not to be, but I was able to grab some track time with Pridmore and the crew of CLASS at the Streets of Willow, on the edge of the Mojave Desert in late October. The day before our track time, CLASS was holding a special school specifically for motor officers called MOAT – Motor Officers Advanced Training - and I was invited to sit in on the CLASS.

I had heard about Reg’s schools aimed at teaching some of the best riders on the planet to be even better, and was eager to see this and, especially, how the officers reacted to it.

You might ask, how do you make the best even better?

Well, even Carlos Santana learns some new guitar licks now and again. Motor Officers are trained to pilot their machines in traffic and congestion – usually at slower speeds. This is a very hard thing to do well, and they excel at this. But, as motor officers patrolling the mean streets, highways, and backroads of America there will be times when the speed and pace will quicken remarkably; and the skills that worked so well at a slow pace are not all that applicable when the higher speed and quicker acceleration comes into play – and that is where CLASS’ MOAT Schools truly shine.

CLASS, although held on a closed course, is not a race school – I like to call it a smooth school – Reg Pridmore’s book on the subject is titled that way - Smooth Riding the Pridmore Way.

Both Shira and I have been attending CLASS for many years now, and I know the drill… use your eyes, position your body and use it to turn, and smooth on and off the brakes and throttle.

Does that mean I have this down after all this time at CLASS? Nope, these are all perishable skills. Like playing an instrument or creating a watercolor. You must practice over and over to even start getting proficient.

We riders are all ‘works in progress’ – and so is every motor officer on a bike. The trick is for this side of law enforcement to show up at the track with an open attitude, and a mind willing to learn.

This day at Willow there were 68 motor officers from several California municipalities, and every town had paid for their guys to be in attendance. These are towns that understand that knowledge and skill are good and more knowledge and skill are even better, and they were willing to reinvest in their own – good for them.

During breaks in between track and classroom, I got a chance to chat with a

number of these officers about why they were there, and what they hoped to take away with them.

It does need to be mentioned that every one of them were in their uniforms and, mostly armed as well.

Why learn anything and not make it as real as possible – especially when you do what these officers do? Another thing of note was almost all of them had real riding gear on – not the short-sleeved shirts and tucked-in pants like Ponch & John. They were not going road racing, but they had gear that would ‘help, not hurt’ in case of an incident involving any of Newton’s Laws. To a man, they all seemed to see the positive way Reg’s words and CLASS could be used by them when on patrol and when the different situations they may be called upon to handle could benefit from learning to be, not only a stellar rider in slow traffic, but a smooth, precise and confident rider when things got fast. Good for them.

Reg holds these MOAT courses at various times during the year, and if you are a motor officer or part of a municipality that has men and women on motorcycles, you surely should consider the investment and benefit for all by having attended MOAT School with Pridmore and CLASS. Their next scheduled MOfficer Advanced Training CLASS will be May 6th at the Streets of Willow. www.classrides.com ,

Rigg geaR HuRRicane SeRieS • StyliSH, tougH, and WateRpRoof

Few things are as annoying to riders as getting finished after a day’s wet ride and finding all your stuff is damp, wet...or soaked. Soaked sucks.

Rigg Gear Hurricane Series of ADV Luggage will end that problem for good. The Rigg Hurricane Series has Tail Bags, Dual Sport Saddle Bags, Cargo & Duffel Bags and Tank Bags - all 100% waterproof, stylish and very workable on many machines, not just Adventure Bikes.

Log onto their website to see the entire series - www.nelsonrigg.com

GIVI FORTHE KAWASAKI KLR650

Last yearKawasakifinally reintroduced one of their most iconic motorcycles, the legendaryKLR650. This bike, in its two previous iterations, really made the bulk of the true Adventure segment, thanks to its reliable engine, easy maintenance and affordable price. For 2024Kawasakiintroduced the “S” version, perfectly identical to the standard model, but with a lower seat to appeal to an even broader customer base.

