HAWAII TO ELIMINATE ETHANOL IN GASOLINE
Legislation to repeal the requirement that gasoline offered for sale in Hawaii contain a percentage of ethanol was signed into law by Governor David Ige, and the new law becomes effective December 31, 2015.

The law recognizes that the requirement of blending ethanol into gasoline does not produce any economic benefit for the state and the import of ethanol creates an economic burden for state residents. Ethanol increases water formation, which can then corrode metals and dissolve plastics and rubber, especially over a period of time when the vehicle is not used. Current high-performance specialty parts along with pre-model-year ’01 cars and parts may be most susceptible to corrosion, and no motorcycles or ATVs are approved for higher blended fuels. The lifespan of vehicles and equipment can be dramatically reduced with the wrong fuel, and owners could be confronted with breakdowns.

More than a dozen states have ethanol mandates, according to the National Conference of State Legislatures, but only Hawaii and Florida have passed such a repeal. Florida ended its mandate in 2013, the same year the Environmental Protection Agency proposed reducing the amount of ethanol in fuel, acknowledging that a federal push wasn’t working as well as expected.


CALIFORNIA REQUIRES MOTORCYCLISTS TO REMOVE HELMET FOR TRAFFIC STOPS
Known as the “Identity Confirmation Act,” Assembly Bill 346 will require a motorist to give law enforcement an unobstructed view of their face during a traffic stop, said California Assemblymember Scott Wilk (R-Santa Clarita), author of the measure which primarily targets motorcycle riders.

The Facial ID bill was inspired by a Simi Valley, CA police officer who told the assemblyman about having cases thrown out of court because he couldn’t positively identify someone, Wilk told the Simi Valley Acorn, specifically relating the case of a motorcyclist who refused to remove their helmet.

Wilk admitted to the paper that motorists are compliant 99% of the time, and currently if a driver refuses to show their face during a traffic stop, police can arrest them for resisting or delaying an officer, and can result in going to jail until they can go before a judge.

“From an ‘identification’ legal view, all citizens are required to prove their identity when asked by law enforcement,” said Chuck Pedersen, State Legislative Director for ABATE of California. “From a helmet ticket defense, an officer cannot ask for you to remove your helmet for the purpose of inspection. I don’t see a need for this additional legislation.”


HANDLEBAR HEIGHT LIMIT REPEALED IN SOUTH DAKOTA
Just in time for the 75th Sturgis Rally, starting July 1st, ape-hangers are now legal in South Dakota. The $20 fine for riding with your hands too high was wiped off the books as Governor Dennis Daugaard signed Senate Bill 85, effectively abolishing South Dakota codified law that prohibited such handlebars.

 EARPLUGS BENEFICIAL, BUT ILLEGAL FOR OHIO MOTORCYCLISTS
Ohio’s motorcycle operator manual says hearing protection, like earplugs, can help reduce noise while allowing a rider to hear important sounds like horns or sirens, but it also says riders should adhere to state laws, which creates a problem: using earplugs in Ohio while operating a vehicle is illegal. There are exceptions for emergency personnel, or road workers, and even for people who wear hearing aids…but not for motorcyclists.

It isn’t the sound of the motorcycle causing all the noise; “It’s the wind noise that can cause permanent hearing loss,” explains A.I.M. Attorney Ralph C. Buss, who has represented the interests of motorcycle riders for over 30 years. “Deafness is a serious problem that people don’t think about, don’t address,” Buss said in an interview with WCPN public radio in Cleveland.

Attorney Buss challenged that law in court. His client: Tom Varsel, who happened to be a retired noise expert for GM who was pulled over for riding his motorcycle in Ohio while wearing earplugs. Varsel was fined $37, but his case continued to an appellate court. He lost a constitutional challenge to the earplug law, but the case raised interesting issues of health and safety that the court ruled were matters for the legislature to address.

“What’s clear is that wind noise on a motorcycle can be very intense, intense enough to damage your hearing,” says Eric Healy, a professor of hearing science at the Ohio State University who testified in Varsel’s case. “And what’s also crystal clear is that earplugs can remedy that, almost completely.”

To determine the level of wind noise motorcyclists face, Healy took a recording device for a drive with PhD students. Imagine a mannequin head with anatomically correct ears, stuck out a window, and the measurements recorded from that experiment, Healy says, matched previous work published in well-known British journals in the mid 1990s. He found that at speeds as low as 35 mph, wind noise exceeded 85 decibels.

“Sounds over that are known to cause hearing damage. The levels that we measured were in the range from 110 to 130db,” Healy told WCPN radio host Tony Ganzer. Even helmets don’t prevent the wind noise, though earplugs offering some 30db of potential reduction, might help.

But the wording of the law in Ohio and other states, which dates back to 1989 and was enacted largely in response to stereo headphones in cars, doesn’t allow earplugs to be worn by motorcyclists or motorists.

A similar law in California, which allowed only for “custom earplugs,” was amended in 2004, allowing individuals to wear earplugs that don’t block the sounds of horns or emergency sirens. Under exceptions to their Headphone and Earplug law, it was added (V C Section 27400):

ILLINOIS LIGHTS IT UP
A bill in Illinois to legalize accent lighting on motorcycles passed unanimously through the legislative process and on June 18 was sent to the Governor.

HB3944: Amends the Illinois Vehicle Code to provide that a motorcycle may be equipped with auxiliary accent lights, including standard bulb running lights and light emitting diode pods and strips. Provides that the auxiliary accent lights shall not be red or white or oscillating, rotating, or flashing lights. Defines “auxiliary accent light”.

(a) A motorcycle may be equipped with any number of auxiliary accent lights, including standard bulb running lights and light emitting diode pods and strips of various colors.
(b) The auxiliary accent lights allowed under subsection (a) of this Section shall not be red or white or oscillating, rotating, or flashing lights.
(c) For the purposes of this Section, “auxiliary accent light” means any lighted lamp or illuminating device placed upon a motorcycle, other than head lamps, spot lamps, auxiliary driving lamps, signal lamps, or hazard warning lamps.

“Accent lighting are the small colored lights tucked in on the underside of motorcycle gas tanks and frames,” explains ABATE of Illinois on their website (www.ABATE-IL.org), which supports the measure. “We are looking at legalizing them to be operating while the bike is in motion. They do not interfere with operator eyesight and will actually help in the reduction of bikers being ‘T-Boned’ at night with the extra lighting which will reduce Fatalities and Deaths. The bill increases visibility of motorcycles, especially at night.”

Unlike automobiles and light trucks which are required to have side marker lights or wrap around headlights / tail lights which are visible from the side, motorcycle lights are often only visible from the front and rear and do not have the same illumination as automobiles. NHTSA published a report on the effectiveness of side marker lights on motor vehicles, concluding that side marker lights are a cost effective safety device which reduce the number of nighttime angular collisions that occur in the United States.


SPREADING MOTORCYCLE AWARENESS
Nate Hudson, co-owner of “British-American Motorcycle Club”, a bike shop in Long Beach, California, is currently in the middle of a 17,000-mile ride all over the U.S. to spread a motorcycle safety message for riders and awareness from car drivers. He visits the Department Of Motor Vehicles office in every state’s capital, where he hand delivers a request that the authorities consider including motorcycle awareness in both the driver’s license exam and the state’s drivers’ education curriculum.

