It’s time to jump on a motorcycle and get out of town
Memorial Day just came and went. That means it’s time to polish those Hogs, ink up those biceps and hit the highways. But not before, of course, grabbing a couple of biker mags off the newsstand.
RoadRunner, we suspect, is a publication not universally embraced by, say, every member of the Hells Angels. Not that this is entirely a bad thing.
But in the June issue, editor Christa Neuhauser gave us a bit of a jolt when, citing an NPR segment and a few university studies, she exhorted us to do some exercise to prepare for riding season.
Putting aside the question of whether it’s cool or uncool for bikers to be doing calisthenics, our beef is that Neuhauser fails to suggest any that are specifically for bikers, leaving us to wonder if we accidentally picked up a copy of Prevention magazine.
Elsewhere, the glossy mag suggests no fewer than nine itineraries ranging from the continental US to a 1,900-mile ride around Japan. Sure, the 220-mile ride circling the Great Smoky Mountains could be breathtaking, as could the 172-mile loop around Eugene, Ore. Unfortunately, readers often don’t get much more than a map and a handful of restaurant suggestions to whet their appetites.
We can understand not wanting to spoil the ride, but a few more teasers about why the journey is ideal for bikers would be nice. Otherwise, we might as well get our itinerary from AAA.
On the one-year anniversary of an 11,000-mile ride through South America, writer Alfonse Palaima rounds up the crew for a 3,000-mile journey through the US Northwest. Too bad — what we get is a perfunctory play-by-play through Lewis and Clark country, ticking off daily mileage and tourist traps. This makes us wonder about the “craziness” he claims to have experienced, without elaborating, on the South American trip.
Funny how it’s Motorcycle Classics, a magazine focused more on the bike than the ride, that really revved our two-wheeled wanderlust.
Joe Berk takes us on a ride through a passage in California’s San Gabriel Mountains called “The Devil’s Punchbowl.” The piece opens with a picture of a San Andreas Fault sign. Berk only gets one page to draw us in, but he has us ready to put our keys in the ignition.
“The Nirvana-like northern segment through the San Gabriels’ scenic twisties is … where the fun begins,” Berk advises. Later he describes a “ragged and rugged canyon” created by “a misbehaving San Andreas fault.”
Having indulged in the “crisp pine-scented mountain air” and taking in views of the Mojave Desert to his right and the San Gabriel summits to his left, Berk stops to recommend the French toast at the Grizzly Cafe. “You can thank me later,” he writes.
Elsewhere, newbies may have a hard time deciphering the jargon in the reviews of classic motorcycles. One casually compared Ducati’s “‘no compromise’ V-twin cafe racer” against Harley-Davidson’s “tarmac-tearing Sportser” and “various road burners from Triumph, BSA, and Norton.”
Another related how the Ducati 750S evolved in the 1970s while remaining “close cousins” to the 750GT “except for having desmodromic cylinder heads instead of the GT’s standard overhead camshaft with coil springs.”
No, there isn’t a glossary in back, but there are pages upon pages of eye candy showcasing the sculptural beauty of classic Hogs, Ducatis, Parillas and others.
Check out Greg Williams’ piece about the 1975 MV Agusta 750S America. Upon hearing its engine rev for the first time more than 30 years ago, veteran biker Mark Cummings said he dropped what he was doing to run outside to hear what was causing “such a glorious noise.”
“I bought it because I wanted to ride it, and because of the visceral reaction I’d had to having heard one running,” Cummings said.