GIVI USAoffersa wide range of products for theKLR650, and if you wonder why “it took so long” for them to have them, consider that they had to purchase the motorcycle here in the States and send it to Italy, because this model does not meet the restrictive specs of the Euro 5 standard, therefore is not sold or available over there. Needless to say, the whole operation took a little longer than expected... but everything is finally available and in stock now! We have been using GIVI products for year – and with good reason! Check out the new KLR650 accessories and everything else at www.giviusa.com

DUNLOP TRAILMAX MISSION TIRES

Dunlop released the Trailmax Mission Tires in 2018/2019 in answer to the wide array of ADV ma chines available and their growing popularity. Having been in development for over two years, Dunlop was on to something of a game changer for 60/40 ADV tires. At the time, I owned a Super Tenere’ and started to investigate Trailmax Missions as replacements. I had Dunlop tires previ ously, albeit a different flavor and liked them as a 70/30 tire. Having tried other brands, I found them to be either too soft with a high rate of wear, noisy or both. When the Trailmax Mission tires were available I scooped up a pair. Several thousand miles later- they turned out to be the best choice for me. With well over 6000 miles on the first pair, there was plenty of rubber left on the tread block and slight cupping on the front. So impressive were these tires both on and off road, that I installed another pair without a second thought. Apparently, many others on the Yamaha threads thought the same with many reporting as much as 10k miles on theirs. Fast forward and with a new Tiger 900, there was only one choice when swapping out the OEM tires - the latest generation of Trailmax Mission tires. These tires are quiet and pro-

vide more than adequate traction off road. On road, they provide neutral handling with wraparound lugs to ensure there is no drama during turn in or when transitioning from side to side. The lugs and tread pattern pro vide additional traction off road allowing the side wall to bite. The sidewalls are stiff enough to take abuse offroad, but not so stiff they negatively affect ride quality on the pavement. Best to warm them up if you mount them yourself. Off road they provide plenty of traction in wet or dry loose dirt and on gravel. These are not full off road tires for single track/woods riding so deep mud, loam or sand requires something else if that’s where you spend all of your time. For the adventurous, sport touring type of riding these tires provide plenty of traction in most conditions with ease and no surprises. The stiffer side wall complements the suspension on most makes and the wrapped lugs provide very neutral handling at speed in the twisties. Even with a 21 inch front, I found no surprises and am more of fan than ever of this tire. The Trailmax Mission tire provides the appropriate level of trade off as a sport touring focused ADV tire. Sure more street oriented tires would be more suitable for pure sport touring. If you plan on getting your Adventure bike dirty on occasion, these are a great choice. With little compromise.

Dunlop’s Trailmax Mission tires have an aggressive tread pattern to yield traction in hard terrain, builtin rugges tread blocks which feature Staggered Step design, a step-down feature to provide rigidity in the contact patch to enhance stability and handling, wrap-around lugs on the tire’s edge to help protect the tire from sharp rocks and provide additional offroad traction, new compounds delivering the perfect balance between road and off-road performance and deliver class-leading mileage performance and deep grooves to excel in wet weather conditions and offer additional biting edges for off-road performance. The Trailmax Mission tires are tubeless, however,

if mounting on rims that require a tube (i.e., spokes) the appropriate tube may be fitted. They fit popular large and small displacement machines for Honda, Ducati, Suzuki, KTM, BMW and more. Visit their site to see availability: www.dunlopmotorcycletires.com/tire-line/mission ~ Tony Lisanti IDER ELECTRO-LUMINESCENT MOTORCYCLE JACKET

RIGHT IDEAIN PROTECTION & STYLE

The GlowRider Electro-Luminescent Motorcycle Jacket features Electro-Luminescence (EL) technology to significantly increase nighttime visibility for motorcyclists. This all-season jacket features a zip-out quilt liner, air vent zippers at chest, sleeves, upper, and lower back, micro-fiber at collar and cuffs, adjustable waist straps and sleeve snaps, pant zipper, high density back protector, CE armor at elbows and shoulders, waterproof and abrasion resistant outer shell, and map/ smartphone wrist pockets.

