Nearly 100 Show Entries Highlight the 33rd Annual El Camino Motorcycle Show & Parts Exchange

There was mix of great antique, vintage and classic bikes at this year’s 33rd event…and also mixed emotions… since it was the last of the Bator International El Caminos. But that’s not saying the last of the event itself. More on that later.

While semi-torrential rains last year nearly flooded the upper parking structure at El Camino College in Torrance, the event’s traditional site, this go-around on Saturday, September 20, 2008 was a classic SoCal bright and sunny day reflected in the chrome, polished alloy and nickel gleaming from the rows of bikes, nearly 100, set up for display and judging.

Speaking of judging, this year’s event may well have been the toughest yet for Chief Judge Dave Carleton and his fellow experts thanks to the number of quality restorations hitting the 100 point mark and many more in the 99+ category. The restorations have been fine-tuned each year, motivated by our judging criteria, steadily increasing to a level of quality, dare I say, reaching perfection. And that’s directly related to the fact that 95% of our judges are AMCA certified.

All the bikes were winners, each demonstrating their restorers’ and owners’ dedication to the sport and to keeping history alive and rumbling along. Some of the highlights included the three 100 point bikes of Marvin Perz: 1970 Sonic Weld Triumph and Blair Beck’s 1974 Phantom 125 Ossa, both in the On/Off Road category and Tim Stafford’s 1964 BMW R50 in the Vintage & Classic European category.

Awards for first, second and third places were handed out as well as People’s Choice that went to John Messina and his 1941 Harley EL. The Sponsor’s Choice trophy went to Paul Wheeler and his 1987 Harley FLH while the George & Karla Threedouble Memorial Plate award for Best Restoration went to Richard Phillips and his 1964 BSA Lightning. Topping things off was Best of Show going to the 1923 Harley Sport Twin of Frank Colver.

Taking a look back at the history of the longstanding and popular event, like the song from the Grateful Dead goes…it’s been a long strange road…starting when Glenn Bator of Bator International resurrected the show back in 2000 after it passed from Jim McClure who had run the event some seven years, then into the hands of the L.A. Chapter of the AMCA.

Says Glenn, “After let’s say a major decline, we entered the picture. We strove to run a professional event, and yes, I’m known to run a tight ship and am a bit anal-retentive, so I didn’t brook any shenanigans with an emphasis on respect from all both sides. We put the show back on firm ground, even if atop a parking structure, and it’s been a good run for all involved. I’ve been fortunate to rely on a core of friends both at El Camino and Hanford smoothly including Phil Weiner and Rick Nelson both of whom I’ve known for decades. The Bator International relationship with El Camino College has been a great one and the school administration tells us our annual show has been their favorite event.

“We’d also like to thank the good people at Walnecks Classic Cycle Trader for throwing in their sponsor’s hat for this last go around and for their longtime support and to all of the volunteers and show judges that unselfishly gave their time and energy to make these last eight years a very smooth and well run event. “To sum it up, El Camino was a great time for us and I’m glad it went out with a bang, but now onwards and upward to new adventures as we’re going into producing auctions and teaming up with some other major motorcycle related companies on new endeavors. And finally we’d like to add that we are engaged in discussions with other individuals who may continue to promote the El Camino event. So this is just a transition, hopefully a seamless one where we move from the promoter position to a sponsor position. I still want to have our name on the trophies and line up my bikes up on display and have a presence at the event. Finally, I’ll be able to get out from coordinating the event and walk around like everyone else, kick back with a soda and kick tires and be one of the people enjoying all the great motorcycles and vendors El Camino has always attracted.”

Best Regards to all,
–Glenn & Deni Bator

The Chopper Chick Crew nailed it…again. The House of Harley-Davidson, Milwaukee’s premier dealership, and Shell Oil, manufacturers of V-Power gasoline (the gas recommended by Harley for their entire model line) sponsored the Chopper Chicks in yet another ‘live build‘. The bike project coincided with the House of Harley-Davidson’s Woman’s Day Event during the 105th Anniversary celebration. It gave bikers of both sexes a chance to see these talented women spin wrenches on a custom concept and make it materialize right in front of their eyes. As with all of these build projects, the completed motorcycle was donated to a carefully chosen charity. The recipient of this bike was a unanimous favorite, the Race Against Abuse Of Children Everywhere Foundation(RAACE).

RAACE is a nonprofit organization dedicated to eliminating the epidemic of child sexual abuse by raising public awareness. Any charity organization would benefit monetarily from the sale of such a motorcycle but this bike will work for the foundation long before any thoughts of a sale. Through their awareness campaign, they are taking this bike on tour with them to race tracks, motorcycle events and anywhere else that they can use it as a tool to talk to spread their message.

About five weeks before the live build, the Chopper Chicks started with a crated 2007 Custom Sportster delivered from the House of Harley-Davidson courtesy of Shell and chopped, cut, welded and ground their way to create a nasty street-to-track bike with lots of attitude. The choice of the race-ready style was a no-brainer for the crew (they were, after all, building it for the RAACE Foundation). On the morning of the event, they started with a bare frame, an assortment of parts, excited RAACE staffers, fistfuls of tenacity and one broken foot. (Athena had bust it in a late night fight with a trailer hitch during her nonstop road-trip from Florida.)

