December 2025

WHAT’S INSIDE

PRODUCT REVIEWS

Cover

opening

Kevin Wing - Backroads’ L.A.M.E

(ISSN 1087-2088) is published monthly by BACKROADS™, Inc. 2025. All rights reserved. BACKROADS™ may not be reproduced in any manner without specific written consent from the publisher. BACKROADS™ welcomes and encourages submissions (text and photos) and suggestions. Include phone number with submissions. BACKROADS™ will only return material with enclosed sufficient postage. The written articles and opinions printed in BACKROADS™ are not necessarily those of the publisher and should not be considered an endorsement. The Rip &Rides® published are ridden on the sole responsibility of the rider. BACKROADS™ is not responsible for the conditions of the public roadways traversed. Please respect the environment, read your owner’s manual and wear proper protective gear and helmet. Ride within your limits, not over them.

Groupie: Noun slang.

FREE WHEELIN

The Groupie

But your money for nothin’ and your chicks for free Well, them Groupie Girls ain’t what they’re cracked up to be Well not all of them anyway

There’ll Be Some Changes Made ar nop er het t ins

1. an ardent fan of a celebrity, especially a pop star: originally, often a girl who followed the members of a pop group on tour in order to have sexual relations with them. 2. an enthusiastic follower of some activity.

What do you ride? What do you wish you rode?

Over the years we all might get pigeon-holed into the thought that we only have one true love, and will ride one brand of motorcycle. It’s sad – but true. Motorcycles and cars (guitars too) are the same as pretty girls. They all look good and catch an eye (boys too, or girls again if that is what swings your helmet – I don’t give a hoot – it’s all good.)

We all have preferences, and over the years they sometimes morph from a strong like, to a preference to a poured in concrete & etched in stone.

I like to think I have kept myself in the middle.

I like adventure machines, and bikes that have an upright seating, wide bar stance – what some call standard.

Bikes like the Suzuki V-Strom, Shira’s Honda 919, and my BMW R 1250 GS all have somewhat similar seating positions. It works for me.

I have nothing against pure sports bikes – but, for me, a Ducati Panigale would be fun for about a 20-minute session – on a track; after that… I will need to stretch. Last season I got a superb chance to spend a good deal of time on Harley-Davidson’s Pan America CVO; riding back from South Dakota.

Wonderful journey – exemplary machine. What was not to like about this? I said as much in these pages. But, then the emails and text messages began to trickle in, and many of them did not follow our stringent Backroads’ DEI Guidelines – Drive Everything Intensely.

“Wow, getting rid of your BMW?”

“Did you have to get a H-D tattoo?”

“Ewww, you turn-coat, ya!”

Most of them were good-natured, but one or two even I would not throw at y’all – ‘cause they were…what’s the word…? Right, they were assholes. But that brings me back to Motorcycle Groupies.

I have two friends that are die-hard in their loyalty. Let’s call them Keene and John, so as not to pick on anybody in particular. Both these men – who are superior riders in my mind – are locked in on their preference.

Sure, they do own other marques and models. But, push come to shove, Keene is wearing Yamaha blue, and John, his Ducati red colors proudly!

Then there were the many, and I mean MANY, riders and once-riders that I spoke with while piloting the Pan America east.

The bright orange and black Harley-Davidson proudly said so on the tank – but many of the faithful (I did start in Sturgis) were not all that sure how to deal with this machine. To many, it was a curiosity, and most

queries were valid, and thoughtful, and most comments were spot-on as well.

But there were a few A/H barbs tossed my way too.

In addition to riding one of the brightest livery schemes on the road that day – I was also keenly aware that my Aerostich Roadcrafter suit was spot on to match. The combination of them made me toney – but I got noticed –for good or for bad.

Looking back, I certainly looked and played the part of the “Sycophant Groupie” on this trip – even if I was just trying to see everything of interest between the Rockies and the Maine coast.

I guess my point is you sail on whatever water floats your boat.

Last year, my good friend Carter came over, with his mom Heather and big sis Lilly, to light candles for the first ever 9th day of Hanukkah. Carter is all of 9 years old, and when he got a look at the stable of bikes in the barn he asked, “Which is your favorite.”

I told him honestly, “Whatever one I am riding Carter, whatever one I am riding”. And the best thing was each one of those machines was magical to him. ,

BRIAN RATHJEN

WHATCHATHINKIN’

ThaT Timeof Year

It has come. Halloween candy has been dispersed, costumes are packed away, the World Series has been decided (so sorry Toronto, you should have won), the heat has started popping on in the morning and evenings, the leaves, at least around Backroads Central, are almost all down so the gutters have been cleaned and driveway somewhat blown clear. But the timeliest (pun intended) is the turning back of the clocks.

It happened this year on the last game of the World Series, which went long, so we hardly noticed. What we did notice was that the next day was going to be a stunning day to ride. When the temperatures are in the mid-60s and the sky is crystal clear in the beginning of November, all should take advantage.

Texts were sent – who wanted to meet for lunch?

Where should we meet? What time? The answer came as Van Sant Airport at noon. Brian and I looked at each other and smiled. The friends we would be meeting make it a regular occurrence of meeting at Van Sant, as it is convenient and they have come to know the other riders who frequent the airport scene. It’s an easy ride for them. Our ride is a bit lengthier, albeit a beautiful one, so we put together something a little different from the straight run south on Route 519, piecing together some of the newer roads we have discovered.

horses who live across the road are already out of their barn, comfortably wearing their blankets to fend off the morning chill. I take their lead and set up my thermostat for my heated gear, knowing that by mid-afternoon it will have warmed up nicely and it won’t be needed.

Our ride to Van Sant is lovely, the muted and mottled foliage still coloring the hillsides, with the more than occasional red trees and bushes accenting the pallet. The nip in the air sneaks into my helmet, just enough to keep my nose a little tingly but very refreshing. Riding through Hope, NJ, we pass a group of Mazda Miatas, enjoying this wonderful day on the New Jersey backroads. A small buck on the side of the road is startled by the Hornet deer avoidance we have on the bikes and leaps back over the fence, darting away. Probably won’t be the last of those we’d see today.

Up at 7am, or was that 8, the sun was just peaking over the trees and shining in the bedroom window. With all the windows in our home, we can track the movement of the sunrise, and I know when winter is coming as I am hit with the morning light. Heading out to the bikes, hot coffee in hand, I see the

Van Sant is busy, as usual, on this brilliant Sunday. There are several motorcycles already parked, but more impressive is the gaggle of BMW Minis lining the roadway. Seems to be the day for the car clubs to be out and about. Planes are taking off and landing, with several glider rides going off as well. Our friends arrive, we spend some time catching up and checking out the happenings and then head to lunch. The Narrows in Upper Black Eddy, PA, fits the bill nicely, and we are seated by the slowly-dying embers of the warm fireplace.

Our ride home, another variation of our usual route, awards us with even more explosion of colors as the afternoon sun is at the perfect golden glow. The vibrant yellows of the hillside overwhelm me, and I think about the shortening of the daylight hours, relishing this day and hoping for more of the same before the inevitable winter of the north sets in.

We pull into the driveway, the setting sun sending its last rays across our backs. We let Spenser T. Cat out to soak up the final hour of warmth. I look to the west and thank the powers that be for this wonderful day spent with Brian and friends doing what we love so much.

Now is the time that we look forward, unlike the clocks which have gone back, and make our plans for the coming of Spring, with the return of the warmth of the sun, and the longer days to enjoy just as we have done today.

ON THE MARK

Cold

The October sun warmed the day sufficiently so that riding the middleweight roadster was still enjoyable, even without a windscreen. The waning sun on the vibrant fall colors painted beautiful vistas in every direction. Even the cars kept a respectful distance, as if the drivers were sympathetic to one of the few riders who was actually out that afternoon. For about the first hour, all was right with the world.

As the sun began to sink closer to the horizon, there were harbingers of things to come. As the temperature dipped, little annoyances began to creep into the fringes of the ride. I began to notice, for example, that what I thought was a well-sealed visor appeared to let little tendrils of cold air in, like a drafty old house. The gloves, though insulated, started to show signs of the same thing and my fingertips started to tingle ever so slightly.

Momentarily removing my hands from the unheated grips and flexing my fingers restored the circulation needed to exchange heat from my body and comfort returned.

My jacket and pants that proved to be oh-so-waterproof in the past, managed to start admitting the same little drafts as the faceshield, mainly at the neck and hem. The costly magic fabric so infallible in rain still managed to feel a little drafty in the cooling air, aided by the speed of the bike. As for the boots, so far, so good on the leather-shod magic membrane covering my feet, but that would change.

My route involved crossing some points of higher elevation on the way from West Virginia’s Central Highlands to my sea-level home and as I started to climb, the combination of the waning sunlight, the highway-speed wind, and the rise in elevation started to take their toll. The leaky shield went from simply noticeable to mildly annoying, occasionally drawing a tear from one eye or another, but they were easily blinked away. The drafts around the hem of the coat and zippers of the pants became appeared and disappeared like little gremlins.