Hudson’s journey is being sponsored by Allstate Insurance Company, and he’s riding a tricked out Indian Roadmaster donated by Indian Motorcycle painted in Allstate blue with logo and trim. So any photo of his bike, therefore, becomes a social-media ad for Allstate.

PAKISTANI POLICE EXEMPT FEMALE PASSENGERS FROM WEARING HELMETS
Reacting to public protests over a traffic regulation in which it was made mandatory for motorcycle riders as well as pillions (passengers) to wear a helmet, including women, police in Karachi have announced exempting female pillion riders from wearing a helmet.

Inspector General (IG) Sindh Police, Ghulam Haider Jamali announced here on June 10 that the decision was made after the repeated appeals of citizens. In an earlier statement, the police said in case of riding pillion without helmets, both will be fined, regardless of whether the pillion is male or female.

 
SURVEY REVEALS RIDERS’ PET PEEVES
In an online survey of motorcyclists conducted in June by Erie Insurance, nationwide respondents were asked to share their top five pet peeves about both other motorcycle riders and car drivers:

Top Five Complaints About Fellow Riders: #1: Riding Recklessly (ie: speeding, weaving through traffic, doing wheelies) – 56%; #2: Passing on the Shoulder – 41%; #3: Lane Splitting – 36%; #4: Wearing shorts, sandals, tank tops, etc – 35%; #5: Riders who don’t wear helmets – 28%.

Top Five Complaints About Vehicle Drivers: #1: Drivers who don’t check their blind spots before changing lanes – 55%; #2: Texting while driving – 53%; #3: Reckless Driving (i.e., speeding, weaving in and out of traffic) – 50%; #4: Drivers who tailgate – 43%; #5: Not signaling when turning or changing lanes – 42%.

QUOTABLE QUOTE: “Be as beneficent as the sun or the sea, but if your rights as a rational being are trenched on, die on the first inch of your territory.”

SMOKE OUT 16, THE RIDE HOME—There’s a buzz in the industry. We are entering a new world of custom motorcycle upheaval. It flies under the blistering Banner of Cycle Zombies, Brat Style, the Smoke Out, Born Free, The Race of Gentlemen, Bonneville Speed Trials, Suicide Machine, Speed Monkeys, LowBrow, Pat Patterson, Jeff Cochran, or you name it. It’s happening, it’s vibrant, it’s vintage, and it’s a blast.

I’m caught in numerous conversations, analyzing trends, looking for clues, marketing numbers, and guiding lights to Chopper financial nirvana. Hell, I just see it as guys having a blast, calling themselves by names from ‘50s tattoos, like Cycle Zombies, Born Free and then running amuck.

It’s different and better in many respects. In the ‘60s and ‘70s, it was wild and untamed. Any visit to a shop could end up in a fight. Any party could end in a brawl, way too much whiskey, and women were just as wild. A razor sharp edge permeated everything. We were outlaws.

It’s all different now. It’s about the machines and when it comes to the Smoke Out, it’s all about the ride. I just returned from the east coast and the ride from Charleston, SC to Myrtle Beach, and then north into woodsy North Carolina. Some 55 guys rode the notorious Stampede, cross-country blaze this year and some 38 made it across 2,800 miles at breakneck speeds. “I averaged 77 mph,” Brian said, challenging the effort with a 250 cc bike, just to see if it could handle it. He’s a Mopar and diesel mechanic. He could build an Evo with a 10-gallon gas tank and blast across the country none stop, but no… he needed to challenge his mechanical abilities and a dinky machine over almost 3000 miles in a couple of days.

I’ll get back to the Stampede and the Long Road contingent. A flashy portion of the raucous Smoke Out agenda included: drag races, new drifting trike races, mini-bike championships, nitro bike runs, wild bands like Cutthroat and Rebel Son, pinstriping classes by Julian Rossi, wet T-shirt contests, and the maraschino cherries marinated in white-lightening in the campgrounds.

There are amateur chop-offs, Hard Knocks Custom Bikes, Roller Derby with the Columbia, SC Regulators, Anvil Toss, which I failed at, and Painted Lady Contest, which I wasn’t invited back to (something about how I touched the girl last year). The Chili Pepper Eating contest lit up the stage, the big bike show sizzled in the heat with over 85 bikes, and more music on the main stage from Skye Page, Phillip Roebuck and the Koffin Kats. Of course the late night action included Costume Karaoke and just the right amount of whiskey.

When I first dropped out of the sky from LA and arrived in smoldering, humidity-laced Charleston, stories started flying from the law enforcement side. Rich Worley, the boss of American Biker, the Indian dealer in Charleston and the builder of my custom 2014 Indian recently had two trailers stolen out of his open, but camera-covered yard.

A couple weeks later one was returned, and Rich knew who stole the other one. They had his address and documented surveillance of the crime, but the cops were too busy to pursue it—amazing. The Boss of the Smoke Out, retired Army, checked his constantly fluctuating list and discovered his head of security, who owned a carry permit in his state, mistakenly crossed the iron border into New York State where he was pulled over. When asked about weapons, he offered his permit, which wasn’t recognized in New York and he was given 6 months in jail. Incredible, so the head of security was out of the picture.

About this time the cops shot and killed several bikers in Waco, but fortunately it didn’t have any impact on the Smoke Out. Local cops worked closely with Edge and his team. He had a trailer stolen before Sturgis last year. When he returned from Sturgis, the trailer was back with new tires and a freshly painted tongue.

Michael Lichter, the official photographer of the Smoke Out, also encountered a frustrating glitch with law enforcement while trying to rent a Daytona condo for the rally. It turned out to be a scam, but when he let the cops know, they weren’t interested in protecting travelers.

A strange authoritarian cloud shaded the blistering sun as I straddled my Indian for the first time and attempted a stumbling test ride around the massive part gravel-strewn American Biker parking area. (His shop is very sharp and well laid out. Rich has a knack for classic retro interior design. He built his office out of railroad car wooden slats.) I thought the Smoke Out might take on a cop-riddled character, but after the first couple of days, the law enforcement issue never surfaced again.

What did surface was the bustling excitement the Smoke Out generates. On our way to the first party we took a complete tour of the heat wave attacked Naval Weapons station outside Charleston adjacent to the Charleston Port and a tour of the massive harbor area in a very fast outboard-driven pontoon skiff. The captain told us about the new shipment of air-conditioned skiffs to be deliver the very next day and about his new orders to Italy, the lucky bastard, as we cruised alongside the historic USS Yorktown aircraft carrier.

We grabbed our bikes and took off for Suck, Bang, and Blow, a hot spot in Myrtle Beach just off the main thoroughfare, lined with soft slippery sandy gutters, grass and giant snarling T-shirt selling stucco Sharks. The party started.

My 2014, new-to-me Indian Classic ran like a top with just modified exhaust and the S&S super-flow air cleaner. Rich and his team reshaped the rear fender, lowered the rear, and modified the stock bars to match factory bars from 1946. We stripped off anything unnecessary, including crash bars. The bike ran and handled like a top. Hell, even the mechanic complimented Indian designers with building a solid motorcycle with serious thought in the construction and maintenance side. It’s easy to work on and built to last.

