May 2026

WHAT’S INSIDE

BACKROADS (ISSN 1087-2088) is published monthly by BACKROADS™, Inc. 2026. 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.

FREE WHEELIN

The LasT Man sTanding

I had years of dedication and a natural inclination

And a childhood game I just could not outgrow

But the last man standing was saying, bring on a little bit more

Jimmy Buffett

When was the last time you walked into a motorcycle shop and just sat for an hour chatting with the boss?

I know there are plenty of times when I have dropped by one of the shops that advertise in this fine publication, and spent time with the folks there, but almost all of these are busy places, with motorcycle sales, a parts and accessory counter, and a behind-the-scenes service department with multiple bays and technicians doing their thing. All these shops are usually great at what they do, and are run by real moto-heads that, if not busy with the motorcycle industry, would be busy simply riding motorcycles.

A few weeks back, I dropped by Sport Motor Service in Newmanstown, Pennsylvania, and had a long lunch with my friend Dave Newswanger. Dave has been a one-man band for decades out of this small shop along Route 419.

When I arrived, Dave was busy finishing up the one bike in the shop

– replacing the fork seals, and a general looking over this regular customer’s cruiser. It was a nice hour or so, and in addition to simply catching up, we had a good talk about the industry in general, and smaller shops like his specifically.

I was reminded of a time years back when I first got involved in the motorcycle industry. (Play the harpy flashback music)

Heading from my teenage years and into young adulthood (ha), I spent an inordinate amount of time in local motorcycle shops.

Eventually, they figured they may as well put me to work, and I worked parts at Camrod Motors, one of the first “Super Shops” in Hell’s Kitchen, on 57th Street, selling all four Japanese brands. A lot of people worked there, and hundreds more came in and out every week. It was a busy place in the busiest city in the world. From there, I moved to a single marque dealership –Paragon, a shop in Long Island City, first assembling Hondas out of the crate, using the tool bag off my Kawasaki Z-1. (I have since invested small fortunes in tools, much to my wife Shira’s dismay). I stayed on for a few seasons as a salesman before moving on, and landing a decade or so later here at Backroads.

Continued on Page 8

BRIAN RATHJEN

WHATCHATHINKIN’

The RoadTo MoTogP

The MotoGP race held in Austin, TX, at COTA the last weekend in March celebrated the legacy of Nicky Hayden. If you are even slightly involved in the motorcycle world, you know that Nicky Hayden was the last American to hold the MotoGP Championship title, won in 2006. Witnesses during this weekend was Nicky’s winning Repsol Honda, as well as many other dedications to this man, taken from us at too early an age. I saw Marc Marquez silently walk over to this bike, touching it solemnly, as well as Jorge Martin riding the track after the race carrying Nicky’s flag. Respect and honor from two world champions to another.

So why, in the past twenty years, has there not been another? Even an American presence in MotoGP is lacking, with Colin Edwards riding for various teams from 2003-2014 and Ben Spies for Yamaha, Suzuki and Ducati from 2008-2013. Currently, American home grown Joe Roberts is racing in Moto2, but that’s about the extent of US involvement. What has changed in the past 50 years, as the 70s, 80s and 90s saw the United States ruling MotoGP? We had King Kenny Roberts with three consecutive world championships, Freddie Spencer, Eddie Lawson, Wayne

Rainey and Kevin Schwantz all with multiple titles. There are a few circumstances which brought about the decline of American participation but most notably is cost. To truly become part of the MotoGP world, a rider must, of course, have the talent. Next is family support, as the real training takes part on kart tracks using Ohvale GP-0 160cc and GP-2 190cc motorcycles in Europe with finals in Valencia, Spain. Training academies take riders from age 10 through 16 who then compete in a series of races, readying them to move through the levels of various Talent Cups and, hopefully, a ride in Moto3. The commitment to spend this amount of time overseas with the slightest of chances to actually move through the Moto3, Moto2 and MotoGP classes is overwhelming. This whole process is known as the ‘Road to MotoGP’

I just received a press release regarding Aprilia’s entry, introduced in 2023, for young talent wishing to make their debut at major circuits. The Trofeo Aprilia RS 457 is a single-make championship, consisting of five rounds in Italy, with an entry fee of 3,270 Euro + VAT (approx.. $3800) and the motorcycle, with race configuration, 10,249 Euro (approx.. $11825). This doesn’t take into consideration the cost of travel, room and board while in Italy from May to October. How does a 14-year-old talented American racer do this? Another factor may be that there’s a more cost-effective way of going rac-