The real problem was starting to form at the foremost of my parts – my hands. I soon came to understand the utility of heated grips, which my bike lacked (it was basic and I had yet to appreciate them…until now). I would remove one hand at a time, flexing my fingers and shaking my hands. I would clutch in momentarily to do the throttle hand so I wouldn’t lose my road speed.

At my present age, I would start looking for a roadside inn with a fire or at least a mom & pop motel with a wall-mounted heater, but in my late-30-year-old mind, I had “promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep,” so I soldiered on. To say this was a mistake is to put it lightly, for as the sun went down and the elevation went up, the tendrils of cold air that were merely an annoyance a couple hours ago started to become little icy knives that dug into me, primarily my fingers. There were more tears in my eyes, not from pain, but from the drafts that found their way around my visor. Little flecks were starting to appear in the beam of my light, flecks I suddenly realized were snowflakes. Then, the inexorable, creeping cold started to find my feet, taking advantage of the fact that the body starts to

shut down circulation to the extremities to keep the core warm. The boots weren’t drafty, but they weren’t warm either and my toes began to tingle. My hands began to require more frequent flexing and shaking and, in quiet desperation, I began to lean forward and lay them each in turn atop the protruding cylinders of the boxer engine.

Cold can take away your body heat, but a by-product is that it also takes away your concentration. Attention that was once directed at navigation, hazard avoidance, and station-keeping was replaced with thoughts of how to stay warm and simply wishing the ride was over. I stopped at a service station long enough to recoup some warmth, holding my gloves under the electric hand dryer and repeatedly pushing the button, but eventually I rationalized that I had to keep going lest the outside temperature drop even further.

Clearly, I survived to write this column some 25 years later; however, the little boxer soon grew a windshield and subsequent bikes had heated grips. I grew not only electrically-heated garments and gloves, but also a newfound wisdom that sometimes getting there the next day is a better idea than the risk of not getting there at all. The wind through the road cuts of I-68 in Garrett County is not something with which to trifle and you’d best respect it before the little, icy knives cut you 1,000 times. ,

AMERICAN MEN CLAIM LONG-AWAITED TRIALDES NATIONS CHAMPIONSHIPIN ITALY

Photo credit: Pep Segales

The United States enjoyed a successful weekend of competition at the 2025 Trial des Nations in Tolmezzo, Italy, claiming the team’s first International Trophy since 2005.

Led by the trio of Josh Roper, Alex Myers and Will Myers, the United States held off Japan and Germany by just four points on its way to its second International Trophy since the class was added in 1995.

“I couldn’t be prouder of the effort, dedication and sportsmanship shown by all of our riders this past weekend,” said USA Trial des Nations Team Manager Daniel Blanc-Gonnet. “Our results highlight the incredible talent we have representing the United States. We are eternally grateful for the support of our fans, families and sponsors all across the USA who make it all possible. See you next year in Arteixo, Spain.”

The Americans ended Japan’s two-year stretch of dominance over the International Trophy, utilizing a last day surge to finish the competition with just seven points, while the Japanese and Germans each tallied 11 points each.

“It’s been an amazing weekend,” Roper said. “We rode phenomenally all day and were able to cover for each other, even on sections we messed up, so that really helped our score.”

DUCATI HOLDSITS STANDARDS

Ducati has confirmed they will not enter the booming small-capacity market, despite rival brands capitalizing on affordable lightweight singles – insisting that chasing cheap volume bikes would go against everything the brand stands for.

Following suit doesn’t appear to interest the Bologna brand, however, Ducati Head of Product Communications, Giulio Fabbri, confirmed that the company had made a strategic decision “many years ago” not to build lowcost models, despite increasing pressure from rivals.

“Our pillars are style, sophistication and performance,” Fabbri said. “If you put these three together, and if you want to make a small bike, you are absolutely priced out of the market. So, this is the reason why you will never see a small Ducati.”

The communications boss emphasized that Ducati is taking a different approach to younger riders. Instead of cheap, low-capacity machines, the company is using lower-cc performance machines to draw fresh blood to the brand.

All Ducati badged models destined for European and US showrooms are currently screwed together in the brand’s home turf in Italy – and that’s unlikely to change going forward, ruling out cheaper foreign facilities.

KTMPARENT COMPANYTO CHANGENAMES?

Pierer Mobility AG - the parent company behind KTM, Husqvarna, and GASGAS – is set for a major identity shift as it prepares to change its name to Bajaj Mobility AG.

The company, which has long prided itself on its Austrian engineering and orange-blooded racing heritage, is on the brink of wearing an Indian badge. The announcement comes as part of preparations for an Extraordinary General. On the agenda: a formal vote to rename the company, subject to

regulatory approval under EU rules. The change will only go ahead if the full takeover of PMG by Bajaj isn’t blocked by regulators.

For context, Bajaj has been a major shareholder and strategic partner of the Pierer Mobility Group for years, helping KTM expand production and reach into new markets. But this move marks something much deeper — a complete shift in control and, perhaps more symbolically, identity. The Pierer era of PMG, it seems, is coming to an end; and with it possibly all racing activities as well. Will KTM disappear from MotoGP like Suzuki?

AMA HALLOF FAME DAYS

“AMA Hall of Fame Days is a grand celebration of all of the amazing individuals in the AMA Motorcycle Hall of Fame that have helped foster a thriving motorcycle community throughout the United States,” AMA President and CEO Rob Dingman said. “This week reminds us of how strong motorcyclists are when we work together and the strides that we have made as a community to promote the motorcycle lifestyle and protect the future of motorcycling.”

AMA Hall of Fame Days kicked off with the AMA Motorcycle Hall of Fame induction ceremony on

Thursday, October 23, during which six motorcyclists were welcomed into the Hall of Fame. This year’s Hall of Fame class included Dana Bell, Chris Carter, Colin Edwards, Joe Kopp, Chad Reed and Ryan Young.

The AMA Motorcycle Hall of Fame also paid tribute to the memories of the Hall of Famers who passed away over the past few years: Dave Barr, Malcolm Smith, Mary McGee, Mark Buckner, Richard Teerlink, John Penton, and Norm McDonald.

MOTO GPH-D BAGGERSAT EICMA 2025

Harley-Davidson has officially revealed new details of the highly anticipated Harley-Davidson Bagger World Cup during a press conference at EICMA 2025 in Milan. The brand revealed the series’ official logo, debuted a prototype race bike, and announced the first teams confirmed to

compete in the inaugural season. Kicking off in 2026, the series will run alongside six MotoGP™ Grands Prix, marking a significant evolution in the company’s racing legacy.

The Harley-Davidson Bagger World Cup will become the world’s first global racing series dedicated exclusively to high-performance Harley-Davidson baggers. Built on the brand’s Grand American Touring platform, these race-modified bikes will deliver incredible speed, agility, and on-track drama. They weigh approximately 280 kg (617 lbs), produce more than 200 horsepower, and will exceed 300 km/h (186 mph) on track, creating a visceral racing format distinct from anything currently on the MotoGP calendar. ,

GREAT ALL AMERICAN DINER RUN

hillbillY heaven bar & Grill

3280 marTinsburG road, berkeleY sprinGs, Wv 25411

304-258-0004 • hillbillYheaven Top

While on our romp south, during the Summer Solstice Rally, Pepe T. Monkey (yes, he’s back) had jogged us over the Potomac River, and then back east a bit on Route 9, called Martinsburg Road, from Berkeley Springs, West Virginia.

Interestingly enough, this part of the road runs through a smallish burg called Ridersville. How perfect is that?

Just a mile or two later, on the right side as Route 9 round a small bend, you will find this month’s stop on the Great All-American Diner Run - Hillbilly Heaven Bar & Grill.

Many of us had gotten on the road semi-early, many forgoing a bite to eat in Shippensburg, and the Monkey had marked this as a recommended stop for lunch, and just after the Hillbilly Heaven opened, riders began to roll up, and take tables.

The restaurant looks like a Biker Bar- and we can say that, as we were bikers (well, riders at least) –but we feel this place might be much more. Wherever did it say a place could not be cool, comfortable, and have a great vibe – and also be one of the region’s top restaurants?

We think Hillbilly Heaven Bar & Grill is just that.

The bartender, who was really just setting up for the day, had to go into overdrive early – yet she did so with a smile and attitude that made everyone feel welcome, even just before noon.

A little bit of history on the Hillbilly Heaven…

Founded in 2010 by Hillbilly Heaven Bar & Grill, they would like you to know their place is about exceptional food and warm hospitality, as well as every dish telling a story, and every visit feels like home. We must admit that after the staff realized they had a gaggle of early afternoon lunch to serve, they got going, with a smile.

It is a fairly big place, and the bar dominated one side, and a wide dining room filling the rest of the building. A pool table sat waiting for those who wanted to play 8-Ball while they waited. Which was not long considering how we surprised them this early Friday afternoon.

While we were there, a few locals, and some other bunches of our rally-goers saw the other bikes and followed their tummy’s growling in for lunch. We ended up with a fairly decent crowd before we left, and we heard more came in after as well.

That’s us – keeping the economy of the Appalachians running!

We would think that the Hillbilly Heaven must really rock later in the day, and we have heard that dinner here is special indeed.

Smoked Tri-Tip, or Baby Back Ribs, looked amazing, but their description of the Grilled Garlic Sirloin Skewers, which use an entire head of garlic to marinate before hitting the grill, is every garlic-lover’s dreams.

But we would stick with the more lunchy side of things, with burgers, club sandwiches and soups and salads filling the tables.

Almost all the produce and ingredients were locally sourced, and the folks in the kitchen truly knew how things should be done.

My Club was more than a Club – it was a whole organization. Shira went basic with a Grilled Cheese Sandwich and a delish homemade Tomato Soup – she could barely finish this. The Reuben seemed to have been created on the Lower East Side of Manhattan – it looked that good. Our buddy Rob had their Bacon Cheeseburger. OMG…Rob is one great rider and can pen some great articles. He can handle things, but this humongous burger almost beat him. Almost!

If you are traveling through this part of the Mountain State on other days of the week, know each day will have something going on at the Hillbilly Heaven -Taco Tuesday, Wing Wednesday.

Another thing… while researching this GAADR (Yes, we do research -Jeesh), it was apparent that Hillbilly Heaven loves its people, and community. The list of events, toy drives, and generally trying to help others is so apparent – and knowing this will only make our return to Berkeley Springs that much more delicious.

But how will we get there? Mr. Happy has jumped in to fix Pepe’s mistake, and give us a ride from Shippensburg, Pennsylvania to Hillbilly Heaven that we promise - he promises – will be awesome, and paved – but as fun as can be. Ask yourself, will you trust a little yellow puppet to make your route? See ya on the road. ,

Download .gpx here: www.sendspace.com/pro/dl/jttb1s

Warren County Tourism presents BIG CITY GETAWAY

The hisTorYof fliGhTon displaY empire sTaTe aerosCienCes museum 250 rudY Chase dr, Glenville, nY 12302 518-377-2191 • www.esam.org

Longtime Backroads friend Steve Sachar is a docent at the Cradle of Aviation Museum in Garden City, New York. He has an affinity for air museums and, during the recent Backroads Fall Fiesta, suggested visiting the Empire State Aerosciences Museum in Glenville, New York. Being a fan of air museums myself, and having no predefined plans, I took him up on the offer and I was amazed at the array of airplanes they had on exhibit.

The Empire State Aerosciences Museum (ESAM) is easy to find on Route 50 because there’s a British Airways Concorde on display out in front. OK, it’s not one of the actual Super-Sonic planes that whisked folks from London to New York is 3 ½ hours. This one is a 102-foot-long half scale model, weighing 34,000 pounds that was on display in Times Square until 2001. It was then stored at the Cradle of Aviation Museum until 2017 when it was moved to ESAM. It was still a major undertaking to get it reassembled and mounted for display.

The Concorde was just a sample of what was inside. I parked next to Steve’s Spyder and got a personal tour from him. The hangar was chock full of aircraft and I must admit, my mind quickly became overloaded with all the aircraft. A few that stood out:

A working full-sized model of a pre-1910 plane that you could sit in and

work the controls. Turn the wheel and the flaps on the wings move. Push the wheel forward and the front mounted flap moves – pretty cool.

A Link Trainer developed by Edwin Link for teaching student pilots how to fly using Instrument Flight Rules. During World War II, nearly a half a million airmen were trained on a Link Trainer. This particular one has been completely rebuilt and is fully functional.

A Harrier jump jet that can take off and land almost vertically due to its vectored thrust engine.

An F-14 Tomcat with its variable swept wings.

A10 Thunderbolt II (AKA warthog) designed for low and slow ground support.

McDonnell-Douglas F-4 Phantom – it was capable of Mach-2 in 1959.

A Grumman A-6E Intruder with folding wings that served on board the aircraft carriers USS America, Nimitz, Saratoga, and Forrestal.

There was also an UH-1 Iroquois helicopter (AKA Huey) similar to the one Steve flew in Viet Nam. He told me a story of having a broken mess hall cooler and, faced with the possibility of warm beer for everyone, he loaded up the Huey with beer, climbed to 10,000 feet and hovered, letting the cold air chill the beer, much to the delight of the parched troops. All was good until a rather large fuel discrepancy was uncovered – no good deed goes unpunished. Steve has other stories too but those are for another time.

A few movie planes were on display too. In the original Top Gun movie, Goose and Maverick conduct a dogfight with a couple of MiG-28 airplanes. Black Northrup F-5E Tigers played the part of the fictional MiG-28 and one of those planes is on display here.

There is also a fuselage of a Lockheed 10 airplane that was used in the movie The Final Flight, starring Diane Keaton, which chronicled the last flight of Amelia Earhart.

In the second building is another movie model, only this time it’s the Japanese aircraft carrier Akagi. This was the flagship of the Japanese fleet that attacked Pearl Harbor. This model is 32 feet long and was built for the movie Tora! Tora! Tora! The attention to detail is amazing. The rest of the building showcases exhibits of space exploration.

A Convair F-102A Delta Dagger, the first American fighter to feature a delta wing. It had a top speed of 825 mph in 1956, just 11 years after Chuck Yeager first broke the sound barrier.

There were three MiG fighters on display: a MiG-15, with production beginning in 1949, a MiG-17 from the 1950s and a MiG21 from the 1960s.

From here we headed out to the apron where even more planes awaited: A Lockheed C-130 Hercules transport plane. This one was equipped with skis for landing on snow, specifically designed for landing in Antarctica.

While we were there a huge oversized tractor trailer arrived with the fuselage of a C-130 on it, part of a new exhibit. The museum began with just a few planes in 1984 and has been continually expanding. It outgrew its first home in a building farther down beside the runway. In 1993, they hosted an airshow at the airport and the funding brought in by that kickstarted the expansion. The main hangar at the museum originally housed General Electric’s Flight Test Center where they built and tested leading edge jet engines from 1946 to 1964. Today, ESAM is rapidly outgrowing this building and looks to display even more planes in the future.

If your riding takes you through the Capitol Region of New York, take a couple hours and visit the Empire State Aerosciences Museum. It’s hard to miss the half scale Super-Sonic Concorde out in front and it’s only three hours from New York City. Eight minutes by Concorde.

~ Dan Bisbee

dinosinThe deserT • sCulpTuresof riCardo breCeda

4450 hiGhWaY 79 s., aGuanGa, Ca 92536

951-236-5896 • ricardoabreceda.com

I was heading north through the Peninsular Range, just northeast of the famed telescope atop Palomar, home of Palomar Observatory and the Hale Telescope; the 200-inch telescope was the world’s largest and most important telescope for almost half a century.

The pavement around this region can be a rider’s delight, and after spending a morning buzzing up, down, and around the telescope on the Grade Roads, I aimed northwest along Route 79. Just a touch past the confluence of Route 371, I spied a most remarkable thing …horses. Horses jumping across the cask where California blew a gap in the hills to lay the road. These horses, caught in mid-flight, sailing over the cars and bikes rolling along the Aguanga Valley, cause brake lights for all but the locals who are used to their striking beauty. For sure, they slowed me down.

But they were not real ponies. No… these horses were foaled from human imagination, and just down the road I came upon hundreds more of similarly crafted metal statues – of all sorts of creatures, both real and imaginary.

I had stumbled upon the collection of sculptor Ricardo Breceda.

AMERICA

Dubbed the “Accidental Artist” by author Diana Lindsay, Breceda did not start out to be one of the world’s greatest metal sculptors, and it was a Christmas wish from his daughter Lianna, who, at age six and after watching one of the Jurassic Park movies, wanted what every child wants… a dinosaur. Back then, her dad Ricardo was a cowboy boot salesman - but when his little girl requested a dino for under the Christmas tree, he picked up some welding equipment and began to create his first of hundreds of sculptures. It took a few weeks, but Lianna got her dinosaur, a twenty-foot-tall Tyrannosaurus Rex. What started as a hobby quickly became a passion to transform metal into incredible life-like creations.

Word of Breceda’s creations began to spread, and soon his sculptures began to pop up in different parts of the surrounding county. He had transformed from a cowboy boot salesman to a budding artist.

Things really blossomed when he met Dennis Avery, who was the heir to Avery Dennison label makers. Avery owned Galleta Meadows Estates in

Borrego Springs and envisioned turning his land into a giant free-standing art gallery. He commissioned Breceda to create over 130 pieces to dot the landscape of the estate. Ricardo and his amazing talent had arrived.

Now, years later, Breceda’s works can be found all around Southern California and beyond.