As soon as we arrived at the party spot, I met a couple of Smoke Out Stampede competitors. The rapid-fire schedule called for a Military-Service SmokeOut Rider party Wednesday night and a Long Road party Thursday night. Stampede riders Mike Barnett and Eric stood in the blistering parking lot and swapped stories of blowing up a Buell in Vegas, and scrambling to be back on the road within 24 hours. The steamy Buell overheated, stuck a valve, punched a piston, and bent a pushrod in the Nevada desert.

Charlie rode the Stampede cross-country race 10 years in a row, abusing his body hard annually to make the final cut to the SmokeOut. It’s the brotherhood of the Caffeine Camaraderie. There’s not a tighter group of riders in the world, although the Cannonball contingent comes close.

Some of these guys strapped gear on their beat-up bikes jamming west to the undisclosed starting point on the coast, screamed east to the Atlantic at Myrtle Beach, and then north to the finale at the Smoke Out. A handful of the speed freaks planned to relax, drink a couple of cases of beer over the weekend, snort white-lightening, and then straddle their putts for the jam back across the country for Born Free in California. Holy shit, Buckwheat.

I met Dave who is a grandpa and survived eight Stampede runs. He rode four Stampedes on a ’66 Shovelhead and now rides an 82-inch Evo rigid with a Baker 6-speed. “In ’07 while entering Oklahoma I noticed my carb jiggling. My whole front cylinder lifted off the case.”

Charlie, the last year Stampede organizer out of Arizona, rides as ’74 Z-900 pumped to 1050. “It’s all about making it from point A to point B as fast as humanly possible. Peeling through 1000 miles in a day is easy.” They totaled 2815 miles this year.

Behind the scenes, a handful of brothers are planning a similar run next year, but it won’t be connected to the Smoke Out. It will take on a behind-the-scenes mantra, a group endurance run, a secret society, but not a balls-out race like the former Stampedes. Time will tell and shit will smell. The Stampede was all about cops, liability, and horrendous mechanical and physical abuse, but it was a blast, albeit too much on the razor’s edge. They rode pure interstates, like the 15 to the 70, to the 64, and then the 95 south to the 64 West, done deal!

Charlie started hammering away at the age of 57 on the second Stampede when 13 riders started and 13 completed the race in about 43 hours—Incredible. Brian rode his 250 Honda Rebel 175 miles at a stretch, and crossed the line in 84 hours this year. He scored in the middle of the pack. Some guys run 300 miles between stops. Brian rode to the El Diablo Run, then to the Smoke Out.

This event is all about 2-Wheeled Passion, passion for life, for the ride, for custom, art, speed, girls, road and freedom. Plus, we need to discuss the second major ride contingent, The Long Road. I’ll tell this portion of the story around Uncle Ben, the Long Road Organizer for the last eight years. He’s ridden the Long Road for eight out of the 16 Smoke Outs.

I’ve ridden a few Long Roads, once from New Orleans through a half-dozen states to the Smoke Out. “Last year, you ducked out,” Uncle Ben said, “it rained every day. You showed up on the last day and it cleared. What the hell?”

Over 65 riders started this year in Nashville, Indiana, and rode along the Ohio River, which marks Kentucky’s northern border with Ohio, Indiana and Illinois (more than 600 miles).

In his Notes on the State of Virginia published in 1781-82, Thomas Jefferson stated: “The Ohio is the most beautiful river on earth. Its current gentle, waters clear, and bosom smooth and unbroken by rocks and rapids, a single instance only excepted.”

They rode into West Virginia on the first night to Milton, and then over the majestic Appalachian mountain trails to Buena Vista (beautiful views) and along Highway 70 E. into Goldsboro, NC for a night at Whiskey Dicks with Curtis, the Wall of Death Owner, and finally to Murrell’s Inlet to the Suck, Bang, and Blow biker bar extraordinaire. The next morning after another world-class party in the burn-out pits, they straddled their bikes for the final blast into North Carolina and the RockingWorld Raceway for the infamous Smoke Out.

This group of diehards campout most every night under the stars and barbecue to their hearts content. “It’s all about the scenery and the camaraderie,” said Uncle Ben. Many of the Long Road riders are veterans and have been on many of these ever-changing adventures.

Smoke Out 16 is about a motorcycling adventure, if you can keep up with the non-stop action.

HAWAII TO ELIMINATE ETHANOL IN GASOLINE
Legislation to repeal the requirement that gasoline offered for sale in Hawaii contain a percentage of ethanol was signed into law by Governor David Ige, and the new law becomes effective December 31, 2015.

The law recognizes that the requirement of blending ethanol into gasoline does not produce any economic benefit for the state and the import of ethanol creates an economic burden for state residents. Ethanol increases water formation, which can then corrode metals and dissolve plastics and rubber, especially over a period of time when the vehicle is not used. Current high-performance specialty parts along with pre-model-year ’01 cars and parts may be most susceptible to corrosion, and no motorcycles or ATVs are approved for higher blended fuels. The lifespan of vehicles and equipment can be dramatically reduced with the wrong fuel, and owners could be confronted with breakdowns.

More than a dozen states have ethanol mandates, according to the National Conference of State Legislatures, but only Hawaii and Florida have passed such a repeal. Florida ended its mandate in 2013, the same year the Environmental Protection Agency proposed reducing the amount of ethanol in fuel, acknowledging that a federal push wasn’t working as well as expected.

CALIFORNIA REQUIRES MOTORCYCLISTS TO REMOVE HELMET FOR TRAFFIC STOPS
Known as the “Identity Confirmation Act,” Assembly Bill 346 will require a motorist to give law enforcement an unobstructed view of their face during a traffic stop, said California Assemblymember Scott Wilk (R-Santa Clarita), author of the measure which primarily targets motorcycle riders.

The Facial ID bill was inspired by a Simi Valley, CA police officer who told the assemblyman about having cases thrown out of court because he couldn’t positively identify someone, Wilk told the Simi Valley Acorn, specifically relating the case of a motorcyclist who refused to remove their helmet.

Wilk admitted to the paper that motorists are compliant 99% of the time, and currently if a driver refuses to show their face during a traffic stop, police can arrest them for resisting or delaying an officer, and can result in going to jail until they can go before a judge.

“From an ‘identification’ legal view, all citizens are required to prove their identity when asked by law enforcement,” said Chuck Pedersen, State Legislative Director for ABATE of California. “From a helmet ticket defense, an officer cannot ask for you to remove your helmet for the purpose of inspection. I don’t see a need for this additional legislation.”

HANDLEBAR HEIGHT LIMIT REPEALED IN SOUTH DAKOTA
Just in time for the 75th Sturgis Rally, starting July 1st, ape-hangers are now legal in South Dakota. The $20 fine for riding with your hands too high was wiped off the books as Governor Dennis Daugaard signed Senate Bill 85, effectively abolishing South Dakota codified law that prohibited such handlebars.

 

EARPLUGS BENEFICIAL, BUT ILLEGAL FOR OHIO MOTORCYCLISTS
Ohio’s motorcycle operator manual says hearing protection, like earplugs, can help reduce noise while allowing a rider to hear important sounds like horns or sirens, but it also says riders should adhere to state laws, which creates a problem: using earplugs in Ohio while operating a vehicle is illegal. There are exceptions for emergency personnel, or road workers, and even for people who wear hearing aids…but not for motorcyclists.

It isn’t the sound of the motorcycle causing all the noise; “It’s the wind noise that can cause permanent hearing loss,” explains A.I.M. Attorney Ralph C. Buss, who has represented the interests of motorcycle riders for over 30 years. “Deafness is a serious problem that people don’t think about, don’t address,” Buss said in an interview with WCPN public radio in Cleveland.