Chopper Chick Crew members, Athena Ransom, Jayme Gray, Vivian ’Gypsy’ Charros, and Kate O‘Shea started pulling wrenches around 9AM while Chopper Chick JoAnn Bortels airbrushed license plates for the audience of bikers who gathered to watch the women do what they love. The fact that these women worked together before was evident as each one slid easily from one assembly job to the next as their official ’Tool Boy’, Don Ransom (Athena’s husband) kept the tools flowing to waiting hands. Taking turns on the open mike, they chatted it up with the crowd and were able to give them the dope on the bike and the various customizations and fabrications.

As the time for firing up the sled got closer, the chatter stopped as their focus intensified and the wrenches turned even faster. Even the crowd stopped their questions and dropped their voices. It was really cool…lots of anticipation. Bikers who watched their progress during the day, swarmed the area in front of the tent with one last question on their lips. Would it start? With a gallon of Shell V-Power gas dropped in her tank, they pushed the button. She fired right up and made believers out of all who witnessed the event. Chicks rule. At that moment, even the crustiest of bikers had to agree on that.

The live build took just eight hours from bare frame to running motorcycle. That’s longer than some of their previous live assemblies but the Chopper Chick Crew couldn’t be happier with the outcome. This wasn‘t a kit bike or just another tried and true chopper. This was a smooth one-off custom.

The transformation of the stock Sporty was more than the public had anticipated but just what the Chopper Chicks expected. They lowered and lengthened scooter sported custom fabbed rear controls, a one-off tight set of drag bars and a kick-ass CrazyHorse paint job in the purple and yellow colors of the RAACE Foundation. The oil tank was fabbed out of Harley cylinders by Vagabond Chopper Company and left the uninitiated wondering why the bike had extra jugs. RB Racing tossed a two-into-one exhaust system into the mix. The trick changes and tasty extras that the chicks brought to this project are too numerous to list, but the most obvious additions were perhaps the most unexpected. The inclusion of a dead-man switch and a set of 65-inch wheelie bars (donated by Pingle Enterprises, Inc.) really set this performance bike apart.

After the completion, Shell Oil representative Karyn Leonardi-Cattolica and the House of Harley-Davidson's Brooke Pape handed the keys over to RAACE founder Kenneth Smith and Programs/Services Director Vickie Brookes.

“We’re so grateful. This is really something special. This motorcycle drastically increases our ability raise awareness. Everyone we speak with has the potential to save a child and change a life. This bike will open the door for us to communicate our message to so many more people,” Smith told the crowd while he clutched the keys. “We can’t thank the everyone enough for this incredible gift.“

The Chopper Chick Crew wants to thank and acknowledge all those that all those that helped make this all happen: Shell Oil, the House of Harley-Davidson, Jeffery Phipps Custom Saddles, RB Racing, Pingle Enterprises, Inc., Barnett Performance Products, Gardner-Wescott, Biker’s Choice, Mitchell Motorcycle Transport, Park One Welding, Precision Wire Inc., Sun Metals, California Harley-Davidson, Manatee River Harley-Davidson, Crazy Horse Painting, Gypsy Highway Custom, Vagabond Chopper Company and all of their families and sweethearts.

Locke, CA~Feb. 24, 2010~ No doubt you are familiar with the old saw proclaiming: “There’s no free lunch.” As it turns out, that’s not entirely true in this neck of the woods (or bend in the river if you prefer). I’ve been hearing for years about the famous “Free Lunch” served annually at Al the Wop’s, a delightful down-at-the-heels dive along the Sacramento River. For an equal period of time I’ve vowed to make this gig; it sounded like a genuine, if somewhat offbeat, good time. But something else has always intervened. This year, however, I made good on the free food promise.

A joint with an un-apologetically and shamelessly politically incorrect name, Al’s place sits smack dab in the middle of Locke, a whole town about two blocks long. The only thing holding up the building is the building next to it. All manner of folk belly up to a bar which, on the east end, is slowly sinking into the floor. Most of the year Al’s serves generous cocktails, cold beer, local wine, and to-die-for steak sandwiches and cheeseburgers at both lunch and dinner.

But once each winter the standard lunch menu goes out the window and a beef liver feed is on, and for free. According to Al’s unofficial historians, this used to be a “men only” gig that was hosted by the local Men’s Club. It was notoriously raucous. The fun factor, however, was upped by 10-square when a few female “bar flies” (so described by those who were there) decided to crash the party some years back. Suddenly the men were asking each other why they’d banned women all those years. Nowadays, the barroom doors are flung open for men, women, and anyone with a hankering for a wild mid-day, mid-week, mid-winter liver chomping party.