$299 from adaptivtech.com

BIG CITY GETAWAY

chuRchill DoWNS keNtucky DeRBy muSeum

700 ceNtRal ave, louiSville, ky 40208 churchilldowns.com

Mint Juleps. Fancy Hats. Roses. Beautiful Creatures. How many people are enthralled with the Running of the Roses – a third of what makes up a possible Triple Crown? According to my own survey, a good deal of the population will watch the Kentucky Derby and perhaps some of those will watch the Preakness, the second in the trifecta. Only if the same horse wins both will a great part of the population watch the Belmont Stakes. Given the races last about 3 minutes, it doesn’t take much time out of the day to tune in. In fact, the pomp and circumstance, mostly with the Kentucky Derby, is far greater than the race itself. I always love to watch the Derby but particularly watch the party leading up to it. I know nothing about horses or choosing winners. Like a bottle of wine, I will go with a pretty or interesting label and hope for the best. Show me a gray, dappled or other, and I will pick it every time.

daytrip ideas to get out of the daily

Because of our print schedule, we are usually in production during the weekend of the Derby. There have been times when this is not true, and we have had some great Derby gatherings, complete with fancy hats, juleps and betting. But the norm would be that I am sitting in front of the computer, with the festivities in the background. For those precious 3 minutes, I will mix up my julep, toast to the Old Kentucky Home, and cheer on the choice of the year.

When we went out to the BMW National Rally in 2022, held in Missouri, one of my requests was to visit Churchill Downs on our return home, which we did. Riding up to the gates was like entering hallowed grounds. To add to that, a beautiful bronze statue of Barbaro, the 2006 Kentucky Derby winner, is in full race form outside of those gates. When Barbaro shattered his leg in the Preakness Stakes that same year, the injuries were too great and the champion had to be euthanized. The Jacksons, his owners, chose to inter his ashes in front of the entrance, with the bronze atop them, so his admirers could pay their respects.

The Kentucky Derby Museum is tasked with preserving the history and legacy of the Race, the longest continuously-running sporting even in the country dating back to the first Derby in 1875. In 1874, Colonel Meriwether Lewis Clark Jr bought land for racetracks from his uncles John and Henry Churchill and forms the Louisville Jockey Club. One year later, on May 17, 1875, with a field of 15 horses and a viewing crowd of 10,000, Oliver Lewis rides Aristides 1.5 miles to win the first Kentucky Derby. Eight years pass and the name ‘Churchill Downs’ is first used to landmark the racetrack

and home of the Kentucky Derby. Twelve years later the famed Twin Spires are built. In 1904, the red rose becomes the official flower and the Run for the Roses (actually first coined by Bill Corum in 1925) moves forward. 1915 sees the first filly, Regret, win the Derby. Four years later, Sir Barton wins the Derby and is the first to win what would be called the Triple Crown (not used until 1930 in the New York Times) of Thoroughbred Racing, while in the span of 32 days he wins the Derby, the Preakness, the Withers and the Belmont. 1939 (a year I will toast) sees the Mint Julep crowned the official drink of the Kentucky Derby. As the years pass, the war in 1943 limits the attendance but not the grandeur, with just 65,000 and no out-of-town tickets sold and the first female jockey takes part in 1970. At the 99th running in 1973, Secretariat smashes the track record and was the first to win a Triple Crown in 25 years. Barbaro is winner in 2006 by six and a half lengths, the largest victory since 1946. In 2016 a

tiered point system was put in place to determine qualifications of the 20 horses to run, with races taking place around the country and some international tracks. 2020 has the Derby postponed until September and, for the first time, with no fans in attendance. Rich Strike takes the garland in 2022 at 80-1 odds and one of the most shocking upsets in race history.

On your visit to Churchill Downs/Kentucky Derby Museum you’ll watch a tremendous 18-minute film in a 360 degree theater that puts you in the center of the race, from foaling to the winning. Take in all the museum’s history, as well as a very informative guided track tour of Churchill Downs and celebrate your win of visiting this National Historic Site by raising your Mint Julep, served in the Derby Café and singing a round of ‘My Old Kentucky Home’. The 150th running of the Greatest Two Minutes in Sports will take place on Saturday, May 4 so get out your best headwear, polish up your silver julep cup and enjoy the festivities. , ~ Shira Kamil

Ifelt relieved as soon as we rolled away from the Dollywood-like atmosphere of the Tail of the Dragon, the Cherohala Skyway and the other famous North Carolina rides cheerily plotted on the free tourist maps handed out at every store in this part of the state. The scenery was indeed spectacular and perhaps even merited the sea of motorcycles drawn to those rides, but my novice thinking was that motorcycles set you apart from a crowd, not bury you in one.

