Laconia Bike Week 2007
By Bandit |
Maybe you’ve heard of the Triple Crown of racing, horses that is, hooves flashing, nostrils flaring, heading down the last stretch to glory and the big purse. In the United States, the Triple Crown consists of the Kentucky Derby, at Churchill Downs in Louisville, Kentucky; the Preakness Stakes, at Pimlico Race Course in Baltimore, Maryland; the Belmont Stakes, at Belmont Park in Elmont, New York. Take all three and you’re in the history books forever, but people only remember the horse’s name, not the rider’s.
Some say there’s also a Triple Crown of bike rallies for bikers, and that would be Sturgis in South Dakota about to have its 67th event, Daytona Beach in Florida about to celebrate its 66th, and Laconia in New Hampshire, the three locations forming sort of a triangle or jewels on the crown so to speak. (Okay, we’re not slamming Laughlin or Myrtle Beach or even the Honda Hoot so no letters please.)
You don’t win a cash prize or some extra hay but you do gain those indelible images and sometimes enduring friendship born of the many miles ridden and challenges met. They don’t call them rallies for nothing. Laconia, now nearing its 85th Anniversary, beating out the two other events by almost 20 years, leaves its own set of impressions. It doesn’t have those long, wide open vistas you see in the Dakotas or the ocean glinting gold over Daytona’s beaches. But Laconia does have New Hampshire, a green swath of creation whose great forests pump oxygen into the atmosphere we breathe and whose meandering roads seem custom bred for motorcycles. And they didn’t adopt the state motto of “Live Free or Die” for nothing.
It goes way back to the peal of that first liberty bell more than 200 years ago; some New Hampshire residents take it very seriously. It even extends to what Federal rules they consider worth taking seriously. That can be seen in the choice they offer bikers. If you’re 18 or over, it’s your decision to wear a helmet or not. And that’s not the end of it. If you’re 18 or over, you can also decide to snap that car safety belt on or not. They call it freedom of choice. And that’s cast in stone, so to speak, since the state is also called the Granite State. Yeah, they got a lot of rock. And other minerals as well, like back in 1803 the Ruggles Mine near Laconia first started digging out a mother lode of mica used it appears in the little windows of stoves, something everybody needed since the winters can get damn cold. By the time the mine closed down it had cashed in on $30,000,000. You learn this kind of factoids when do Laconia. But the real “gold” is not dug out of Mother Earth but found on a rather short stretch of pavement at Weirs Beach.
Compared to the miles of Daytona beach front or Sturgis Main Street, Weirs is a bit weird in that it takes about two beers and a burger to walk its entire length. But if you choose to make the trek to Laconia, maybe after doing Sturgis and Daytona, you won’t be disappointed. Something like 200-350,000 people show up each year, so they must know something. Like the Lakes Region in which Laconia finds itself, an amalgam of mountains and forests and of course lakes. Lakes with names like Squam, Ossipee and Winnipesaukee, the last vestiges of the indigenous peoples that once hunted and fished the area until Wal-Mart made those occupations obsolete.
Like any bike event, it’s an opportunity to buy even more t-shirts and Laconia has nice ones including ones with a picture of a moose. Moose tend to walk through the neighborhoods on a regular basis. I didn’t see one the whole time I was there. But I did buy three moose t-shirts. Yeah, we don’t see much moose in L.A. In any case, you can load up on Laconia Bike Week t-shirts and not have to worry about paying state tax on the stuff, a point made by Governor John Lynch in his “welcome to Bike Week” statement.
Laconia Motorcycle Week started back in the summer of 1916, basically in the middle of WWI, in what might be called a simpler time, and the New Hampshire scenery was pristine and already a magnet for riders on spindly Harleys and Indians belt-driving themselves to the area. It became a part of the “Gypsy Tour,” sanctioned by the Federation of American Motorcyclists, (F.A.M.), predecessor to the present American Motorcyclist Association (A.M.A.), founded in 1924. Back then they started a hill climb literally in Weirs, but now you’ll find it a county run recreation area called Gunstock. The “hill” is actually a 300 ft. ski jump area when the snows fall.
Racing entered the picture in 1939 with a road race and up until this year vintage bikes used to race through the city streets of Laconia, but now it’s shifted to the famous New Hampshire International Speedway in nearby Loudon. Returning WWII veterans swelled the ranks of Laconia bike week attendees, as did the release of such biker films as “The Wild Ones” and “Easy Rider.”
In the 1960s bikers began pitching tents along Route 106 leading to the track, but still Weirs Beach was the events main stomping grounds. There was serious stomping between some bikers and the local constabulary around this time, particularly what became known as the “Riot of 65” which got Laconia some bad press. As result the length of the event fluctuated from three days to a week and the roadside camping was banned in 1975. It was not until 1990 and several years of mellowing that the AMA got the ball rolling back to a pre-65 weeklong event, the idea pushed by the local business community who would be happy to have the big crowds back buying stuff. By 1992, it was an A.M.A. sanctioned event again and a year later, the Hill Climbs cranked up again.
In 2000, the days of week were officially changed to nine when Laconia Bike Week became a nine-day party beginning on the second Friday in June and ending at midnight on Father’s Day.
That said, the reason to head for Laconia is three simple words: bikes, people, fun. It’s been working for nearly 85 years so the formula must be right. So the rest of this report is nonverbal, snapshots that hopefully leave the indelible impressions that left on us. And now you’ve got time to gear up for next year and the Big 85.
More info at www.laconiabikeweek.net.
2007 Smoke Out Ride From DC
By Bandit |
Sunday mornin’ finds me sittin, drinkin coffee with mild apprehension about the longest ride to date on my ‘05 Shovelhead. There is a serious electrical issue that needs to be dealt with before I even consider this ride. Slowly a plan starts to materialize after runnin’ the electrical schematics through my head. I have already purchased a new coil, after experiencing a phantom ignition failure while riding last Monday. I was riding a large loop around the area, which took several hours. The bike died, then after sitting for ten or so minutes fired right up?
I walked out the house an sized my bike up, walked back inside an started grabbing tools. This was going to be a major once over for my skimpy assed aftermarket electrical system. Off with the gas tanks, battery and solenoid. I dug up three different solenoids the night before and came up with, what I believed was a good one, after looking the old unit over I came to the conclusion that it was fine.
The cap was solid an the plunger seemed to work fine. I took a deep breath and reinstalled it after cleaning the lugs. While I was in the neighborhood I swapped out my coil and shifted my attention to what I perceived as the scariest part of my sled, the circuit board. I purchased this set up, and I’m running it because I ain’t safe around anything electrical. I personally have watched many different wiring harnesses go up in smoke after I laid my greasy little fingers on them.
Well shit, it’s either me riding down the road or this thing shipped to the shop for the third time. This gaggle of wires has fended-off some of the best attempts, from semi-trained professionals. After pickin’ around at things for an hour or so the whole thing looked good, except for some very cheesy terminal disconnects made outta melted down beer cans. Off to my local Ace hardware store for two packs of 22-18 AWG disconnects, a very good set of adjustable wire strippers and a solid crimp tool. I know all you solder freaks are cleanin your coke bottle glasses an shakin your peanut heads at Mr. Crimp Man, but soldering has still eluded me even with Bandit’s double roach clip soldering tool that now sits with both roach clips soldered together.
After sorting out all my wires, crimpin’ new ends on them an hopefully putting them back in the correct terminals, it was time to throw the tanks an dash panel back on my ride. I reinstalled the battery, after I put new isolators on the battery box and last but not least, the seat. Everything went as smoothly as a stock 1980 FX could go. Wednesday night, it was make-or-break time.
I filled the tanks and primed the carb, held my breath and hit the button. Ah the sweet sound of an out-dated starter pushin’ all 88 inches over. I checked my watch and figured I had time for a test ride before catchin an AA meeting at the National Cathedral.
The ride ran well an the button was working fine. Got to the meeting and was getting some hairy looks from some of the upper crust, but what the hell. I just got paid, wasn’t drunk and was headed to the Smoke Out. A friend walked up and told me his Road King would shut of after it got hot. We walked over to my bike, and I showed him what I did recently. The last thing I did was grabbed the circuit breaker the attach it to my battery. I told him how they worked. After the meeting I walked over to my bike, Mr. Button start, hit the button an nadda? WTF? Back to the kicker dim-whit.
I lay in bed that night for a while running everything through my head when it hit me. The hot wire to the solenoid comes off of that breaker. Bingo, Crimp Man to the Rescue.
Thursday morning broke clean an clear. Packed what little shit I was bringin’. Strange thing about ownin’ an older obsolete motorcycle, you have the tendency to empty your whole toolbox into the soft bags? The funny thing is, you ain’t goin to find a shop around with the parts you need to make use of the tools. More on that topic later. After figurin out I needed more bungy straps and a last stop at the local Ace, I loaded up. Almost 10:30, rush hour in the city was over and I had double-checked everything four times. I was eager to head out, so it was time to roll. Hit the button, and the Shovel fired into a steady idle. Nice, looked up and down the street, all clear, clunked into first, eased out the clutch an I was gone.
Motorin through the city felt good, bike packed an gassed up, three quarts of 70wt. in the soft bags. As I eased through town I was getting the looks from the sorry assed stiffs in their imports, as they went about what the fuck ever they had to do. Yep, later assholes just don’t run me over today. I made my way down 35th St. to M St. an got the hell outta town via the Francis Scott Key bridge which will take me to Interstate 66 an straight to Front Royal Va.
Once on 66 I tried to just take it easy in the slow lane but the folks in their cages were shuffling all around me. I know the answer to this situation, and I pulled it off often, without the law hammering me, 85 in a 65. Out in the fast lane, blowin’ ‘em off. The bike seemed well balanced. No hi-speed wobbles just smooth Shovel power in the fast lane, where it needed to be. The added weight of my toolbox seemed to help sittin’ low. Just another long boring concrete slab ahead of me.
