We rode the rest of the night putting mile after mile between us and the town of Oakley. The longer I was on the Raider the more I remembered its particulars; in particular the particulars surrounding its six foot wheelbase and extended rake. When I say extended rake I mean extended relative to the rake of the Suzuki M109 and Larry’s Victory Vegas 8-Ball. Larry’s 8-Ball with its lighter weight and shorter wheelbase was definitely more at home through tight corners while the Raider had the edge in comfort and with those big high speed sweepers. And the M109…well the M109, like the Yamaha Road Warrior with its R1 front end, was one of the elite that would always command a place for all round handling and brute power. To compare them was expected; however to expect one bike to be like the other would be like expecting different restaurants to have the same menu.

It was sunrise when we stopped, “Do you think that lawman a.k.a. the shape shifter will be there if we returned during the daytime?”

Larry walked to the side of the road, “Hard to say. My guess is, if its umbilical cord holds together, it’s retreated into some sort of lair to heal…some sort of dark place.”

“You mean like below that saloon…maybe down in the basement? Its umbilical cord led back into the saloon.”

“I mean like,” laughed Larry, “I’m not going out of my way to find out; I mean like unless we have no other choice we’re not riding back through that place.”

We continued on towards the foot of the mountains knowing we’d never be able to catch up with Hilts and Kate. Our ride was straight for the most part with only the occasional sweeping high speed curve to interrupt its progress. It was as if the road had been made for the M109. It wasn’t until late in the afternoon we arrived and began to skirt the foothills. We’d agreed to meet them at the crossroads which was another five miles; instead we found Kate and Hilts waiting for us around the next corner. The M109 was parked off the shoulder and behind them. Both were waving for us to stop.

“I thought you told us,” I was the first to ask, “to meet you at the crossroads. Why stop here?”

Hilts and Kate looked embarrassedly at each other then back at us. They reminded me of two high school kids caught under the bleachers then having to explain why they were there to the principal.

Kate spoke first, “We stopped to set the third and final monitor. We’d set the first and second of three monitors,” Kate continued at the same time pointing to the foothills behind her. “The third monitor was to be set at the crossroads. We’d then activate the three so as to triangulate crystal frequencies. We’d be able to predict with more accuracy the opening and closing of portals between Borderlands but after further calculations I decided to set the third one here and to…”

“…and, and to rest,” added Hilts. “We were tired and had more than enough time to…”

If Kate could’ve changed to a deeper shade of red she’d have become a tomato. Larry rescued her.

“Hey we’re tired too;” said Larry winking a ‘you old dog’ at Hilts, “I say we all take a nap. I know I’m overdue.”

“We’re ‘all’ overdue;” Hilts had ignored the wink, “but we have a problem.”

And just when things were starting to go smoothly and I said it without winking, “And I thought things were starting to go smoothly?”

“We’ve a problem,” continued Hilts. “I’m pretty sure Middleton a.k.a. Oakley is actually the edge of the city I once created, rather conjured, the one where we first met. I wasn’t aware when we rode through because I was in hurry to get Kate out of there. I should’ve recognized the buildings; they were the first buildings I conjured up creating the city.”

“Your city was disappearing when we left on the Twilight Wave;” it was Larry’s turn, “it was changing to mist.”

“Hilts agreed, “You’re right it was changing to mist; however someone was able to stop, rather reverse the process and then resurrect it…and…”

Somehow I knew the other shoe was about to drop, “…and, and what’s the other shoe?”

“The other shoe is you two must return to Middleton, become my eyes and ears, find out what’s happened. Kate’s the only one that understands how the crystals work but she’ll need me to chauffeur her around,”…and the blush returned to Kate’s face. “I can give Kate a hand but not while checking out Middleton.”

Larry laughed, “So instead of…To Protect and to Serve… your motto is now…To chauffeur and to give Kate a hand…”

“Ok, ok, enough,” I interjected, “We get it. We’re to ride back and investigate. But if your city has been resurrected how do we get its citizens to cooperate? We’ve no official capacity; we can’t just go in and start asking questions.”

“You can if I deputize you.”

“You can deputize us…are you a marshal?”

“Actually I am ‘the’ Marshal. I created the city and to keep order I made myself Marshal. You’ll have official status and that’ll open most doors. You’ll be able to move around relatively freely in your investigation…and.”

“What,” I had to interrupt, “are we looking for?”

“Find out who is behind my city’s resurrection but no confrontations. Report back to me and I’ll deal with them…and no heroics.”

While Hilts was talking he handed us two Safariland holsters and two badges. The badges looked official until I read what was inscribed on them.

“You’ve got to be kidding; our badges have ‘Elvis Fan Club’ printed on them. No one’s going to believe they’re real.”

“If you believe they’re real,” countered Hilts, “then others will believe they’re real. They’ll believe what you say. Bluster and attitude will get you farther than any badge.”

“And if,” it was Larry’s turn, “they don’t believe in our bluster and our fake badges and want to stuff them up our…?”

“Then,” said Hilts pointing to my 44 Magnum now nestled in its new holster, “show them what they will believe.”
Hilts quickly added, “But hey, you’re needlessly worrying about something that’ll probably never occur…just stay cool. You’re there to scout around, find out what’s happened, who’s behind it then report back to me. Once I explain to them their mistake we’ll be able to work things out.”

“And if,” Kate asked in a concerned voice, they don’t want to work things out?”

“Then I’ll call in the cavalry.”

“Cavalry,” Kate asked, “who’s the cavalry?”

“Me,” said Hilts at the same time he stopped smiling.

Hilts’ face quickly changed back into a smile, “Again you’re all assuming the worst. It’s most likely just the simple mistake of someone dreaming someone else’s dream…it happens. I’ll explain to them it’s my dream, my city and to please leave. Most folks are reasonable. Being reasonable they’ll probably apologize, then pack their bags.”