Such was my belief as I set out on my first cross-country motorcycle trip. My traveling buddy, Steven Weinberg (aka “the Swyne”), had made twenty-five or more. Swyne rode his BMW GS 1200 down from Chicago and I rode my Triumph Bonneville T100 up from Austin. We met in Tupelo, Mississippi. Our plan was ten days of riding through the Old South.

“Hey, Johnny, what are you rebelling against?” Marlon Brando (aka Johnny Strabler): “What’ve you got?”

Rebelling against whatever you got isn’t me – at least at this stage of life. Having bought my first motorcycle at fifty-seven, I’m well beyond any rebel’s notion of bike riding. I went into it solely for the freedom of the road. A chance to escape the damnable pandemic with nothing more than what I could carry in a small tank and tail bag.

After my first 200 miles, a greater distance than I’d ever traveled on a motorcycle, I stretched my legs on the lone bench outside a rural Texas gas station. Next to me was an old-timer sporting a Yellowstone ball cap, smoking Marlboros and eyeing me with interest. Having cowboyed as a kid, I couldn’t help but comment on the Yellowstone cap. One question turned into twenty minutes of stories traded about rodeos we’d been to and cowboys we admired. After our visit we shook hands, grinned at the pleasure of

the encounter and he waved a cigarette-filled hand as I rode off. As anyone that’s done them knows, motorcycle trips are full of surprises. That first encounter foretold those that lie ahead for me.

A day later Swyne pulled up in the pouring rain to Kermit’s Soul Kitchen in Tupelo, Mississippi, where I’d been waiting for a couple of hours. After drying out over a hot meal we walked a block down the street and stopped at the bronze sign in front of the Tupelo Hardware Co. The sign noted, without hyperbole, that the course of human history was altered at that modest, little-changed vendor of sundry hardware. It’s where Elvis Presley bought his first guitar. The store was closed but George H. Booth (grandson of the founder George H. Booth) saw us carrying our motorcycle helmets and couldn’t resist unlocking the door and inviting us in. In exchange for him telling us the story of Elvis’s first guitar and everything about a hardware store thriving after ninety-five years of operation, we told him about where we’d come from and where we were headed.

We wound up not long afterwards in Stecoah, North Carolina. Stecoah hardly makes its way on to a map and residents use the next closest town to receive their mail. While parked up trying to decipher a digital map, like clockwork in the Old South, a local pulled alongside and asked if we needed help. After a friendly visit on the history of the long-closed Stecoah General Store where we’d parked, Tina asked if we’d enjoy seeing something impressive - a handmade railroad.

By now we knew to surrender to whatever the trip and good fortune

threw our way. Swyne and I followed Tina to a long driveway and the wondrous marvel that lay hidden from passing travelers behind a towering mass of greenery. Blanketing several acres was an entire railroad world in miniature. There were drawbridges over a man-made river, trestle bridges, workers’ cabins, churches, lake houses – all about 1/20th to scale. If that weren’t fantastical enough, as we strolled along in amazement, a soft voice floated down from the trees welcoming us to the Stecoah Valley Central Railroad. Searching for the unexpected welcome we spotted an elderly apparition shuffling among the treetops on the railroad’s narrow trestle bridge. Miss Nancy informed us from twenty feet in the air that although she suffered from a bit of dementia, she was going to make her way down to us. Terrified for her safety but confounded by the unorthodox scene, we waited anxiously until she one tiny step at a time traversed her way down off the bridge onto solid ground. What an entrance!

A brief stop in front of a long-abandoned general store evolved into one of the most captivating, quirky tours of a lifetime. Miss Nancy’s deceased husband together with his brother, John, had spent twenty years building the Stecoah Valley Central Railroad. They had three engines – steam, electric and coal fired – all powerful enough to pull cars loaded with twenty adults. Yet, the railroad with all its tiny houses, water towers and railyards built to perfection was intended exclusively for their family to enjoy. Only a handful of outsiders had ever been invited into that awe-inspiring labor of love. After a few gut-jarring days on dirt roads beyond Stecoah, it was Karaoke Night at the Salty Dog in Maggie Valley, North Carolina, when Swyne and I parked our bikes and wandered in. Miss Christine was sitting at the table across from us in a Sand, Sun & Fun t-shirt out of place in the mountains of North Carolina. When the DJ pleaded with her to sing a song she slowly made her way to the tiny stage under the beer posters and neon lights. The music started and when she let loose a dam of emotion broke as she poured out the most powerful, heartfelt rendition of “When a Man Loves a Woman”. She was crying and singing and all of us in that smoky bar were transfixed by her and that song.