Attorney Buss challenged that law in court. His client: Tom Varsel, who happened to be a retired noise expert for GM who was pulled over for riding his motorcycle in Ohio while wearing earplugs. Varsel was fined $37, but his case continued to an appellate court. He lost a constitutional challenge to the earplug law, but the case raised interesting issues of health and safety that the court ruled were matters for the legislature to address.

“What’s clear is that wind noise on a motorcycle can be very intense, intense enough to damage your hearing,” says Eric Healy, a professor of hearing science at the Ohio State University who testified in Varsel’s case. “And what’s also crystal clear is that earplugs can remedy that, almost completely.”

To determine the level of wind noise motorcyclists face, Healy took a recording device for a drive with PhD students. Imagine a mannequin head with anatomically correct ears, stuck out a window, and the measurements recorded from that experiment, Healy says, matched previous work published in well-known British journals in the mid 1990s. He found that at speeds as low as 35 mph, wind noise exceeded 85 decibels.

“Sounds over that are known to cause hearing damage. The levels that we measured were in the range from 110 to 130db,” Healy told WCPN radio host Tony Ganzer. Even helmets don’t prevent the wind noise, though earplugs offering some 30db of potential reduction, might help.

But the wording of the law in Ohio and other states, which dates back to 1989 and was enacted largely in response to stereo headphones in cars, doesn’t allow earplugs to be worn by motorcyclists or motorists.

A similar law in California, which allowed only for “custom earplugs,” was amended in 2004, allowing individuals to wear earplugs that don’t block the sounds of horns or emergency sirens. Under exceptions to their Headphone and Earplug law, it was added (V C Section 27400):

ILLINOIS LIGHTS IT UP
A bill in Illinois to legalize accent lighting on motorcycles passed unanimously through the legislative process and on June 18 was sent to the Governor.

HB3944: Amends the Illinois Vehicle Code to provide that a motorcycle may be equipped with auxiliary accent lights, including standard bulb running lights and light emitting diode pods and strips. Provides that the auxiliary accent lights shall not be red or white or oscillating, rotating, or flashing lights. Defines “auxiliary accent light”.

(a) A motorcycle may be equipped with any number of auxiliary accent lights, including standard bulb running lights and light emitting diode pods and strips of various colors.
(b) The auxiliary accent lights allowed under subsection (a) of this Section shall not be red or white or oscillating, rotating, or flashing lights.
(c) For the purposes of this Section, “auxiliary accent light” means any lighted lamp or illuminating device placed upon a motorcycle, other than head lamps, spot lamps, auxiliary driving lamps, signal lamps, or hazard warning lamps.

“Accent lighting are the small colored lights tucked in on the underside of motorcycle gas tanks and frames,” explains ABATE of Illinois on their website (www.ABATE-IL.org), which supports the measure. “We are looking at legalizing them to be operating while the bike is in motion. They do not interfere with operator eyesight and will actually help in the reduction of bikers being ‘T-Boned’ at night with the extra lighting which will reduce Fatalities and Deaths. The bill increases visibility of motorcycles, especially at night.”

Unlike automobiles and light trucks which are required to have side marker lights or wrap around headlights / tail lights which are visible from the side, motorcycle lights are often only visible from the front and rear and do not have the same illumination as automobiles. NHTSA published a report on the effectiveness of side marker lights on motor vehicles, concluding that side marker lights are a cost effective safety device which reduce the number of nighttime angular collisions that occur in the United States.

SPREADING MOTORCYCLE AWARENESS
Nate Hudson, co-owner of “British-American Motorcycle Club”, a bike shop in Long Beach, California, is currently in the middle of a 17,000-mile ride all over the U.S. to spread a motorcycle safety message for riders and awareness from car drivers. He visits the Department Of Motor Vehicles office in every state’s capital, where he hand delivers a request that the authorities consider including motorcycle awareness in both the driver’s license exam and the state’s drivers’ education curriculum.

Hudson’s journey is being sponsored by Allstate Insurance Company, and he’s riding a tricked out Indian Roadmaster donated by Indian Motorcycle painted in Allstate blue with logo and trim. So any photo of his bike, therefore, becomes a social-media ad for Allstate.

PAKISTANI POLICE EXEMPT FEMALE PASSENGERS FROM WEARING HELMETS
Reacting to public protests over a traffic regulation in which it was made mandatory for motorcycle riders as well as pillions (passengers) to wear a helmet, including women, police in Karachi have announced exempting female pillion riders from wearing a helmet.

Inspector General (IG) Sindh Police, Ghulam Haider Jamali announced here on June 10 that the decision was made after the repeated appeals of citizens. In an earlier statement, the police said in case of riding pillion without helmets, both will be fined, regardless of whether the pillion is male or female.

 

SURVEY REVEALS RIDERS’ PET PEEVES
In an online survey of motorcyclists conducted in June by Erie Insurance, nationwide respondents were asked to share their top five pet peeves about both other motorcycle riders and car drivers:

Top Five Complaints About Fellow Riders: #1: Riding Recklessly (ie: speeding, weaving through traffic, doing wheelies) – 56%; #2: Passing on the Shoulder – 41%; #3: Lane Splitting – 36%; #4: Wearing shorts, sandals, tank tops, etc – 35%; #5: Riders who don’t wear helmets – 28%.

Top Five Complaints About Vehicle Drivers: #1: Drivers who don’t check their blind spots before changing lanes – 55%; #2: Texting while driving – 53%; #3: Reckless Driving (i.e., speeding, weaving in and out of traffic) – 50%; #4: Drivers who tailgate – 43%; #5: Not signaling when turning or changing lanes – 42%.

QUOTABLE QUOTE: “Be as beneficent as the sun or the sea, but if your rights as a rational being are trenched on, die on the first inch of your territory.”

Having grown tired of the islands by now, Tom called and, after consulting Steve, I told him to come enjoy Eden for a while. A day later the heavily loaded BMW pulled into the driveway and introductions were made. Tom was given a bedroom and our little family of three began to hang around Eden, drink coffee, and share vegetarian breakfasts. Tom and Steve seemed as long lost brothers and quickly became almost inseparable. They could often be seen sitting in the yard bullshitting for hours.

I’d never seen Tom so relaxed.

The 2016Indian Motorcycles Are Here

Following record Q2 sales results, ahealthy demand for the Indian Scout and the 2016 Indian Chief DarkHorse releases earlier this year, Indian Motorcycle is enjoying windin their sails as they prepare to show off the whole 2016 lineup at75th Annual Sturgis Motorcycle Rally. Here’s a quick look at the 2016Indian Motorcycles.

2016 IndianScout ABS and Indian Scout

 

2016 IndianChief Dark Horse

The 2016 Indian Chief Dark Horse is themost striking cruiser on the road. Featuring a matte black finishfrom end-to-end and only a flash of chrome, this bike makes astatement even before you fire it up. Featuring a low seat height andthe lowest price for any Thunder Stroke 111 powered Indian, the DarkHorse starts at just $16,999. The 2016 Indian Chief Dark Horsedelivers the styling, reliability and power expected from an IndianMotorcycle, but with a heathy dose of attitude. Propelled by 119ft/lbs of torque and the same chassis and suspension of theaward-winning Indian Chief Classic, the Dark Horse rolls withstandard ABS, a remote key fob for keyless ignition, electroniccruise control, and features a two-year unlimited mileage factorywarranty.

2016 IndianChief Classic, Indian Chief Vintage and Indian Chieftain

— Indian Chief Classic: Pearl White

—Indian Chief Vintage: Star Silver &Thunder Black

—Indian Chieftain: Silver Smoke, IndianMotorcycle Red & Ivory Cream, Star Silver & Thunder Black

2016 IndianRoadmaster

The industry’s most luxurious andanticipated touring motorcycle, Indian Motorcycle is proud to offerthe Indian Roadmaster as the epitome of comfort in long distancecruising. With the peace-of-mind and reliability of the ThunderStroke 111 engine and nearly 38 gallons of premium storage, theindustry’s leading touring bike delivers luxury features like apower-adjustable windscreen, heated grips, dual heated seats, ABS,tire pressure monitoring system, keyless ignition with remote lockingstorage, electronic cruise control, advanced infotainment system andBluetooth capability for the ultimate in connectivity. Starting MSPR$27,999

New for 2016, the Indian Roadmaster isavailable with new color options that include Blue Diamond plustwo-tone Storm Gray & Thunder Black and Springfield Blue andCream.

Experience the2016 Lineup at the 75th Annual Sturgis Motorcycle Rally

In 1938 Indian Motorcycle dealerClarence “Pappy” Hoel and the Jackpine Gypsies Motorcycle Clubstarted the Black Hills Motorcycle Rally never knowing that it wouldgrow into the World’s biggest motorcycle rally. For the diamondanniversary, starting Friday July 31st, Sturgis attendees are invitedto experience these the new line-up at the Indian Motorcycle factorydisplay on Lazelle St. through the rally, or to experience themfirsthand with a factory demo ride at 2100 Whitewood Service Road(I-90 at Exit 30) from Saturday, August 1 – Saturday, August 8,starting at 9 a.m. – 5 p.m. daily. In addition to stock motorcycles,accessorized units will be on hand to experience comfort andperformance items.

I can’t do anything normal-like, and I’ve got to fuck with everything. My refrigerator is custom-painted, but many of us crazed maniacs in this industry suffer similar afflictions, such as Bill Dodge, Dave Perewitz, you name ‘em. We drank the same tainted water as kids. Then there’s also something about redheads. So, how did this mess start?

It’s all the fault of the Smoke Out Producer, Commander Edge, a slippery character who worked in Army Intelligence for 20 years and came out slightly polluted. I attend the Smoke Out every year, even through blistering temps and tropical humidity. It’s still the event of events, a rider’s event and a builder’s event.

Last year while at a party in Myrtle Beach at Suck Bang and Blow, in rode a wild long-haired rider on a new Indian, except it looked very old and worn, sorta tattered, and his skimpy little girlfriend, Megan, hung on for dear life. Plus this new Indian sported wild highbars to the stars. I was impressed.

As it turned out, Rich Worley owned an Indian Dealership, American Biker, in Charleston, SC, and designed the patina paint job with his talented paint crew. Fuck it, I was knocked out with the 2014 Indian I straddled for the week, and Rich knew how to breathe fun and action into the finish. I bought a 2014 Chief Classic from a guy on the opposite coast. Makes sense, right?

Over this last year we’ve messed with it from stem to stern, from the paint to the mufflers, and redesigned the handlebars to look like the bars on a 1946 Indian. We shaved the bottom of the rear fender for the same purpose. I worked with Paul Aiken, of Aeromach in Charlotte, NC on accessories and board lowering brackets.

I encountered the distinct pleasure of riding it for the first time this year at the Smoke Out. During a late night security conference under pine trees behind the wet T-shirt contest stage, Commander Edge handed a handful of us small tattered chunks of leather. Howard Knight engraved each one in uncustomary ragged lettering. It said, “Meet us for the first Sturgis Underhanded Run on a dirt road behind Spearfish, SD, or die trying.”

My plans for Sturgis were engraved in stone. By official declaration I was assigned to ride rearguard for the Hamsters into Yellowstone. Sugarbear, who was being inducted into the Sturgis Motorcycle Hall of Fame, set a chair aside at his induction breakfast table, and promised hot pancakes and melting butter. Marilyn Stemp of the Iron Trader news, the most intelligent Biker News source, unlike Bikernet, who works in a very lofty titled position for the Buffalo Chip, threatened my life if I didn’t deliver flowers to her during the rally. The commitment list flourished, as if I was assigned watch duties on the bridge of a destroyer. I’ve been there, and was feeling the pressure. I had to ask about Underhanded dates, and find out more.

When I asked for more info, the push back was immense. No info was forthcoming, something about a need-to-know basis. I suspected Agent Zebra’s involvement. Then in the bottom of a glass of white lightening I found a fortune cookie. “If you ever want to see your Indian alive again, be there.”

I immediately stumbled across the campsite to find Rich Worley, but he was sequestered in a bus with Megan and you know the adage. “When the bus is rockin’ no need knockin’.” I passed out in the sand behind the stage. The next morning I awoke and couldn’t find the sheaf of leather or the fortune cookie. Maybe it was all a white lightening-induced dream.

I tried to pretend all was normal on the Bikernet front, except I was covered in sticky sand and smelled like stale whiskey. A maraschino cherry stem stuck out of one of my dirty pockets. I tried to find my Indian and a plate of scrambled eggs. My cell phone started to ring but didn’t sound right. The shattered face spoke to me. It was the Redhead of Redheads. “Get on a plane and get home,” her voice like Betty Boop, made me smile. “I’ll explain when you get home, sweetie.”

I did as I was told, although the other passengers on the four connecting flights didn’t care for my sweat and alcohol-soaked comradeship. Once home at the Bikernet Epicenter, or the belly button of the Bikernet empire, I was sure the light of enlightenment would shine and I could make sense out of anything. The Redhead of Redheads just flitted around the headquarters looking cute and never mentioned a word, Rockingland, NC or the Smoke Out.

It was as if the Redhead strolled around the headquarters with some bubbly blonde’s panties sticking out of her pocket, and she never mentioned them. Now, I know how the convicted man feels when his head is strapped in the guillotine’s cup. I tried to be patient, but that’s not my strong suit. I needed answers.

The answer came a couple of weeks later in an e-mail from the front. “Are you in or out?” the commander questioned.

Suddenly I knew I wasn’t hallucinating behind a bad batch of White Lightening. The plan was to meet in Rapid City two weeks before the 75th and ride like the wind through the Badlands before the crowds descended onto the area. Edge scheduled to roll out with his son from Columbia, NC to Chicago to meet Mike Ludlow and his son, Tyler, a Bikernet Contributing Editor, for the blast to South Dakota.

That left my Indian question in the lurch. Rich Worley, the young dealership owner, had also never been to Sturgis. He offered to ride the 2014 5-Ball Racing Chief Classic from the Atlantic at Charleston, SC to Sturgis.

Suddenly the plan seemed viable. Three riders peeled out from the east coast, two from Chicago, and one slippery one flew out from Los Angeles. Sounded like a drug deal, with quirks. I brought the briefcase and was given a scraggly map from the outskirts of Sturgis, 16 miles to Spearfish, then 6 miles up a dirt road to a sequestered cabin back off the road, over a bristling stream. Seemed a tad strange, but I stuffed the tattered map in a pocket and boarded a sardine-packed flight.

I arrived in Rapid after a 4-hour mechanically delayed flight. The commander picked me up and we blasted 26 miles to Sturgis and into a garage, where I turned over my briefcase for my 5-Ball Racing, modified, Indian Chief Classic. We peeled out for Spearfish and hooked up with the squad of father/son teams. Rich, my young partner in this crime, rode the 5-Ball packed to the gills for three grueling 600-mile days and landed in Sturgis with 1880 miles on the trip gauge. “I was under a lot of pressure to make it here on time,” Rich said, handing me the keys. “Where’s the briefcase?”

Rich lives on the Atlantic in Charleston, SC, and sent me photos from his various stops in Nashville, Kansas City, and St. Louis. “In St. Louis, Missouri, I was getting close.”

“I gave it to that other guy,” I mumbled about the briefcase.

“What other guy?” Rich said and started to lose it.

“Let’s ride,” I said. “It will surface.”

“It better,” Rich said ardently, straddled the Chieftain and we cut a dusty trail for Spearfish, SD.

We pulled into the Bell Motel in Spearfish and went in search of the bros. We ran into two early Hamsters downtown, while a block party had the main drag cordoned off. We found the sports bar just as the customary afternoon deluge engulfed the streets and shut down the outdoor band. The party was over, except in the bars.

The Underhanded Sturgis 75th run was in full swing. After my third whiskey they handcuffed me, blindfolded my ass and drug me to the cabin

where I was questioned about the briefcase. Actually, the Maitland Canyon was difficult to find and in the dark the cabin was nearly impossible to spot. After several passes we found our way and suddenly came face to face with “Our Cabin” décor.

Everywhere we turned in the quirky, pieced-together cabin, we ran into signs, ceramics, quilts, embroidery, engravings, and etchings with cabin slogan such as: Welcome to our Cabin; Life is good at the cabin; What happens at the cabin stays at the cabin, and Welcome to where we watch moon beams and have Cabin Dreams.

The list went on. How about, “Cabin Sweet Cabin, in the Northern Woods is filled with life, Where Peace and Stillness Abound.”

I looked around for shallow graves. The quirk level got to me but Jack Daniels helped me sleep. Although this cabin experience had the aura of a comfortable vacation, one high-ranking team authority demanded early revelry and kickstands up at ridiculous times so we could jam to Mount Rushmore, Crazy Horse, and the Needles Highway.

We learned from an American Indian how the local Shoshoni Indians kicked ass on the Calvary. “We kept the Calvary stuck in their forts, while we trained our horses and warriors. We had semi-automatic Winchester weapons, big healthy lads, and horses that could out run anything trapped for weeks in a stockade. They didn’t have a chance.”

Each night we jammed back to the cabin for barbecued steaks, or Rich’s finely cooked tin foil-wrapped seasoned salmon.

We rode to Devil’s Tower along small winding pristine roads peppered with hay farms, cattle ranches, and Black Alder, Spruce, and Burch trees. We rolled back through Deadwood to visit an old friend, Adrian, who has worked on an historic mansion overlooking town for five years. It’s a dream project.

Then the next day we hauled ass to Cheyenne Crossing where Eric Herrmann always sets up and waited for breakfast. Then we blasted into downtown Sturgis to check the action and get the rundown from Arlin Flatland who was celebrating his 45th year running 2Wheelers store on Main Street. Someday we need to write Arlin’s story.

We arrived just after the first major hailstorm, and roamed the streets while checking the weather. Another front was on its way and a couple of us peeled for Spearfish, where we dodged another front and I waited patiently for my Wyoming babe, who once saved my life after I hit a deer at 80 mph between Thermopolis and Worland, Wyoming. She stayed by my bedside at the initial hospital where they discovered an issue with my concussion and flew me to Casper for additional treatment. She didn’t miss a beat but showed up the next day in Casper and hung out every day until Dr. Nuttboy flew to Wyoming to return me to the coast.

Rich stuck with me on the Chieftain as we tucked through the corners on the Needles Highway and along open roads. “It’s a heavy bike, but doesn’t feel heavy,” Rich said. “Even with the massive front end, fairing, and all the electronics, I whipped through the curves.”

Later on I ran into an engineer from Indian and he told me about de-raking the touring models to keep them agile in the curves. “The wider front tire makes stability a breeze,” Rich added. He’s not a windshield guy, but it worked and Indian studied the vortex situation behind the shield and adjusted it to avoid the discomfort of buffeting winds. “I rolled it down on the highways, and up on the interstate, where I could take off my shades and ride comfortably with the windshield up.”

As we sat around the fire the final night and discussed plans for the next day, a crisp notion surfaced. If I was going to hook up with the Hamsters, who had just rolled out of the San Francisco Bay area, I had best cut a dusty trail; besides, James and Tyler wanted to hit the Sturgis town action again in the morning. A plan formed and I studied maps for reaching Sun Valley, Idaho in a couple of days. The Hamsters would hold up for an extra day on the edge of the Sawtooth National Forrest.

“Do you have anything warmer to wear?” Edge asked as I looked at a map and started to write down a daunting list of highways.

“Oh, hell no,” I said. I’m glad he asked. He turned me onto a set of thermals and a fleece sweatshirt with a high collar. It was 45 degrees the next morning and the passing low pushed 50 mph winds down Interstate 90 to Buffalo.

At one point my list of highways included the 90 to the 16, to 26, 22,31, 20 and 26. When my focus returned, I was basically taking the 16 out of Buffalo to the 26.

I was just beginning to learn the benefits of this low-slung Indian. It handled like some dream, sort of like Debby was when I hit the deer. When I needed comfort from my aches and pains the Classic settled in for the long haul. I immediately noticed how it handled in rain grooves, as if they didn’t exist. At one point on the 90 at over 80 mph I dropped my hand to the gas tank and was startled. No vibration existed. I tried to find vibration, other than the road, and couldn’t find any in the handlebars or even the frame and this was a solid mounted drivetrain.

With the low center of gravity enhanced by Rob Tusay, at American Biker, lowering it 1.5 inches, it was the most stable bike I’ve ever ridden. It glided down the highway, ignoring glitches in the road, even buffeting trucks. I was fortunate to be able to ride one of my favorite roads south on Hwy 20 through the infamous Worland, through Thermopolis, and their hot springs, into Shoshoni and then picked up 26 into Riverton, where I packed it in at the Roomers motel.

Just outside Thermopolis, I hit that damn deer, and still have the hide to prove it. I noticed the deer warning signs, some with flapping red flags.

I wished I kept going and rolled another sweeping 89 miles to Dubois, which is a very cool woodsy town at the base of the Rocky Mountains. I could have made it in the hot early evening sun, but hit the road in 46 degrees from Riverton in the morning and was chilled to the bone before I grabbed a rattling hot cup of coffee in the log cabin built town. Then I started to roll through the mountains to Idaho on the other side. I came across game warning signs, antelope warnings, cattle crossings, and finally a deer stood at the road’s edge as I rounded a sweeping bend at over 60 mph. I perked up as I spotted the hesitating young, healthy doe with twitching ears. “Don’t move,” I said out loud and pointed my finger at the beast and blew past.

My highway choice was perfect for dodging tourists into Jackson, out the back and along the Snake River into Utah. What an amazing trail and I learned how much energy I saved using the Indian cruise control system. I could set it, kick back, and make a margarita…

I attempted to dodge Idaho Falls for fear of a big city, but I split through it in a flash and peeled along open roads, again on the 26 toward Cary, Idaho. As the day turned blistering hot I stopped at a gas station to refuel. When I picked up the bike in Sturgis, mileage indicated 42.3, but I push into the high 43.7 mpg as I rolled through Wyoming. At one point it seemed stuck on 43.9. Our performance editor, who was born in ’44, is enamored with the number 44. My mission was clear. I tried aerodynamic positions or holding the 6-speed in top gear in a 25 mph zone. There had to be a way, and there was.

While gassing up I spotted an auto parts store and went in search of a couple of bungee cords. I needed to peel out of the fleece and my bedroll, albeit doing a staller job of blocking the wind and carrying my shit, was packed to the gills. Debby gave me a rain suit, so natch, I didn’t need one.

I mentioned my destination to the gentleman at the counter and he immediately tore off a corner sheath of paper and tried to draw a map to a shortcut, as if buried treasure. He attempted to spell out Picabo and Gannet. I needed to look for Picabo, and then turn right on Gannet and dodge a couple hectic intersections, while taking the shortcut to Bellevue.

I was about to experience the only high traffic conditions east of Vegas as I entered several long 25 mph zones leading into Sun Valley, Idaho. There were more deer warnings, wildlife warnings, farm implement signs, truck crossings, game alerts, Elk, steer, you name it.

Then it was all tourist-looking Western-styled towns leading up Hwy 75 into Ketchum until I spotted several yellow shirts, whipped into the parking lot, and begged the girl at the counter for a room. I didn’t care how small. Suddenly Cory and Zack Ness, and several Indian engineers surrounded me. I made it.

I cleaned up and walked into town to check in with the bros and have a drink. At Whiskey Jack’s I ordered a shot of 12-year-old Tullemore Dew (terrific Irish whiskey) and they didn’t have it. I thought this whiskey bar would have the serious shit. I was waiting on the official Hamster whiskey gathering, but no one showed. The bartender recommended something and it was so-so. “Do you want to run a tab?” He said.

I looked at the skimpy drink and said, “Make it a double, and no tab.” That double cost me $24. No wonder I quit drinking. There went my dinner budget.

My toughest day lay ahead. I was hoping to hook up with a good friend in Vegas, the owner of Rocky’s Sports Bar and Restaurant, Joe Zanelli. The food is fantastic. His son is a major lead chef at a high-dollar casino. Again, it was about 47 degrees on a crisp, clean morning as I fired up the Indian, and a couple of brothers opened their hotel room curtains and waved. Several Hamsters dug into computers for hours trying to figure their way to the next stop. I recommended the 26 along the beautiful Snake River into Wyoming, but they were forced north into Yellowstone.

There’s always that roll of the dice between a clean comfortable efficient ride and a curvy, multiple stops, picturesque putt. I like a balance, away from the interstates, around cities, along mild highways where speed is still available. I like my roads like voluptuous women, round and curvy. The Indian pulled like a 111-inch freight train in any gear. It didn’t jerk or lurch, just a steady strong pull.

The 5-Ball Chief rode like a dream over dips and potholes. Occasionally, the front end made a noise like a clunk, but I could never figure it out. Paul Aiken’s mini footboards helped with my hip problem, and each day the ride was even more comfortable. Usually, I move around a lot in the seat and sometimes push myself up onto the rear fender for relief. I didn’t need to overtly shift position. Sure, I moved some, but not so much, and the Indian was so stable I could perform stretching exercise while thundering down the road.

Thursday was my toughest distance day. From mountainside Ketchum to Vegas penciled out to be right at 600 miles. Highway 75 dipped out of Utah dumped me right onto another favorite highway, 93 through Nevada, but I fucked up. I grabbed breakfast in a seedy casino just over the border and peeled down 93 as if I was on rails. I entered Ely on fumes. The Indian electronics afforded me two trip gauges, mileage, tank range, you name it, but I pushed it within 20 miles of running out of gas. I didn’t like the notion of sputtering out of fuel in 100- degree temps in a Nevada desert. No fun.

I was familiar with Ely. This was the Bonneville Salt Flats trek, and a no-brainer. There’s a shortcut on 93 south by taking Highway 6 to Lund. I love the road through the great basin, but I kept following the shortcuts, and when I passed a sign announcing next services 100 miles I knew I went the wrong path. The snakey, dusty, desert, 100 miles was dull as toast, open, low shrub and creosote-scattered sand, until I finally came to the 93 junction, Ash Springs and Alamo.

I was finally on track and on the last stretch of the Great Basin following a meandering river on one side, the Pahranagat. On the other side were beautifully wind etched and naturally carved stones, but I was itching to roll into the city of glitz.

I entered Vegas at 80 mph under sizzling skies and making 44.4 mpg. It had to be a good sign. In sixth gear the engine purred along at 2900 rpms. After a fantastic Vegas dinner with Joe talking FXRs and old two-wheeled projects I bit the bullet for an early start and the final run to the coast, about 275 miles. I won’t even go there between the heat and the Friday traffic it was a gruel every LA rider faces daily.

I pulled up to the Headquarter about 1:00 p.m. and ran immediately into Sin Wu. “You look like hell,” she muttered. WTF? I sliced through 1697.3 miles from Spearfish. I topped out at 44.7 mpg and the total trip covered 4105.7 miles from coast to coast with lots of miles spent searching the Badlands. Total miles on the bike was 4,746.

Brothers who help make this adventure a reality:

I started my annual pilgrimage to Sturgis, SD to give thanks to the gods of pistons and petrol and to celebrate the 75th anniversary. Along with me, bikers arrived from every corner of the globe, of all nationalities, ages, and colors. They come together for the largest two and three-wheel gathering in the world.

The action starting in Charlotte, NC certainly didn’t end there, the piston pilgrimage concluded in the cannabis dispensaries in Denver, CO. Hang on, we’ll get there.
I kicked off the rally with killer, cool, world class, maestros, metal artists… any adjective you can come up with, these Michael Lichter’s Naked Truth builders, from the Motorcycles as Art exhibit delivered… They’re truly unbelievably talented.

Sturgis enthusiasts were the first to see the bikes and meet the builders at The Flying Piston charity breakfast on Sunday, Aug. 2nd in the tent next to Michael Lichter’s annual Motorcycles as Art display.

This year the show was without color and relied on texture. Each bike was built without paint and showcased the fabrication ability of each builder. Attendees of the Piston breakfast met the builders and got to see the motorcycles before the exhibit opened to the public. The proceeds from the builder’s breakfast assisted Veterans transitioning into the workforce.

Lichter out did himself for the 75th. He’s rubbed elbows with custom cycle gods for over 30 years. For him, it all started back in the ‘80s with his work with Easyriders Magazine. (Bandit has stories working with Lichter in his Easyriders days but no amount of Jack Daniels has, to date, loosened his lips.)

His continuing contributions have earned him international recognition. He’s credited with 10 books on motorcycling, more than 1,200 magazine articles, numerous calendars, advertisements, posters and other printed materials.