Today, thousands of people from around the world have come to see Ricardo’s work, finding out firsthand just how much bigger and amazing it truly is. But his menagerie is not just limited to prehistoric animals, as the artist was inspired by the region and culture. You will find the Old West with a full stagecoach, cowboys, and Native Americans.

Some artists prefer to work in private, as if to hide their skill and craft away from mere humans. Not so here in the Aguanga valley. Here, all are welcome, and for a small donation, you can stroll through Breceda’s works, and you probably will see Ricardo and his assistant throwing sparks and bright welding arcs as they are constantly dreaming up and constructing new sculptures.

The property is awash with creatures and works big and small. A Sabertooth tiger in attack, giraffes, a mariachi band, titanic guitars, and monstrous, striking cobras spring from the desert floor. There is even a sculpture of the planet Earth battling the covid virus.

Strolling the grounds and the hills in this part of the desert is almost overwhelming.

Throughout his studio, you can purchase everything from small sculptures of motorcycles, insects, plants, and suns to his larger works, which can be a bit heady for the average checkbook, but with that small donation you made upon entering, you can take a small sculpture home with you. I grabbed a Hummingbird for Shira. (Hey, she is the boss, and I know who really butters my bread) It seems that Breceda can create just about anything you can imagine, and he will happily create a custom metal sculpture for you – just a photo or sketch, and this phenomenal artist goes to it.

If you are traveling in this part of California, seek out the works of Breceda, and you will agree that he and his creations are a wonderful part of this Mysterious America. O’Life Out! ,

Wytheville VA Tourism presents

WE’RE OUTTA HERE

lhoTel

62 sainT JaCques sTreeT WesT old monTreal (quebeC), h2Y 1n1 Canada 514-985-0019 • www.lhotelmontreal.com

In the late winter last, knowing we’d be heading north for the Montreal stop of MotoCanada’s International Motorcycle Show, we looked for a place to call home while visiting this historic and beautiful Canadian city. We had been in Montreal a number of years back, and after a bit of searching Shira came across the LHotel, located in the historic part of the citysimply called Old Montreal.

This Historic Art Hotel is located in a stately five-story building on Saint Jacques Street West, it was just a short stroll to the motorcycle show and some of the more beautiful sites in this old French-Canadian town.

In fact, this part of Montreal was once considered the heart and soul of Canada, and Saint-Jacques Street, also known as St. James Street for historical reasons, was once dubbed the Canadian Wall Street.

Notre-Dame Basilica, which was built in 1829, is one of the finest examples of the Gothic Revival style – and is simply stunning on every level. Countless museums, monuments, art galleries, cafes, and shops are all within walking distance of LHotel Montreal.Perfect!

a weekend destination keeping you on the backroads

Built in 1870, and designed by Michel Laurent, the building originally served as the head office of the Montreal City and District Savings Bank, while other tenants included the first bank note company in Canada (British American Bank Note Company) as well as some of the city’s first telephone exchanges - the Canadian Telegraph Company and the Bell Telephone Company of Canada.

In 1945, the bank began renting office space and attracted many law firms, including that of Jean Drapeau, who would go on to become Montreal’s best-known mayor. During his tenure of three decades, he was responsible for building the Metro system and Place des Arts (where the MotoCanada Motorcycle Show was being held), as well as bringing the 1967 World Exposition and 1976 Olympic Games to Montreal. But for us, Jean Drapeau will always be known as the man who brought about the Montreal Expos in 1969. God bless Gary Carter.

Today, after a series of beautiful refurbishments, one of the city’s most historic landmarks is one of the most modern and unique boutique hotels, with 59 contemporary, eclectic rooms and suites overlooking the streets of Old Montreal.

We have to say we were taken by the look of the LHotel from the moment we walked in. The art was everywhere, and once settled into our very spacious old-style room, we walked each of the four open levels taking in the art – some of which were originals by artists that had Shira’s head exploding, and me pointing out that two pieces of art had Marvel Comic pieces to them. We two have very different priorities. Robert Motherwell might well be one of the fathers of Abstract Art, but Matt Murdock was Daredevil, and the Fantastic Four are, well, fantastic! Other artists could be found as well.

The room was very nice, with a huge and comfortable bed that seemed to stretch from Nova Scotia to British Colombia, a super shower, and warm coziness that did a great job of letting you both be part of the popular historic and busy section of the city and away from it at the same time.

In the morning there were a variety of croissants and really delicious coffee to be had at one of the tables found along the gallery.

This was the first time I really took a deep look at the artwork to be found sprinkled around the lobby. But as nice as all the “art” was; it was something else that grabbed my attention. Remember that priority thing I mentioned?

As I took in what I was seeing, Shira nodded and agreed that was really very nice, but it was time for my head to explode. Mounted high (very high, and sealed (very sealed) was a Fender Telecaster – autographed by Eric Clapton, Angus Young, Steve Vai, Eddie Van Halen, and Jeff Beck! Boom!

The LHotel is a wonderful place to park yourself, and your bike (there are a number of secure and reasonable parking garages to be found), for a few days and take in all this wonderful city has to offer. But, be mindful - I read one sign that said over 140 languages are spoken in Montreal.

I bet – as long as it’s French.

Roulez souvent. Roulez intelligemment. Parcourez les routes secondaires. ,

This past summer we made a short trip up to the Finger Lakes region, specifically Watkins Glen. While the Finger Lakes may not offer the most technical of riding, it is always relaxing and pleasant to meander around the different lakes and explore the various vineyards and emerging breweries and distilleries. However, my sights were set on a different kind of tasting, that of the frozen custard at the Spotted Duck.

Frozen custard, you say? And what, pray tell, is the difference between ice cream and frozen custard? While all frozen custard is ice cream, not all ice cream is custard. The difference being custard has a higher content of milk fat (yum), includes egg yolk in the recipe which introduces protein, and has less incorporated air, also known as overrun in ice cream/frozen dessert lingo, making it a denser, creamier texture. In my years of making ice cream, I have found that different recipes work better with custard than ice cream and vice versa. But the custards I have made have always had a much creamier texture and superior mouth-feel.

Spotted Duck Creamery, now just Spotted Duck, began its life in 2016 with Elizabeth and Daniel Hoover. They had been making ice cream in their small grocery store in Penn Yan, then bought the farm on which live their Ancona ducks who produce the spotted duck eggs used in their frozen custard creations. Elizabeth found that duck eggs, specifically the yolks, bring something special to the mixture instead of chicken eggs. While some might be taken aback by the use of duck eggs, more are intrigued and find that Spotted Duck frozen custard might just be the best ‘ice cream’ they’ve ever tasted.

When the Hoovers were ready to sell Spotted Duck, Sam Solomon, who had a very good working relationship with them, took it over. Spotted Duck had an amazing following, with the parking lot always full as folks enjoyed their custard while sitting in the field and watching the ducks and resident peacock, Alejandro, strut his stuff. The initiation of the flight of custard made it even easier and more fulfilling for a tasting, as flights of four or eight flavors let you sample and then decide on the bigger scoop.

Everything was running just fine; the Super Scoopers were scooper busy, parking lot full, folks enjoying their custard in the sun and then – BOOM –in 2023 Spotted Duck was visited by Cohen Thompson, super TikTok influencer, and the lines grew to hours wait, exploding on social media sites and bringing Spotted Duck’s already delicious custard to the forefront, winning it the award for best ice cream in the nation (okay, I know it’s custard, but that’s what the award said). As Sam – Chief Duck Officer – said, “If Riesling is the representation of the Finger Lakes in a bottle of wine, then Spotted Duck custard is a representation of the Finger Lakes in a scoop.’

Each day, batches of custard are made from scratch using the freshest ingredients sourced from the greater Finger Lakes region – milk from local cows and fruits grown on-site or neighboring farms. If you visit first thing in the morning, you’ll smell the freshly baked cookies and hand-rolled cones. Eggs are collected from the resident Ancona and Khaki Campbell ducks; did you know that ducks do not lay their eggs every day like chickens, but only produce 3-5 eggs a week.

And the flavors that come out of the ice cream kitchen are truly phenomenal. There are the always present such as Wicked Chocolate, Vanilla Crème, Candied Coconut, Real Cookies ‘n’ Cream and Java Junction. Then there are the multitude of seasonal varieties that depend on what’s growing around them – Blueberry Streusel, Pumpkin Spiced Pecan, Lemon Basil, Sweet Corn and Peach Cobbler to name a VERY few.

Of course Brian and I both went for the flight, with four different flavors each to share; Brian going for the dark flavors and me for the lighter summer fare. It was such a beautiful July day and we were in absolutely no rush. All were delicious and more than enough to satisfy our sweet tooth cravings.

During the season there are pop-up visiting food trucks and other events which you can check on their Facebook page. If you would like an up close and personal visit, there is a three bedroom/one bath guest house on-site available through AirBnB. How wonderful! Ice cream for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Enjoy your visit to the Finger Lakes and give Alejandro the Peacock my regards. ,

The roads leading north, from the Barber Museum and the 20th Annual Vintage Festival, opened up quickly once away from the “Magic City” of Birmingham.