When she finished and passed our table we couldn’t help but acknowledge how deeply moving that was. Her eyes were filled with wet mascara and sadness. “He loved that song. My baby was a Navy Seal when he was killed. He didn’t come home often be-

cause he couldn’t and I’ll never get over that I didn’t have the chance to tell him one last time how much I loved him.” A tear-stained song in a small-town bar laid bare the loss of a hometown hero and the depth of a mother’s longing and love.

The Swyne and I parted ways in Asheville in the dim light before dawn, him headed for Chicago and me back to Austin. Eight hundred miles later, barreling through Arkansas, I encountered an unexpected attraction. It stood just beyond the lone gas station in the town of 447 souls, mostly obscured by another of the countless Missionary Baptist Church signs marking southern backroads. There read a wrought iron marker – Kingsland, Arkansas - Birthplace of Johnny Cash. I had to stop no matter how close I was to the Texas border and the comfort of home. The world inside the remote Kingsland gas station halted when I strolled in dirty and tired, all eyes upon the foreigner on a motorcycle. I inquired of the woman serving fried food only southerners can appreciate where I might find Mr. Cash’s childhood home. Before she could answer, a patron eating catfish and okra hollered from the communal dining table, “There’s no Cash home left. Eaten up by the woods a long time ago. But, hey, see that guy out there putting diesel in his Jeep, that’s Johnny’s cousin. Go talk to him.” I walked out to the diesel pumps and introduced myself to Mr. Rivers.

“Mr. Rivers, they told me you’re Johnny Cash’s cousin.”

“Yessir, I’m JR’s first cousin. You know, Johnny Cash was a man I didn’t even know. He was always just JR to me and us folks back in Kingsland.”

What followed was the unexpected gift of a half hour full of tales about growing up with JR. I’d earlier visited the sprawling shrine that was Elvis’s birthplace; but, nothing compared to the unvarnished, intimate tales told by the first cousin of one of my musical heroes when he was simply ‘JR’.

“JR came home one time when he was struggling with addiction. I was just twelve and asked him if he needed to take those pills to be Johnny Cash. He opened up a bottle, threw all the pills it contained in our fishing hole and said ‘I hope not’. Then he said, ‘Mark, come back and catch those fish cause there’s going to be some that’ll put up a helluva fight after what I just fed them.’

Next time he was home I told him, ‘JR, there was some bream in that hole that’d pull your arm off!’”

Mark put the cap back on his Mahindra Jeep, admonished me for not knowing what a Mahindra was, went inside, paid, said “God bless” to his friends eating catfish and set on his way.

Barely ten miles down the road I passed “Big Ben’s Salvage” on the outskirts of

Fordyce. By now I was in a real hurry and my first instinct was to keep riding. But there was that alluring sign on the gate warning: “DANGER: Ninjas and Pirates and Lasers and Sh!t”. I turned around.

I wandered past the most eclectic collection of old cars, abandoned refrigerators and deserted school buses into the office expecting to find a grizzled, eighty-year-old known locally as “Big Ben”. Instead, I found Todd and Benny Roark.

Todd and Benny were trading stories with a friend reclining in an ancient barber shop chair amid a sea of oddities – spare tires, radioactive waste and peace signs, stuffed mountain goats, gumball machines, Mardi Gras masks and hand sanitizer. It didn’t take long to realize they weren’t your typical salvage yard empresarios. Not a subject came up they couldn’t go on about at great length and with intimate knowledge.

Todd asked if the nondescript camera around my neck was a Leica. How would someone collecting the discarded for a living know that? “My dad shot Leica cameras in Alaska.” When I mentioned I was from Austin he pulled tickets off the printer and told me he was headed to Gruene Hall next week (a music joint forty miles down the road from Austin). “Have you ever been to the Handbuilt Motorcycle show in Austin?” I’ve only heard of it but Todd had been several times. He knew the motorcycle scene in my hometown better than me.