Front Royal was on me in no time, as I carved through around 75 miles, might as well gas up, due to the fact that this is were I picked up Skyline Drive. I pull into an Exxon an stopped away from the pumps. I’m in no hurry to get any where, so I figured I would knock off a soda and a smoke. I walked around my bike and notice that it’s leaving a very large puddle of some type of oil? Fuck me, 75 miles an this shit, down on all fours I try to determine if it’s trans fluid or motor oil? I look up at the “dip” stick and pull it. Sure enough down two quarts. Fuck now what? I push my sled over to the pumps and walked into the station, ask for a fill up and a paper funnel.
The lady at the counter tells me how nice my bike is and ask me where I’m goin? I tell here N.C. she gives me that look, and I walk out. I filled up the gas tanks an say fuck it as I pull two quarts of liquid gold outta the saddle bags. I figure that I ran 75 miles at 85 mph, so I’ll just ease up on the Ol’boy the rest of the way. I walk in to the station for my change and grabbed a soda, push the bike outta the way of the pumps an took five, while looking over the beast.
I purchased a Harley- Davidson Ride Atlas of North America. This guide has the best riding roads highlighted, and the route I planned to take happened to be one. It is listed by state alphabetically, so if you are riding through several states like myself, it was a little tricky at first. I found a rural route rolling me to the entrance of Sky Line Drive in Shenandoah National Park. The ride winds through the smallish town of Front Royal is easy an punctuated by traffic lights. I saw no lawmen as I rode through town. Three miles out of town I found my first destination, the entrance to Skyline Drive. I paid ten bucks to enter which is a seven-day pass, so it covered my return trip.
As soon as I entered the Park I ran into another world. I noticed the speed limit was 35mph, which started my brain calculating miles. After a while I just said fuck it, I was overwhelmed by the view. Fuck, who cares was my new out look.
The sights were simply mind blowin’ an after awhile you could care less, if all you had to do was ride along this road the rest of your life. I just settle into one turn after another, up hill, down hill, banked, off camber, it don’t matter any more. All that matters is settin’ up for the next curve an seein’ what was waitin’ around it.
I found myself tryin’ to look around and ride at 50 mph in a 35. I pushed the Super Glide to the edge, and I loved every second of it. As I motored along, I realized that I was spotting about ten bikes to every cage?
I believed I have found the motorcycle interstate of the east. This road was truly a biker’s playground, to think that it was built in the ‘30s under the guidance of President Roosevelt, freaks me out. The surface was well maintained an safe. There were plenty of places for cages to pull over an get outta the way, which is just what they do, to my amazement.
After awhile I just got into the ride and motor. The pics I have really don’t do this ride any justice. If you ever do anything on two wheels in your life do this stretch of roadway.
After two gas stops an payin 2.79 a gallon for Hi-Test, I rolled outta the Shenandoah just past Rockfish Gap elev. 1,900 ft. The elevation changes throughout this ride and will keep your ears poppin.
I gassed up again before enterin’ the George Washington National Forest an the Blue Ridge Parkway. I’m just pushin to Roanoke today so I pull out the map an figure that I am about half way there.
Shit I got time to burn. As I’m sittin’ looking at the map in the grass by a guard rail two dressers pull up and two road weary riders pile off of their bikes. We shot the shit, as I burn one; they sure have some strange accents? I ask ’em where their from and they said Ontario. “Far-out,” I replied. “Where ya’all headed?” The Dragon’s Tail was the response. I smiled, fire my bike up and they kinda look at me funny?
“What year is that? One asked me. I tell ’em it’s an ‘05 Shovelhead an pull off.
We play cat an mouse down the road. I was sleepin on the shoulder in the grass when they caught me again. Just eased up on me and kicked me in the foot. They had killed their motors and coasted down hill on me. Guess they figured I was broke down or dead.
I caught them at an overlook and buzzed ’em at about 60 mph. Good laugh for all, and that was the last I saw of ’em.
The elevations on this stretch ran from 649feet, at the James River, to 3950 feet at Terrapin Mt. The run to Roanoke was about 120 miles and was kickass. The speed limits on the BRP were 45mph, so the miles clicked-off somewhat slow. I rolled into town around 6 p.m. and snagged a room that sucked, but what the hell I’m on the road. I checked the oil and it was fine. A steak dinner at Applebee’s and I was done. Day one was sweet. Skyline Dr. was about 106-112 miles and the run down the Blue Ridge Parkway to Roanoke was another 120. Put on about 300 easy miles.
Friday arrived the same as Thursday, clean an clear. I ain’t big on eatin’ in the morning, but as bad as my room was, I cleaned out the Frosted Flakes at the continental breakfast. I drank about a gallon of coffee while waitin’ out the local rush hour. I headed back to my room and packed up, after checkin’ out various nuts an bolts on the sled. I was on the road by 10 a.m. I was headed to the Smoke Out– Fuckin-A, some times life is good.
I was going to ride to highway 321 an get off at Blowing Rock, but I cut the planned route short, due to the fact that I had never ridden this route before. I ended up getting of at RT. 77, which is a trip to ride comin’ outta the mountains
The sights on the Parkway were spectacular as always an the day’s ride was a sad 90 miles to Rt. 77, which resembles Rt. 66. It is just another super slab that runs down hill with a posted 75 mph speed limit. I wasn’t happy to see the limit, with my case pressure acting up, an pushin’ oil outta the breather. After tryin to run 60-65 and getting passed by everything in sight, I said fuck to the wind, and let the big dog eat. The Shovel strolled at 90 and nobody slipped up behind me, ‘cause my breather dumped directly onto my final drive chain. This has a way of creating a 70 wt. rooster tail.
I rode to the magic 100 mile number and looked for a fuel stop. I found one and pulled off at the ramp. I eased up to the pumps an two folks were messin’ with an Ol’ ‘76 FLH. One of them was on a dual plugged 1200 Sportster that looked like a bad piece of equipment. No time for photo opps.. here. I had one hot motor that was down on oil. First thing I said was hey ya’all must be goin to the Smoke Out. It was happening; the closer I got to the event the more I ran into folks on the road to it. I offered help, and my traveling toolbox but was declined, so back to my own situation, gas an oil. I had one qt. of 70 wt. left an poured it in along with a fill-up of Hi-Test. I wiped the oil off the back of my bike and helmet, made a remark about sunscreen, hit the road.
The last leg in, I needed to find a bike shop, which is what I had in mind when I cut the trip short for the day. I was cash heavy. I made it to my exit, which was Statesville, and started looking for Tilley’s Harley-Davidson. It wasn’t hard to find. They scored a giant billboard offering directions. I was in need of a one way breather badly, as I motored down Tilley’s road. I saw a Super Eight Hotel that looked way cleaner than the Days Inn room in Roanoke.
I found Tilley’s, no problem, and the parts guy was as helpful as he could be, to a guy on a Shovel. The Tilley’s in Salisbury was getting raves from the folks I met at the Smoke Out. They directed me to the Nitro Shack in Statesville, and I spent quite a while shooting the shit with the Owner [sorry I can’t remember your name I gave your card away at the S.O.]. The owner has campaigned several drag bikes nationwide and was building several very clean Bobbers and big inch bikes. In the end he called a Auto Parts store, hopin’ what they had would work.
After ridin around town for a bit I found the place, but their breathers had the wrong size nipple for my breather hose. I headed back to the Super Eight an scored a room for $50.00 a night, king sized bed, ect. Once I found my room, I pulled the bags offa the bike, caught a shower an headed to the Smoke Out. I wanted to put faces to names on the web site.
The ride from Statesville was comfortable, and I passed a place called Hendrix Barbeque. The lot was full an that’s all I needed to see. I found the fairgrounds. The place was a little subdued for me, a lot of bikes that were very cool. I had my camera in tow and pulled up, paid my thirty-five dollars, so into the show I went.
I parked in the grass out back an started wanderin’ around takin’ pics for all of ya. After shootin’ for a while, I figured I would find the Stealth an Meanest. Being as how I was worn out. I walked to my bike and used it as my mode of transportation. I found the Bikernet booth, but it was not manned, so I headed back to my bike to find Stealth. It seemed every time I moved, I stop and looked at another bike, shot the shit then moved on. I went by the Indian Larry booth and Paul was there. Got some shots of his stuff but didn’t try to talk. They were swarmed. Eventually I gave up on finding Stealth, and the crew till Saturday. My stomach was sendin’ me distress signals. I cashed in and headed to Hendrix then back to my room.
Once at the hotel the lot was full of bikes an bikers. We all sat around shootin’ the shit till midnight, just talking bikes and where we were from, the ride down ect… a good time and a good end to another good day.
Saturday morning broke on me with the sound of motors comin’ to life an sunshine on my window. I rolled outta bed at seven and walked out to take in a new day. Most of the bikes were gone already, but I did get some shots of this nice little Triumph chop from Colorado. Shot the shit with the owner for a few, as I slugged coffee that was way too weak for my taste. I’m building a ’67, so I had a lot of interest in where he located certain parts. He fired it up and several more folks made their way outta their rooms as we parted ways.
I made my way back to my room to catch a shower an grab film. After more weak coffee, I made my way to the bike an fired it to life. The motor sounded fine, but my inner primary was makin’ one hell of a racket. Figured it was just in need of adjustment, said fuck it and rolled out. I made my way to Salisbury with out seein’ the law, which was a surprise.
When I rolled into the Smoke Out, I knew that today was going to be interesting. There were new faces to put with names and bikes to be photographed.
First thing to do was park in a central location. I was way early and the sun was right for pics, so that was the first thing on the list. I headed to the Indian Larry Legacy booth to shoot a bike I had eyed the day before. I had a half-a-roll of 800 in the camera, but the Indian Larry folks must partied hard the night before
Plan “B” arrived in the form of Stevenson’s Cycle. They had a kick-ass shovel or two there. As I shot their bikes we all shot the shit, and they are good down to earth folks that build some kick-ass shit. I gazed over and a green Shovel caught my eye. I believe it was a Sucker Punch bike, got that one to.