So to work alongside Lichter’s artwork was a serious treat. I wanted to produce a charity event for years and now, in 2015, everything fell into place with Bikernet as a leading sponsor. And having it linked to Michael’s event was icing on the cake. That’s not to say we didn’t face challenges, we did, but it was worth every effort. Our so-so food was sourced from Costco, so after the semi-breakfast a number of the guys went out for a serious breakfast. We will dial in the menu next year.

Marilyn Stemp of Iron Trader News put in the multiple hours sourcing the silent auction items from outstanding companies, with amazing products such as: Avon Tyres, a Special Ops Vest from 5-Ball Leathers, The Leatherworks Solo Bag, a fancy Bell Helmet, Kicker Audio, Fab Kevin custom products, HelmetLok, original art from Darren McKeag and Chris Callen, Revere Seats, Corbin Seats, H-D Footwear Boots, Cruisin’ Goods and Shirts from Dalton Walker of Split Image Kustoms. Unfortunately original artwork from Atomic Bob was lost in the mail. “Hey, Uncle Sam, please return to sender.”

Lichter’s magnificent event hosted at the Chip replaced the AMD World Championship as the only place in the United States to see the ultimate expression of creative skill and imagination in quantity. Thirty custom builders created incredibly beautiful motorcycles with precise feats of mechanical engineering.

The reason the rally started is not much different than the reason it keeps succeeding. The 75th holding of the Sturgis motorcycle rally all started with one man who had a love of motorcycles, racing and, well, money. In 1936, John Clarence “Pappy” Hoel hatched the plan to sell and race motorcycles and put some cha-ching in his pocket.

Pappy purchased an Indian Motorcycle dealership because technology had leapfrogged his ice business when homes went Frigidaire. A smart, intrepid man, Hoel wanted to host races to satisfy his love of cycles and racing, and spur the growth of his Indian dealership.

It was in 1936 that Hoel and crew founded the Jackpine Gypsies, a motorcycle club joining with other area cycle clubs to launch the Black Hills Motor Classic.
The two-day event hosted about 150 people and attracted nine riders.

Hmmm, in this context, The Flying Piston charity breakfast beat the attendance of the 1st Black Hills Motor Classic by a significant number. I could tell you how much more we did but coffee stains smudged the ink on the sign-up sheet… another issue we need to perfect for next year.

Reports claimed massive 75th attendance numbers, but the crowds seemed about the same as last year. There were a couple of differences. The demographic mix changed with a lot of first-time Sturgis newbies, and prices skyrocketed. Hotel rates screamed with standard rooms going for $550. Bananas! One thing remained exactly the same, Police presence. We tried to enjoy the party, but not enough to peak the curiosity of the “man,” if you do, bad things can happen.

Friday, July 31st, around 7:30pm, a Meade County Deputy rolled down Highway 79, when 69-year-old biker, Francis Finley of Newport, Minnesota allegedly peeled along at 52 in a 35, in the opposite direction. The deputy attempted a U-turn and collided with the front wheel and fender of the motorcycle. Fortunately Finley only sustained non-life threatening injuries.

Another change included racing. The rally isn’t about racing anymore even though the AMA sanctioned flat track race kicked off in Rapid City on Tuesday night.
All the big guns showed up with Jared Mees taking his first win of the season. Mees shot off the line like a rocket, came out of Turn two of the first lap with a lead, and never looked back on his way to a wire-to-wire victory in the Black Hills Half Mile. If you haven’t seen a flat track race, you owe it to yourself to get to one. They are very cool and the riders are accessible. And if you are in position to sponsor a team, sponsorship is dirt-cheap.

The rally is really a three-ring circus with wild adventures wherever your two-wheels take you. Check out Bandit’s Ride to Sturgis here. It’s also a place to find and locate just about anything for your motorcycle with every manufacturer in the industry represented.
And the greatest show under one roof to maintain and customize your scooter was located at the Black Hills Harley-Davidson in Rapid City, SD. The temporary outdoor mall featured more than 120 vendors filling 40 acres of asphalt and offering everything from metal engraving to S&S HI-PO kits.

After Tuesday I had to hit the bricks and headed to Denver.

On the way South I stopped in Cheyenne, Wyoming at a Starbucks for a conference call concerning my cannabis meetings for the following day. There I saw a guy with reflective aviator glasses, cowboy hat, assault rifle and an automatic clipped to his hip. Wherever he roamed in the store, his assault rifle was with him.

As they say, different strokes… When I lived in Silicon Valley everyone wore pocket protectors. No one at Starbucks seemed alarmed, so I’m thinking, it’s ”the” accessory for the cowboy / anarchist crowd.

A couple of hours later I continued my trek to Colorado. I’m researching the cannabis edible business for a client and had a meeting with a vertically integrated organization. They’re putting the entire process from growing, extraction, manufacturing and distribution under one roof. It’s an interesting model as a business can lease a grow room, take advantage of the infrastructure, and be in business overnight–sort of the Go Daddy for the pot biz.

It’s also an incredibly risky business because the federal government can withdraw money operators deposit into banks. In some states it’s considered drug money and you know what that means… it means that a lot of cash is being moved around.

Edibles are a growth business, as many recreational users prefer to eat rather than smoke. And since you are ingesting instead of inhaling, it takes longer to activate and at the same time, stays effective for a longer period of time.

I toured their $750,000 state-of-the-art growing facility schedule to be online in the 4th quarter of the year. This is an interesting time because of the quasi legality as well as the number of draconian restrictions butt heads. In the West, it’s the wild, wild West.
Custom Bike Builders are everywhere… While I was in town, I met up with Roy Martin of Roy Toys Customs. When he is not working on his custom bikes for the upcoming 2015 Harley-Davidson Museum Pro Invitational Custom Bike Show, he is taking care of business as a motor cop in Glendale, CO., on the south side of Denver.

Roy regaled me with cop stories about Broncos football team whooping it up at the strip clubs that the Mayor’s wife owns. When they step out of line, he’ll threaten them with a call to their coach. He said this defused the situation and worked every time.
Roy also caught a player public urinating. He responded with the Saturday Night Live routine of “Really?” Which gave me a laugh until he told me it can be pushed to a sexual offender jacket, which would follow you for the rest of your life…

Roy has three custom builds going. I’m jazzed about his custom bagger featuring a 30-inch “7 Sins” wheel from Ridewright Wheels. The wheel is billet and powder coated black-on-black, which really makes a statement. I’m looking forward to seeing it at the Harley-Davidson Museum Pro Invitational show.

I got a kick out of visiting with the family. Everyone is an “A” type personality with a good heart. Roy has inoculated the entire family with his passion, so everyone supports his motorcycle endeavors in some form or fashion. His wife is a business associate, daughter is the operations, son provides fabrication assistance, and grandkids provide gopher duties.
While poking around Roy’s shop I came across a CCI Sporty gas tank painted by Gunslinger Custom Paint and I thought that this would be a perfect complement to the Suit’s Sportster project, or Kathy Russel. (This series will be posted on Bikernet in the fall.) After some dickering, I came away with a sweetheart of a deal.

Russel is a Motorcycle Lawyer who has worked for me with SS Trike, Aeromach Mfg., Smoke Out, HORSE, and a host of others. I am working over the Suit’s Sporty with a Bill Dodge front end and EMD cases. Updates on the project will be running on Bikernet.com very soon.

So that is the 411 on the working rally. I’m back home and testing the Colorado edibles in a controlled environment. Not sure when I’ll be sending the next update, as there is a lot quality assurance work to be done.