After waxing lyrical about Triumph motorcycles, St. Croix fishing rods (the brand I was carrying) and Hasselblad cameras, Benny, a passionate fisherman, said “That YETI film about your son catching the record bass on Lady Bird Lake . . . yep, I’ve seen that.” By that point, that he’d seen a film about my son was anything but a surprise.

“Are you going to Hope, Arkansas?”

“Yessir, that’s my next stop.”

“You know that’s where Paul Klipsch started Klipsch speakers.” No, I didn’t know that.

“Mr. Klipsch had a way of calling bullshit on just about everything. He’d sit in church and if the minister was preaching about something he didn’t agree with he’d wave his hands like this and mutter, ‘Bullshit!’” Todd chuckled, thought about it and magically pulled from under a mound of scraps on his desk a bright yellow button that read “Bullshit!” I wear it on my motorcycle jacket to this day.

Todd and Benny, the Oracles of Fordyce, educated me on every topic we brought up over the course of an hour. They also shattered my expectations of who I’d encounter in a rural Arkansas junkyard.

John Langmore is photographer based in Austin, Texas. He is the author of two books of photography: Open Range – America’s Big-Outfit Cowboy (Twin Palms Publishers) and Fault Lines – Portraits of East Austin (Trinity University Press) and the co-director/producer of the documentary film, Cowboys – a documentary portrait. John still rides his Triumph Bonneville.

Heading north out of my driveway two weeks earlier, I hadn’t given any thought at all to who I might meet along the way. In fact, I assumed it would be hardly anyone other than the Swyne. I’m not sure whether it’s the mythology of the bikerider, the vulnerability of people willing to travel exposed to the elements, or perhaps merely an admiration of beautiful machinery, but hardly a single stop failed to produce an encounter with someone irresistibly drawn to a traveler venturing out on two wheels. The revelation of that first trip was not the exhilaration of the ride itself, as I originally anticipated, but instead, the vast, colorful collection of human encounters riding motorcycles inevitably inspires along the way. ,

Motorcycle Overload in Sin City

words + images:

Dan Bisbee

The glitz and glamour of Las Vegas made it the perfect location for the 2024 Mecum Vintage and Antique Motorcycle Auction. When some friends suggested going to the auction, I jumped at the chance and we spent four glorious days immersed in motorcycles. This was the first time I had been to this type of auction. While I had registered as a bidder, I had no intention of buying a bike. I was just there to take it all in.

There were around 1600 bikes to be sold over four days. Each bike was wheeled up the ramp and took a spin on the turntable and then wheeled off while the auctioneer, sounding like a two-stroke on high idle, rattled off the asking price and invariably slamming down his gavel. SOLD! And the next bike was rolled up. Just the logistics of it were fun to watch.

After getting a feel for the auction we headed to the corral, a huge open area where all the bikes were parked before crossing the stage to their new owners. This is where motorcycle overload set in. So many bikes, so many marques. Alphabetically they ranged from Adler to Zundapp. The oldest bike was a 1904 Mitchell. There were seven Captain America replica motorcycles from the 1969 movie Easy Rider. Ever hear of a Scott Flying Squirrel? There were four of them – as well as a Super Squirrel. How about a Rumi? A 1952 Rumi Gobetto sold for $41,800.

Like Las Vegas itself, it would be difficult to describe the entire auction so here are a few of my observations:

The Honda CB750 is one of the most important motorcycles of the 20th century, ushering in large displacement reliable machinery. Its transverse

mounted air cooled in-line four became the basis for the Universal Japanese Motorcycle. At this auction there were 47 examples. They sold anywhere from $330.00 to $22,000.00

In this world of ever-tightening vehicle emissions, smoke spewing twostrokes were in high demand. Kawasaki’s 750cc Mach IVs were bringing $30,000 to $50,000 while the 500cc models were selling in the $25,000 range. Yamaha RD350s and 400s were in the $6,000 to $9,000 range and RZ350s were selling for close to $20,000.

Honda Mini-Trail 50s were also selling for good money, with several selling in the $5000 range. One Mini-Trail had a Honda CB350 four-cylinder engine stuffed into its frame and sold for $3,300.