This journey had begun four days before, with the U.S. media launch of the new BMW R 1300 RT. With 145 horsepower, a sorcery-styled suspension system, advanced electronics, and shift-assist, BMW Motorrad is hoping to take long-distance riding to the next level, and rather than just get to ride the bike for a day, I’d get to spend 8 full days riding it from the deep south to home in New Jersey.

The first few days brought a small gaggle of journalists from Greenville, South Carolina, through the backroads of northern Georgia to Dalton, and a heady run into Alabama and the Barber Motorsports Park, and the Vintage Festival. The museum and events were, as always, simply amazing. The festival hosted BMW Motorrad Days, the Isle of Triumph, acres of swap-meet vendors, and very cool vintage racing. Have you not been to George Barber’s incredible Guinness World Record collection of 1,700 motorcycles and exotic automobiles? Well, get your bucket list and pencil out.

North of Birmingham I rode through the town of Gadsden. Here was a most unique monument, a giant spi ral obelisk, dedicated to those who were born, or became Citizens of the United States, and the beauty and honor of so doing.

It is lit at night and must be impressive indeed. Unexpected and most timely to find these days.

Some of my route doubled back the way I had come down a few days before. My route was made weeks before, and getting to ride the Little River Canyon twice in a few days was a huge plus, and had me thinking that semi-brilliant minds do think alike sometimes.

Route 176, which runs atop the Little River Canyon, is an amazing and serious road,

not to be ridden lightly. I toggled the BMW into its Dynamic mode, which puts BMW’s new Dynamic Ride Adjustment (the sorcery of which I spoke) into play, allowing a bit of “shape-shifting.” The formidable longrange missile’s steering becomes sharper, and its handling more precise. It makes a road like this so much fun, and it is well worth the effort, as the views from atop the canyon are breathtaking. You do have to watch for rock, though. I don’t mean scattered across the road – but literally in the middle of the road. Mushroom Rock. I knew it was there, but it still startles me each time I have to get around it.

The story is that several decades ago, a road crew constructing the original scenic drive is credited with saving this canyon landmark. Plans called for the rock formation we now call Mushroom Rock to be removed. Construction staff refused to blast it away. The crew built the road around it instead. Thanks to the determination of the crew to leave the formation intact, we now have Mushroom Rock in the national preserve.

I tripped back into Georgia for a bit, running along those roads for which this part of the state is known before sliding north into Tennessee and around the edge of Chattanooga. Just east of the town, I had the great pleasure of overnighting with my friend Rob Mitchell. Rob was the press maven for BMW when we first started Backroads, and gave this magazine its first real press invite, and getting to hang with Rob (and Gabby the Snickerdoodle), catching up, and watching the Indonesian MotoGP was most excellent.

Thank you, Robbo!

They prosecuted some poor sucker in these United States

For teaching that man descended from the apes

They coulda settled that case without a fuss or fight

If they’d seen me chasin’ you, sugar, through the jungle last night Part Man, Part Monkey - Bruce Springsteen

The next day, after some manly hugs and a few scratches behind the ear (Gabby, not Rob), I headed back west, stopping for a moment at the courthouse in Dayton. It was here in 1925 that science and religion had a huge row

when high school teacher John Scopes was put on trial for teaching that man evolved from the apes. This was illegal in Tennessee at the time, and the Scopes Monkey trial was and is legendary with heavy hitters of the day like William Jennings Bryant standing for the prosecution and the state, and Clarence Darrow speaking for the defense. The trial made international headlines, and films have been made of it. Even Springsteen sang about it.

I continued a northern run, up and over the first bit of mountains and then along the plateau on roads that slid back and forth under a tight canopy of trees – oak, maple, and poplar - and through towns with names like Bone Cave, and Rock Island.

There would be a bit of time-traveling this day, as the day before I had run from Central Time back to Eastern, but this day, I would gain an hour, only to lose it later in the afternoon. I let the Garmin tell me into what time zone I was riding.

Outside of Gainesboro, I spotted a pair of large square caves, probably quarried limestone, but a little iPhone research had revealed to me something far older and deeper, and had me and the BMW doubling back a few miles and then up a small road to one of the most amazing finds. Some 360 million years ago, a meteorite slammed into this part of the Appalachians at 36,000 mph, causing massive upheaval and displacing an incredible amount of debris skyward. It was a great discovery of O’Life stature, and the Flynn Creek Impact Crater will most certainly be followed up by the good doctor. Corvette City

Not long after, I crossed into Kentucky and motored along some tinier roads that rose and fell through the limestone sheltered hills to the city of Bowling Green, and the National Corvette Museum.

Few cars have grabbed the hearts of American motorheads as the Chevrolet Corvette. Since 1953, the ‘Vette has broken records, swooned hearts, and lit the fires of drivers’ imagination with a uniquely American combination of speed, power, art, and sex appeal. Who doesn’t want to have a Corvette? You…You don’t? You lyin’ bastard.

I spent a few hours there and ended up having to pull the wallet out for a new Corvette. A Hot Wheels. But, a Corvette. For now, I will drive my friend Joe’s!

So far on this trip, the RT and I had done well weather-wise, but we all know that could never last, and the spritzing I ran into heading into Kentucky had now become a steadier pour. Nothing ride-altering, but there just the same.

The RT has some great weather protection, and the side deflection panels, when raised, did a superb job of keeping me in a semi-clear environment. That evening, I pulled into Bardstown, Kentucky, and took a room just down the road from the Old Talbot Inn.

This place, in addition to being the oldest bourbon bar in the nation, also has a tantalizing history.

and others. The precise goals of the Burr Conspiracy remain unclear and are widely debated by historians, but most believe Burr intended to seize parts of Mexico and the newly acquired Louisiana Purchase to form a new, independent country. Burr was indicted for treason, which involved allegedly raising a military expedition against Mexico and preparing to levy war against the United States.

This night I conspired to conquer the Talbot’s house cobbler, ice cream, and a taste of Basil Hayden smoked bourbon.

Bluegra Parkways and Mountain State Byways

It was at this inn where Aaron Burr met with conspirators to overthrow Mexico. Yes, former Vice President Aaron Burr was accused of plotting to conquer Mexico and establish an independent nation in the Southwest. The scheme, known as the Burr Conspiracy, included operations in Kentucky and the Mississippi Territory around 1806, with the Old Talbott Inn in Bardstown, Kentucky, playing a historic role as a central meeting point for conspirators Burr, General James Wilkinson,

The weather that had begun more pestering the previous evening became a serious bother by the next morning. It would pour heavy and steady, then seem to lighten, only to have the hard rain come barrelin’ in again. Undaunted, I chose to gear up and head out, as Shira has told me many times, we are not made of sugar. Heading east, I once again raised the side panels and shield on the RT, and motored on, more or less eastward. Still, it seemed my route would bring me into the middle of the bright yellows and reds on the radar, a rain so strong that no shield or waterproof gear could beat; and by noon, with no let up to be seen, I made an adult decision (I know, right?), and called it a very early day, grabbed a room at a roadside motel, and settled in for an afternoon with a good book, my computer, and Moto 2 and 3! Making lemonade, kids, making lemonade. I had four separate ideas for routing home, but in the end, I went for the twisties and a long 800-plus-mile romp back to Jersey. I would find a room, wherever I ended up, or wherever the redhead told me I should end up. Like Annie promised, the sun did come out tomorrow, and I followed along some of Kentucky’s finest divided highways and two-lane roads that ran up and around the Cumberland Mountains and rode through huge cuts made

into the limestone hills. The same limestone that makes the bourbon so magical here.

It was a fantastic morning, even with some black clouds still floating around, I had the sun in the east, and the full Harvest moon still to be seen in the west – a rare occurrence indeed.

As I headed further east, towards West Virginia, the roads mimicked the railroad, which flowed with the streams. I race along with a CSX diesel coal train, getting ahead to take an image, the engineer giving a blast on the horn and a wave as they quickly rolled by.

I crossed the Big Sandy River at Fort Gay and then rode around Charleston seeking out Route 119 to head north. If you have never been on this road, you are in for a treat, as 119 is a serious ride.

I passed through the hamlet of Spencer –spelled wrong, but a nice little town regardless - and home of the 1948 Comic Book Burning and State Walnut Festival. I can see them doing a festival here, as walnuts were falling all through the region; little round balls of traction-eating angst rolling in front of me in every turn.

Route 119 runs into, and with, Route 33 east for a long way, and I now felt like I was almost home, as 33 gets more copy in Backroads than bottles of Rolling Rock.

By late afternoon, I paid a little hello to one of Seymour’s favorite haunts – the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum. The asylum was constructed between 1858 and 1881 and remains the largest hand-cut stone masonry building in North America. Some sources claim it is the second largest of its kind in the world, behind only the Kremlin. Designed by architect Richard Andrews, the asylum was based on the Kirkbride Plan, a 19th-century model for mental health facilities that emphasized fresh air, natural light, and the therapeutic power of environment. The hospital opened to patients in 1864, but as years passed and funding models changed, the patient population ballooned. By the 1950s, the asylum held more than 2,400 people in overcrowded, often inhumane conditions. The facility finally closed in 1994 after years of decline and shifting attitudes toward mental health treatment. Its closure had a significant economic impact on the local community, and the effects of that loss are still felt today. Now it is featured on paranormal television shows and holds ghost tours. Stately, but sad. I had done about half of my 800+ mile route back home, so a room was found and booked by Shiraka Tours and Travel, and I called it a night after a very, very moto-funtastic day!

West “By God” Virginia and the Roads Home

The sun seemed to still be just an idea at 7 am when I walked out of the Holiday Inn, with just an ever-creeping light to the east and, once again, the moon to the west. What was new, after a long and very hot summer, was the billow of breath floating in front of me, as the night before it had dropped temperatures, and a sheen of ice had formed on the bike’s saddle from the last evening’s dew. Thankfully, the heated seat of the R 1300 RT made short work of that, and I had come prepared, heated gear stowed for such an occasion. The mountains to the east and west were shrouded in a deep fog and mist, and heading east, towards the rising sun, became almost problematic, and I had to use the four-way lights on the R 1300 RT, as I rode through the low and dense cloud banks, so as to let drivers know I was there too. Still, there was little traffic east of Weston, and as the early morning passed, the brightening sun vanquished the veil of mist, and I motored quickly through the backroads of West Virginia, the R 1300 RT proving itself a formidable ride through the Mountain State’s backroads.

Heading down one mountain, near the town of Parsons, I caught a most wondrous whiff, and the next turn revealed the Kingsford Charcoal Briquettes factory. Yes, the same charcoal we have all been using all our lives. Hey, they have to come from somewhere.

But the history here is at least interesting. It all started in 1919 when Edward G. Kingsford helped Henry Ford procure a stretch of timberland to supply wood for his auto plants. Mr. Ford wondered if all the wood waste generated by his sawmill and plants could be put to better use, and found his answer in a new pro-

cess for pressing blocks of reconstituted char. While the innovative charcoal briquette was initially marketed under Ford’s own brand, it was eventually renamed Kingsford Charcoal in Edward’s honor. They are still America’s #1 charcoal brand – coming to you from the great riding hills of West Virginia.

My route brought me into the town of Romney, and a visit to their local cemetery. The Indian Mound Cemetery is located on a promontory of the ‘Yellow Banks’ overlooking the South Branch Potomac River just off of Mill Creek Mountain. It is hard to miss the huge wrought iron gate. The cemetery is centered on a Hopewellian mound, known as the Romney Indian Mound.

This is a small mound in comparison to some I have seen, but it is the oldest in West Virginia, and is perhaps the only accessible mound east of the Allegheny Mountains that has been untouched and preserved. Having a cemetery here seems fitting, and not just your run-of-the-mill graveyard either, for here is the burial site of two governors of West Virginia, a United States House Representative, a United States Secretary of the Army, an owner of the Washington Redskins, and descendants of the family of George Washington. Along with the mound is the Parsons Bell Tower, adding to the stately feel of this burial ground. I

paid my respects and motored east.

The rest of the day brought me east, through Berkeley Springs, and then north across the Potomac and into Maryland, and then quickly into Pennsylvania – more familiar roads, and I grabbed the Interstate, allowing the BMW R 1300 RT to show its big road chops, as it easily brought me up and across this part of PA and into New Jersey and home as the sun, that had greeted me 10 hours earlier in West Virginia, disappeared over the forest and field to the west of Backroads Central.

It was a full week and a bit on the road, but I was happy to be home and to have BMW’s newest flagship staying around the barn for a bit.

Great ride, good friends, superb history, and more than a bit of serious backroads riding – exactly the purpose for which BMW built this machine.

TEREN LIGHTWEIGHT TRAVELER PANTS

Finding pants that work well while riding, and off the bike, can limit you. Denim takes up room, and are hard to keep clean on longer trips, and off the rack cargo pants don’t quite muster either. We recently came across the Teren company, from Chattanooga, Tennessee. Teren offers a wide selection of travel gear and their Lightweight Traveler Pants are extremely packable, seem almost impervious to water (very quick to dry) and

muck, and have a different, breathable, and unique feel to them. The 4-way stretch offer all day comfort on the bike, and the hidden and zippered pockets protect your valuables when off and exploring.

There is a hidden drawstring to ensure a good waist fit, as well as a magnetic buckle, and the anti-microbial material allows you to go far further down the backroads with the Traveler Pants, than conventional pants – they look great too. A couple pairs of the Teren Light weight Traveler Pants and you are ready for a few months on the road.

Teren Lightweight Traveler Pants come in five different colors, and the usual waist and inseam sizes.

$129 from terendesigns.com

MOTION PRO FILL AIR CHUCKAND PROFESSIONAL TIRE PRESSURE GAUGE

2.5” 0-60 PSG

The wifey and I have a few bikes between us, and each of them seems to have their own thoughts on the best way to keep their tires at optimal pressure.

The BMW R1250GS has a valve that comes out at a 90° angle. The Z900 has valves that seem to be hidden by Kawasaki along the center of those beautifully laced mag wheels. The V-Strom has its tire valves hidden between two aluminum ridges – and getting to it is much like Luke Skywalker shooting for the power station on the Death Star.

They are all different, and for years I have had a row of different air chucks for each one.

It is easy enough to change a chuck, but those days may be in the mirrors,

as we just got the Pro Fill Air Chuck from the folks at Motion Pro. Motion Pro has long been known for its line of cables, accessories, and they have a surfeit of specialized tools to make your motorcycle life a happy and fulfilled one.

We had seen some images of the Motion Pro Pro Fill Air Chuck, but I have a thing for finely made tools –and this tool is wonderfully crafted. Just around 4.5 inches in length, it is crafted from billet aluminum and anodized in a subtle blue, with a laser-etched Motion Pro logo. It looks good just hanging off the retractable hose from the compressor.

I had a riding buddy ask if he could check his tires, and when he was doing so, I heard him say… “Wow – this is an F’n beautiful air chuck.” Right, who says that about an air chuck? I made sure it was still there when we left.

Unlike every other air chuck on the planet, the Pro Fill has a head that is very adjustable and pivots in a number of directions – easily handling the wide differences in each of our bikes’ sometimes difficult tire valve needs, and keeps the set position while in use. The Pro Fill has a great O-ring sealing system, and a thrust washer provides a reliable airtight seal.

This unique design provides added hand clearance between filler and bike’s searing brake rotors – something that if I have to explain, then you need to experience yourself – once.

The Pro Fill has a ¼-inch NPT female inlet which allows the use of common air hose couplings and fittings. The Pro Fill is a perfect complement for the Motion Pro Tire Pressure gauge.

Check your tire pressure lately? I am willing to bet, that given an average group of riders, more than half of their bikes are not even close to the correct pressure. If you can get in the habit of checking and adjusting your tire pressure on a regular basis, you will be a happier, and safer, rider.

But why would you check your pressure with a cheap and inaccurate gauge? Do you really think that pencil-style gauge is anywhere near correct? Do not you and your bike deserve more?

My friends, you need an air gauge that is not only highly accurate, but sexy too. Yes, a tire pressure gauge can be very alluring.

Take a look at the Motion Pro Professional Tire Pressure Gauge…

Built with a blue billet aluminum trapezoid body, it uses a 15-inch-long high-pressure hose with dual swivels, and the Motion Pro designed air chuck is specifically built for reading air pressure, which provides a tight, leak free seal to tire valve.

This is a superior, liquid-filled, gauge that provides higher flow rate and features larger, ergonomically shaped bleeder button for precise pressure adjustment and ease of use. With a pressure range of 0-60 psi, it is ideal for checking motorcycle tires and is accurate to plus/minus 1.5 percent of maximum gauge reading. That is impressive.

It comes with a heavy-duty anti-shock protective rubber boot on gauge, to keep it safe from light bangs, and a two-year limited warranty. Air Fill Chuck • $38.99 • Tire Pressure Gauge • $160 • Both from motionpro.com

SAENG BLIND SPOT MIRRORS

One sunny summer Sunday, Shira and I were heading south from the Catskills, and were heading over High Point on Route 23, in the northwest corner of New Jersey. This road can be full of all sorts of riders, some that can be very fast and talented blokes. Most of these riders pick and choose their time and place to unleash their tentacles, but occasionally, you don’t even know you are about to get stuffed until it happens. These riders may have skill, but lack forethought and courtesy.

I was in the left of two lanes heading up the mountain and was beginning to set myself up for the quickly approaching left-hand curve.

Shira came across the Cardo with urgency… “RIGHT! GET TO THE RIGHT!”

In Shira I trust, and I slid to the right, just as a black sport bike, ridden by a fully leathered and knee-pucked guy, scooted around my left. He was well past the ton when he came by, and then neatly hung off the bike through the left, dragging his knee as he did.

Impressive? Yes. But I was more concerned, not that he passed me like that… but that I was unaware that he was even there.

This day I was riding Honda’s new CB1000 Hornet SP; a superb machine that has a lot going for it, but whose mirrors suck.

No other word for them. Suck.

Yes, I am a wide-shouldered man, but on my own machines, my mirrors are of key importance, and I rely on them every time I get on the bike; and they work, even with the stocky delts. (Hey, I’m big boned, dammit). Next Page ➢➢➢

TRADEYOUR HANDLEBARSFOR CONTROL STICKFORTHIS WINTER READ

Landings in America may be Peter Egan’s first book about flying, but to any longtime reader of Cycle World, it’s unmistakably part of the same journey. In the summer of 1987, Egan and his wife Barb packed light—just a pup tent, a little cash, and a change of clothes—and took off in a 1945 J-3 Piper Cub. Their mission: no itinerary, no air traffic control, and no distractions. Just the open sky and the open map of America.

Over six weeks and 7,000 miles, the couple stitched together a patchwork of small towns, sleepy airfields, and impromptu campgrounds.

The resulting story, told in Egan’s signature prose, is a reflection on motion, discovery, and meaning. The airborne format may have changed, but the soul of this book is pure motorcycling—free-spirited travel, mechanical simplicity, and the moments of peace that happen when you’re far from the freeway.

“Punctuated with Egan’s beloved wit and observant prose, Landings in America is more than a flight log—it’s a heartfelt journey through time, memory, and meaning.” — Octane Press Landings in America is a companion for anyone who’s ever turned down a dirt road, chosen the long way home, or camped beside their bike just to hear the world go quiet. Egan may have traded handlebars for a control stick, but the ride is as familiar and fulfilling as ever. Now available everywhere books are sold or directly from Octane Press (octanepress.com).

Without a bunch of body twisting, I could see nothing from the Hornet’s mirrors. Just the bright orange of my Aertostiched Ballistics.

Fate always has it, and that next day, fate, looking like a UPS guy, dropped off a set of Saeng’s new product –their QS Blind Spot Mirrors. QS stands for quick scan.

Scanning is a key part of our Situational Awareness, and we should all be scanning our mirrors all the time we are riding.

I was intrigued, I looked around the barn trying to decide which bike to install Saeng’s new QS Blind Spot Mirrors and thought, what better than this sporty new Honda?

Installation was very easy, as the mirrors come with various sizes of rubber inserts - 10, 12, and 14-mm stems, and the body, without inserts, will attach to 16mm round stems. Installation is a one hex head screw affair – very easy and quick.

The mirrors are well constructed and designed, but are not huge. They do not have to be, and the field of view from them was very impressive.

Look at the image here. In the mirror, you can see the Dodge only, but in the Saeng QS Mirror, you can see the shed clearly – a shed that is at about 2 o’clock from the Honda.

If you are a rider who spends miles in traffic and through towns or cities, then I would think that these mirrors would become an absolutely must-have addition to your motorcycle.

Do you know what is in your blind spot? No, you do not - that is why it’s called a blind spot, right?

The Saeng QS Blind Spot Mirrors come with various mounting offerings, as well as different colored collars to work better with different bikes’ livery. You can find them from at saeng.com for around $135.

PAST EVENTSTO PUTON YOUR CALENDARFOR 2026

One of the most celebrated Hot Dog Joints in New Jersey – and thus the world - is Rutt’s Hut, on River Road in Clifton. Rut’s opened in 1928, as a road-side stand, by Royal “Abe” Rutt and his wife, Anna, and has gathered international fame for its outstanding dogs. Their unique way of deep frying causes the hot dog casings to crack and split, which has led to the nickname “Rippers”. The relish is just as famous as the hot dogs; made with a secret blend of mustard and spices. Rutt’s Hut has been featured on the PBS special A Hot Dog Program, USA Today, numerous Food Network shows, and the Travel Channel’s Deep-Fried Paradise. It is also listed in the book “1,000 Places to See in the USA and Canada Before You Die.” You can say it is kinda famous.

Once a year the large lot, running along Route 21, is turned over to Richard Beard, who has been organizing the notso-little soiree for the past years now, and the gathering on a Wednesday evening this past June was exactly what it was called – a Ripper!

This year’s event was strategically held in between Americade and Laconia, and it showed with an ever-swelling crowd, as hundreds of riders and bikes, of all ages and persuasion, rolled into Clifton, NJ.

We arrived early and spent the next few hours strolling and re-strolling the rows of machines that were increasing over the next few hours. Almost all of these machines were ridden in, and there was an eclectic mix of old, and older bikes to peruse.

There were a lot of late 60s Hondas, and other Japanese machines to see, and on the American side, some vintage Harleys and a stunning in-line four Indian were well worth a close-up look.

Both Shira and I were taken with a 70s BSA Firebird Scrambler – a machine rarely seen these days.

With any show of this type, there will be wonderfully kept or restored motorcycles, and then there will be bikes that were created just for the fun of it. One older Honda was recreated to look more like a British Norton than from Japan.; and another modern Honda Monkey Bike was seriously fitted out – complete with Yoshimura pipe – Pops would have liked this. Then there was the Suzuki Rat Skate Board bike, right opposite a Suzuki moto machine with outstanding graphics- one half of the bike was Joker, the other side venom. Who says D.C. and Marvel can’t live together?

Around the parking lot were a large number of local dealers and shops, along with insurance and other parts of the motorcycle industry that make our world go round.

You cannot go to Rutt’s without partaking in some of their dogs. We scored a table inside and were joined by our friend John Terzo, who runs JT’s Barber Shop on Bloomfield Avenue, in Verona… a truly rider-friendly motorcycle-styled barber shop where you can get handsomized and talk bikes at the same time.

Rippers, with cheese and chili, onion rings, French fries, birch beer – defibrillator on standby. It was awesome, and guilt-free during the Ripper Old Bike Night! The Rutt’s Hut Ripper Old Bike Night will be back next June - watch for it here or on social media.

CARS & GUITARSAT CENTURY HOUSE FARM

This was the third time around for Frank and Ann Russo and the Century House Farm, putting together what has become one of the most anticipated events each year deep in the heart of northwest New Jersey – the Cars and Guitars Party.

To give you a bit of a back story on how all this came about, you have to look at the history of this small farm in Hampton Township. In the late 1800s and into the turn of the last century, this farm and the fields around it were very secluded. Over the years, it became a focal point and gathering place for families, hosting events and serving as a place where local residents would come to spend time and enjoy their neighbors’ company. A place where kids could play, the men talk farming and hunting, and the women would talk about families, recipes, and local happenings. When Frank and Ann bought the place years back, they were well aware of this part of the region’s history and sought to bring it back, with a bit of a modern twist. Everybody loves cars. Everybody loves music. If you don’t like either, then why are you reading Backroads? The idea of bringing back a one-day a year event, where all were welcome, to have a gathering of the region’s sharpest cars, and North Jersey’s best musicians and bands came about.

This July saw the biggest Cars & Guitars yet with a constant flow of cars and motorcycles rolling in and out all day long, with suggested donations being made to the local Hampton Township Fire Department, whose always impressive Blue & White Trucks were lined up along the field as well.

The bands that included local favorites like Kicker, Susie-Q, Retrocasters, Cast Iron Blues Band, Treblemakers, and guitar master Mike Lawlor kept the music going on an almost continuous basis. Solo acts also got up and played. There were a few vendor tents, one being Vin Paul Guitars, a guitar-maker from across the river in Pennsylvania, who brought a slew of truly beautiful guitars and even raffled one off during the day.

I bought the winning ticket. Well, I thought I did. I asked them to give me the “winner,” but alas, not this year. Sniff.

Food was rolled in with Smokin’ Mo’s Food truck – a place that was featured in the Great All-American Diner Run in Backroads’ June 30th Anniversary issue. Chip’s barbecue is the best in this part of New Jersey, and the smell from his truck just added to the rock & roll, summer time picnic atmosphere. We were really happy to have our family join us for a few hours of strolling around Cars & Guitars, as Shira’s sister and hubby, along with grandkids Tucker and Lucas from Kentucky, drove up for the day. We spotted other friends and Backroads readers strolling around as well. Patrick and Isabel’s Ural Sidecar always seemed to have a small crowd around it.

There was quite a bit of motorized muscle to be seen. Old hot rods, some modern rockets too. Corvettes from the early years to a smoking C7 and the supercar C8. I loved them all, but had a soft spot for a dark green ‘69 Dodge Charger. Shira was feeling groovy about the Volkswagen Campers, and anything else that had VW on it. There were a few full-on competition cars, one hill-climbing Mini Cooper looking very impressive.

We had our WRX STI there, but another Subie had us totally beat horsepower-wise, although we did get nods as the “oldest” STI owners in the northeast. We’ll take it. Our buddies Mike & Robyn’s 1957 pick-up became a focal point at the show, and later at a little BBQ gathering at Backroads’ Central, just up the road from Cars and Guitars. So close we did not need to turn on the music here – we still had it from there. This event will be coming around again next summer, and when you see us talking about it, put the afternoon aside, and make plans to ride, or drive if you have something cool to add to the Cars & Guitars Show - and be part of what is becoming a big part of the New Jersey Skylands’ Summer. See ya next summer!

BERKSHIRE BIG ADVENTURE 2025 word: Tony Lisanti & Helene Darvick

The weekend of May 16th through the 18th, the Berkshire Trail Riders Association hosted their annual Berkshire Big Adventure or BBA. This three-day event included a She Adv Ladies Skills and Drills practice session on Friday morning, and a Women’s She Adv Coffee Ride on Sunday morning. The BTRA provided ample camping in Colebrook, CT, which included hot meals Friday and Saturday night, breakfast sandwiches on Saturday and Sunday, music and craft beer from a local brewery. GPX files and route sheets were provided for the two days as well. The rest was up to Mother Nature. The Saturday route consisted of 140 miles from Colebrook all the way to North Adams, MA and back. The route traversed paved and unpaved roads with some class 1 sections. Hero sections were also included, and you could detour on to these sections and rejoin the main route after a few miles. Saturday morning started off misty with a light drizzle, but it burned off by mid-day. After the riders meeting we headed on the route with the intention of riding some of the class I sections. The wet weather did help keep the dust down in the morning, and things dried out by afternoon, but any dust was manageable. The dirt sections were mostly smooth, some of the more difficult sections were the result of erosion and puddles and many are seasonal use roads. The class I portions were challenging on a larger ADV machine but no problem for a dual sport. There were some uphill and downhill sections with some rocks thrown in to keep your attention.

The dirt sections were fun and fast especially once away from residential areas. My buddy Kim and I took turns in the lead, as she was on a larger bike. I took point on the dirt sections and she took over on the paved and smoother dirt sections. For the record, as expected, Kim kept up just fine on the dirt!

We made our way to North Adams by noon and needed to refuel which took us off route for about 10 miles or so. After a welcome fill up and snack we were able to get back on track and off road. The return portion of the route featured some interesting dirt roads through state parks which allowed for some ‘enthusiastic’ throttle play. By mid-afternoon we returned to the campsite unscathed. The BTRA provided a hot meal, bonfire and some live music into the early evening. Sitting around our own campfire discussing the day’s ride with the gals was welcome and relaxing. Mother Nature decided to throw a couple of rainstorms our way which concluded our evening on the early side.

Sunday morning arrived with clear skies and cool temperatures in the 50s. The routes for this day were about sixty miles with more hero sections available. The rider’s meeting helped organize folks into groups with varying levels of skill and those that wanted more hero sections. I went out with four guys on smaller machines (I was on my KTM 350F) and we decided to go after the hero sections. My goal was to ride half the route and be back by noon. And ride we did. There were many Class I through IV sections including some trails and roads on October Mountain, the largest state forest in Massachusetts. I had been on some of this with my ADV bike and dirt bike at different times. The NEBDR routes pass through this area. Sections in the park were eroded, wet and full of rocks - typical East Coast riding. It was no problem for the smaller machines, but ill-advised on larger ADV bikes unless the offroad skill level was high.

As planned, I parted ways with my group and returned to camp mostly on paved roads. A bit tired and sore, it was a great two days of riding.

Helene Darvick

Since I’ve owned various BMW GS since 2011, I thought it might be a good idea to actually try riding the bike the way it was intended: in the dirt. Lessons were in order and when Touratech announced that they were bringing their rally to the East coast I was in! As a bonus they were bringing along something I had never heard of called SheADV which is sponsored by Touratech as a “non-profit women advocacy organization dedicated to inspiring, celebrating, and helping women realize their adventure motorcycling dreams.” It started in 2015 and now has an array of instructors and classes both online and in person by women for women. I’ll just say here that some women learn differently in an environment geared exclusively towards them, and I am one such woman. Fast forward to 2025 and the Berkshire Big Adventure. It sounded like so much fun except that, for me, I had some issues. Although I have gone on a few very challenging dirt rides I still do not consider myself that adept and I certainly cannot pick up my bike. At the same time, I do not want to have to have my buddies babysit me while riding and\or slow them down in any way (kind of like trying to ski with Black Diamond folks when you are a green/ blue). Fortunately for me the BBA has, for the past three years, included SheADV instruction and guided rides. Erin Sanzone is on the Board of SheADV and was one of the two Trail Bosses for this year’s BBA.

As part of the SheADV experience, and to get more women to ride the BBA, the campgrounds were opened the evening before registration began for a meet and greet potluck dinner and campfire. The next morning Erin led us through some basic drills on the grass that included body positioning, static balancing, peg weighting and cone weaving and some other drills all at slow speeds. I cannot emphasize enough how these drills directly relate to on road skills that we all need. Slow speed maneuvering is how I learn to not drop my bike in the parking lot or when executing a U turn.

After the lessons we went on an escorted trail ride which included a level one hero section that was part of Saturday’s BBA route. On Saturday and Sunday, I again was able to go on guided rides with the SheADV gals without having to worry about holding any of my buddies back from their riding the more technical trails that the BBA offered. A fun time was had by all and I look forward to next year’s BBA. The BTRA puts on this annual event with many club volunteers and cooperation from local agencies and landowners. Certainly, a big Thank You for their efforts. All in all, it was a fun weekend as I, too, am looking forward to doing this again next year. • mudslinger.org/

The Law Office of Paul Gargiulo, P.C. presents

A column dedicated to your riding survival

radar love

We got a thing, that’s called radar love We got a wave in the air…radar love

~ Golden Earing

For some, well, maybe most, motorcycle riding is an escape of sorts. From work, family, the day-to-day grind or ‘must do’ tasks.

Although I oftentimes quote songs, and certainly Golden Earring applies here, another tune also does, and as much as I cringe at quoting 80’s Chicago, Cetera wasn’t off the mark when he sang:

Everybody needs a little time away I heard her say, from each other Even lovers need a holiday Far away, from each other.

Few couples we know both ride motorcycles, and even fewer hit the road together consistently. But there are those rides that are the exception. For the last number of years, I have been on solo trips. I’ve found that a few weeks alone on the road is good for my soul, just as much as a little Kevin McCallister time is for hers.

With some couples, motorcycle riding is just one of their passions, but the other, at best, wants them to follow that passion, and is encouraging. At worst, the spouse is even less than apathetic. HTS. Home Team Support is important.

I have a few friends who are married, at least we think they are, but we have rarely seen the other half, and the few times we have seen them, I wonder how they can be so lucky to hire the same actor again and again. I jest. Maybe.

But we are a positive publication, so let us stick with the better halves that really are just that.

On a recent rally, we had one friend tell us that he had just gotten a text from his wife, (let’s all her Liz) and she was worried about a big storm that was approaching, and she tossed out the idea of him getting home sooner, rather than later.

Our friend (Let’s call him Rick) knew that it was not that she didn’t want him out riding and having fun, but rather was concerned that the week leading up to this point was chilly, but pleasant, and that was all going to change in a few hours. She could see what was coming on radar. She loves him and wanted him safe. Awwww. Sweet.

Most spouses, and some friends as well, try to keep half an eye on the whereabouts of their loved ones.

Social media sites such as Facebook, Instagram, and such have made this a lot easier. Even if the rider out on the road is just an acquaintance, and not a Main Squeeze, your two-wheel family (the ones we choose) has a general

idea of where you have been and what you have been doing. When on the road, alone, for me, there will be some days that Shira knows, more or less, my route and my expectations for the day.

I am a road guy, and if I know where I will be and where I am traveling, I will do a little research, and look for places and points of interest, history, and the Realm of Dr. O’Life. Sometimes things go as planned, other times not. Like Rick Shira was concerned a few months back when I was deep in Kentucky, and sitting under a radar swath of greens, oranges and reds, and a little relieved when I texted her, that I had parked the bike, and got a room at a Marriott outside Lexington. Okay, maybe there was another text wondering why the Motel 3 & ½, around the corner, was not adequate enough – but I had already showered, dried, warm clothed, and was Moto GP’n by the time I got that one.

Most days, she might reach out in the mid-afternoon and ask where I was, and where I ‘thought’ I’d be come evening. Then, lighting up her Cool Hotel Radar that is her Mac Studio, and with the skill of a well-seasoned lapidarist, she’d cut through the stony moraine of places to stay and almost always come up with my bijou for the night.

HTS, baby, HTS. We’ll just call it Radar Love. ,