WEBSLINGER
EAT, SLEEP, RIDE, REPEAT I
hadn’t been on a nice, long, solo soul-affirming ride in a few years. I was in dire need of one too, as I had a bunch of things causing trouble in my head that needed to be worked out. So when the fine folks at Indian Motorcycle offered the use of a Chieftain Dark Horse to ride from the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally over to the Bonneville Salt Flats then homeward to Southern California, I couldn’t reply, “Hell yes,” quick enough. It was a 2,000-mile journey filled with many “firsts” for me. I had amazingly never been to the Bonneville Salt Flats or to the famous “Speed Week.” This was going to be extra special as Lee Munro, great-nephew of Burt Munro, was to pay tribute to Burt’s land-speed record on its 50th anniversary. Lee was to be riding a lightly modified Indian Scout named the “Spirit of Munro.” Another first for me was that I would ride through Yellowstone National Park en route to Utah and the Salt Flats. I took off from Sturgis, South Dakota, early one morning and headed right into some hailstorms. The heavens cleared up as I got near Yellowstone. It was divine timing. Nothing beats riding a wellrunning motorcycle through some of
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nature’s most beautiful wilderness. As I flowed with each turn and undulation of the highway, I became one with the motorcycle. Part endorphins and part because of the Chieftain’s stellar riding chassis, I felt like I was riding on a small cloud through a wonderland. I felt the troubles in my mind start to vanish as I just lived in the moment. I stopped at Old Faithful long enough to watch it do its thing, much to the delight of hundreds of spectators. I felt a little sorry for these people, as I imagined they weren’t getting the same experience as myself riding a motorcycle through Yellowstone. There’s an old saying that goes something like this: “Traveling in a car is like watching a movie. Riding a motorcycle is like being in it.” The next day I made my way from just outside of Yellowstone to Wendover, Utah, and the Salt Flats. While the scenery was not as spectacular, the miles and solitude gave me plenty of time to chill my brain and recharge myself. Interstate 80 that runs west from Salt Lake City to Wendover might just be one of the most surreal stretches of highway in the entire country. It runs straight as an arrow for more than 100 miles through moon-like
ED SUBIAS
ONLINE EDITOR
ED.SUBIAS@BONNIERCORP.COM @EDSUBIAS #BROWNBEARRACING
terrain. It’s so relaxing that there are signs warning against falling asleep and urge you to pull over if you are tired. I definitely woke up when I arrived at the hallowed Bonneville Salt Flats. What I had only seen in movies and photographs could not do justice to the vast, white, crusty surface that stretched as far as I could see. Breathtaking is a perfect description. The following day among the racecars, motorcycles, and exhaust fumes in the pits, I got goose bumps. I shuffled over to the starting line where Lee Munro was to take his first run of the week. It would also be the opening run for the entire Speed Week. The Indian Scout roared to life with authority, and Lee eased it up to speed and out of its tall first gear. I could see him gaining bullet-like speed as he disappeared out of sight, which was a few miles away. Wow—this Bonneville stuff was amazing. On my ride home back to Southern California, it was such a desolate stretch of highway that I wasn’t even worried about the things that were troubling my mind a week earlier. I’m thankful motorcycles have a way of doing that. HB