A 1914 Henderson with an in-line four engine practically took my breath away. It was stunning from its acetylene headlight to the spectacular chrome-plated engine. Bring it to your local bike show and you will receive the Best of Show award. The selling price took my breath away as well, selling for $148,500.

My personal favorite was a 1918 Pierce Aerothrust Conversion Cushion Frame. This had a bicycle frame, wooden wheels, and a full suspension Pierce Chassis. Propulsion was from an opposed twin engine mounted above the rear wheel running a rear facing wooden propeller.

I’m a fan. A big fan.

A

few other bikes:

A 1994 Harley Davidson VR1000 sold for $129,250.

Jared Mees championship 2018 Indian Scout Sold for $137,500.

A 1977 Maico Sidewinder, used in the film Sidewinder 1, sold for $7,700. This is the last remaining bike from the 1977 movie. There was a highly customized Harley built to look like a 1913 but with an Evolution Sportster engine. Really cool looking bike but, at a bid of $20,000, it did not sell.

Continued on Page 47

phillip’S muShRoom muSeum

1020 kaoliN RoaD, keNNett SquaRe, pa 19348 610-444-2192 • www.thewoodlandsatphillips.com/

Mushrooms – the Food of the Gods. They have been around for far longer than we have – truly some of the oldest living things on Earth. Some mushrooms simply taste delicious, while others have mind-altering effects that have made them part of spiritual rituals. Thatwas already experienced by early humans; various depictions of mushrooms have been found in cave paintings.

For the Egyptians, mushrooms were the “Food of the Gods.” They believed that eating them could help them live longer — or even make them immortal.

The Greeks drank ergot mushrooms during certain ceremonies and reported seeing visions and ghostly apparitions.

Here at Backroads Central, we know that the first week of May we’ll have a couple dozen Morel Mushrooms coming up along the forest line. They seem especially good with pizza and pesto.

Like many foods that we are so used to having at shelf’s reach at the supermarket… but where do they all come from?

Chances are they came from one county in Pennsyl vania, and around one town in particular. Kennett Square is a small town in Chester County, and it sits in the heart of the lush Brandywine Valley. It may have a popula tion of less than 6,000, but in the fungi-farming world, it’s a force with which to be reckoned.

More than half of the mushroom crop in the Unit ed States comes out of this one area, which proud ly calls itself the “Mushroom Capital of the World.”

Every September, more than 100,000 visitors flock here for the annual Mushroom Festival and on New Year’s Eve, locals drop a 500-pound metallic ‘shroom instead of a ball. Since 1927, the Phillips family has been in the mushroom-growing business, and the amount of mushrooms this company produces each year is staggering. Fifty-seven million pounds of mushrooms! Every year.

While the bulk of their 57-million-pound annual crop is the usual white buttons and portobellos, they also stock less common varieties such as maitakes and lion’s manes. They are a busy company for sure, so seeing how all this is done is not feasible, as unlike corn and wheat and everything else, all these fungi are grown indoors.

But there is a small museum that is well worth taking time to seek out.

The Woodlands at Phillips Mushroom Farms – better known as the Mushroom Museum.

It started as a shop where locals and travelers could buy a wide variety of mushrooms and mushroom products… dried, jarred, and specialty mushrooms to Chester County. The store and museum are located in the heart of Mushroom Country,

and they offer a wide array of culinary delights and curated goods. The store is based out of an original 1828 farmhouse that was acquired by the Phillips Family in 1890.

Right next door you will find exhibits on how and why this region has become the ‘Mushroom Capital’ and the different varieties that they produce. The growing exhibit will teach you about growing fresh mushrooms and the rich local history of the Chester County Mushroom Industry.

The best part is arguably the gift shop, which sells dried porcini, trumpet, oyster, and other mushrooms by the pound. There are also specialty teas, marinated mushrooms, and mushroom coffees, not to mention all sorts of soups, swag, and prepared condiments.

We certainly brought home a few bags of their more exotic mushrooms –and all got put to good use.

As we mentioned the town of Kennett Square is totally into its famous mushrooms. This year’s Mushroom Festival will be held the weekend of September 7 & 8th, and you can find out more information on this event at their website: mushroomfestival.org

motoRcycle oveRloaD

Continued from Page 45

A 1938 Brough Superior with a sidecar was bid up to $200,000 and still did not meet the buyer’s reserve asking price. Another highly customized bike had two V-Twin engines in it with a huge stretched out frame that sold for $9,900.