Continued on Page 9

ON THE MARK

The WoRking MoToRcycLe

A dog is called a “pet” unless its purpose is to provide a service, whereupon it is called a “working dog.” Dogs who sniff out drugs or assist the military are other examples. Similarly, motos can serve vital purposes, including that of a “working motorcycle.” Far too often, particularly in the US, motorcycles are seen as “toys” – extravagances on which youths (or their midlife-crisis equivalents) strut their stuff on sunny days. Some even go so far as to classify motorcycling as a “sport,” even when it has nothing to do with a track or competition. Motorcycles are, of course, a perfectly-legitimate means of economical transportation and in the rest of the world, are treated accordingly. Most people in this country gloss over the ways in which motorcycles are used for work.

Law enforcement motos are the most widely understood: police motorcycles can operate in situations where traffic gridlock would otherwise cripple emergency response, like a crowded freeway or an accident on a bridge. In some cities, small motorcycles or scooters play a huge role in the food delivery business because they are much more easily parked, both at the restaurant and the customer’s location. I recently came back from Buenos Aires and motorcycles and scooters were ubiquitous, both as transportation and as “working bikes.” You can even get a moto Uber in B-A.

Food is not the only commodity that can be delivered by motorcycle: in many foreign cities, motorcycles carry all kinds of goods and it is sometimes entertaining to see the way packages are strapped onboard. Despite electronic signatures, some legal documents still require a “wet signature” and are carried by moto messengers. During the summer Olympics in Atlanta, my colleagues were pressed into service delivering video tapes taken at the many venues to a central editing/broadcast facility because their motos could cut through even the most gridlocked traffic.

For the last 25 years, I used my motos as part of the bicycle racing community. I started as a moto official, riding with cyclists to enforce rules, control traffic, and provide timing data. I provided marshal services at the Tours of California, Utah, and Colorado, working with police motos to keep drivers from putting the cyclists in danger. I carried other officials on the back,

including at the World Championships in Richmond. I carry photographers, both video and still. The latter involves taking them to spots along the route so they can get “the shot” across that field of poppies or from high above a horseshoe curve, followed by threading our way through the peloton to do it again or to deliver my “shooter” to the finish so he can get the “money shot” of the winner crossing the line with arms raised. My bikes and I have worked almost all of the positions in the race…except one.

This year, I am trying a new job, carrying a mechanic on the back of the bike whose job is to leap off and change the wheel of a cyclist with a flat. The job is called “neutral support,” as help is rendered to anyone who needs it regardless of what team they represent or whether their team car is in the caravan. Sometimes, especially on a twisting mountain climb or descent, the team cars can’t get to the breakaway riders, so the neutral support is there to serve them. Once the mechanic replaces the wheel with the flat tire, he remounts and off we go to a rendezvous with the neutral support car, where the mechanic will trade the bad wheel for a good one – all without stopping. It requires some precise riding next to a moving car, keeping station while the two mechanics conduct their exchange.

In all, there are about a dozen “working motorcycle” positions in a race,

Continued on Page 6, bottom

BACKLASH

Brian,

I really enjoyed your piece on battling snowstorms with the finest snowblowers ever made: Ariens. I have been operating, maintaining, and enjoying Ariens snowblowers for nearly my entire life. I am a true devotee especially since I have lived and worked in some of the snowiest places in America. Nobody needs to shovel snow if they own an Ariens SnoThro. Ariens is as they say, The King of Snow. (This must be said with a Wisconsin accent.)

As for the “2 large spinning blades”, those are called augers. Be certain you grease them properly at least once each year. I was pleased to see you have a 28 inch wide machine as I long ago decided that is the ideal width for a number of reasons. The second stage is simply called the impeller. The fuel injected units were sadly not terribly reliable when they were first introduced. I understand they have been made better but I am a traditionalist so my Ariens machines are all carbureted. That means there is nothing that can go wrong with these contraptions that I cannot fix very easily in my heated garage.

250-ish ccs of displacement is barely enough for northernNew England so the machine at my house displaces 420cc. It is always enough to bust any snowbank and to put a silly grin on my face, no matter how deep the snow.

Although you and I would certainly rather ride a motorcycle than remove snow, I completely understand how satisfying it is to operate such a machine. And yes I’ve employed more than a few pieces of motorcycle clothing whileblowing snow. They are actually well suited to the task. (Cheesy clothing pun intended.)