Eat your heart out

Since man does not live by liver alone, the bar stools are cleared away leaving only the bar top and an ancient brass foot-rail where locals, farmers, bikers and tourists alike stand five deep calling out for Bloody Marys and other eye openers. Lined up patiently with drinks in hand, diners are herded into the dining room as space allows. From the opening gong about 11:30 am until the ingredients are gone, it’s a constant wave of seating hungry lunchers.

The meal includes steaming plates of sautéed liver, onions and bacon along with a salad and bread (savvy diners know to ask for a bowl of marinated beef heart as well). Al’s cheerful staffers try to keep the chaos at a manageable level. The party spills out front into the narrow street as folks stand in line, anxious to party with friends and grub down gratis.

Seating is family style, meaning you’re likely to meet new friends across the table. This day our dining companions were from up-river (Sacramento) and we all introduced ourselves as plates of hot grub were plopped down in front of us. Our city-slicker companions wrinkled up their noses after a bite or two and promptly decided that their time was best spent sucking up suds at the bar. C’est la vie. By the time we rolled out, we’d met folks from up river and down, as well as inlanders and locals. Everybody’s a buddy at Al’s and, as it turned out, the party continues down river as the bar crowd hops along the levee to hit all the local dives.

Mystery fire

The town of Locke has a rich and colorful history dating back to the 1800s and was added to the National Historic Places registry in 1970 as being the only town in America that was built exclusively by Chinese for the Chinese.

The town was established in 1915 after a delegation of eight Chinese merchants decided it was time to build their own community, since the Chinese section of nearby Walnut Grove had mysteriously burned to the ground just months before. Due to the Alien Act of 1913, the immigrants were not allowed to own land themselves, so the merchants approached a local landowner, George Locke, about building on his property and an agreement was reached.

Originally migrating to the area after the passage of the Swamp and Overflow Act of 1861, which brought about levee construction and provided jobs for thousands of Chinese, the immigrants worked waist deep in water to build the hundreds of miles of levees that cross the Delta swamplands. They provided the backbreaking labor necessary to cut drainage ditches, build levees and floodgates in areas where malaria was still endemic. A total of 88,000 acres was reclaimed from the Delta marshlands between 1860-1880.

By 1925, some 600 Chinese called Locke home. The thriving town had restaurants, a general store, a school, ancient Chinese Medicine offices and boarding houses as well as gambling halls, speakeasies, and opium dens, all run by Chinese, while the prostitution businesses were run and staffed by whites. Now inhabited by some 80-90 souls, the town of Locke still appears, essentially, as it did back in 1920, but has a mere 10 Chinese residents.

In 1934 a gregarious Italian named Al Adami purchased a building from one of the original eight founders of Locke, Lee Bing, and Al the Wop’s was established in the exact same building Bing built in 1915. Known for cutting off guest’s neckties, or stirring ladies drinks with his fingers, the unpredictable Adami turned Al’s into a favorite watering hole in the Delta. Food is served seven days a week and peanut butter and apricot jam are offered as a condiment to the tasty steak sandwiches just as it was back then.

Pennies from heaven

Upon his death in 1961, Al’s nephews took over the biz and made their own mark in the colorful Locke history, where bikers have been welcomed into the ancient bar to do a burnout or two on the hardwood floors. Dollar bills are stuck on the ceiling by bartender, and now co-owner Richard, who folds a weighty coin into the bill with a thumbtack and then guests sling it into the lathe slat up above. The heavy coins rain down on unsuspecting imbibers all during the day after the bills (still stuck to the ceiling) eventually unfold and release the weight, which turns cocktail hour into an adventure all its own.

It’s a rare day (especially on weekends) when you can’t find a row of motorcycles lined up out front and a crowd gathered. A mangy old dog the locals call “Mayor” waddles along the slanted sidewalks and greets visitors. The entire town is slowly sinking into the Delta dirt and the buildings sag against their ancient construction. The bar at Al’s has been tilting noticeably over the years and if one doesn’t pay attention, your drink could slide away from you. Locke is neither a tourist trap nor a ghost town, but is full of all the character of a well-worn community that’s survived the evolution of a city and state’s creation. So, liver lover or not, give Al the Wop’s a look-see next time you’re in the neighborhood.

Damn, This year was rough. It was like we were being put thru a test. We had one crew member loose two loved ones within 24 hours on Thanksgiving day. We found out from a good friend that his wife had Breast cancer and he couldn't help us this year.

He and I paid to ship the boxes, so everything fell on me and my crew. A couple of weeks before Christmas my little cousin, who is only 3 months old, started to have a hard time eating and was put in the children’s hospital. He had to be fed thru his belly. The little guy had more going wrong for him than right. Things were not looking good for him.

Finally, they found out what was wrong with him, operated and within 24 hrs he was like a new baby. He made it home two days before Christmas. I guess miracles really do happen around Christmas time. Then we had one group in Connecticut, who volunteered to help us out. They took over a month past the deadline date to ship us eight boxes of stuff.

Then we were told their backer, who pays to ship the stuff, backed out, so we raised the shipping money in three days thanks to a great group of folks who I am proud to call my friends, The Hot Chili Rods Car Club out of Cape Coral, Florida. Without them we could not have had the boxes shipped to us.