I started to wander around looking for more bikes an actin’ the pro. I knew that soon I would lose the early morning light so I started to make tracks.
I found Departure Bike Works rollin’ there stuff out. Told ’em I was from Bikernet and Bandit had sent me. That got a large laugh outta everyone. We shot the shit, and I asked about the Bonne Belle, which entered me into a conversation about 45 in. flywheels. It was way over my head.
Those guys got there shit together, when it comes to the old iron. Got a shot or two of the Virginian Gentleman. For those of you that don’t know that is some kick-ass bourbon.
I asked the folks at Departure where Stealth Bike works was an they pointed to a booth about twenty feet away. Shit, I’ll be damned, went by it twice yesterday. I walked over and there sat Chopper John, a great guy. I introduced myself and we shot the shit for a bit. The Stealth man and the Meanest weren’t on site yet, so I walked around shootin more bikes. Breezed by the B.N. booth but no one was home.
I ran outta film, so I dumped a roll of 400 professional in the Ol’ Nikon and went to work. I hate to say it, but this whole roll of film disappeared in processing. Sorry folks, a lot of good shots on that roll. I made the rounds and the band started up. Got some shots of the band when I spied a fine thing in a Five Ball Racing shirt doing the same. I got one more shot and turned to walk over an say hello but she was gone. What the hell, I thought? About that time the Burn out pit fired to life and the smell of burnnin rubber descended on the crowd drivin’ it into a two wheeled frenzy.
I looked around the area an realized what all the talk about this get together was about. There was every kind of bike you could think of here, bare bones chops to Dressers, cut down Buells, Triumphs, Hondas an Kaws, all hacked to no frills perfection. I headed back to the S.B.W both and was told where to locate the Stealth and his better half. We finally met and shot the shit for a while. Stealth pointed me to Fritz, Fritz pointed me to Parts man, and we walked over to compare notes on our Shovels.
Then One Eye arrived who introduced me to Jackrocks. We took a group photo, which hasn’t surfaced yet, but we all had a great time, and I truly felt a feeling of brotherhood from all of these guys. All of ya’all are a freakin’ okay in my book, and I’m looking forward to meetin’ ya next year. Jackrocks, myself and One Eye wandered the area shootin’ the shit with some cool folks and just takin’ in the whole scene. The sun lowered and we talked about next year’s location and what that ride may bring. We parted ways, and I headed out. As I left I followed a Pan outta the fairgrounds that was runnin on racin’ fuel. Sweet smellin’ an a fitting end to a great day.
Sunday morning found me packin’ the bike again for two more days on the road. I started my Shovel after turning in my room key an headed out. The weather was perfect and the traffic was light. The Smoke Out was great, but for me it was all about the ride.
I stopped an gassed up before hittin’ the Parkway. While there I noticed that my inner primary was makin’ a racket, but it was Sunday so I just moved on. I made it to my first stop which was Vesta. I stopped there on the way down and liked the place, so I figured I would gas up an get a cup of coffee there. When I pulled into the lot I noticed that the primary chain was makin a hell of a racket. I shut the bike down and started for the tools. I parked next to a Ural three wheeler and soon the owner was givin’ me a hand.
My primary Teflon adjusting shoe was in a melted puddle sittin’ on the bottom of the inner primary. Well, I figured I was fucked, but the Ural rider was a local, and he took me inside to meet one of the waitresses. So happened she rode a Shovel and happened to have an old adjustin’ shoe at her place. I just had to wait for her shift to end and head to her place. I got the bike fixed and was back on the road the next day. I’ll be headed down that way, on the weekends, but that’s another story for another day.
— LTR
105th Report From the Heartland
By Bandit |
Hey Bandit, we just rolled in from Harley’s 105th birthday bash in Milwaukee… hey, aren’t you almost that old? What? You want us to speak slower or louder? Even though we were there for four days, there was no way to take in everything that was happening around town—even though we noticed that the different venues were grouped closer to the city. (Hey, maybe that’s why traffic was so thick.) Our CA plates ID’d us as tourists, and the splittin’ lanes thing didn’t go over very well with the riders stopped on the freeway. Wha do ya mean “splittin’ lanes” isn’t nation wide? One warning was enough for us to be extra careful not to get caught again… I mean we weren’t about to cook our motors by sittin’ in an endless line of door slammers, sucking up exhaust fumes.
We were lucky enough to get into the Harley museum early Thursday morning and that was a mind blower in itself. We could’ve probably spent a week in there and still not taken it all in. From the museum we skated city streets to Miller Park for the H.O.G. deal, damm, we parked nearly a mile away, but once on the inside things were cool (figuratively, not temperature-wise), we walked around taking in the sights and then hung out over in the beer garden tent, people watching and listening to the bands playing on the main stage or in the beer garden tent stage. We did venture out to check out the stunt teams, but could only catch a glimpse of the action between rows of people, but it sounded good with the screeching tires and the ooh’s and aah’s of the crowd.
The local Harley dealers in the area all had goings on from their own band line-up, to bikini bike washes, stunt shows, and even Jesse James. The local dealers are Hal’s H-D, House of Harley-Davidson, Milwaukee H-D, Racine H-D, Suburban Motors H-D/Buell, Uke’s H-D/Buell, Wisconsin H-D and West Bend H-D.
The factory was allowing tours of some of their plants and we went through the Capitol Drive facility. The Capitol Drive plant builds the Sportster engines and also houses the remanufacturing line, where your Evo, Twin Cam 88 or 96 engine can be brought back to “factory fresh”. Another lesser-known product output of Capitol Drive is the maintenance of non-current parts (over 800, one part number dating back to 1915), everything from four-speed clutch plates and starter gears to panhead and shovelhead tune-up kits.
The in-house alternator manufacturing line was mesmerizing to watch, as each stator pole was wrapped in wire and then the completed unit was tested. Capitol Drive also handles all of the powdercoating for the company as well as “Toolroom” maintenance for the other H-D plants, along with designing and building certain prototype and racing parts. We weren’t the only ones captivated by the plant goings on, there was a solid line of riders going through the Capitol Drive plant from the rear door all the way to the front, with the only break in the line was for a fork-lift truck to pass down an isle.
The Pilgrim Road plant (further north) also had tours but we weren’t able to get there in a timely manner, (the Pilgrim road plant is where the big twin powertrains are built). At the company headquarters parking lot on Juneau Avenue was a stage for the incoming rides and the opening ceremonies, along with the opportunity to “kiss the bricks” of the original factory. The usual other festival venues hosted their fair share of activities, some to a lesser degree, for example the Summer Fest grounds at the Lake Front featured the Potawatomi (Indian Tribe) Pavillion which had a small but informative display by the USW (United Steelworkers) and the IAM (International Association of Machinists and Aerospace Workers) of the effort required to build a Harley-Davidson Motorcycle from the early years up to today complete with photos of early shop practices. In the same pavilion, (up near the stage) there was a seminar being given for woman riders—great, maybe we would get lucky—topics included vehicle maintenance, pre-ride checks, eating healthy on the road and (our favorite) helmet hair tips.
–Weezdog
Scott.Wiese@qg.com
There were also instructions on how to safely pick up a motorcycle that has fallen over (we learned from this demonstration ourselves).Further along on the grounds, actually out on a point of land jutting out into the lake, was what was described as a H.O.G. hospitality tent where you could relax and purchase discounted food and drink. But we were a half a mile in walking to get there, so instaed we went next door to the Discovery building where there was an excellent display of Harley’s design of new and custom styling.
The Discovery building came complete with air conditioning and a short loop movie showing skateboarders defying gravity then strapping their boards to their bikes and riding to the next skate park or dry swimming pool. We really liked the air conditioning, so we stayed to study the display a little longer. Back out in the humidity, we trudged back to the bikes hoping to find a nice little bar over on Water Street to get a quick meal and a cool drink.
Now here’s the part you’ll really like… 2008 also marks the 100th year H-D has been building Police Motorcycles. So, of course, at the beginning of the parade through town on Saturday morning were (you guessed it), a hundred or so cops on bikes. Kinda glad they went on past—if you know what I mean.
Over the course of the last few days we had seen and heard over a dozen or so bands which were pretty much everywhere we had gone. But the one band that closed out the whole party was Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band at Veterans Park on Saturday night, what a show. That’s all.
Bonneville Reports
By Bandit |
THE W8LESS MASTER HEADS TO BONNEVILLE– After a long awaited front tire change Friday after the U P S truck arrived, I hauled ass from San Jose late Friday evening,
ADDICTION …. LIFE in the fast lane .
MORE ADRENALINE please. DESTINATION … Wendover , Utah , 644 miles one way .
DREAM…150 mph on a 2004 Dyna with 35,000 miles on a 124 inch motor .
Spent the night in Reno arriving at the track 3 o'clock Sat afternoon. Track closed due to wind .
Early Sunday morning the last day of the event .. track closed. At noon–perfect weather, adrenaline started to flow.
RACE READY? I hoped. Mirrors removed, lenses taped, hot rod and gear scrutinized by officials. Rode to the starters area to be cleared for a trip to the starting line.
STARTING LINE: Once the track cleared the starter waved a huge green flag, giving me the go ahead to HAUL ASS…your mind goes blank, your eyes are straight ahead it was time to ease into low gear (ADRENALINE IN HIGH GEAR ) and idle out. I had 2 miles to get up to speed. Around 120 or so my feet shifted to the rear pegs, head down, knees in tight and preparing for a hand shift into 5th gear. Then I held onto the front fork with my left hand and held the throttle wide open .Mile markers were flying past and my '04 Dyna hot rod purred like a sewing machine on a slot track, what- a – fukin – rush .
Run # 1 147.098 kilo
kilo 140.428 mile
Run # 2 98.036 WTF happened ?
run #3 145.248 kilo
145.143 mile
My last pass was made at 12:02 pm, the last pass of the 2008 Bubs Event. Next to the worlds fastest motorcycle.
Thanks B U B Racing Inc. & the AMA for the opportunity to attend and participate in your event.
Time to return to San Jose.
Hey Salt Flats wait until next year , I have got a surprise for you . In a mere day you too can accumulate a life time of memories .
Home again in San Jose .
Over 35,000 miles on a 124 in motor and runnin strong, thanks to :
Randy Torgenson
Hyperformance Motors
for building a near bullet proof motor .
Ron Williams , Jeff , Kevin & Ralph
Hardtailz
Santa Clara , Ca.
for the un-believable tune up .
R & R Motors , S & S Cycle , Horsepower Inc throttle body, Daytona Twin – Tec computer , R B Racing pipe , K & N , Storz (front end), Sputhe (motor isolators), Brembo Calipers, W8LESSROTORS and pads, Supermax Belt Drives ( Phil ), Corbin Saddle , Red Line fluids & Avon Venom tires .
With the support of these friends and products a 147.098 mph was made a reality .
Thanks a million ,
Ray c wheeler # 1944
w8lessrotors.com
GINA WOODS' BONNEVILLE EXPERIENCE–Bonneville 2008 was…UNBELIEVABLE! I really don’t have the words for the magnitude of feelings I felt at this event! Not only were the people the most righteous people you’d EVER want to meet but family, funny, brotherhood, SISTERHOOD, & so much more!
The first day I got there on the Flats after flyin into Salt Lake City and having the Wendover Casino realize that ‘NO there really was NO shuttle that was going to pick Gina up at the airport’….so I decided to get a rental car…thanks to Santa Claus’s big suggestion ( “no there is no one to pick you up 1 ½ hours away”) well of course they were out of compacts – in today’s economy – that’s all you want, so I was stuck with a Mountaineer… okay I am off… I drove and the anticipation got the better of me…..I rode with the air on windows up, air off windows down, air on windows down, everything off, everything on, wow I just couldn’t wait!
An hour and a half later looking at all the beautiful scenery – YES UTAH is gorgeous! I arrived at the “Flats” & I was immediately welcomed by some Brits (Peter & co) at registration that were not only friendly but very friendly…they asked me to take a picture with their Monkey after all…hee hee a little stuffed animal guy.. then I was off…. no time to diddle-daddle!
I found my crew with open arms.. and they were pretty much in the same mode as they seemed to have been in during periods of the day…hurry up and wait. Unfortunately a lot of stuff goes on at the Flats if you just wait for it!
I immediately got clued in with who’s who and what’s what by my wonderful friend Julie. She’s been a Buell Brother/Sister groupie for a year now & I think is officially now part of the “crew” team. So it was an afternoon of showing or at least telling Gina the “ropes”: Thursday was an eye opening experience of how much goes into all this…..WOW is the word that really sums it up. Met with a lot of old friends and was intrigued by the new ones! Met wonderful ladies that were out there for the first time as well!
Friday brought much anticipation but as always it’s “Wait your Turn”…that’s okay we had plenty to do to get Indian Joe to break a world record on his yellow banana Buell Brother Racing machine! You can’t believe the focus & concentration this man has to do what he has to do. What a great guy ….doesn’t socialite a lot before the races but afterwords..give that man a OLD STYLE and he’s stylin!
Never before have I met guys that can put serious and good times together and make it work right! These guys are focused by day and fun by nite..with a lot of responsibility always intact! The entire crew was able to hold their own speeds during the day – but due to high winds many were postponed until Saturday’s runs.
Saturday brought much anticipation amongst teams, individuals and die-hard “Run What You Brung” folks with last minute repairs, modifications, upgrades or whatever they needed to get out there & do it!
Listening to the many guys and gals all week was PRICELESS! So many of these people have been doing this for so long, to accomplish their dreams so hard.. It truly is a family type community that jokes, kids but nevertheless will lend you their tools or knowledge and then WATCHOUT… it’s run time!
Soooo I got to make two passes…both on the Buell Sister Racing Bike a 1995 Buell S2 #455, which I got 115.538 mph! Just 15 mph under the record! That probably doesn’t seem like much to some but to me – ‘getting into position’ at the start line was, was…was AMAZING! I felt pretty small out there with all that Salt, Sky and lots of room to just go! What a humbling feeling to know so many greats had come before me, some that made dreams come true and some that died trying. Yes it was very humbling….
The Saturday nite banquet was pretty neat. You certainly can tell most of these people know each other. They laugh at each other give awards to each other and really have a lot of pride for their fellow competitors. It really gives you a sense of wanting to be a part of something so cool. In that particular room was a lot of blood, sweat, tears and laughs! Dennis Manning and his crew do a top –notch job!
People come to Bonneville from all over the world – the Buell Brothers/ Buell Sisters Racing Team had the pleasure to sip a few cold ones last nite with the guys from New Zealand that ran 250 something mph (after 200 does it really matter..omg!) The stories and tales that you can hear by listening is incredible.
I plan to be a Bonneville storyteller myself someday…I’ll keep coming back…Thanks to the crew at DGY Motorsports in Downers Grove , IL for sponsoring me in awesome racing gear and a big special thanks to Santa Claus (whom everyone loves), for giving me the opportunity to accomplish something I would have never had the chance too do! You have great presence amongst us and I am proud to be on your team…so what kinda bike are we going to build me for next year?
–Gina Woods
gina@openroadradio.com
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Sturgis 2008 Bikernet Brouhaha Blast
By Bandit |
Generally, I write stories of rides, women and open roads, but not this time. I was a trailer queen, so you might as well shred this page and go back to the Bikernet Garage for a tech. For 10-15 years, I've built bikes and ridden 1,500 miles to the Badlands. Then we caught the Bonneville bug for the last couple of years, but 2008 rolled around and I muttered, “Wait just a goddamn minute. We need to clean up the shop before striking out on a new project.”
I musta been drunk. I love new projects and usually can't resist. But I held my mud.
We were in the process of finishing a bobber for Nyla Olsen, the Queen of Bikernet, with the extreme unflinching talents of Kent Weeks at Lucky Devil Metal Works in Houston.
There's a 45 flathead roller waiting for an engine with a K-model top end at Departure Bike Works in Richmond, Virginia and I'm collecting parts for a '29 Peashooter I'm building for Bonneville '09. That was enough loose ends, and I'm a stickler for finishing projects.
Then Michael Lichter called and said, “We're producing another art exhibit in Sturgis and you're invited to display the Salt Shaker.” I was deeply honored until he told me the schedule.
“I need the bike a couple of days before bike week starts, and I know you're a good welder. Could you make a sculpture?”
Mike's an old and dear friend. I gave him his first Easyriders assignment to cover Sturgis in 1981.
“Hell, Bandit, you've got three weeks,” he said.
Planning for Sturgis is a constant test of patience and versatility. Any bro who has tried to muster a couple of other riders together for a cross-country run knows this. Two will fall out, one might lose his job, and another’s old lady will threaten break-up. For months, the team will fluctuate, falter, stumble, and break down. Finally, the day before kick-off, unexpected players emerge and the ride begins. Hell, just ask Johnny Humble.
Next flex in our riding schedule came from Carrie Repp of R&R Promotions and Thunder Road in Sturgis.
“You're not doing anything,” asked Carrie. “How about throwing a one-day bike show party at the Thunder Road on Friday? Oh, how about a series of interviews with Steven Tyler of Aerosmith and RedWing Motorcycles daily? Wait, how about bringing the Assalt Weapan (World's Fastest Panhead) to Sturgis for the Seminole Hard Rock Roadhouse tour to support your year of the veteran’s charities?”
Holy shit, my Sturgis agenda was shot to the moon! I reached out to Berry Wardlaw of Accurate Engineering, who has the Assalt Weapan on his lift for tuning and Maxton Mile preparations.
“Hey, Berry, can you bring it to Sturgis?”
“Sure man,” Berry said.
Then I picked up the phone and called Commander Edge, the dusty Emperor of all nine Smoke Out events.
“A show in Sturgis, no problem,” he said and my life was cooked for the next eight months. But like the plans for any run, shit happens, changes and fluctuates. We kept driving forward.
When we finally pulled out for the Black Hills, the active team behind the Bikernet Brouhaha consisted of myself, Nyla Olsen, George Fleming the artist, Commander Edge, Seth Doulton and Spike of Horsepower Promotions and the Hollister Event, Ray Wheeler of W8Less Rotors, Jeff Najar of Horse Power Marketing, Bob Osias of Metric Thunder, Ken Conte, Dar Holdsworth of Brass Balls Bobbers, and Barb and Lynn from Thunder Road. We were a whiskey-oiled team prepared to rock the Thunder Dome with a full day of entertainment.
Hell, we even had sponsors. It started with Dupont's Hot Hues offering to supply our 1st place trophies. Kevin Baas volunteered to work with me on the best of show trophies, which turned out killer with the help of Jim's Custom Paint. Custom Chrome came on board next and supplied goodie bags and support for all our 5-Ball trophies, which consisted of real 5-Balls. Spectro Oils came forward with 2nd place oil changes for everyone. Then Biker's Choice came on board with Hard Krome and Road Burner to help with over $15,000 in exhaust system prizes. Joel from Headwinds stepped up as did Tom and the gang at Saddleman. Torian Leathers and D&D supplied more prizes and gift certificates. W8Less Rotors Ray helped with every aspect of the show, including sweeping the floor, and gave several of our winners a discount on sets of W8Less Rotors. Biker Pros, Metric Thunder, The Horse and Roadhouse Brand also stepped up to support the first Bikernet Brouhaha.
I was involved with Easyriders Bike Shows for years, but this one-day extravaganza excited me. I've been around a long time and my vision of shows is tainted by years of experience, but the more I discussed the show with Smokin' Edge, the more my mind started to sizzle with excitement. This wasn't any show; it wasn't just a band and girl bit. It was beginning to smack of a circus wrapped around a bike show. The edgy agenda called for contests, girls, bands, burnouts, wet t-shirts, game-show quizzes and interviews. Our schedule called for something new every 45 minutes and the Commander had it nailed in writing. Every element was documented in detail, when and who was responsible. No wonder he retired from military intelligence.