Thanks for the entertaining article to which I am certain many of your readers can well-relate. Here’s to warmer weather.

Jeff Adams

Greece -

Years ago I was a bit northwest of Athens, at a campground at the base of Mount Parnassus, and the rowdy guys were a bunch of Australians. And I thought I could outdrink them; wrong. Woke with a ferocious headache and decided I would take the paved road up the mountain and then jump off. Did not do the jump, but the view was spectacular!

Clem

Salvadori

Dear Brian & Shira,

Mark Byer’s well written column in the March issue about his friend Doug brought up a question most of us have as we age. When will I no longer be able to ride? I’m now 86 years old. I got my first bike -Harley 80 Flathead when I was 15, competed in New England enduros in the late 60’s, long distance adventure touring (three Alaskan trips), and more recently MotoGiro. I thought nothing could stop me, almost a million miles, and still going strong at 84 years. Then, suddenly one day I didn’t want to ride anymore.Completely lost interest. The bikes have been parked ever since. My doctor and I knew it was something more than just old age, so we started digging. All tests came back negative, other than normal symptoms of aging. Finally, after a year of searching, a neurologist gave us the answer. For three years I’ve been living with ALS – Lou Gehrig’s disease. The ride is over, but it’s been a good one.

The motorcycle community, as well as friends and family, have been amazing in their support, keeping my spirits up. And I still have Backroads magazine to take me vicariously to those fascinating destinations over the twistiest roads.

Jake Herzog

on The MaRk

Continued from Page 5 some comprising multiple motorcycles, and it isn’t unusual for a big pro race to have 40 or more motos doing their thing. It may seem like a lot, but when you spread them out over a peloton and caravan that can be several miles long if there are multiple breakaways, sometimes it isn’t enough. Once at the Tour of California, four of us were left to marshal in a group of about fifty guys who were off the back, the non-climbers on a mountain stage. Three CHP cars and our four bikes were all they had to get them to the finish safely. We managed, even distributing water to riders whose team cars had left them behind. It’s all in a day’s work for the pilot of a working motorcycle. ,

20 YEARSOF WORDSMITHING

Three years after our chance meeting on an Edelweiss trip to Montana, Mark Byers, wordsmith extraordinaire, began his monthly column, On The Mark, in these pages. In these past twenty years, Mark has brought our readers insight, retrospect, witticism and science, based on his engineering background, along with a deep dive into the dictionary one must keep handy when reading his columns. In addition, he and his lovely wife Betsy have become family, sharing many experiences with us and the rest of our Backroads ‘family’ on many miles of adventures, rallies, and generally fun times. We raise a glass and tip our helmets to you, Mark, and look forward to many more thousands of words to entertain and inspire us all. Mazel Tov!

BARBER DISCOVERYAND INNOVATION MOTORSPORTS FUND

The Barber Vintage Motorsports Museum has announced the creation of theDiscovery and Innovation Motorsports Fund, a new endowment made possible through a generous gift from the Linn-Henley Charitable Trust.

Established in honor of museum founder George W. Barber Jr., the fund will provide sustained support for the museum’s education initiatives, including K–12 field trips, summer camps, educator professional development, undergraduate internships, and hands-on STEM learning experiences. By expanding access to motorsports-based programs rooted in science, technology, engineering, math, and design, the fund ensures the museum can continue inspiring curiosity, creativity, and innovation for students of all backgrounds while advancing George Barber’s vision of motorsports as a powerful platform for education and discovery.

WHYDOWEPASSTHISFLAG?

The Patriot Tour™ escorts one American Flag through all 50 states. Over the course of 126 days, tens of thousands of people come together to accomplish this incredible feat and honor the members of America’s Armed Forces. The goal of the Patriot Tour™ is to unite Americans beneath the colors of our nation’s Flag and to support the men and women who bravely stand up to defend it. Everyone is welcome. Find the closest stop to you and join the effort. • www.nationofpatriots.com

FLAME THROWING TRIUMPH? JUSTFOR BOND…JAMES BOND

Triumph shares a longstanding connection with James Bond, most recently showcased in the 25th Bond film, No Time to Die, where 007 rides a Triumph Scrambler 1200 XE in the dramatic opening set in Matera, Italy.

Continued on Next Page

infobiTes

Continued from Page 7

They’re excited to announce that Triumph Motorcycles is the Official Motorcycle Partner for the new James Bond video game007First Light. Developed by IO Interactive, creators of the acclaimedHitmanfranchise, the game introduces a bold, standalone origin story for 007, allowing players to experience the formative events that shaped a young James Bond into MI6’s most iconic agent.