The most expensive bike of the weekend was a 1928 Indian Ace with an inline four-cylinder engine. It sold for $220,000

One category that seemed to be falling out of favor with collectors was British bikes. A 1971 Triumph T120 with a sidecar sold for $2,750. A 1936 Triumph T80 sold for $12,100. A 1956 BSA Gold star sold for $5,500. I can’t help but wonder if Triumph’s Modern Classics are depressing demand for the true classics.

It wouldn’t be an auction without a little bit of controversy and there was some surrounding a pristine 1974 Kawasaki Z2 750RS. This rare Japan-only motorcycle sold for $85,000. But then questions arose with regards to a possibly altered VIN. The bike no longer shows up on Mecum’s website. This may have been my first visit to Las Vegas for a motorcycle auction, but I plan to come back next year. I hear there might be other stuff to do in Las Vegas too. , www.mecum.com

The Law Office of Paul Gargiulo, P.C. presents

Welcome to the Jungle - The Art of Learning to Ride Skillfully

A column dedicated to your riding survival

pRe-Flight checkliSt

In aviation, a preflight checklist is a list of tasks that should be performed by pilots and aircrew before takeoff. Its purpose is to improve flight safety by ensuring that no important tasks are forgotten. Failure to correctly conduct a preflight check using a checklist is a major contributing factor to aircraft accidents.

Aviation lore says the concept of a pre-flight checklist was first introduced by management and engineers at the Boeing Company following the 1935 crash of the prototype Boeing B-17 (then known as the Model 299) at Wright Field in Dayton, Ohio, killing both pilots. The investigation found that the pilots had forgotten to disengage the crucial gust locks (devices that stop control surfaces moving in the wind while parked) prior to take-off.

You see this often in movies and TV but trust us, what you see is a very abbreviated sample of what is routine to aviators.

The Motorcycle Safety Foundation has its own pre-flight list as well -the T-Clocks. This stands for Tires, Controls, Lights, Oil, Chassis, and Stands. In truth, it goes deeper than just the stated, but just the acronym swimming around in your noggin’ should get you looking at your ride. It certainly makes sense to get into a routine of making sure your ride is in good working order, and all is ship-shape.

I am sure there must be some small things, simply a convenience, that you feel that you must have or that are required while you are on the road. Sure, you have the bike and the correct gear – but it can be other, little things, that you might not even know you need - until you need them. My list on this goes deep.

Most of us have dealt with Christmas Light Gnomes – the little bastards that tangle up your tree lights somewhere between Valentine’s Day and Thanksgiving; but on their “off-season” they seem to spend their time going into the various motorcycles and removing the little things that I know should be there.

I have a lot of peripheral items – nice to have but not super necessary. Backroads stickers and cards, an old but still powerful copy of the U.S. Constitution, my barn door opener, some guitar picks & small capo, those sunglasses I lost early last winter, along with my “Lucky” condom I have had since I was 13. (Good times old fella, right? Well, maybe not) But there are some things that I really feel I should have along for the ride whether it is a short day-trip or a few weeks on the road; and here are some in no particular order.

A working charging cable for my phone. Keeping 100% charge on your phone is important these days, and can make a big difference if The Bad happens. A Kershaw knife, two flashlights, a tube of Blistex. In one side pocket I know there will be a foil pack of Loratadine allergy pills handy for that errant cloud of pollen that will follow me around like Pig Pen’s cloud. I always ride with a Camelbak. Chap lips, itchy eyes, and thirsty is no way to ride a motorcycle.

My saddlebags have a bunch of tools (scientifically designated a Shit Load), along with Brian’s Bags of Tricks (much like Felix’s only better), as well as my heated gear, MotoPump, Stop & Go tire repair kit, and various battery packs – from motorcycle to Bluetooth ready.

Yes, I do carry a lot – and like Don Corleone, someday - and that day may never come - I might call upon any of these to do a service for me, or not.

The point is that there are Major Pre-Flight Lists and Minor Pre-Flight Lists. Major is called Major for a reason, but sometimes it is the little minor things that can set a ride’s standard.

Like Santa – make a list and check it twice! ,