In addition, the Thunder Dome housed the Michael Lichter annual art exhibit and Strokers Dallas, Rick Fairless's wood shingled bar, starring hot waitresses and psychedelic motorcycles. Rick was on hand every day to sign posters and demonstrate that long-haired hippies with tie-dyed tank tops still exist.
The Thunder Dome, a massive football field-sized tent, that allows lots of natural light inside, perfect for bikes shows, was surrounded by a massive paved Thunder Road vendor area built on the perimeter of the Glencoe Camping facility, one of the largest, most noted in the Badlands. Gary Liphold, the boss of this arena recently added a serious concert venue, so we were among good company.
With the assistance of Ray Ambler and George Fleming, we designed the Brouhaha logo, magazine ads, billboards, banners, promotional card and t-shirts. With Kevin Baas and Nyla Olsen, we built trophies until we were blue in the face. We had conference calls, discussed and changed the judging classes several times and stressed over one dinky detail after the other. Until we shipped the banners, hoped they didn’t get lost in the unrelenting shuffle of packages heading toward Sturgis and finished packing our Ford F-150 with a long bed, we couldn't relax.
That old F-150, clocked with over 140,000 miles, still ran like a dream. I prayed to the desert tarantula as we sped across the Mojave toward the open west, what's left of it. Hell, if Billy Lane rode a 60-year-old flathead 74 to Sturgis, my truck would handle it fine. I won't clamor through the road trip, since you're reading the Billy Lane and Doc saga and can enjoy the Johnny, Full Face, experience from Texas. Great story. I'll just add a couple of thoughts from my roadside notes.
Everywhere we went, I looked longingly for Subways for my perfect tuna sandwiches. I only saw them between meals, not when I was hungry. We were concerned about the truck fulla of my old Shovelhead, so everywhere we slept was across from the police department, a no-no in the past. Even in Sturgis, our pad was half a block to the Sturgis Jail. High security. I'm not kidding. In Provo, Utah, the cop station was directly across from our B&B and then at the Z-Bar Motel in Buffalo, Wyoming, same thing. As we unloaded our clothes into one of 20 log cabins, I noticed the authorities parked in uniformed order across the highway.
It started to rain in Utah and we pulled off the freeway at a franchise junction. You name it; it was there, from Home Depot to Quiznos. We grabbed a box of heavy-duty trash bags and wrapped all our boxes and luggage. It never rained again.
Since we were headed toward the largest event of the year, you'd think we'd run alongside riders, but that wasn't the case. We only witnessed riders heading west or south. I looked at stock bikes, dressers and Softails, and wondered about our outlaw future. Are we becoming Toyotaized? You know, open the hood of a Toyota and look inside. Even the west is groping for its existence as Home Depot and Walmarts take over the world until every town is the same as the next. We gotta do something about that.
“I'll bet there cutting Sturgis short to make it to the 105th,” a Casper, Wy rider in a gas station told me. I remember seeing riders from the east pass through Sturgis on their way west to Yellowstone and beyond, but it sure seemed strange.
We rolled into Sturgis just in time for the Michael Lichter Industry Party at Thunder Road Tuesday afternoon. We unloaded the truck in Sturgis and it started to rain. We jammed to the party and it rained harder. We got inside just about the time the hail and micro-burst, 100 mph downdraft winds, kicked off the roar of city-warning alarms, like bomb threats.
“Please move to the west end of the building and huddle under the Strokers Sturgis wood shingle awnings,” said the ominous announcer.
John Reed took the opportunity to grab a plate and hit the empty buffet line.
“That means you, John,” the announcer barked.
The tent was designed with a steel structure and I suspect the guidance was meant to avoid death from lightening strikes. Even locals moved quickly under the wood shingle awnings.
Mike's exhibit is always a top reflection of the artist side of our industry from bikes to sculptures and various other art forms. This year, the display included bikes built by non-pro builders. That was a tough assignment. He devoted the exhibit to Johnny Chop and called “Stay Gold”, and then went in search of guys who painted, sculpted or built bikes, but not as pros.
I was honored to have the Salt Shaker on display, our first World Land Speed Record holder (145 mph), and a sculpture I made specifically for Mike’s display, since I don't create sculptures for a living. I recommended a couple of artists, and Bikernet's Chris Kallas was invited to show off some of his painting abilities. Hell, John Reed was also selected to make a sculpture, although I could never figure out what the hell it was.
Sturgis was in full swing, and Wednesday, I had a mission to deliver the my handmade Best Panhead Award (with the help of Kevin Bass) to the Broken Spoke for John Green's Easyriders Ride In Show. While checking the bikes and hanging out in the Broken Spoke Bar dust, I ran into Matt Olsen, a young stock '37 Knuckle rider who offered me a pulled pork lunch downtown, then we rode to Lonnie Isem's brand new antique motorcycle restoration shop, Competition Distribution (www.competitiondist.com, 605-720-1903) on the edge of town. What a rush and display of historic bikes! They basically build 1905-1929 Harleys for customers all over the globe. Plus they distribute VL, UL, FL and EL parts from the '30s. What a fantastic historic facility. Make a point to visit it or order a catalog and get a tease.
Matt is a very passionate member of the AMCA, Antique Motorcycle Club of America, and we may work with him on a 45 Flatty raffle promotion to encourage younger folks to join the AMCA. He also writes for a couple of magazines and may start to contribute to Bikernet.
“We need to get folks to stop and help broke-down riders,” Matt said. “I ran outta gas and 70 riders went by before a woman stopped to help me.”
We discussed a uniform signal for distress. It's dangerous to quickly lean off an interstate at 75 mph and stop. We stopped for a couple of riders on the way home and both times, they were parked in the emergency lane for rain gear or a smoke break. Lonnie's place pumped my inspiration for building a 1915-styled bike for the ride to Sturgis next year. I'm stoked!
I made the mandatory Hamster run from Spearfish to downtown Sturgis Thursday afternoon, a rolling bike show. One of the many rushes of Sturgis is wandering the shows, the streets and the Hamster rally, checking bikes and discussing builds with builders and riders. I came away inspired, relieved, informed and fulla new resources. For instance, Don Hotop is one of the unsung masters of bike building. When you straddle a bike from Don, that bastard will run until your grandson is old enough to ride. His bikes are like finely tuned watches. We discussed custom dresser bags and he showed me a super cool bagger he built with Redneck bags.
“These are cool, but check out Kawasaki bags and brackets,” Don said. “They're a breeze to install and inexpensive.” I took notes and decided the FXR bike we're building will become our mud flap girl bike inspired by Arlin Fatland from 2Wheelers in Denver.
After the Hamster gathering, I had one goal: to see the Bikernet Brouhaha rock the Thunder dome. I apologize for not making it to some of the other shows, but I was on a mission and had to see it through or die trying. The day kicked off with Seth, Spike and Lynn setting up bikes, but there weren't many. Edge and I were concerned. Thunder Road hosted shows all week. Maybe the bros took off or were burned out on shows. Monday, the Horse Mag show rocked the tent, followed by the Metzeler show, the Dave Perewitz Paint competition, then the Rat's Hole show and finally us. Edge and I paced the concrete deck as the clocked ticked close to the bewitching hour. Edge made some calls and I drank whiskey and prayed to the Bourbon gods. Something worked. Over 60 bikes pulled in and the show filled out. We attempted to make it a show for everyone from bobbers to car bikes, dressers, choppers and prostreets. We had a trike and sidecar category and honored metric customs and race bikes.
It worked! We signed up a broad assortment of top-of-the-line customs in virtually every category. Nyla made us sandwiches as we discussed judging with our experienced staff, including Chris Callen, the editor of Cycle Source, Bob Osias, the owner of Metric Thunder and the Editor of Bikernet Metric. Bob Kay played along and he's been in this business for over a century. We looked around for John Reed. “He's so flaky he could hide his own Easter eggs,” Edge said.
Here's the rundown of the day's activities. The show opened at 9:00 for registration and check-in. At 11:00, Edge and I panicked and learned that someone discovered water on Mars. Fortunately, as more bikes rolled in, the band kicked off to sooth my nerves.
Ray Wheeler was god of the Tattoo contest and was hell-bent to make it strong. At 11:45, we had contestants from all over the globe, including a tattooist from New Zealand. A brother took the contest with original Polynesian tribal work and won a Torian Leather shirt.
We immediately ran into the Fake Orgasm contest, headed up by Bob Kay and former Biker's Choice VP, VP of American Iron Horse, designer of the Dallas Chopper and President of Torian Leathers. Although everyone wants to have an orgasm, few want to share their techniques, but we found just the right girls. One squeaked and the other rocked the stage. She knew what was going on, and I was the judge. I won't go into why I was sold on being the judge. It's too embarrassing.
Ray Wheeler was god of the Tattoo contest and was hell-bent to make it strong. At 11:45, we had contestants from all over the globe, including a tattooist from New Zealand. A brother took the contest with original Polynesian tribal work and won a Torian Leather shirt.
We immediately ran into the Fake Orgasm contest, headed up by Bob Kay and former Biker's Choice VP, VP of American Iron Horse, designer of the Dallas Chopper and President of Torian Leathers. Although everyone wants to have an orgasm, few want to share their techniques, but we found just the right girls. One squeaked and the other rocked the stage. She knew what was going on, and I was the judge. I won't go into why I was sold on being the judge. It's too embarrassing.
Thunder Road, with the edgy master designer, built the safest, strongest, heaviest, iron burnout pit in the world. Still, we couldn't find contestants. We'll be back next year and we'll find a tire sponsor to switch out fried tires in front of the audience, so a brother doesn't have to worry about the ride home. At 1:30, the Sturgis Calendar Girls set up their slinky selves and signed calendars, while in the next booth, Russell Mitchell signed T-shirts.
We discussed a bike manufacturer round table and a guitar raffle with Steven Tyler. Steven raffled off a guitar for Red Wing motorcycles every day of the week and drew a huge crowd. On the day of our event, Steven had to fly out for another engagement. He was promoting the Red Wing Motorcycles – cool looking bikes.
It got to be 3:30 and Edge set up a bed next to the stage and a fake windowsill. The kickstart contest (Honey, I'm Home!) began with a brother being busted by her old man. He had to jump out of the sack, put on his (or her) shoes, dive out the window, push his bike outside and kickstart it. We had three contestants; one was a woman who used my Shovelhead. Nicole, from Australia, came in second. What a crowd pleaser.
Next year, we're launching the Scott Long look-alike contest. We found a wig in San Pedro that makes any unshaven man look like Scott Long. What a laugh riot that will be and Scott said he'll judge it. Tom Monroe slipped the wig on and jump into bed with one of the guys, (Honey I’m home winner). That incident is still under investigation. Edge was forced by knife point to put it on. He looks miserable, huh?
Then the lights were turned down and the stage lit to enhance the Bikernet Brouhaha wet T-Shirt Contest, which was coordinated by the Biker's Choice dealer's rep of the year, Doris Taylor. Doris and the girls counted the cash for the winners and created some lovely fluorescent gift bags for the half naked girls.
And the winner was bubbly Liz….
At 4:45, the band settled the crowd down and let the experienced judging staff finish the tough task of picking winners. Actually, it isn't tough, if each judge follows the strict and fair Bikernet Code of Judging. At 5:30, we kicked off our final contest on the Thunder Dome stage, the Ms. Bikernet 2008 Contest, headed by Dar Holdsworth, the supreme admiral behind Brass Balls Bobbers and Darwin Motorcycle Company. This contest wasn't about cup size, nipple erections or camel toes, but desire, knowledge and biker character.
Each contestant was given the exact same series of questions about the industry, asked to find Daytona Bike Week on a California map and describe a series of motorcycle engine internal parts. The Commander kept it light, funny and entertaining as several girls attempted for find Daytona on the coast of California, but one girl kicked his ass with direct and intelligent answers coated in a sarcastic spin. Nicole Brosing, a tattoo artist from Australia, was direct and to the point. I even brought a broken and battered Panhead intake valve from back in the '70s.
“And that's a busted and beat valve from a hurting engine,” Nicole answered and sealed her fate. The Aussie was the winner.
She ended up riding back to Los Angeles and helped us weld the good Dr. Hamster's trailer back together.
The sun was hot Friday afternoon in the vented tent as the clock hit 5:30 and we decided to move up the Bike Show Awards Ceremony. At the end of the day, we were generally pleased with the class rundown. We ended up adding a Pro Street class at the last minute, and a couple of classes weren't filled, but that's cool. It's better to be saddled with too many trophies than to run short. Here's the winning rundown and awards:
Best of Show winners received Bandit and Kevin Baas custom Trophies painted by Jim Murillo's Custom Paint plus a set of $800 exhaust pipes from Hard Krome.
1st Place – Jim Giuffra
2nd Place – Johnny Gil
3rd Place – Paul Wrdeman
American Manufactured Class
1st Place – Joseph Castaneda who won a set of D&D Exhaust pipes.
2nd Place – Albert De Herrera won an oil change from Spectro Oils and $100 gift certificate from W8Less Rotors
Metric Manufactured Class
1st Place Liz Short – who also won a set of Road Burner Exhaust pipes.
2nd Place – Kurt Peterson who received a oil change from Spectro Oil and a $100 gift Certificate from W8Less Rotors
Touring Bikes
1st Place – Martin Ramirez
2nd Place – Dennis Pierce
Trikes & Sidecar Bikes
1st Place – Tim Rotert
Auto Bikes (any bike with an automotive engine)
1st Place – David Ward
2nd Place – David Ward
Radical Chopper Category
1st Place – Jesse
2nd Place – Buddy Schulz
Bobber Category
1st Place – Johnny Gil
2nd Place – Jeff Fording
Early Chopper Style
1st Place – Paul Wideman
2nd Place – Andrew Williams
American Manufacture Custom
1st Place – Robert Harris
2nd Place – Dan Dabney
Pro Street Class
1st Place – Nicolas Chauvin
2nd Place – Doug Jahnke
Sport Bikes
1st Place – Dave & Chris
2nd Place – Critter
Antique Bikes
1st Place – Chica
Antique Custom
1st Place – Curt Lout
2nd Place – Ken Conte
Judge’s Choice
Robert Harris
Best Paint
Liz Short
Best Design
Larry Rak
Best Detail
Jason Ferguson
Best Sheetmetal
Doug Jahnke
At the end of the day, over 60 bikes competed in the first Bikernet Brouhaha Bike Show. We had a terrific crowd for Friday, but next year we may move the show up in the week. We felt positive about the show and upbeat towards next year as we packed the Salt Shaker from the Michael Lichter exhibit, my sculpture, my rusty Shovelhead and bags of trash bag-wrapped luggage. Then we cut a dusty trail back to the coast.
The second day on the road home, we nearly ran outta gas in Chama, New Mexico and scavenged all the gas outta the bikes in a closed Chevron station. We decide to spend the night in the town of 500 and had the best chow of the trip at the old historic High Country Restaurant, owned by a 6'6″ 25-year-old lanky sort who had to duck to scramble into the bar to make change and bartend. Busy guy, but terrific food and the Chama Trails Inn across the street was a cool place to stay.
Gorco Choppers in Chama, NM.
There you have it, Sturgis 2008, and already we're making plans and building bikes for 2009. Looks like the Alaskan Trek might become a reality for 2009. Imagine meeting in Seattle, grabbing a Bellingham ferry for a three-day coastal tour to Anchorage. One day and we'll be in Fairbanks, then a half-day to the Arctic Circle. Then back to Seattle and across to Sturgis. It's all about the ride, right.
Hang on for a 1915 Paughco/Crazyhorse/Baker build for the Alaska/Sturgis adventure, the plans, the alterations, the next Bikernet Brewha (yep, we're changing the spelling of the name) and the girls going with us. Next year will be packed with adventures. Hang on.
Just a bunch of images I took.
On behalf of all who were involved with the 2008 Bikernet Brouhaha, we'd like to thank all of our sponsors once more. Without their support the event would have been a flop.
A personal thank you goes out to Edge, Ray Wheeler, Bob Osias, Jeff Najar, Seth Doulton, Spike, Doris Taylor, Nicole, Skeet, Roadside Marty, Dary Holdsworth, the family in Sturgis that gave up their beautiful home, the nice lady at the B&B in Provo, UT, my kids for taking care of the animals and not trashing the house while we were gone… I'm sure we're missing someone but that's enough. ~Nyla
Harley-Davidson 105th Anniversary
By Bandit |
Editor's Note: Doc Robinson, from Australia, a journalist for Heavy-Duty Magazine in Australia, criss-crossed the United State this summer covering everything that rolled from Billy Lane to Hollister, Sturgis, Victory and the 105th. It's been a blast. Watch for more of his reports as we close out 2008.
All week bikers have been pouring into Milwaukee from all points of the compass, from many countries across the globe and the streets of the city are ringing with not only American voices but also dozens of foreign accents and languages.
Wednesday afternoon, motorcycle industry icon Willie G. Davidson kicked off the Harley-Davidson 105th Anniversary Celebration at the famed Juneau Ave site, following a brilliant warm up by young Muscular Dystrophy sufferer and MDA Goodwill Ambassador Luke Christie.
Willie G. brought his family on stage and introduced them to the crowd to thunderous applause, strengthening both the perception and the fact that there are unbroken links going back to the four founders. Following the brief ceremony, the music kicked off and the party began – loud, fast and hard!
Thursday was the day for H.O.G. members with the Club H.O.G. celebrating their 25th Anniversary at Miller Park.
To say it was well attended would be a gross under-estimate.
In fact it turned into an absolutely seething mass of bikers and biker women who were there to party hearty and indeed, party hearty they did to the accompaniment of a swag of bands, stunt teams, drill teams, the one and only Bubba Blackwell and more, much more.
From Joan Jett and the Blackhearts through the Billy Bob Thornton band (that is NOT a misprint) to the penultimate act, Kid Rock, Miller Park shook, rocked and rolled for the twelve hours of the H.O.G. celebration.
What these guys (deaf H.O.G. members) save on not needing to change out their pipes, they can spend on beer. And if you can’t hear the music, well you can still ogle the chicks.
Friday’s activities seemed to centre around visiting dealerships with long line-ups to even get into the parking lot, but with a cool range of vendors at each spot. Baker Drivetrain reported great business from their display at the Italian Community Centre event.
Hal’s Harley-Davidson was wall-to-wall people checking out the various vendors and queuing for a considerable time to purchase items from the dealership and Brian Klock’s display of cool bikes at the Kustom Baggers lot drew many spectators.
Milwaukee Harley-Davidson, the only ‘true’ Milwaukee dealership, was stuffed to the gills with bikers lining up for t-shirts, some cool, some cute and some lame.
They also had a heap of major vendors including Corbin, and some cute young ladies carrying on that long-held tradition of the bikini bike wash.
You run into all sorts of people at an event like the 105th, and here we see Biker Rogue struggling with the controls of a new fangled digital camera. Onya buddy. Hey, I made up the ‘struggling with the controls’ bit; Rogue is a bike photographer par excellence as long time readers of Bikernet well know.
As a biker who is a fanatic about riding a clean motorcycle, I found myself irresitably drawn back to the wash, time and again, to see if I could glean any special tits . . . err, I mean tips on getting a better shine on my scoot.
Friday night the Summerfest Grounds rocked to the sound of bands such as the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, Los Lonely Boys, ZZ Top and the Black Crows but afterward began the street parties . . .
. . . parties for block after block filled with biker’s doing what they love best after riding, partying!
It is the 105th CELEBRATION after all.
Where there’s no room for attitude, dude, although the gay glasses definitely mute the implied threat.
Block after block.
Come back tomorrow for Parade Shots–wild.
Saturday, the biggest day of them all kicked off with the 105th Anniversary Parade where the streets of Milwaukee reverberated to the sound of thousands upon thousands of Harley-Davidson motorcycles who have made the pilgrimage “home”.
And now for a word from Harley-Davidson:
–Doc
HARLEY-DAVIDSON GAVE ENTHUSIASTS 105 REASONS TO COME HOME– Riders Joined 25 Cross-Country Journeys to Milwaukee From 105 Starting Cities to Celebrate Motor Company's 105th Anniversary
MILWAUKEE (Aug. 16, 2008) – For once, it's the journey and the destination.To celebrate its 105th Anniversary, Harley-Davidson organized one of the most ambitious organized rides in its illustrious history. The Motor Company's Ride Home featured a motorcycle pilgrimage starting in 105 different cities across America that converged into 25 cross-country routes. The ride, and thousands of Harley-Davidson enthusiasts rolled into Milwaukee, the birthplace of Harley-Davidson, on Aug. 27, 2008.
While in Milwaukee, Harley enthusiasts were treated to three days of motorcycles, music and more. Highlights included more than 20 concerts including performances by Daughtry and Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band.
“The Ride Home was built around three passions shared by all Harley-Davidson owners–their motorcycle, the road and their fellow riders,” said Bill Davidson, Vice President of Core Customer Marketing, Harley-Davidson Motor Company. “The fact that we've been able to integrate these passions while celebrating 105 years of the world's best motorcycles makes it an even sweeter experience.”
Ride for the Cause
Along with celebrating 105 years of great motorcycles, the Motor Company also celebrated its 28-year relationship with the Muscular Dystrophy Association (MDA) by working with the Harley family of employees, dealers and riders to help raise money to find a cure for neuromuscular disease.
During the 100th Anniversary, the Motor Company's extended family helped raise a record $7.1 million for the MDA.
MDA Received Over Six Million From the 105th
MILWAUKEE — (August 30, 2008) Harley-Davidson 105th Anniversary fundraising for the Muscular Dystrophy Association reached $6.7 million surpassing its original $6 million goal for 105th Anniversary fundraising. The 2008 total brings cumulative 28-year fundraising for MDA to more than $71 million. The announcement was made during Harley-Davidson's Anniversary celebration in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. The announcement will be broadcast on the annual Jerry Lewis MDA Labor Day Telethon.
Harley-Davidson Chief Executive Officer Jim Ziemer was joined by Motor Company President and Chief Operating Officer Jim McCaslin and Senior Vice-President and Chief Styling Officer Willie G. Davidson to make the final check announcement.
Harley-Davidson MDA Goodwill Ambassador Luke Christie accepted the $6.7 million check on behalf of the children and families served by MDA. “The Harley-Davidson family rides for us,” said Christie at the final total announcement. “These are the friendliest and nicest people and nicest people on the planet and they care deeply about Jerry's Kids.”
Christie, 15 and a resident of Due West, South Carolina, visits dealer and customer events throughout the country on behalf of Harley-Davidson and MDA.
Harley-Davidson fundraising activities for the Muscular Dystrophy Association took place throughout the year and culminated with Harley-Davidson's 105th Anniversary. Fundraising activities included pledge rides, dealer fundraisers, motorcycle raffles, Black and Blue Ball fundraising dinners, auctions and pin sales. Top MDA fundraisers were given the honor of leading the company's 105th anniversary parade through the streets of Milwaukee.
Harley-Davidson has been a national sponsor of the Muscular Dystrophy Association since 1980. The family of Harley-Davidson dealers, customers, H.O.G. (Harley Owners Group) members, suppliers and employees raise funds to support life-saving research, comprehensive medical care for children and adults with neuromuscular disease, and MDA summer camps. For more information on the Harley-Davidson and MDA relationship visit www.mdarides.org.
Splitting Lanes with Billy Lane – Part Four
By Bandit |
Sturgis . . Ah Sturgis, there’s nothing quite like it.
Sturgis seems to have that special something.
Maybe it’s partly due to the very friendly barmaids.
Partly the fact that the high energy generated there during the rally helps make it a unique experience.
And no doubt the mischievous fun spirit the atmosphere brings out also adds to the mix.
As does the plentiful eye candy.
And the attractions of Main Street by day or night seem to bring out every man and his dog. Though the dogs aren’t always happy about hanging out in Main.
Oh, I almost forgot – they have bike shows there too!
And the occasional sensational Brouhaha . . .
Billy and I rose early on day four of our ride up to Sturgis and headed down to breakfast. The weather looked good, neither of our bikes had been stolen and we’d both enjoyed a good night’s sleep once we had sorted out our room hassles. Walking outside, and despite the fact that Sturgis was still 250 miles away, in my imagination I fancied I could hear the roar of Harley thunder drifting down from Main Street and the roar of bikers enjoying themselves in one of the many bars. Still, each day we’d encountered a problem of some sort so there was a mildly ominous undertone in my thinking as we set out in what began as a clear but chilly morning.
But there’s something about the big skies of Wyoming and the wide open countryside that makes riding through that state enjoyable, whether the roads be curvy . . .
. . . or straight, virtually to the horizon.
Along the way we ran into a detour or two which gave me a chance to see how the ’48 Flattie handled the dirt. The verdict: Fine. Well the bike went fine though Billy left the seat once or twice as he hit the deeper potholes. Rigid frame, no seat padding to speak of – you have to admire the guy. He genuinely and truly loves that bike and loves riding it. I guess I must be too old and too soft . . . I mentioned it before, but everywhere we stopped people gathered around that old bike. At one stop two good ol’ boys from Louisiana walked over and gave it a good eyeballing. Then one of them spat some baccy and drawled a sentence destined to become a classic: “Man, that thang’s cooler ‘n sheeit!”
After a few hours of great riding we finally hit the outskirts of the Black Hills and I thought we were home and hosed, a hassle-free day at last!
But that was not quite the plan of the biker gods. Uh, uh, someone who dares to ride a 60-year-old bike a couple of thousand miles through scorching deserts, over steep mountain passes and across vast areas of grasslands is not going to be let off quite that easily. No way Jose!
Not long after this picture was taken we caught up with the group of riders you can just see up front and therein lay the problem. Several of them were girls. This is not the beginning of a misogynous rant against female bikers, it’s a rant against people who shouldn’t be riding in a group because of inadequate skill levels. Several of these females were manifestly inadequate in cornering ability, so to protect them their fellas rode shotgun, blocking us from passing. This wasn’t too bad on the flats, but through the canyons it put Billy in a situation where his bike was lugging quite a bit and he couldn’t get into a comfortable speed/rev range. So by the time we rode onto Lascelle Street he had blown a head gasket. The biker gods had done it again. But we arrived and fixing a head gasket on a Flattie is a walk in the park.
But all’s well that ends well they say. Billy was reunited with his lovely girlfriend Amy and reckons that 2008 was the most enjoyable Sturgis Rally he has ever had, partly due to the great ride up, and partly due to the fact that he had very few official duties to attend to. Oh, yeah, no doubt Amy contributed too . . .
As for me, with no girlfriend in town to make me welcome, I had a pretty lonely time of it as you can see.
The ride up with Billy astride his ’48 Flattie was great for me in so many ways, obviously the chance to get to know Billy Lane was – for an Aussie bike journo – pretty damn special. Plus keeping company with the ’48 Flathead took me back to the days of biking when breakdowns or problems were the norm, rather than the exception.
I’m not one to dwell on the past, as far as I’m concerned, THESE are the good old days. But we take for granted the fact that we can press a button, the bike will start and it will get us there, whether there be 100 miles or 10,000 miles and somehow that’s taken some of the fun out of it. And not only did I gain the benefits I’ve just outlined, but . . .
. . . by following behind Billy I got a free rust proofing!
Sturgis has once again come and gone for another year. But it’s coming up again so be ready for it in 2009. Hope to see ya there. For any of you out there who thought it was foolish for Billy to ride his ol’ Flattie all that way, I have just three words of advice for you: Read the sign.
The Girls Of East Coast Sturgis 2008
By Bandit |
Bandit,
I couldn’t make the trip out to Sturgis, SD this year, so I did the next best thing. It was early August and I couldn’t just let that slip by without a rally. I attended the East Coast Strugis Rally held the same time as the “Big Sturgis” rally in Little Orleans, Maryland to be exact. It’s only about a 2-hour ride from my house, but of course, I made it a 6-hour ride and squeezed in a Hooters stop on the way. Here’s my report on the rally along with a few pictures:
East Coast Sturgis (ECS) was started 5 years ago by Ken Appel. Ken’s goal was to give us folks on the east coast a place to go and party for a few days in the old school Sturgis way. ECS is located at the Apple Mountain Campground and Ken met his goal of making sure everyone had a good time.
Granted, it’s not Sturgis, South Dakota, but there’s some great roads in the area and it hasn’t gone commercial. Sure there are the usual vendors you’d find at any rally, but the main focus is on having fun and enjoying a few days with old friends and making some new ones. I have to believe this is a lot like the Big Sturgis used to be back in the day. I’m not saying you can experience Big Sturgis by going to ECS, but if you can’t make the trip to South Dakota, this is definitely worth consideration as a place to kill a weekend and a few brain cells.
Ken lined-up bands each day to entertain the crowd. A poker run benefiting the Little Orleans Little League was held on Friday. The local volunteer fire department had all of the beer concessions and sold beer at $2 a can. And, for a finale of sorts, Saturday afternoon included a motorcycle demolition derby, which judging from the pictures on Ken’s website, www.eastcoaststurgis.com , must have been a helluva good time. (I’ll explain how I missed that in a minute.)
The point here is that this rally gives back to the community in specific ways and it was an inspiration for me to buy as much beer as I could consume.
I met up with my riding buddy, Jerry, in Mechanicsburg, PA on Friday. Jerry was riding in from Connecticut on his new 105th Anniversary Ultra Classic Electra Glide and I ran up on my Fatboy from Northern Virginia. Of course, we met at the local Hooters. After a quick lunch we headed down to Little Orleans via the scenic route and got in some good riding in the Pennsylvania hills. We finally made it to Apple Mountain Campground around 6:00 that evening and set up camp.
We spent Friday evening wandering around the campground, listening to the music, eating anything that looked like cholesterol on a stick, and watching many of the ladies earn beads. The campground is like Bourbon Street at Mardi Gras. I have two words for you, titties (wait, that’s one word, but you get my drift.) And as usual, I somehow managed to walk away without a single good tittie picture for you.
On Saturday morning Jerry and I decided to go for a ride to the Flight 93 Memorial near Shanksville, PA. We again took the back roads and most of the morning to ride up, but it was worth the ride. I’ve been trying to get up there for the past couple of years and while it’s a temporary memorial and by memorial standards, not much to look at, it’s a place that honors the bravery and memory of the passengers of Flight 93. These people did more to protect the rest of us from idiotic and idealistic religious fanatics than the Department of Homeland Security will ever do. The message that if you try to take over one of our planes we’ll stand up and fight, even to the death, does more to deter that action than some ridiculous color code terror status.
After spending some time reflecting on the actions of the passengers of Flight 93, we took off in another direction to find the next set of backroads. Our intent was to be back at the campground in time for the Motorcycle Demolition Derby. Unfortunately, a couple of wrong turns (although it’s unfair to call an unplanned route a wrong turn) I managed to dump us into a little town called Manns Choice, PA. This was actually good news, because it was at a crossroads where I could figure out our most direct route back to Apple Mountain. The really good news was that when I pulled off to figure out that route, I happened to notice a little bar about a half a block up the road. We decided a cold beer would do us well in determining our next move.
The bar was called “D’ Hitchin Post”. In addition to $1.25 drafts, they also had fried gizzards. Oh man, this southern boy was in heaven. So, after consuming a modest amount of both identified consumables, we hit the road again and headed for Little Orleans. The only problem was it was already time for the demolition derby by the time we ventured out of D’ Hitchin Post. Oh well, maybe next year.
Saturday night was more of the same. We wandered around the campground checking out the goings on. The Pink Flamingo was hopping. The Pink Flamingo is a set-up that would make the Buffalo Chip Campground proud. This guy has a stage with a dancers pole and all the lights and music to encourage any and every willing female to get up and dance. That place rocks most of the night and is always good for a stop as you’re wandering around.
All in all, it was a fun time. I will definitely go back, if I need something to do in early August next year. Of course, I’d prefer the multi-thousand mile ride, but this was darn good. I highly recommend it to the Bikernet crowd in the east. Go out and check it out.
By the way, I just got back from a ride to Alabama and back, about 2200 miles. I’ll get you a report on that as soon as I can.
–Chuck
criddle123@earthlink.net
Splitting Lanes with Billy Lane – Part Three
By Bandit |
Day three of our ride up to Sturgis dawned clear with a brilliant blue sky and we were up early, ready to hit the road and make some serious miles. Jeff Decker was also heading for Sturgis in his van, bike and bronze statues in the back, along with Hippodrome Studio merchandise and he kindly offered to take our gear. The plan was that he would stick with us for the day and when we pulled up for the night he’d give us back our gear and drive on to the Black Hills.
So we loaded our stuff in his van and wheeled our bikes out of Jeff’s garage. Bingo! – We meet today’s obstacle, a flat tire on the Flattie. Turned out to be a nail that had penetrated both the tire and the inner tube. So we pump some air into it and headed down to Legends Vintage Motorcycles in Springville (“Vintage Motorcycles” – how handy!) while Jeff rings Scott from Vintage to meet us there.
Scott arrived, opened up and Billy pulled his wheel off, the ‘wheel-that-will-never-rust.' In no time Scott had the tire off and was searching around for the right size tube which, being the aforesaid Vintage shop they had it in stock. Once he located one it is only minutes to fit it.
Jeff assisted Billy to refit the wheel and we were, as Willie Nelson sings, ‘On the road again’.
Jeff lead the way from the bike shop to one of Utah’s many canyons and then lets us go on ahead. With some mist still in the air and the sun just warming up we begin a great day’s riding, mental fingers crossed against encountering any more hassles.
So relatively light and manageable the bikes had become that they didn’t even seem to need a guiding hand on the bars, eagerly heading toward Sturgis like puppies fresh off the leash.
Gradually, however, the sky began to darken and we could smell rain in the air and began to wonder if this was our second trial by fire (water?) for the day.
Fortunately, our luck had changed and the storm veered off to the side and we were back in bright sunshine again which meant it was time for a few more pictures to be taken.
And why not? We were enjoying the ride and now that things seemed to be going smoothly we were in no hurry at all. We crushed the outlaw curse that had been throwing various problems our way, and I for one was filled with confidence that the rest of the trip would be a doddle. Hmm, maybe that wasn’t the best mind set to have at that point . . .
We stopped somewhere for gas and encountered a detour but Jeff led us through it with no problems and it was back out on the road again.
I found it interesting to watch other riders pass Billy. Posers, yuppies, weekend warriors, latter-day Harley owners would all sweep on past with barely a look across at Billy’s UL. Down the track they’d probably wonder where the oil mist came from; that is if they recognized it as oil at all. “My gel’s gone all funny Rupert . . .”
“Try not to cry darling, I’ll shampoo your hair in the spa tonight.”Bikers, on the other hand would slow down to take a good look and nod approvingly, often one suspects, with a touch of envy, before accelerating past again.
It was impossible not to grow fond of that old Flattie as the miles rolled by, the motor never missing a beat. Sure Billy would drop down to 50 or 55 mph up a steep hill, but then hit 70-75 going down the other side and we averaged over 60mph most of the time.
The only time it stopped was for gas and oil. At one gas stop I asked Billy, “How often do you change the oil?” With a hint of a smile and a sideways glance at me Billy replied, “Never Doc, I just keep adding it and that means it’s always running on fresh oil.”
The lines of the 2008 Road King were designed as a modern day “classic”. Yet I wonder how they will hold up 60 years from now? Yes folks, do the math, Billy was riding a 60-year-old bike. Not only that but one that was not especially prepared for this or any other trip. Billy bought the bike from Germany, where it had been owned by a Hells Angel and no doubt ridden hard and put away wet.
Jeff kept company with us until we stopped for the night in Casper, Wyoming. Just when we thought we’d had a stress and incident free ride once the flat tire was fixed we hit trouble again. Each motel we tried for a room was booked, fully booked. Eventually we scored a room at the brand new Hilton Garden Inn where we were told we’d have to share a suite, but that it only had one bed and that it was the very last room available in the entire hotel.
With no apparent choice we accepted and caught the elevator up to our room. The suite was kinda nice with two rooms but only one with a bed. Billy kindly offered to sleep on the couch. I argued against this of course, for about two nano-seconds, but then accepted the offer. Now the suite felt pretty hot and when we checked the air conditioner it was pumping in heat and the room was at 81F already and climbing.
Aha, I thought, our last challenge for the day. Unable to reset it we called the desk and a maintenance guy came up and after replacing the wall control unit, took the main unit apart and declared it unfixable. Sh#t. Here we were, in the last room in town and, short of breaking the window (considered, then abandoned), we were stuck. Or were we? Surprise of surprises, when the maintenance guy told the manager about our plight he transferred us to a room each, at no extra charge, and on the same floor. Funny that . . . So, we went to bed with one more day on the road to go. Who knows what that would bring? Given our record so far, it wasn’t going to be incident free. But not to worry, it was all part of the adventure.
Sturgis Rider Live Rocks The Buffalo Chip
By Bandit |
When you put the Motorcycle industry and an Adult themed Internet show website together you get a phenomenal episode of Sturgis Rider Live.In case you are new to the show it is a mixture of top builders, artists, clubs, bikes and models all doing interviews on there history and what they are doing now. There is a new show that airs once a month in a new location each time featuring Charlie Brechtel as the host along with the Sturgis Rider Live Band. Check out our newest addition to the family www.waterbuffalofilms.com
Our last two shows were by far the best that we have ever done. Working with Keith R. “Bandit” Ball and his crew at the Interplanetary headquarters for Bikernet.com was well scripted and very entertaining. Keith’s magnificent host skills along with the crews line up of guests were top of the line.
However, Charlie had one more in line after that. Filming on Location at the Legendary Buffalo Chip Campground Sturgis, SD on August 6, 2008. The show line-up included:
Rod Woodruff owner of the buffalo chip for over 26 years in loving his job. You have not been to a Sturgis party until you have been to the Legendary Buffalo Chip.www.buffalochip.com
Scott Long of Central Coast Cycles out of Santa Cruz, CA. Currently involved in the newest show on the CMT channel called Chopper Challenge.
Paul Cox former associate and friend to Indian Larry whom has now moved on to form his own company called Paul Cox Industries. www.paulcoxleather.com
Athena Ransom, Owner of Vagabond Chopper Company in Pompano Beach, Florida has earned the title as one of the industries leading female builders. www.vagabondchoppers.com
Ross & Rotten have been performing their edgy, and sometimes downright blue humor for the crowds at the Legendary Buffalo Chip in Sturgis for more than a decade. www.buffalochip.com
Rupert Boneham is a survivor. In a game that cuts through any pretense, he alone outlived the intense scrutiny of 38 million television viewers in 2004. He also has an organization that is called Ruperts Kids www.rupertskids.org
Randy Simpson has been in business as Milwaukee Iron for over 21 years. He as well shared a spot on the Discovery Channel with a show called “Southern Steel”. www.milwaukeeiron.com
Jennifer Scott ~ model, singer and emcee… Totally involved with the motorcycle community, Jennifer has traveled with Billy Lane and emceed the Blood, Sweat and Gears tour for 2 years, also a pin-up girl for west coast choppers which is a catalog and members only website. She is currently involved with Kris Krome on an add campaign for Tag Heuer eyewear. Extremely busy right now, but she is definitely doing her “Thing”. www.myspace.com/jenniferscott420
For more information please visit the website at www.sturgisriderlive.comOr email ironvudu@caltel.com