On their journey through the game, players will encounter a custom Triumph TF 250-X motocross bike with a unique ‘Flamethrower’, in the iconic Q Lab. Bond can deploy its fiery capabilities during gameplay; a thrilling addition to the action.

The flame throwing Triumph is a most excellent idea – especially in NJ where some car drivers just get too close… this’ll show them! We cannot wait to try it!

NEW FEDERAL DATA HIGHLIGHTS POWERSPORTS’ ROLEIN OUTDOOR RECREATION ECONOMY

New data from the U.S. Bureau of Economic Analysis show outdoor recreation continued to play a significant role in the U.S. economy in 2024, with powersports ranking among the sector’s largest activities.

According to the agency’s latest Outdoor Recreation Satellite Account, outdoor recreation generated $1.3 trillion in economic output in 2024, supporting 5.2 million American jobs and accounting for 2.4% of U.S. gross domestic product. The sector grew 2.7% in real terms (inflation-adjusted) over 2023, reflecting continued demand for outdoor experiences throughout the nation.

“The data illustrates the importance that powersports plays in the broader outdoor recreation economy,” said Buckner Nesheim, Director of Research and Statistics for the Motorcycle Industry Council. “Our industry supports millions of jobs, fuels local businesses, and provides millions of Americans opportunities to explore and enjoy the outdoors.” ,

fRee WheeLin’

Continued from Page 3

Even though there were bigger shops, a trend that has continued till this day, there were always smaller independent shops to be found. Usually, they sold accessories, did service, and perhaps sold a few bikes on consignment. There are still a number of them to be found and, once a relationship is made with these smaller shops, they can become priceless, as they, many times, will go far beyond what a larger and more frenetic mega-dealership can or will do for you.

These smaller shops have an allure, a certain je ne sais quoi to them. The relative quietness. The smell…the smell for sure; a mix of fresh rubber from the tires piled along the shelves, motor oil, grease, and sweat. If we could bottle this tang, we might have a new industry.

Back in the day, half a century ago (wow), there seemed to be a lot of smaller independent shops… many times one-man affairs like Dave’s Sport

Motor Service. In Woodside, across from their family-owned beer distributor, my friend Mike Devito could and would tune, fix, adjust, or rebuild your brakes, engine, or entire bike. Whatever you needed.

Life was easier back then.

There are still smaller, independent shops to be found, and not to take anything away from the huge Motorcycle Shopzillas out there, but if you know the smaller shops and owners, you have found a good thing.

You will find the same feel with a lot of the

WhaTchaThinkin’

Continued from Page 4

ing – supercross and motocross. This is, and always has been, a family affair. You’ll see trailers, campers, tents and small villages set up at any track you visit. The camaraderie, even though the competition is fierce, is everywhere. In addition, factory support from Honda, Yamaha, Kawasaki, Suzuki, KTM, Triumph and Ducati is very real. And with factory support comes factory money, with the most talented 16- and 17-year olds being signed for between $300,000 and $400,000 a season, with potential millions more with wins and titles. Young riders see the likes of Jett Lawrence jetsetting and think, ‘Hey, why not me?’ This and the fact they can do most of their racing on US soil is quite the draw.

So, how did Nicky make his way to a MotoGP title? He and his brothers started riding in Owensboro, KY, when they were in diapers. It was a family affair, as Momma and Poppa Hayden both raced, as well as his other siblings. At age three Nicky entered his first minibike dirt track race at Paducah Int’l Raceway, in 1985. Seeking stiffer competition over the years, the family traveled further and Nicky entered his first AMA Amateur National Dirt Track event in 1989. In 1990, the Haydens swept the 65cc class at the Nationals and Nicky looked towards road racing, mounting a Yamaha YSR50 to race in Texas at the CMRA. He continued competing in both dirt and

smaller dealerships, which have been family-owned and operated for generations. These are the folks who, if they are closed, are out riding. You know these shops when you enter them.

The industry has changed over the decades, and Amazon, ‘Zilla-style internet ordering, and the pandemic have sliced away at some of these smaller shops, and many of them simply closed and went to smell the flowers.

But, not my buddy Dave… he loves what he does, and is awesome at it.

He will be one of the last men standing. ,

road, sidelined a bit due to his being underage. In 1997, on his 16th birthday, Nicky turned pro and took part in the remainder of the AMA races that year. Over the next years he competed in 600 and 750 Supersport and substituted for injured Honda teammate Miguel Duhamel in AMA Superbike for four races, taking his first podium at the finale at Pikes Peak Int’l Raceway. Now a Honda factory rider, he continued his winning ways and in 2002 had his first victory at the Daytona 200, finishing the season as the youngest AMA Superbike Champion. 2003 saw him move to the top tier of motorcycling, entering MotoGP with Repsol Honda on an RC211V with his first race on April 6, 2003, his first podium at Motegi and second at Philip Island, earning him Rookie of the Year. July of 2005 at the home turf of Laguna Seca saw Nicky’s first victory, with five more that year, giving him third place in the championship. This lifetime of two-wheeled immersion brought him to his lifelong dream of becoming a world champion, which he did at Valencia in 2006.

It was a different time, and a young racer from Owensboro, Kentucky was able to climb this amazing ladder without the Road to MotoGP but instead by taking the backroads from local dirt tracks to distant road courses, by being consistently good and more often great. And he was an equally great person, as all around him agreed. This mixture is what it took, at that point in time, to be on the Road to MotoGP. ,

Warren County Tourism presents BIG CITY GETAWAY

The sToRyof J.e. hangeR

Last year, we had the opportunity to spend a few weeks riding in Japan with some really great fellow riders, one being my friend Joe. Joe is the epitome of Jimmy Buffett’s song “I’m a Piece of Work,” in every sense; a man living large, and with a perpetual smile. It was not until about halfway through this tour that I learned Joe, an excellent rider, hiker, and the one guy in the group who was up for anything, all the time, had a small secret he had kept away from all of us - he was an amputee. His story is truly an amazing one, and maybe someday he’ll let me tell it in Backroads. Joe was, and is, in-

daytrip ideas to get out of the daily grind

spirational. (But let’s not tell him all that… it’ll just encourage him – we don’t want that – trust us) It is truly amazing how so many have pushed past personal loss and tragedy. My other buddy Ray, another amputee, is one of the most competent track day riders I know. They both have horrendous stories.

But for those who have lost limbs, it is perhaps the story of J.E. Hanger that is most important.

When the Civil War broke out, an 18-year-old engineering student, James Edward Hanger, left his family, forgoing his studies at Washington College (now Washington & Lee University), to join his brothers as a soldier during the early days of the Civil War. On June 3, less than two days after enlisting, a cannonball tore through his leg early in the Battle of Philippi. Becoming the first amputee of the Civil War, the young Hanger survived an excruciating battlefield amputation that was necessary to save his life. During this war, there would be more than 60,000 such amputations.

This life-altering tragedy on a West Virginia battlefield propelled him on a path that would lead to the invention of the prosthetic, revolutionizing the lives of countless amputees worldwide.

Upon returning to his family’s home in August 1861, Hanger requested solitude in his upstairs bedroom. His family assumed he was writhing in despair; however, unbeknownst to anyone else, in those quiet moments, Hanger was working on a solution to overcome his physical challenge. He began inventing and building what would prove to be a revolutionary prosthetic solution. Reflecting on that time, he was quoted as say-

ing, “No one can know what such a loss means unless he has suffered a similar catastrophe. In the twinkling of an eye, life’s fondest hopes seemed dead. What could the world hold for a maimed, crippled man?” Whittled from barrel staves, the “Hanger Limb” was first worn by Hanger in November 1861 as he descended the steps of his home, to the astonishment of his family, who didn’t know what he was doing while locked away for months. “Today I am thankful for what seemed then to me nothing but a blunder of fate, but which was to prove instead a great opportunity,” Hanger later said.

Hanger’s personal success with his innovative articulating knee joint resulted in his desire to help others who had also suffered limb loss, and the remainder of his life was dedicated to serving those with physical challenges. Early on, he was commissioned to develop prosthetic limbs for wounded soldiers, and he did so throughout his career, eventually expanding his

service to civilians as well. Even a decade after he retired, his dedication to others remained steadfast. In 1915, Hanger traveled to Europe to help advance prosthetic care for those wounded during World War I. He was so highly regarded in the field that by the time of his death in June 1919, the J.E. Hanger Company had branches in Atlanta, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, St. Louis, London, and Paris.

Today, Hanger Inc. is one of the leaders in prosthetic limbs in the world, and has help thousands continue on with happy, fulfilled, and loving lives.

J. E. Hanger was posthumously inducted into the National Inventors Hall of Fame in 2015. His story (which is memorialized on a plaque outside the Barbour County Courthouse on Main Street in Philippi, West Virginia) testifies to the strength of the human spirit and the power of ingenuity to change lives for the better. ,

hyde haLL

267 gLiMMeRgLass sTaTe PaRk Rd, cooPeRsToWn, ny 13326 607-547-5098 • hauntedhistorytrail.com/explore/hyde-hall

Cooperstown is most famous for being the home of the National Baseball Hall of Fame, but it is also the site of another famous building, historic Hyde Hall.

surrounded it for generations. Constructed between 1817 and 1834 by George Clarke, a wealthy New Yorker and great grandson of the George Clarke who was governor of the British colony of New York from 1736 to 1743 (we all remember him, right?). The younger Clarke built this mansion, once the largest in the United States, with great granddaddy’s bucks.

Hyde Hall, is an architectural masterpiece nestled within the picturesque Glimmerglass State Park in Cooperstown, New York. Glimmerglass State Park overlooks beautiful Otsego Lake, nicknamed ‘Glimmerglass’ by James Fenimore Cooper in his Leatherstocking Tales. The Hyde Hall Covered Bridge, just a short walk from Hyde Hall itself, is the only covered bridge is not only the oldest existing wooden, covered bridge in NY State but the oldest in the United States. It is one of three covered bridges in NY State with horizontal siding, built by Cyrenus Clark, Andrew Alden and Lorenzo Bates in 1825.

Hyde Hall is not only renowned for its grand neoclassical design but also for the supernatural tales that have

The mansion reflects the opulence of the era while also carrying an air of mystery and unexplained phenomena. The estate’s haunting reputation is rooted in its tumultuous history, marked by financial struggles and family discord. It seemed the Clarke’s put the “fun” in dysfunctional.

Visitors and staff alike have reported numerous eerie encounters, from disembodied voices echoing through the hallways to the inexplicable scent of tobacco smoke attributed to the long-deceased Clarke. One of the spirits haunting Hyde Hall is believed to be George Clarke’s wife, Anne Low Cary Cooper. She was the widow of James Fenimore Cooper’s brother Richard.

After George Clarke passed away, she refused to move away from the home.

Clarke’s eldest son inherited the mansion; upon taking possession of the house, the son immediately threw his mother out. Nice, kid.

According to legend, as she was leaving,

she said she would haunt the house forever and when she looked back from her carriage she said, “let no woman ever be happy in this home again”... she is said to still haunt the house today.

She evidently lived up to her word, as many guests have reported paranormal experiences in the mansion since her passing. Objects have moved of their own accord in the building, and there have been reports of inexplicable lights flashing brightly at times. Some claim that Hyde Hall is haunted by multiple other ghosts as well.

Perhaps the most famous of these spectral residents is the ghost of a wom-

an in white, said to be one of Clarke’s descendants who met a tragic end. Her ghostly apparitions are said to wander the expansive corridors, with many claiming to have felt her cold presence or witnessed her ethereal form.

It seems that Hyde Hall boasts 200 years of bone-chilling paranormal activity. Visitors have experienced whispers, knocking, footsteps, distant music, and even full-body apparitions. In addition to personal accounts, paranormal investigators have conducted numerous explorations of Hyde Hall, capturing compelling evidence that suggests the presence of spirits. Audio recordings frequently reveal ghostly whispers, and unusual electromagnetic readings further support claims of supernatural…

Today it is open to the public for visitation and even special ghost tours. Hyde Hall offers guided ghost tours of the mansion by appointment only (for groups of 10 or more) throughout the season. Their public ghost tours

“Hyde & Shriek” are scheduled for most Fridays and Saturdays in October, and public investigations are with Orange County New York Paranormal. These events are not recommended for small children. ,

Wytheville VA Tourism presents

WE’RE OUTTA HERE

eagLes MeRe, PennsyLvania

Eagles Mere has so much to offer today’s motorcycle riders, and we have been here so many times – but always on the bikes.

During the warm weather, this town is Bustling – with a capital B. Especially on the weekends, which can see crowds of a thousand or so. During the weekdays, or in the winter, a fraction of that.

Located in Sullivan County, Pennsylvania, the town was laid out in 1877, and it quickly became a busy escape for the more affluent of Philadelphia.

The town name, Eagles Mere, literally means Eagle’s Lake, with ‘mere’ being a more poetic synonym for lake.

The town was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1996.

There were a number of larger resorts in the area over the years, and for decades, the Eagles Mere Playhouse saw performers such as Patricia Neal, