Long Way Anywhere

After spending the last 15 years or so on Harley-Davidson Motorcycles, I decided to make a switch to the Adventure-Touring segment. I purchased an older BMW GS and honestly, couldn’t be happier at the moment. There are many great bikes out on the market, and I realize that it isn’t so much the BMW GS itself but more so I just needed a change. After my trip to the Sturgis Rally this year, I made up my mind that when I got home I was going to do it.

I’ve been a big fan of the GS series and as a matter of fact, I like the Harley-Davidson Pan America due to be release in the near future. But thanks to Ewan McGregor and Charley Boorman, I’ve wanted a BMW GS for many years. This is one step in the process of getting back to exploring the backroads that are hidden away – much like I did when I first discovered motorcycles. Of course I’m not riding the Road of Bones in Russia like Ewan and Charley, the back-roads of Morris county will have to do.

Of course I’m not riding the Road of Bones in Russia like Ewan and Charley, the back-roads of Morris county will have to do.

But there is a larger point I’m trying to make. Sometimes we need to go back to our roots and find that ember that lit the passion of motorcycling within us. We need to see where we came from to understand where we might be headed – not only as motorcyclists, but also as a industry. It has been reported Ewan McGregor and Charley Boorman are filming Long Way Up, number three in a series of traveling the globe, while riding the Harley-Davidson LiveWire electric bike. When this hit the internet, you could hear a collective groan from the masses. How can you do a Long Way Anywhere on a electric motorcycle with a range of 100 miles? How will you cross streams and climb Yak trails on a street bike with a design more akin to traveling the Road of Potholes?

How can you do a Long Way Anywhere on a electric motorcycle with a range of 100 miles? How will you cross streams and climb Yak trails on a street bike with a design more akin to travel the Road of Potholes?

Unless these Yak trails are in your neighborhood, it might be difficult to do so in the wild without the electrical grid required to get you back home. But here we are – making an adventure from what you might least expect. Putting the excitement into riding and making the adventure about man and machine. Wait, this sounds eerily similar to what Ewan and Charley have done in each of the Long Way series riding their BMW GS’s.

So back to my point. No matter where we’ve been, the roads we traveled or where they may lead us today, we will continue to ride. We evolve – not only as riders but also in what we ride. The adventure is what you make it, whether you are a beginner or have a million miles under your seat. Let’s support the industry we’re involved in and let’s support each other. Let’s see where this crazy ride takes us, but more importantly let’s remember how we got here and how much fun it was. If E-Bikes are the future then I believe the manufacturers will make them the most badass bikes we’ve ever seen. Kind of like we have now? Why not? At least I know I’ve come a long way.

1974 Harley-Davidson 90

Viking Cycle Prestige Canvas and Leather Motorcycle Gloves

A couple of weeks before my pilgrimage to Sturgis for the 79th Annual Motorcycle Rally, Viking Bags USA asked me to take a pair of gloves with me and give them a try. If any of you were to look through my saddlebags, you would find I carry quite a bit of random stuff. It’s not unusual for me to have two or three pairs of gloves in my saddlebags for the changing weather, and of course this trip was no different. On more than one occasion, I have offered a pair of gloves to a biker in need, and I’m sure any biker would do the same for me. When the Viking Cycle Prestige Canvas/Leather Motorcycle Gloves showed up on my doorstep, I was impressed with the construction, fit and look. As a budget-friendly pair of gloves, I was anxious to try them out. Anyway, I gladly packed the gloves from Motorcyclehouse UK and organized for my trip. Organized – that’s a funny word for me.

Perforated Genuine Cowhide Palm
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The Friday morning I headed out was rather cool for August since we have had some rain, and I thought this would be a great way to test the pair from Motorcyclehouse AU. My first impression was how they fit. Often, gloves will have a finger that is too long or short, or the flexibility is limited and your hands don’t have the full movement you want. The Prestige Canvas Glove has a leather ribbing over the knuckles to allow flex giving them the already-broken-in feel. I wear an XL glove and these actually fit my hands great. With my hands covered, I fired up my already loaded bike and hit the highway with plans of making Sturgis by late afternoon.

Riding along, I started thinking about how many pair of gloves I have used over the years. How many have been left on top of a gas pump after filling up and how I kicked myself for not buying two pair when I found some that I liked. As riders, we have our favorite gear – gear that we trust. Whether it’s a helmet that fits right, a jacket that protects you from the elements or a pair of gloves that are comfortable. These Viking Cycle AU Gloves do the trick.

So a little about these Prestige Canvas Riding Gloves. They have a cotton canvas back with a genuine cowhide leather palm that is perforated for breath-ability. They are easy to slip on and come with a wrist closure to snug them up. And here’s the kicker – the fingertips are touch-screen friendly. Yep, you don’t have to take your glove off when holding your phone. This feature is usually found in gloves twice the price! And right now they retail for $24.99 on Viking Cycle’s UK website.

After my trip to South Dakota and a few short rides since, I found these gloves to be a great addition to my gear. Let’s face it, we can spend a lot on motorcycle gear, but this is a nice glove for the price and allows you to keep a few bucks in your pocket. Head over to Viking Cycle, follow them on social media and check out the Prestige Canvas Glove and other gear! We’ll see you on the road!

Three More Sleeps

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It happens every year in the month leading up to Sturgis. I go back and forth about whether I’m going, the highs and low’s of planning and then it all comes together and a date gets penciled in. Or does it? This year it does.

I’m actually getting my gear together and making a list of those items I will forget. It never fails, you can put it all in a pile and you end up taking those things you really will never need and leave behind the necessities. Of course you can pick up anything you need along the way, but that isn’t the point. I have it sitting right there on the garage floor.

I’ve sent a few messages to people I know who will be there in hopes of meeting up for a beer. I know I want to head out to the Full Throttle to see the progress in person, and do a couple of rides in the area that I haven’t done in a few years. Man, I wish The Knuckle Saloon still had the amateur MMA fights like they used to. Oh well, I’m sure there will be plenty going on, it’s just a matter of wandering around.

So, the next decision is which direction to ride on the way up. I’ve taken about every road up and back, mixing up the scenery and giving those few crooks the opportunity to skim my card at the gas pump. Yes, this has happened. Like every trip I take, I always have a goal of meeting some locals in hopes they tell me their life story. It will happen, and I’ll be all ears. That’s okay and it never gets old listening to someone tell me a little about themselves or the community in which they live. Good stuff.

As I sit here typing this, I should be in the garage packing some stuff. I did get my cup holder mounted. I struggled with that. Not from mounting it, but rather if I need it. Really? A cup holder? Hey, it’s a long trip.

I guess Friday morning is only a couple of sleeps away, and there will be plenty of time to gather my crap and strap it down. I’m ready to go – at least in my head I am.

Not Always Together – But Never Alone

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Certain days have a way of falling into a special place, kept as memories, that are treasured forever. Yesterday was one of those days – filled with laughter, fellowship, brotherhood and determination.

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A week or so ago, a ride was put together to Cassoday Kansas, a small town that hosts bikers the first Sunday of the month during the riding season. The ride, suggested by my dear friend Gary Meadows, was to invite some friends to ride along with him to meet up with Soldiers For Jesus, MC – Kansas City Chapter in Cassoday. Gary has been fighting the fight with cancer, and this was his way of showing cancer the true power of the love and support he has behind him.

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I’ve ridden with Gary before. DJ, a mutual friend of ours asked if he and Gary could ride to the rally with me a few years ago, and since I was going by myself, I welcomed it. That particular trip was thrown together in what seemed like a matter of days, and not knowing Gary on a personal level, it was clear to me he is someone who’s path I should have crossed many years before. His sense of humor and his sincerity is as genuine as his laughter. DJ, Gary and I had a great time and everything about the trip was effortless. We met up with Dennis Webb and Roger Larmer at the rally which only added to the experience. Thinking about this ride always brings a smile to my face and will go down as one of my best memories riding to Sturgis.

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So as Sunday morning rolled around and the weatherman predicting favorable conditions, we gathered with Gary and his wife Charlene and Gary’s nurse Dee, who came along to offer not only moral support but also to monitor his condition for the ride. In this group that gathered, I realized the wide range of lives that can be touched by such a good guy.

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If you’ve read anything I’ve written before, you would know I do some of my best thinking from the seat of my motorcycle. I knew when we pulled out of the parking lot I’d have about 100 miles or so to pull some thoughts together. Sometimes these thoughts can be a mixed bag of emotions, some are reflective, but today it was about being present. Both figuratively and literally present.

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Gary, I can only speak for myself but it was truly an honor to ride with you once again. It was inspiring to see the love and support of your fellow bikers, but also your family. I witnessed the emotions and the power of prayer in the parking lot of a Casey’s. I saw the fellowship with the SFJMC-Kansas City as they wrapped their arms around you. I felt the bond between us when we embraced, and the lump in my throat when we spoke. These things I will never forget. The lives you’ve touched goes beyond the mechanics of the motorcycle – your church family and your community are living proof of that. I know I’m a better man because this path I’m on crossed yours.

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We ride – because that’s what we do. Not always together, but never alone. 

20 O’Clock

Nobody said it was easy. I would go a little further and say sometimes it isn’t much fun. For the last few days as the weather has danced around from comfortable to cold, it’s been a hit or miss as to whether or not to ride. I know what you’re thinking; but Jeff, you always ride. Not always. I seem to be in this transition of psyching myself up to ride in freezing temps. Did I just say riding in freezing temps? Whoa.

I seem to be in this transition of psyching myself up to ride in freezing temps. Did I just say riding in freezing temps? Whoa.

This morning as I sat down to put my boots on, I hesitated whether or not to ride. With snow-showers in the forecast for the weekend and a snow storm brewing up next week, I thought today I might as well put my pull up big-boy pants and ride. After checking the temperature on my phone I pushed the bike out of the garage and fired it up. Now, I’ve mentioned before that I have my junior meteorologist credentials and with that I could feel it wasn’t 30 degrees out. I hadn’t ridden for a couple of days, so I felt like maybe I just wasn’t acclimated to what 30 felt like. It’s all in my head, remember?

Well, the ride in was no fun. The first 10 miles was doable but after that it was obvious I wasn’t prepared for, you guessed it, 20 degrees. I didn’t have my glasses on after pulling my helmet over my head so from where I sat it looked like it was 30 degrees on my Formotion thermometer. It looks like a clock, doesn’t it? Take your glasses off and look again. See it?

This is just the first of many cold rides to work. Like callused hands it takes time to work your way up to the hard stuff. I’ve heard jogging is like this too but I wouldn’t know. So if you pass me on the road while you’re driving to work with your heater on and your coffee cup beside you, don’t feel sorry for me. I choose to do this. Wow, saying it like that makes me sound a little crazy.

 

Drop It Like It’s Heavy

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Some days. I guess not every day can start out with birds singing, the sun shining and a rainbow over your shoulder. This morning as I pushed my 890 pound motorcycle out of the garage, I almost dropped it. In a mad, desperate attempt I actually prevented it from hitting the deck. Oddly enough, earlier this week at work I caught another bike I was moving around from falling over. This is hard on an old man like me. Dropping my keys and then bending over to pick them up is difficult enough, but stopping a heavy motorcycle pulled towards hell by the earth’s gravity is not something I want to do everyday.

Dropping my keys and then bending over to pick them up is difficult enough, but stopping a heavy motorcycle pulled towards hell by the earth’s gravity is not something I want to do everyday.

So as a true motorcyclist, I shook it off, climbed on board and headed off to work. About a mile out-of-town as I settled in for my ride I actually smiled at my cat-like reflexes and superhuman strength. I laughed out loud at my own humor and down the road I went. The next few miles were very pleasant as the weather this morning was comfortable and the sky cloudy. My thoughts wandered about the trip to Sturgis, whether or not I was going to get wet in either direction for my morning commute and how all the cattle bunched up in the corner of the field are all shaking their heads at me because it’s going to rain.

So about halfway to work I stop at the stop sign at Skiddy West RD and highway 77 to wait on a car. Listening to the radio I was somewhat distracted but not so much that I wouldn’t wait on a car to pass. As I pulled out onto the highway heading north, I shifted up through the gears and set the cruise control letting my mind wander some more.

 I had my listening hat on trying to diagnose the strange sounds coming from between my legs.

I don’t know what it is about the weeks before a big trip, but I tend to get a little paranoid with my bike making unusual sounds and acting weird knowing I have some miles to travel. Weird noises or a slight hesitation may not bother me otherwise, but this morning the motor was making way more noise than usual. for the next 7 miles, I had my listening hat on trying to diagnose the strange sounds coming from between my legs. Approaching the construction zone just south of I-70 I kicked off the cruise and started down-shifting to prevent an expensive speeding ticket. It was then I realized I just rode those last few miles at 70 miles an hour with the cruise set while in fourth gear. Yeah, it’s going to be a good day.

 

Ride 50 at 50 Part 4: Surrounded by Indians

 

248In what seemed like an eternity, I finally met the 3 Amigos David, Andrew and Adrian. Day one, I left Sunday morning to meet up with the trio at Blip Roasters in Kansas City Mo. A beautiful morning ride, I arrived a little early and met Ian Davis the owner of Blip. While having a hot cup of coffee, I engaged in conversation with a few like-minded folks about Blip Roasters and our dedication to these two-wheeled machines. Wonderful. Shortly thereafter and without much fanfare, the 3 Amigos rode in on their Indian Motorcycles and as we say in America – Welcome! After some handshaking and introductions, these three made themselves at home. A few pictures and some video were taken and we saddled up and headed west to Junction City. Just in time as the rain began to fall. Me on my Harley-Davidson surrounded by Indians.

 

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It’s interesting how a group of riders deal with the dynamics of riding and spending so much time together. These three have ridden roughly 1500 miles across the U.S. so far and they have it down. They’ve known each other almost a lifetime, so a lot can be said between them without saying word. Throw an American into the mix and it gives each of them an opportunity to take a mental break from the others. See? I’m doing good things for others all the time!

After we arrived in Junction City and after a nice dinner of burgers and beer, plans were made for day two. Originally, Dodge City Kansas was on the radar but when you’re this close to the World’s Largest Ball of Twine in Cawker City, you go see it. So day two we set off under cloudy skies with that sliver of blue on the horizon letting us know that the sun would be our friend for the day. After about 100 miles, we stopped in Beloit for a cup of coffee with the anticipation of twine right around the corner. We loaded up, turned on a couple of cameras mounted to me and my motorcycle and headed down the road. What a beautiful day, with clouds floating against the big blue sky.

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No one can be fully prepared for it. The quaint little town of Cawker City holds in its possession the envy of all twine connoisseurs, the epitome of dedication and the record for balls made of twine. I would hate to be the community with the World’s Second Largest Ball of Twine. It just doesn’t have the same ring to it. Don’t ever let anyone tell you that you can’t do something. Follow your dreams and whether its balls of twine or coming to America to ride motorcycles with your best friends, just do it. The people who call you crazy secretly want to do it as well.

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After a brief stop soaking in the ambiance of burlap we once again headed west on highway 24 through the rolling hills of green beneath a ceiling of blue. This stretch of road was perfect for me to think about how this all came about. You can read the previous blogs I’ve written about David, Andrew and Adrian and their journey to the U.S. But as I rode along with them, I realized that in some weird way this was going to happen. How random is this? Is it random at all? Sometimes we make things happen and sometimes it all happens for a reason. Maybe both? I believe so. Did I change some little bit of their trip by riding with them? How did we get on highway 24 when the trip is supposed to be highway 50? Yeah, that’s the stuff rolling around in my head while I have these three following me through north-central Kansas.

The rest of the ride to Hoxie was uneventful but satisfying for me. I hoped in some way these three new how great it was for me to spend a couple of days riding with them. We stopped in Hoxie for some beef jerky and a drink, and I knew it was all coming to an end. We were 20 miles north of Interstate 70 where our ride would go separate ways. We did a short bit of video, said some warm goodbyes and fired up the bikes for the final ride as the “Four Strokes” as we headed south.

That moment – that last three miles summed it up for me. We’re all alike no matter where we’re from and we had just ridden across the state of Kansas together. Our pilot in the crop duster has no idea that he’s responsible for the exclamation point on this trip for me.

One of the most memorable times for me was about 3 miles north of the interstate as a crop duster came up from the field it was spraying. David was passing me shooting a little video and I pointed up at it. As David saw it circling around for another pass, he raced ahead to catch it on video as well. Andrew, Adrian and I slowed, David was about a mile ahead and I knew that he was setting up to catch me for the last time riding by as we went our separate ways. That moment – that last three miles summed it up for me. We’re all alike no matter where we’re from and we had just ridden across the state of Kansas together. Our pilot in the crop duster has no idea that he’s responsible for the exclamation point on this trip for me.

By the time I turned east heading back to White City, the 3 Amigos were a mile from Oakley where they would call it a day. I still had a few hours to go but I didn’t mind. This is where I do my best thinking. I won’t bore you with my ride but I will say that there were storms brewing in front of me and I had a date with a rain suit.