To keep a long story short, there just was no reason to take over four weeks to ship the boxes, which made us over a month late with wrapping and shipping the gifts out. As Forest Gump would say, “That's all I got to say about that, LOL.” The last kick to the groin came two weeks ago with the news that my wife’s mom has cancer and that they can't get rid of it, but there is good news. They can knock it into remission. Fortunately, she is strong like the rest of us. I sometimes felt like I was living the Elvis Presley song, “You gave me a mountain.” Like the song says, it's been one hill after another. We climbed them all one by one, but this time Lord you gave us a mountain, a mountain we may never climb, it ain't a hill any longer, you gave us a mountain this time. BUT WE DID CLIMB IT, WE ARE STILL CLIMBING IT AND WE WILL NEVER GIVE UP AND STOP CLIMBING IT.

I asked my family (because I don't have a crew, I have family) if they wanted to call it off this year? Not one of them even thought about saying, yes. What strength and unselfishness. Needless to say, they all have my love and respect, and I am lucky to have them in my life.

That's what makes us who we are. That's why when everybody else sees a worthless piece of crap rusting away in an old barn or field. We see a badass bike or hot rod in the making. When everybody else sees a mission impossible, we see a great winter's project or something to do on weekends even though we don't have the cash. We just plainly refused to give in and that's that. Our numbers are not great, but it's cool because that's what makes us unique. The will to keep going, no matter what and because of that we are the only ones who knows what it is like to take that piece of crap on it's first ride.

As you stand in front of her, checking out what a badass machine your scoot, rod ,or sled has turned into, you feel like a 15 year-old-kid who just got his first piece of ass. Hell, if they could put that feeling in a drug, I want a pound, a bottle, I want a case of it. Folks like us are the reasons our enemies don't land on our shores. We are the ones our countries enemies are afraid of. That's why when we do get attacked, they do it like cowards and not face to face.

All I know is that I am proud to be one of them, this mechanical clan of outcasts. Doing the T-Shirt Drive for the Troops I have met some of the best people. I have become close friends with folks that I have never laid eyes on who think that we and what we do are worth their time and money, and here is what we did this year. We have wrapped over 1,700 gifts and will send out 148 boxes to the Troops. I want to say thanks to everyone who helped us out. I can't think of a better group to be standing with. I also want to say a special thanks to Keith “Bandit” Ball and Nyla (Easyriders and Bikernet.com, worlds fastest panhead fame) for really stepping up this year to help us out.

Thanks to Geno Dipoi and Alan Mayes. Alan helped us in more ways than one (The Horse, Old School Rodz, Car Kulture Deluxe fame) for their help this year. They have supported us since day one, and to the Hot Chili Rods CC of Cape Coral for going way out of their way to help us this year. A real special thanks to Clayton, rumor has it he is a longwinded son of a bitch. He is disabled by tumors and chemo and is just trying to make ends meet. He thought this was worth his time and hand knitted 75 hats. Talk about not being kept down. Our hats are off to you Bro.

I am going to take the time to list the ones who support us. Most have been with us from the beginning. Folks, support these businesses, don't let them fade away because they do what most don't. They give back.

P.S. While I was writing this and trying to get it out, I got a call that my mom fell and broke her hip. They will operate on her this Saturday. My mom and dad will have to spend two months with us so she can heal, just another hill to climb.

–Jerry n family, Rollin Sixes Choppers n Rods.(phantom5100@yahoo.com)

Don't forget guys, if you have any leftover t-shirts, cd's, or dvds, etc. from the summer shows we will take them. And if you could set out a collection jar at gatherings to help pay for shipping we would appreciate it.

Keith Ball (Bikernet.com)
Geno Dipoi, Alan Mayes(The Horse, Old School Rodz, Car KultureDeluxe)
Hot Chili Rods
Ft Myers Beach Lions Club
Max Grundy
James Owen Original Art
Lowbrow Customs
Viva Las Vegas
Rockabilly Rave USA
Wheels of Time
Jegs Performance
Yogi's Inc
Vagabond Chopper
Flesh Mechanics
Bartlett & Company
Beasley Broadcasting
Lucky 13 Apparel
Both Barrels
Rumblers CC NYC
One World Studios
HR Girls
SW Jack Drilling Co.
3-G Construction
Doc's
United Mine Workers of America
Penn Mechanical GroupBlue Mountain Euip. Rentals
American Conservatory Systems
Turm Oil
Tony Allen- West Coast Muscle Car Club

It’s barely a week since we rang in the New Year, and the annual Easyriders Show came back to the Pomona Fairplex. With the shaky economy and everyone still mending their debts from the holidays, I expected to find an empty venue. But I like to visit my many friends who are builders and vendors, riders, entertainers and writers, and show whatever support we can offer in these lean times. The good news is riding a motorcycle is an economical mode of transportation these days. More good news is that meeting up with friends is absolutely free. Okay parking was a ridiculous $9, and the door was $15. But riding on a perfectly sunny, 75-degree day in January, is about as amazing as it gets.

With the worries that everyone has to face on a daily basis, just getting out in the fresh air and sunshine affords much needed relief. I was glad to see I was not the only one feeling the vibe, and the Easyriders show hosted a great turnout. My friend Carlana joined me on the ride for her first Easyriders show, and even though it’s just a freeway ride away, it skirted snow capped mountains the whole way, and the landscape was fresh and green from recent rains. When I left my yard the Aloe Vera plants were blooming bright orange, and ruby throated hummingbirds were darting from flower to flower. When I arrived at Carlana's, the smell of her orange trees blooming was thick and sweet. My whole family resides in the Midwest fighting the sleet and record low temps. I almost feel guilty that this place of wonder is my back yard.

My forever friend Qian and a group of her friends met us. And my friend Christina, who is a recent cancer survivor, rode over with her Orange County crew.My Cheeky Chap girlfriends flew up from San Diego with their sexy apparel, and shamelessly flirted about. And my “Parts Whore Customs” pal was abducted by my Cheeky Chap girlfriends, and I never saw her again!

There were loads of hot bikes, Hooter Girls, Rock and Roll Bands, and of course cool stuff to buy. The word from most of my vendor friends was that there was not much money being spent, but the good news was fantastic sales prices! I bought a really beautiful Indian print wool and leather Easyriders jacket for $40. Weeeeeeee. And found some of the best headbands EVER, called Noginz. Finding the perfect hair bands is a never-ending search, so check out Noginz.com. I want one in every color.

Mongols were there in full force, and I was scolded for pointing my camera in their direction. Sorry, point taken. Carlana and I tried to go out on the patio to get a bite to eat, but stopped at the cascading steps. In her innocent southern glory she said to the boys behind me, “Would any of you nice Irish boys be so kind as to help me down these stairs?” A group of Vagos scooped her up without hesitation. She enjoyed the ride, and joked around with the boys.

We also bumped in my pal Gilby Clarke from Guns and Roses fame, and his rockin' musician pals. I also did my own subconscious inventory and scoped out the cutest guy of the event. He looks like a girl, but his name was Jeffrey. It doesn’t get more adorable than that!

The Soldiers for Jesus were also present as they are at most events. One of them was the ex- husband of my friend Kathy who was there. I asked how she could let a sweet guy like that go, and boy did I open a can of worms! Apparently he wasn’t always so sweet! An old helmet of mine has a sticker on it that reads, “You have to sin to be saved.” When you walk past the Soldiers' booth, you know they are representing exactly that. It's human nature to appreciate the light more, when have experienced the dark side. The good news: Everyday has an opportunity to start again. Life is a journey.

I have been feeling the pinch of the economy, like just about everyone, and worrying about the future, as I pondered what I wanted out of 2010 and the years to come. I have a tendency to think, re-think and over-think everything. I decided if I can’t continue to afford to travel around the world, then I’ll travel around the country. When I can’t afford to travel around the country, I will travel down every off-beat beautiful California road. If I can’t afford to travel around the state, then I will ride my motorcycle on every mountain road around my city. When I can’t afford to do that, then I’ll ride my bike around the block, a lot. If I get desperate, I’ll hike, ride my bicycle, roller skate, and ride horses.

Hardship paves the way to the appreciation of the pleasure of simplicity. The friends I have made in the world of motorcycling are the survivors. I find strength and inspiration in every one of their stories. They have survived hardship and adversity, illness and addiction, sadness and the loss of many friends. But their hearts are still full of love, and hungry for adventure.

So, I got to thinking about Easyriders, the magazine, the movie, the events. All of my cool buddies like Peter Fonda, Bandit, and Dave Nichols behind the scenes, and what it means to be Easy…….Riders. Taking life easy, taking it slow, taking it all in, and enjoying the ride of life. We're all seeking and finding pleasure in the simplicity of the day.

I consulted the all-too-frequently-crossed-out-squares on my soon-to-be-history 2009 Hunky Dudes on Hot Bikecalendar (I can dream can’t I?). It told me that the David Mann Chopper Fest, held every December for the past five years in Ventura, CA, was coming up in a few days and I had my trusty Harley-Davidson Heritage already packed up and roaring to go. Then the worst storm of the season pounded its way up and down the California coast. Shit, shit and double shit.

From the relative dry and warm safety of my NorCal garage, I stared out at the bleak weather conditions. The thought of riding six hours south in cold, crappy, wet weather – with even the promise of snow in the mountain passes leading to the northwest edge of Los Angeles County – already had me questioning my sanity and rethinking my travel plans when the phone rang. Snatching it off its cradle, I heard my buddy Ray C. Wheeler’s voice on the other end.

“Ya packed up for Ventura?” Ray spat, knowing full well that the annual Chopper Fest, held in memory of the famous biker graphic artist, David Mann, is one oceanside gig I truly enjoy. He already knew my answer: hell yeah! After all, Chopper Fest is a unique blend of bike show, swap meet, music fest, and celebration of the iconic biker centric artwork of Mann. It simply was not to be missed unless, as geologic experts keep telling us, the California coastline falls into the Pacific Ocean, and maybe not even then.

What my pal didn’t know my travel plans. After carefully scoping the horizon for the lumbering ark I was sure would crest the hills at any minute, I’d decided to leave my bike on the jiffy stand and make the trek on four wheels. I was sure Mann, looking down on Chopper Fest from biker heaven, would understand.

Mann and machines

Shame on anyone sitting around scratching their head and wondering, “Who the hell was David Mann?” Those folks should find an older brother's garage and dig around. They are sure to find and thumb through and old issue of Easyriders magazine. One aspect of that historic rag would jump, the centerspread art by David Mann. Fact is, you could write a book about Mann, his graphics depicting the motorcycle culture is often-mythic imagery, and the resulting influence of his work on the art movement known as Low Brow. Maybe somebody already has, I dunno.

Right now, what follows is a thumbnail version of Mann’s artistic biography. Coming of age in Kansas City, MO, in the early 1960s, Mann dug hot cars and cool bikes and he drew what he liked. Affiliated with the El Forastero MC (which is either legendary or notorious or both, depending on who you believe), his early drawings depicting the authentically wild doings of the club caught the eye of Ed “Big Daddy” Roth, the Kalifornia Kustom Kulture hot rod car and bike builder.

While Roth’s motorcycle chopper magazine carried some of David’s work, most folks didn’t pay a whole lot of attention until Mann’s drawings became a regular feature in Easyriders magazine during the early 1970s. His characters and their bikes seem to suck the viewer into the action of the scene. Each creation swept viewer off into a lifestyle Dave so deftly translated into paint. Centerfold became collectibles tacked to every biker garage in the world. The rest, as they say, is biker art history. Mann’s work continued to appear in the magazine until 2003 when illness forced him to stop. In 2004, Mann was inducted into the Motorcycle Hall of Fame and passed away in September of that same year.

Over the years, centerfold full-color Mann drawings like in “Ghost Rider” depicted, among other things, a very sanitary style of handcrafted bike that literally came to define in many minds what a chopper should be. Quite naturally, the Dave Mann Chopper Fest continues that tradition while embracing cool bikes in general.

Starwhat?

The Chopper Fest is held at the Ventura Fairgrounds along the gentle surf of the Pacific Ocean and is always a beautiful, palm tree swaying in the breeze, kind of SoCal scene that seems to warm the heart as well as bones. Part of the charm, no doubt, extends from the locale’s long and laidback history. Oil and oranges – Sunkist started here — both figure in the area’s economic history. This very venue is where David Mann had married his lovely wife, Jacquie; in a typical SoCal style that included a few friends and whoever was wandering through the swap meet at the time.

Mission San Buenaventura, founded in 1782, still anchors Ventura’s historic downtown neighborhood. At night, the fountain near the mission grounds is lit and visitors stroll between the many trendy restaurants that exist along several blocks. But so too do some homeless who pitch their tents in shadows or push shopping carts towards the refuge of nearby Plaza Park. In honor of the holiday season, several of those folks were huddled up in storefront alcoves, harmonizing Christmas carols and keeping warm.

But on Sunday morning down at the fairgrounds, the weather had cleared, a badass swap meet, plenty of vendors, and a bike show that would smack you right in the head kicked-off the day. Custom, chromed, wrenched, and rattle-canned bikes of all makes and design rolled out to gleam in the bright sunshine next to vintage and meticulously restored machines, as well as all manner of motorcycle in between. Out in the ocean, surfers were gliding along the crest of the cool winter tide, with no ark in sight.

The spirit of the amazing artist, who so skillfully committed the biker life style to canvass seemed to wander among the attendees, perfectly at home and absolutely detectable. The laid back vibe was everywhere. Mann’s art displayed prominently through out the venue, where it’s a sort of cult gathering that’s casual and comfortable. The parking lot out front, was a blur of bikes as riders rolled in and out, during the one-day event. Artists are encouraged to express themselves in a variety of ways, but most appreciated were the array of custom and classic motorcycles displayed across the sod.

The Star Fuckers, who cleaned up the band name, due to the children who are welcome to attend, became “Star Truckers” for the day, and provided killer entertainment for this sixth iteration of the Chopper Fest. A power trio that included guitarist Gilby Clarke (late of Guns n’ Roses), bass player Stephen Adika (Glamnation), and drummer Slim Jim Phantom (Stray Cats) banged out great tunes. Between sets, the personable hostess Jennifer Scott Santolucito kept the day on schedule, bantered with the crowd, and distributed freebie items by tossing them from the stage. Among the freebies were photographs of her in her panties. As a newly married woman, the beautiful master of ceremonies hoped to be rid of the cheesecake shots that featured her colorful, uh… tattoos.

Rewarding

In the end, it was all about the bikes and, of course, paying respects to the never-to-be-forgotten, artistic icon, David Mann.

California Bobber
1st place
Jim Frankel
1942 Knucklehead

Old Skool Skooter
1st place
Orlando Flores
1947 Knucklehead

Antique
1st Place
Don Whalen
1923 Ace 4 Cylinder

Modern Bobber
1st Place
Landy Brakke
1957 Panhead

Rat Bike
1st Place
Kiyo
1947 Knucklehead

Metric Chopper
1st Place
Duane Ballard
1970's Honda “Pink Taco”

Koolest Paint
1st Place
Mike Ruedas
2007 Shovelhead Custom

Radical Design
1st Place
Ben Faiella
1993 Sportster

Bagger
1st Place
Hogties
2009 Roadking

Big Twin
1st Place
John Bateman
2006 Custom

Sportster
1st Place
Scott Bryce
1973 Sportster

British
1st Place
Scott Bowling
1970 Triumph Daytona

Best of Show
1923 Ace 4 Cylinder
Don Whalen

David Mann Memorial Award
Bob Carrillo
1947 Knucklehead

Well, 2010 has officially begun and Vindicta Riding Club participated in a charity ride today. Republic Harley Davidson, of Stafford, Texas, organized a charity ride to escort 93Q disc jockey and Snowdrop Foundation co-founder, Kevin Kline’s amazing 482-mile ultra marathon to benefit the Snowdrop Foundation, (www.snowdropfoundation.org). Kevin began running December 20th from Dallas to Austin to San Antonio, finally ending up at Texas Children’s Medical Center in Houston. Republic H-D (http://www.republichd.com/default.asp) and General Manager Craig Slovak organized the Ride with Strides to benefit the Snowdrop event. Republic H-D covered each bike’s $10 registration fee and donated the proceeds to the cause. Republic is starting to establish itself as a dealer any city would be proud of, and I am proud to say it will be my dealer of choice from now on. What an amazing way to start the New Year.

Vindicta, a V-Rod based riding group that has started in Houston, rode in together at around 11 am to represent our club. There’s nothing like riding into an event 10 strong, cruising in like a unit of jet fighters ready for battle. Overall, we had a decent showing, with several wives coming along to show their support.

Republic H-D had coffee, doughnuts, and barbeque for those who wanted to eat before the ride. We were surprised to see the large number of bikes that showed up to go along on the ride, but bikers have always been known to be a charitable group, as a whole.

People mingled around and talked bikes, hangovers, and expectations for the New Year when we heard the announcement Kevin would be arriving soon. We all lined the street to welcome him into the dealership with an incredible roar. Kevin staid at the dealership just under an hour to get refreshed before taking off on the final leg of his incredible journey, which ended at Texas Children’s Hospital. We would wait an hour before taking off on our police escorted ride through the city to help welcome him in at the hospital.

The ride was fan-freaking-tastic! I have never had an interest in participating in one of these “group rides”, but I can tell you I had a great time. Besides the comraderie and brotherhood I felt, it was also awesome to experience the warmth we felt from the community. People were waving and onking their horns. There were several corners packed with well wishers who just wanted to see the pack of rolling thunder migrating through the city. The police escort kept us moving as we made our way through the city streets to the hospital. I am not sure if we made the goal of 1,000 bikes, but I couldn’t see the front or the rear of the pack as we rode to the event. All in all, I was impressed with the teamwork and effort that was displayed throughout the entire event proceedings. Those police riders can ride those bikes, and they did a hell of a job on the event, so thanks to the Sugarland PD.

Once we arrived at Texas Children’s, we were met with thunderous applause and a nice crowd. 93q, a local country station here in Houston, was broadcasting live at the hospital awaiting Kevin’s arrival.

When he rounded the final bend of his journey, the applause and cheering was deafening. Bikes were roaring and the people were screaming as if our team had just won the World Series. I was reminded of what a friend of mine used to say, “If that don’t light your fire, then your wood’s all wet!” I was fired up, as there were several patients waiting to congratulate Kevin on his achievement, and all he wanted to do was tell them how proud he was of each of them for their brave daily battle.

As the confetti fell, Reed, our leader, gave the signal for us to depart. The same as we arrived, there group mounted our bikes and cruised out of the event. After a meal and fellowship, we each said our goodbyes and discussed which way each would go. As we exited the city, I was awed by the sight of our group as slowly the group became smaller, each rider heading towards their respective homes. My wife and I endured the chilling ride home, but I don’t think a smile left either one of our faces the entire night. Until next time…

Thought I might share my last trip to the Burt Munro rally in Invercargill in the south island of New Zealand.

Six months ahead, I decide to head off to the Burt Munro, last year was a blast, great ride, great company, awesome event. This year however, instead of renting my bike from Renta Triumph New Zealand, I opted to go for a cheaper bike and spend a bit more money on “having fun,”first mistake.

The triumph I rented last year was a great bike, near new, very well maintained and the service was excellent, though the bike didn't really suit me for comfort. So, I went searching through the net for an alternative. I found a fabulous looking site, “well maintained fleet of bikes, long history in New Zealand tourist industry…etc.” They had a nice light modern Honda cruiser available. I made the proper enquiries, paid the deposit for two bikes, all should be sweet.

I arrived to collect bikes on the morning of the 26th November so my local mates and I could ride out and make a nice day of a ride down the east coast.

The bikes I saw were not in any way what I expected, the colour was the same as in the picture, that's about where the similarity ended. Both bikes had rolled past one hundred thousand km mark, and I think about 25% of that was on their side, sliding down the road. I'm sure none of the insurance excess collected had been used to repair and maintain the bikes.

Too bad if I wanted working front brakes or good front suspension. I let the guy at the hire place know that these bikes were of inferior quality, however I had five mates waiting, bikes loaded for the rally, ready to blast out, so what could I do but accept these heaps of crap.

Ok, so we head out, sun shining, bit chilly, all good, at approx 120km, my bike starts to run out of gas, so I turn it to reserve and we head into the gas station for a top up.

I dismount my bike placing my hand on the tank to steady myself, and the tank “implodes.” There is now a 2 inch concave dent in the top of my tank. What the? All around come to see, point and laugh. Yeah, real funny. So I ring the guy at the rental place. “Hey my tank has imploded,” I said. “I'm not wearing this, I didn't break it, this thing is a hunk of junk, I'm not happy.”

Turns out, the tank wasn't empty, as I first expected. The tank is not venting, so the gas won't flow properly with a vacuum in the tank.

Hire guy suggests after this happens and the bike continues to fail, that I should purchase an emergency plastic filler cap that is actually only suitable for a car and not for a tank of a motorcycle that could risk spewing flammable liquid all over my person.

I continue on the trip, as no other bike was available to replace this hunk of junk. I came to the rally to have fun damn it, and that's what I intend to do!

After the bike continued to fail consistently, I lost the rest of the pack, as I can't keep up on this thing 'cause it keeps breaking down. I was on the side of the road AGAIN having just nearly been killed AGAIN by highway traffic. I was getting just 1 to 2 kms at a time out of it after I fixed it each time.

I rang the hire place again, and suggested that if I laid it over, drained the remaining fuel, I could make a really nice fire out of the bike, (the insurance money could buy the second rate rental company three more bikes off “tade me” probably in better condition than this one). It was getting cold and dark by this time, my 6 1/2 hour ride was into its tenth hour.

Ok, no rental bikes available to replace this heap of crap, no transport, what fun I am having. It was 5:00 p.m. on the 26th of November.I limped the bike into civilization, (Invercargill) and opted to leave the bike in a safe place and take a taxi, at my expense, to find the rest of my party at the rally site.

Many phone calls later, oh the international roam, can't wait for that bill, and still no transport to be had. At8:00 a.m., 27th November, I made my way, by way of a friendly local, back into town to find food and the mechanics shop that the bike was delivered taken to. The lovely people at “Motosouth” believed they fixed the bastard. Sadly, they didn't. In their good will, they filled the tank before taking it for the test ride; hence, the bike performed wonderfully, as it usually did for the first 40km of a full tank.Thanks for all of your trouble trying to get the bike right, but in the end, they conceded that the bike was not a piece of crap, but not worth fixing, nor was it safe.

Ok, over to the wonderfully helpful people at Honda Invercargill they were trying to help me out with a replacement bike, unfortunately, the only bike they had available, was actually not available.

In the meantime, I suggested to the original bike hire (rental) place, that they should hire me a car. They didn't want to do that, no, it would be much better for all the lovely local people to drive me around and try to help me.

No bike available, so the hire place conceded I should have a car. They will pay for it. Too bad there is no “one-way” hire available, and they are not willing to pay for the car to come back to Invercargill.

Almost 5:00 p.m., 27th, November, at last, I have a hire car. The bike rental place agreed to return the car for me, refund the cost of one of the bikes I hired in full, refund the taxi fare, and pay for my international roam calls.

Great, 24 hours later, I have transport, back to enjoy the rally, rally, what rally? I have spent the first two days f**cking around with this dangerous unroadworthy hunk of junk. I am to continue my motorcycle ride up the west coat with my friends in a car–nice one. I think I will can the whole thing. Nothing like taking time off work and wasting your holiday time. Not to mention the interruption to the trip for my friends.

The price to rent the bike was $165 per day, each bike with insurance in excess of $3000. These bikes aren't worth a total of $3000 put together, and I didn't realize I was on the “rent a hack and risk your life” website when I made the agreement. They know who they are, let's just be thankful that an experienced rider got this deathtrap and not some unsuspecting tourist.

The crazy looking engine, and the sign to explain it, just one of the many queer assed things in the hardware store, great place, like a weird free museum, that you can buy tools at.

Sorry Burt, I won't be back next year, I will go to the states instead and hire a nice new Harley for $100 a day from Eagle Rider, and have endless miles of trouble free riding.

But thank you to all the lovely people who helped me try to continue on my way. I may have had to go home in a car, but at least it got me there. Oh, and if you want to hire a bike in new Zealand, try Renta Triumph, at least you know you'll get there and home again.

On a serious note, someone actually got blown off the road and killed due to the high winds, and fuck it was cold.