Larry laughed then looked at Hilts, “Even you don’t believe it’ll be that easy?”

Hilts seemed saddened when he took in a deep breath then let it out slowly, “No I don’t…but I want to believe.”

There was really nothing left to do but get something to eat and then some rest. By leaving at a specific time we’d arrive at Middleton in the morning. Our plan was to enter near the saloon by way of the older part of the city then work our way through to the newer sections. Some well directed questions posing as Deputy Marshals, some luck, and we’d have our answers and be on our way back before sundown. And most importantly by leaving before sundown we’d avoid the shape changer.

“I’ll set the alarm,” said Kate, “so as to awaken us when you two have to leave. I’ve calculated the time you’ll need to arrive at sunrise. That’ll give you the rest of the day to find out what Hilts needs to know.”

“You’ll have a full moon with no clouds for your ride,” added Hilts. “Get there, get the info then get out. The fake badges I gave you should work. People rarely look at them.”

 

Except for a dream where my 44 Magnum became as fake as my fake badge; I slept surprisingly well until the alarm went off and Kate awakened us. As Hilts predicted the moon was full and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky…that was the good news. The downside was that without any cloud cover it was going to be a cold ride.

“Bundle up,” said Kate in her best motherly voice, “and get some of my warm coffee into you. I’ll even give you a thermos of it in case you want some later.”

Larry had somehow found an old Navy Pea Coat while I buttoned up as tight as I could in my classic leather jacket. Both the Raider and the Vegas 8-Ball were as ready as they’d ever be and we’d run out of excuses to delay going.

“Remember,” said Hilts as we rode by him and Kate, “you’re only there to gather information then return back here as quickly as you can…no heroics, avoid confrontations if at all possible.”

For the rest of our return ride Larry led at a steady 70 mph. As bright as the moon and cloudless sky made the night and as good as Larry’s vision was we never rode faster. Kate said 70 mph was the perfect speed to get there at dawn.

Kate’s calculations were right on the money and had us arriving at Middleton moments before sunrise. She and particularly Hilts had emphasized again the importance of avoiding any confrontations. Their instructions to not get there too early; just get the info, then get back became my mantra…Oh, and to avoid the shape changer. We crested the hill overlooking the town of Oakley just as the sun rose and Oakley changed into Middleton.

What had once been Oakley became in an instant Middleton when daylight touched it. From the street where the old saloon had been a modern city spread down the hill. It was as Hilts said it would be. He’d recognized it as his creation when he rode by with Kate and Larry now agreed.

“See,” said Larry pointing in the distance, “the elevated highway we rode on and in the far distance the ocean.”

I pointed to where the 1800s era Oakley saloon had been. Memories of the shape changer, in the shape of a horse, talking to us from its balcony were still fresh, “The saloon’s changed; now that the sun’s up it’s become an office building.”

A few cars were parked on the street but it was still too early for anyone to be out and about. Larry rode over and stopped in front of what had been minutes before sunrise the Oakley saloon.

“Hey,” I said at the same time I was picturing a pissed-off seven foot shape changer charging out of one of the shop doors, “is this really a good idea?”

Larry didn’t answer but got off his bike and walked up to a law office on the left and at ground level. He tried the door but it was locked then he stepped back. He seemed fixated on staring at the couch in its waiting room.

“Come here and take a look at that couch; tell me what you see.”

I did as Larry asked and soon found myself standing beside him looking at a typical couch in a typical waiting room.

“Wow,” I said laughing. “What a beautiful piece of motel furniture. So what’s the big deal; what am I seeing?”


I saw what appeared to be a pillow and some blankets on top of the couch and said, “I see what appears to be a pillow and some crumpled blankets on top of a couch which probably means the janitor’s not doing a very good job cleaning up…and aren’t we on a mission for Hilts?”

Larry didn’t answer but walked to where his bike was parked and took an almost emerald green pair of sunglasses from the top of his handlebar bag and handed them to me. I had a pair on my Raider’s bag but it was parked farther away.

“When Auggie Fresnel gave us these glasses he said we’d be able to see things as they really were wearing them.”

“Yes…so what?”



“Look at the couch again but this time wearing the sunglasses. What do you see?”


Without the sunglasses I saw as I had before a couch with a pillow in one corner and some rumpled blankets. I then put on the sunglasses remembering what Auggie (Auggie’s short for Augustin) Fresnel had said…that we’d be able to see things as they really are…clear and with no distortion.

On top of the couch instead of a pillow and some blankets was a shrunken little man with an oversize head and baggy skin. The skin barely covered his bones. He looked dead but then the tiny skeletal hand that he’d squeezed into a fist and tucked up under his chin moved.

“He needs our help,” said Larry the same time he broke the window in the law office door, reached in, turned the knob and walked inside.

“What about the no heroics rule?”

“This is an exception. Help me lift his head; he’s trying to say something.”

The man’s head was huge in comparison to his body. And his body, if you could call it a body, looked like it had been dropped from a ten story building. That he’d managed to crawl onto this couch was impossible; that he was gesturing for us to get closer and was trying to raise his head to speak had to have been a miracle.

“He looks as if every bone in his body was shattered; like he’d been dropped then run over by a truck. He wants us to get closer; he’s whispering something.”

Larry and I bent down to listen. Hilts and Kate’s warning not to do anything heroic was long forgotten; not that we could’ve done anything heroic.

“Hey there little buckaroos, bet ya didn’t expect to see me like this when we met again…can’t talk for very long…you’re both in danger…Middleton’s not what it seems to be…and, and…”

“…and don’t move;” said Larry, “you’re all busted up.”

“Why,” I asked holding up a shriveled but still intact umbilical cord, “with your cord in one piece aren’t you your old seven foot self? Last we saw you’d patched it together.”



“I did patch it. Wouldn’t have hurt you though…scared the crap outta ya…but I wouldn’t have hurt you. I was stationed at the saloon just to scare people away and I was good at it. It wasn’t until the new owners learned that you’d gotten by me and said I’d outlived my usefulness that they cut my umbilical cord at its source. They pulled the plug so to speak on their junkyard dog. Without it my body began to feed upon itself, first on what was left in the cord then on my soft tissue then on my bones. You see me now looking like a deflated balloon filled with broken sticks and connected to a shriveled up garden hose. If you arrived a little later there wouldn’t have been anything left.”

“You should’ve bargained for a better retirement plan.”

Larry interrupted my attempt at humor, “If we follow this shriveled up hose, I mean umbilical cord to its source can we turn it back on and reverse the process?”

It was amazing there was any life in him. Once an imposing shape changer able to change from a horse to a seven foot lawman to who knows what else…he lay crumbled and broken on the couch, not even a shadow of his former self. Whoever did this to him had to have been cold and cruel with no thought as to the suffering their actions would bring. The shape changer had been given the task of frightening people away and up to his encounter with Larry and me he’d been successful. I felt responsible for what had happened to him.

“The process once started can’t be reversed and please don’t,”…he said as if reading my last thoughts, “feel responsible for what’s happened. The new owners were looking for an excuse to replace me.”

Thoughts of something even more formidable than the shape changer made me ask, “What kind of replacement…?”

“They’ll be here with it at sunset. That means you two have only the rest of the day to do what you’ve come to do.”

“What about you…we can’t leave you?”



Larry looked down at the dying little man now turning to stone; once a seven foot shape changing lawman, then over to me, “We gotta make this right. I say we ride into the city, find out what Hilts wants to know then ride back here and introduce ourselves to the new owners.”

I knew before I asked but I had to ask anyway, “What about us not confronting anyone, to just scout around?”

In the time it took to ask my question the little man had turned to stone. I had my answer. We’d be meeting the new owners and I was looking forward to it.





Chapter Twenty Four
Coming soon 

Ron Loynds, owner of Metalsport and three other companies is an interesting cat.

He’s not like a rich business guy who inherited his business from the family and flies in and out of his office in a helicopter. Ron is a biker who worked for his stepdad in a machine shop as a kid. Ron started out cleaning machines and sweeping floors, gradually increasing his knowledge and capabilities along the way. After about 6 years Ron was running the shop. Six years after that Dad retired and Ron took over the business. Dad was ok with the small shop, antiquated equipment and slow pace but Ron wasn’t satisfied. He realized to grow the business he needed to roll up his sleeves and put in some 12-14 hour days, 6 and 7 days a week. As the business grew the hours spent at the shop grew too, so he built a small room at one end of the shop where he could shower and spend the night if it became too late to make the long trek home.

Ron has grown from the single tin building to owning four companies with a dozen buildings. But, Ron has always been a biker and always wanted to be more involved in the industry he loved. In the early ‘70s Ed (Big Daddy) Roth stumbled into Ron’s shop, said that a friend had recommended him, and could he help resolve a problem with his VW Trike project. Ron said “Ed was similar to what Chip Foose is today, he was an illustrator and innovator who could talk about a part and then draw it with enough detail that you could make what he wanted.”

Ron drove the Trike to see the problem for himself. After brainstorming a bit, he designed and fabricated a springer front suspension that immediately resolved all issues Ed was having. From that point on the springer front end became a required part of Ed’s VW Trike Kit.

At that time Ron’s primary business was designing and making tooling and components for Apollo, Space Shuttle, Minuteman and Sidewinder Missiles.

NOTE: During the Cold War a vast arsenal of nuclear missiles were placed in the Great Plains, hidden in plain sight. For thirty years over 1000 missiles were kept on constant alert, hundreds remain today. The Minuteman Missile remains an iconic weapon in the American nuclear arsenal. It holds the power to destroy civilization, but is meant as a deterrent to maintain peace and prevent war.

Ron went on to become much more involved in the motorcycle industry by producing components for aftermarket suppliers and specialty parts for custom bike builders. But, that wasn’t enough for Ron. Ultimately, Ron bought out the diminutive motorcycle wheel division of a major automotive wheel manufacturer and opened shop as Metalsport Inc.

Bikenet worked with Metalsport for several years and I fell in lust with one of Chip Foose’s classic wheel designs, the 2D Nitrous. I’m not a major fan of wild wheels, I like a classic, strong and simple mag wheel design. I’m also attracted to something with an aerodynamic flair or a race look. I met Chip several times at Metalsport and he was always willing to flip open his sketch pad and discuss design notions.

When I first encountered Metalsport and realized Ron’s willingness to build a small business in the Custom Motorcycle Industry I was impressed with his sense of direction and classic style. He wanted to build beautiful custom wheels and offer complete packages with wheels, rotors and pulleys. But, something was missing.

As Metalsport’s reputation for quality, innovation and value grew, Ron kept looking for other avenues to promote the business. Metalsport developed a partnership with tire manufacturer Vee Rubber and together they started the “Big Wheel” craze. At the time 26” wheels were the hot thing. Not satisfied to go with the flow, Metalsport invested the money to tool a 30” tire and wheel, and they were off and running. About 12 months later they tooled the 32” wheel and tire. In that same timeframe, Metalsport pitched a line of Whitewall tires and that too was a hit. Through its customers, Metalsport researched availability and desirability of various sizes of Whitewall Tires. Based on that research Vee Rubber invested greatly in tooling 10 sizes of Whitewall Tires that were not currently available in the marketplace.

Metalsport became a Tire Distributor, stocking the Big Wheel Tires along with Standard Replacement sizes for Harley. This was the missing link giving Metalsport the ability to offer a complete package, Wheels, Hubs, Rotors, Pulleys and Tires, mounted and balanced, ready to install. Just take off your old wheel, slide the axle into the new wheel package, tighten a couple nuts and ride.

We make every effort to carry the tire sizes our customer’s need.” said Ron. “We still offer pre-mounting and balancing before we ship. We highly recommend taking advantage of this service if ordering 26” and larger wheels.” It’s too easy to fuck up the wheel or tire.

Blanks for the wheels are machined from aluminum plate “Billet” or aluminum rotary “Forgings”. Typically, wheels 26” and larger are machined from “Billet” Plate. Never resting on its laurels, Metalsport moved forward to develop a complete line of forged wheels purchasing the tooling needed to produce the 30” and 32”, “2D” and “3D” wheel blanks as well. As icing on the cake, Metalsport installed a new, quarter million doller, 4-Axis CNC ‘monster’ machine capable of machining any size wheel. Being the only manufacturer of True “3D” wheels, Metalsport stands out from the crowd.

With the machining capability and full line of “Forged” Blanks, Metalsport offers a quality wheel blank to the industry at a cost savings of about 50% under the typical cost of “Billet” Blanks.

In order to keep production time to a minimum, Ron brought a polishing facility onto his property, installing three upright polishing units and one automatic polisher just for wheels. Running the polishing operation is a Master Polisher with years and years of experience who does a truly fantastic job. Metalsport is also considering investing in a chrome shop to better serve its customers. They’re not messing around.

There’s also a new wheel size in the works, but that’s hush-hush.

Metalsport offers Finished Wheels, Wheel Blanks, Tires and Polishing Services to Distributors, Wheel Manufacturers and Bike Builders world wide.

It was that time of year again when THE HORSE SMOKE-OUT storms into Rockingworld, North Carolina like a freight train on fire. The weather was perfect, sunshine 82 degrees and no humidity (which is rare). Perfect!

This year The Smoke-Out was damn special for me. My son, Zach, bought a bike last November. We left the wives at home. I have been working with him with his riding and I have to say I was impressed with his skills! This was our first real trip together, so I had my eye in the mirror on the way to Rockingham.

Zach, was amazed at what he saw, especially the painted ladies! They were taking up “TIPS FOR TITTIES.” And he said he would give them $2 if he could touch them? I guess a little of me rubbed off on him!

The Smoke Out remains my favorite event. Edge and The Horse crew do an outstanding job each year with this event. So, what do I like the best? No BIG wheel baggers with 20 speakers blaring!

Old school rules at the Smoke Out. Flatheads, Knuckleheads, Panheads, Shovelheads, Evos, and a hand full of Twin cams packed the grounds. These guys at the Smoke-Out don’t believe in windshields, fairings and most do not run saddlebags. You will spot bedrolls and travel bags strapped to sissybars and handlebars. Most of the Smoke Out riders believe, “if it doesn’t fit in your pocket, leave it at home!”

The Smoke Out for me is the way it’s supposed to be. Pure, simple and fun, nothing extra! The bikes at the Smoke-Out are as unique as their owners. Each bike has a personality.

They are built with heart and soul. Most of these bikes are garage built by their owners. They beat everything they have into each rusty fastener, and I am not talking about money! I am talking about their heart and soul reflected in each weld, old find, or paint job. All the late nights, all the planning, all the last minute changes, all the hours in the garage all come together at the Smoke Out in the bikes you see.

Another thing I like about the Smoke Out are the folks. They are REAL! They’re not flashing everyone on how much money they spent on their bikes. They are standing in the dirt and heat because they LOVE custom bikes, rock ‘n’ roll and the wild characters, who ride this shit!

I love just sitting back and watching the parade of bikes at the Smoke-Out, the sound of open belt drives, open drag pipes, and girls with open shirt. It’s good for the soul, well my soul anyway!

The Smoke Out is the place for rigid frames, chains and flames. It’s the only place on the planet where once a year painted ladies, white-lightening, mini-bike races, burn-outs, wet t-shirts, southern rock, and shit too wild to describe. It’s the motorcycle Burning Man.

I also hooked up with old friends. I ran across my pal Ben Jordan, one of the finest bike builders you will ever find and my buddy Rusty Nash, one of the best painters around. He painted Bandit’s Indian.

Make plans for Smoke-Out 18, you won’t be sorry! You will be sorry if you miss it…

Until next time, ride!
–STEALTH!

The ROK riding club is proud to announce sponsorship of the Sisters’ Centennial Motorcycle Ride. Sarah Van Buren, the great-grand niece of the Van Buren sisters, will take part in the event, riding an accessorized Kawasaki Vulcan® S cruiser.

Two long time ROK team members, Sue Slate and Virginia Shear, will be helping to lead riders from sea to shining sea. The women will be riding touring motorcycles, a 2016 Kawasaki Versys® 650 and a 2016 Concours® 14, courtesy of KMC.

“We want to create a life altering experience for these riders,” said Slate, who helped determine the route for the ride. The route runs through secondary highways and scenic byways, more like the route in the original ride, which happened long before interstate highways connected the regions of the United States. The ride will also venture up Pikes Peak summit and finish with a Grand Finale Party in San Francisco. Other descendants of the Van Buren sisters will be participating in the ride. The ride is “not designed to be an Iron Butt,” it is designed more for sightseeing and building camaraderie and most days consist of around 250-300 mile rides. Significant stops along the route include:

•Brooklyn, New York Ride Launch Party, (July 3)
•Springfield, Massachusetts LAUNCH PARTY (July 4-5)
•Latrobe, Pennsylvania – LINCOLN HIGHWAY EXPERIENCE (July 7)
•Pickerington, Ohio – AMA HALL OF FAME AND AMA VINTAGE DAYS (July 8-9)
•Anamosa, Iowa – NATIONAL MOTORCYCLE MUSEUM (July 11)
•McCook, Nebraska – Community Event (July 13)
•Colorado Springs, Colorado – ROCKY MOUNTAIN MOTORCYCLE MUSEUM (July 15)
•Pikes Peak, Colorado – PIKES PEAK EVENT (July 15)

ABOUT KAWASAKI
Kawasaki Heavy Industries, Ltd. (KHI) started full-scale production of motorcycles over a half century ago. The first Kawasaki motorcycle engine was designed based on technical know-how garnered from the development and production of aircraft engines, and Kawasaki’s entry into the motorcycle industry was driven by the company’s constant effort to develop new technologies. Numerous new Kawasaki models introduced over the years have helped shape the market, and in the process have created enduring legends based on their unique engineering, power, design and riding pleasure. In the future, Kawasaki’s commitment to maintaining and furthering these strengths will surely give birth to new legends.

Kawasaki Motors Corp., U.S.A. (KMC) markets and distributes Kawasaki motorcycles, ATVs, side x sides, and Jet Ski® watercraft through a network of approximately 1,100 independent retailers, with close to an additional 7,700 retailers specializing in general purpose engines. KMC and its affiliates employ nearly 3,100 people in the United States, with approximately 300 of them located at KMC’s Foothill Ranch, California headquarters.

We’ve come to the Saddlemen point in the story, to finish Jim’s seat construction over his custom fiberglass pan. The notion was to help Jim with a cool custom-styled seat, but when it comes to Saddlemen there’s much more to seat fabrication, and their mantra revolves around comfort.

Tom Seymour and Dave Echert have been in the seat-making business for 40-some years and they are as passionate today about the technology as they were when they first poured resin over fiberglass several decades ago. It’s a whole new ballgame today, and all to your benefit.

“The code behind seats now is comfort, engine vibration and the effects of road shock,” David said. “It’s all about how long you can remain in the saddle comfortably. It’s the largest piece of real estate on a motorcycle touched by the rider.” Seats, pegs and grips have the only interaction with the rider. “A seat must enhance shock absorption, enhance rider’s comfort, fix position, govern ride height, and guide the rider in his efforts to maneuver whatever motorcycle he rides.”

First they added a narrow C-channel extrusion around the edge to protect the edge of the pan and whatever upholstery material was used.

With custom seats, Saddlemen uses blocks of foam glued and hand-shaped, or similar seat shaped foam modified to fit. One of the team members, who has been on staff for over 40 years, hand-shaped the foam.

Jim’s seats were slammed for a low profile look and then studied for style, sitting position and design.

The team also ground the foam for gel inserts. A barrier was added below to protect the foam, then the gel pads inserted.

Once the shape was refined, the seat was wrapped with masking tape, and then the lines for stitching were drawn. Once these shapes were cut out and laid out flat, they become the perfect seat pattern. A ¼-inch area was added to the edge for sewing, and then the covering material was selected.

Dave worked hard with his Saddlehyde producer to develop hearty satin shaded covers. It’s sorta like the common named material only better. They studied the capabilities of upholstery, fabrics and leather. We went through a stretch where leather was super-cool and Saddlehyde were considered passé. The Saddlemen team researched beyond cool. They wanted to know what worked and how it worked. As it turned out, Saddlehyde was much more than a simple fabric. They worked in UV/sun resistance, water absorption, fire resistance, mildew, stretch, grain, and the list goes on. 

Some fabrics are rigid, including some leathers. All the terrific foam under the leather coating can’t work if the covering isn’t flexible in the correct direction. Saddlemen started to work with a major fabric producer and learned the flexible technology.

Saddlehyde is actually a vinyl covering of various thicknesses, patterns and chemical compounds. Under it is a flexible mesh, which can be ordered to stretch in various directions for just the right movement to support the foam and gel technology, and allow all elements to breathe and dissipate heat.

That cool-looking material wrapped over your seat performs several functions. It can’t crack in the bitter cold. It must be color-fast, UV resistant, breathe, resist abrasions, and last. After Dave selected the material with Jim’s input, they cut the pieces and embroidered the Saddlemen logo in place.

The long-term staff performed final stitching and color to match Jim’s design. It’s a family organization, with many members bringing additional family to work for Saddlemen over the years.

 Just before the stitched and hemmed fabric is slipped over the seat on final layer of thin foam is wrapped over the seat to protect all the elements inside and enhance the final shape.

As a final detail touch the Saddlemen team carpeted the bottom of Jim’s pan to protect the outside of the pan and make it look handsome and finished.

Another amazing Saddlemen creation.

GELcore is engineered to dampen, divert, and deflect energy through a mechanical process resulting in a smooth, therapeutic ride.

Our technique combines a specifically formulated viscoelastic polymer also known as SaddleGEL with the latest in co-molding comfort technology to reduce engine vibration transmitted to your body by up to 50%, and reduce direct impact forces by up to 92%.

Saddlemen invented GELcore Technology and today we are widely recognized as the industry leader, selling more gel seats than any other seat manufacture. However, when it comes to the benefits of gel don’t take our word for it.

NASA uses gel to protect sensitive camera equipment on the Space Shuttle Discovery as it pierces the Earth’s atmosphere at 17,000 mph. NASA also uses gel to keep the International Space Station in orbit. Gel is currently used in the medical industry for Wheelchairs and Hospital beds to promote blood flow, and major league baseball mitt manufactures utilize this cutting edge material to dampen the impact of a 100mph fastball.

Instead of relying on foam cushions or air that may impose improper contours, a riding saddle with GELcore Technology provides a topographically neutral suspension that will conform to the shape of the person who sits in it. Using pressure-mapping technology, we experimented with different tensions across the backrests and seats, fine-tuning our designs to produce the desirable distribution patterns: peak pressure zones under the ischium, with wide distribution of lower values along the thighs and across the back, avoiding the spine and the area behind the knees.

GELcore Technology is a scientific approach to minimize circulation-restricting pressure with just the right combination of material layers, by curving the ProFoam structure away from pressure-sensitive areas of the body and cushioning it with Comfort­Foam while dampening shock and vibration with SaddleGEL. Co-Molding the materials with this technique is what makes Saddlemen’s GELcore Technology far superior to the homogenous polyurethane foam seat mounted on your stock motorcycle.

To learn more please visit us online at www.saddlemen.com

Getting a Quote

Determining The Mode of Transport

Enclosed Transport: If a motorcycle is being shipped cross country or even overseas, many people opt for enclosed shipping as it is safe and secure, but also allows room to haul personal items along with the bike. Enclosed shipping options are going to cost more than open air and even crated, but if you need to ship items along with the bike, this is going to be your best bet for transport.

Getting the Motorcycle Ready For Transport

Local Shipping. For shipping local, you will probably ship via open air transport whether that may be a large, flatbed trailer or a smaller motorcycle trailer. You still need to get your bike ready even if may only be moving from one side of town to the other.
To prepare for local transport:
•Wash the motorcycle.
•Remove loose accessories including luggage racks and other items that can possibly fall off.
•Make sure there is enough fuel to load and unload the bike.
•Check for fluid leaks.
•Check the tire pressure to ensure the bike will easily roll onto the carrier.
•If the bike is inoperable, the company needs to know ahead of time.
•Check closely for signs of damage and note everything before the bike is loaded.
•Take time and date stamped pictures to keep in your files.
For long distance (cross country) transport:
•As with local transport, the motorcycle should be washed and all loose items removed.
•If using crated shipping, chances are that the gas and other fluids will need drained.
•If using flatbed, uncrated or a large enclosed trailer, the gas may remain in the bike.
•For crating purposes, many companies will require that the tire pressure be lowered and the battery removed.
•Walk with the driver and take note of any signs of damage before the bike is loaded.

Overseas transport:
•Make sure the bike is clean.
•Remove all loose personal items.
•For overseas shipment, the fuel needs drained.
•The battery should be removed unless the company specifies otherwise.
•Detailed pictures should be taken of the motorcycle as well as the crate before it is shipped.

About to celebrate its 20th anniversary, the annual Two-Stroke Extravaganza pitched its tents at the popular Hansen Dam 40-acre recreational area located in Lake Terrace, CA in the North Valley about a half hour’s ride from downtown L.A.

At the event’s helm were Paul Kralick and Mike Martinez, the two even handcrafting the show trophies from 2-stroke parts. Says Paul “The first show back in ’98 was held at La Mirada and I think about five guys showed up. We’ve come a long way since then, the event attracting a great variety of machines, many rarely seen. We’re just guys that love the 2-stroke bikes and have a loose-knit group, no dues or rules, focusing on rides throughout the year as well as the show.”

When asked for his pick of some of the rally’s highlights, Paul says, “Just seeing Jay Leno ride up on the Scott Flying Squirrel was great. We had invited him to the show when we saw him at Newcomb’s Ranch the day before on our pre-show ride through the Angeles Crest. We had riders from San Francisco, Arizona, Nevada and locally. We all jumped on our bikes and rode 60 miles out to the canyons.”

Among the many rare machines that made an appearance at the Extravaganza was the Suzuki “Gamma” RG500, circa ’85-87. The 94 HP/ 350 lb. street legal race replica was ridden by Nick Cook who happens to live just two miles from the famous SoCal bike gathering spot “Cooks Corner.” The Gamma family included engine displacements of 250, 400 and the 500, the name linked to Suzuki’s RG “Gamma” GP racer that had taken seven consecutive wins in the 500cc class. Meanwhile the “Cook” family includes several classic two-strokers brought to the event. Nick’s restored 1973 Kawi 750 H2 triple garnered the rally’s Best Kawasaki trophy and a restored bad-boy blue ‘71 Kawi 500 H1 triple also took an award.

The 500’s big brother, the Mach IV H2 was launched in 1972 and rightly tagged a “superbike.” It set a production bike ¼ mile record of 11.95 seconds at 115.38mph on March 11, 1972. Though a monster, it was relatively refined and sold new for $1395 circa’72-’75. Prices have accelerated since then.

A 2-stroke bike that sold by the droves in the U.S. was the ‘70s Yamaha RD350/400s, many of which showed up in force for the Extravaganza, both restored and modified and that included Bill O’Hanlon’s “plum purple” 1975 RD350 that earned the “Best Modified” show award.

One of the event highlights was the “mass light up” that involved everyone switching on their bikes and taking several “parade laps” around the staging area. Like they say, the sound alone was worth the price of admission. And that included the distinctive growl of the near legendary Kawi 500 and 750 triples that back in the ‘70s the mags called “scary fast.” Today they’re much prized motorcycle milestones as were many of the bikes in the show or ridden in by spectators. That said, the event was free to the public, any funds made going to paying for the park permits, etc. Sponsors that help made the show a great success included early founder Doug from Moto Carrera in Washington State, HVC Cycle located in Nebraska and Economy Cycle in Illinois. Summing it up organizer Paul Kralick says, “The Hansen Park people were great and we’ll be back here next year for the 20th.

Refined Panic
When you threw your leg over a Kawi H2 750, you were dancing with one of motorcycling’s most fearsome street machine. Best Restoration went to Rodney Peacock for his outstanding ’72 H2.

Who First Lit the 2-Stroke Match?
It all began puffing along in 1880 when an English engineer Dugald Clerk banged together a 2-stroke engine design. But then it took about another 25 years before another Brit, one Alfred Scott, secured the first patent for a 2-stroke, in this case a V-Twin. To further enshrine his name into the history books, a few years later in 1912 he came up the rotary valve engine. Scott was also the innovative thinker that gave the world the Scott Flying Squirrel motorcycle, and yes the bike ridden to the Extravaganza by Jay Leno.

Two-strokes initially burst upon the international scene in a big way during the 1960s World Championships when Yamaha and Suzuki took command of the event taking the checkered flag. What won on the track won on the showroom floor as well, resulting in a plethora of ringy-dingers literally popping up from various manufacturers. Eventually design changes did away with was the messy separate mixing of oil and gasoline when Yamaha introduced its “Autolube” design that automatically mixed both fuel and lubricant, something found in the family of Yamaha RD models as well as many others.

Thumbs up goes to this Yamaha FZ, the V-4 featuring then radical 5-valve cylinder head in a radial design producing a 750cc bike good enough in ’85 to offer 150mph.

The GT stands for “Grand Touring” as the 550 was part of the 3-cyclinder 2-stroke series produced by Suzuki including 60,000 of the 550s produced in just six months in 1972. The front cylinder scoop was part of the “Ram Air” cooling system to help reduce temperature induced power loss. For the U.S. market the bike was also tagged the “Indy” model, the bike producing about 50 HP.

Best Kawasaki – 1973 H2 750 Nick Cook
Best Honda – 1996 NSR 250 Gary Bjorling
Best Exotic – Pete Phillips 1966 Bultaco Metralla 250
Best Yamaha – Dan Patterson 1976 RD 400
Best Daily Rider – Mitch Feingerseth 1972 Kawasaki H2 750
Best Suzuki – Jose Tejeras 1976 GT 550
Best Restoration – Rodney Peacock 1972 Kawasaki H2 750
Best Scooter/Moped – George Yamanaka 1971 Suzuki Trailhopper 50
Best Off Road/Enduro – A Pro’s Touch 1974 Suzuki TM 125
Stage 13 Porting Award – Stacy Porter 1977 Yamaha RD 400
Best Modified – Bill O’Hanlon 1975 Yamaha RD 350
Best Rat Bike – Sam Hoffman 1976 Bultaco Alpina 250
Best of Show – Gary Bjorling 1996 Honda NSR 250

Sitting alone at my steaming computer at midnight, slamming keys like the Hell on Wheels crew with sledgehammers against railroad spikes in the 1880s. I was pissed, when the phone rang and a gravely voice from far away started to drill questions into me.

“Where’s Atomic Bob?” the voice coughed.

“How the hell would I know?” I said and sipped whiskey. “Who the hell is this?”

“This is detective Rancid Dung,” he said. “Where’s Bob?”

I hung up as if it was another Chinese telemarketing team disturbing my Wa at all hours, trying to give me a free trip to Vegas, if I spent my lifesavings on a monthly carpet cleaning contract.

Atomic Bob sizzled in a hot prison cell in the Lorain Correctional Institute in Ohio a few months back. Convicted of robbing a chain of pet stores of miniature poodles for the love of his life, Bob spent almost a year behind bars, initially. But the sentence was extended. He kept fucking up. 

To support his family he still drew and painted art pieces, when the facility would allow him anything but rat-chewed pencils and oil stained paper. He had to draw or die trying. Each time a piece was due he escaped the prison to personally deliver his magnificent works to his lovely Sara Belle. Each time he returned to his confines officials heightened his security, extended the sentence or moved him. He was hauled under armed escort to the Belmont Correctional Institution and thrown into the hold.

He drew a ’55 Buick for a guard and was allowed colored pencils and to join the prison population.

Then the next deadline came during his next call to his blonde and beautiful wife. “Honey-child I have another delightful task for you,” Sara’s voice immediately melted his resolve. He would do anything to look into her eyes and kiss her satin neck. Made him quiver and reach for his pens.

This time Atomic Bob and the Buffalo Chip
Craftsmen and fans would join together at the Buffalo Chip in Sturgis to raise money during the Flying Piston Builder Breakfast, in benefit of Tech Ed Scholarships. “You will contribute one of your beautiful paintings, won’t you honey,” Sara said. Bob couldn’t wait.

Guests at the breakfast, organized by Marilyn Stemp, will have an awesome time enjoying photo opportunities and celebrating with some of the best custom builders in the industry. Marilyn needed donated art pieces for the raffle and worked her marketing magic to recruit talent, including Sara Belle and Atomic Bob.

Bob knew exactly what his contribution would be, a recent notion of a green-flaked, hand-drawn bobber. He pondered an 80ci Harley Evolution built by, Sucker Punch Sally and featured in a book titled, Art of the Bobber by Spencer Drate and Judith Salavetz. He also thought about a barn where he could meet Sara on a moonlit night.

When asked why he selected this style of bike over his standard vintage style Atomic said, “I liked all of the nickel plating and the simplicity; it didn’t have a lot of wiring hanging off of it. I wanted to accentuate the chrome and motor components highlighting fine line details with Micron pens. It had a very deep, beautiful candy-coated paint job. I chose to transform the hue from maroons to deep greens because it’s my favorite color.” It’s also the deep flowing green of the grassy knoll separating his recent halfway house confinement from the tattered, leaning barn on the other side, the potential meeting place.

Atomic recently invented a new style of art, which he called, “Modern Mechanical.” “Modern Mechanical consists of ultra clean line work with attention to detail using minimal color,” Bob said. He can experiment with this new style of art since being permitted to have colored art supplies at his latest digs, the Community Corrections Association of Youngstown, Ohio.

He created the gas tank and fenders to have an impression of metal flake using a technique called stippling. Atomic is also a pinstriper and he added pinstriping to the tank to feature his personal design elements.

The bobber was drawn and inked with Micron pens, Prisma colored pencils and markers carefully inspected for weapons and keys before he was allowed to touch them. What makes this original 11×14 framed art piece unique is that it is prison art! Atomic Bob’s prison sentence is winding down if he doesn’t fuck it up because of a burning desire to get his hands all over Sara Belle.

Atomic has just a few original prison art pieces including these rare pieces from his time behind bars and one of very few in color.

His sentence may be extended again. He climbed over a chain-link fence to spend the night in the hay with Sara Belle and deliver on deadline. They busted him trying to return to his quarters unnoticed, but it was worth it to spend the night with Sara and support this Chip Charity effort.

“I hope the auction winner likes the bobber piece,” said Bob, trying to convince his parole officer of his good intentions.

Silent auction items are provided by Harley-Davidson Footwear, Howard Knight of Rocking K Custom, Revere Seats, Artist Darren McKeag, Low Brow, the notorious Atomic Bob, Aeromach, Cycle Source, Jekill & Hyde and others.”

A limited number of builder breakfast tickets are on sale now for $20 each at www.BuffaloChip.com/FlyingPistonBreakfast

All proceeds benefit the Buffalo Chip’s Scholarship Fund established to help high school graduates and U.S. military veterans pursue motorcycling as a career.

Shortly thereafter, one of my readers sent an email with photos of an immaculate, 34,000 original mile, 1991 Electra Glide he was asking $4,500 for. I’d told the guy no. My intention was to ride Betsy forever. Then I woke up one morning and thought, I’ll just spend this three grand anyway. What the hell, I can sell that other bike and probably turn a profit or, if not, all its parts will fit Betsy. It’ll be like money in the bank. So I’d called a wealthy friend in Kansas to ask if he’d care to put up the other $1,500 then hold the bike and title till I got around to paying him. Derek had been suggesting I get another bike for years and whenever I’d pull up to his house he’d look at poor beat up Betsy and say, “Anyone get hurt in that wreck?” Besides, he owns the remainder of Big Dog Motorcycle company and makes his living buying and selling motorcycle parts. If I died he’d simply sell the bike and keep the profit. Derek had then bought the new bike and had it shipped to his home in Kansas. Once arrived, he’d sent a message that read, Got your bike. It’s way to nice for you. I now almost owned a motorcycle I’d never seen nor wanted.

As the miles passed this memory had faded, for now there were more pressing fish to fry…

For some months I’d been receiving calls from an audio documentary company called Everything Is Stories. Over the phone Mike and I had been working to nail down a time and place to fly his crew for the purpose of an interview. It was a daunting task considering my flaky existence of mostly mindless wandering and no schedules, alarm clocks, or calendars. Eventually however, we’d settled on New Orleans in the fall. But Betsy had then developed a serious vibration problem and I’d ended up at Dale’s Bike Shop (a good friend) near Beaumont Texas with her engine pulled apart. After some testing I’d ultimately decided that, with 330,000 miles on that mill (her second) I’d not spend the time or money to repair it. The search for another engine began.

As I’d talked of this breakdown on social media some of the readers began asking where they could send donations. I’d then asked why they’d want to do such a thing and soon received a call from a woman who wanted to know if I make any real money from my writing.

“Not really Ann. Mostly I write for the readers.”

“Exactly. Now they want to help you. Let them!”

I conceded. Next, Dale put up an engine replacement gofundme and the money began to trickle in. In amazement I made promise that all who contributed would have their names painted on my tour pack as sponsors.

With the Everything Is Stories interview less than two weeks away, I was stuck in Texas without a motor, and Mike could no longer get a refund for the New Orleans plane tickets he’d already purchased. I liked Mike, had made him a rather expensive promise, and didn’t wanna let the guy down. The search for an engine began.

Remembering a friend in Louisiana of whom I’d seen an EVO engine sitting in his garage, I had placed a call. Three days later Evan had driven five hours to deliver that engine in the trunk of a small car and for only $1,200. It was in and running the next day.

Then, while in New Orleans, the gofundme money had finished trickling in at a total of $2,400 and I’d simply taken that money and paid off the Kansas motorcycle, then pointed Betsy’s front wheel into deep Mexico for the hardest months of winter.

After that had come another breakdown at another friend’s shop in North Carolina and I’d begun to wonder if Betsy hated me. It seemed all I did was ride from shop to shop working on the damn thing these days, and serious travel had become a real problem. Over and over I reminded Betsy that, with the money and trouble of these recent repairs, I was offering her a chance. For I now owned another bike and, if she didn’t straighten up her act forthwith, she might end up in a bone-yard somewhere. Although mostly an idle threat, I was beginning to mean it.

By morning I rode slowly to the next little Kansas town, asked around, and was directed to a large barn where a single farm-boy stood working on a tractor. I showed him the frame with a statement that it just needed a band-aid strong enough to make another 190 miles where the bike would then be retired. He said, “I can fix that”.

“Want me to clean off the dirt before you start wielding?”

“What about the rust?”

It was Betsy’s final ride as we passed the gate and onto the 100 acres of Kansas prairie that held Derek’s big house with pond surrounding three of its four sides, and two big metal buildings set nearby. My new bike was just as he’d said: beautiful condition with only 34,000 original miles. But the new Electra Glide—minus tour pack, lower leg guards, etc.—was incomplete for long term gypsy road use. It was time to make a decision:

For the following week I visited with Derek and his wife Donna, helped with their bike parts business, swam in the pond, spent time with their friends, went fishing, and simultaneously swapped parts from my old bike to the new. What I then found in Betsy seemed most astonishing: Almost every part was broken, rusted, cracked, or otherwise somehow screwed up. Betsy did not hate me, the poor thing was dying of cancer. Some will understand, while others do not, but to watch the death of such an intimate and long time companion was an emotional experience for me.

But the Sturgis rally lay ahead. Next would come Montana. After that who knew?

My experience with the evolution engine Harleys has been the ability to ride the hell out of them with an absolute minimum of breakdowns. In fact my first EVO—a 1987 Softail—had offered its very first problem at 85,000 miles.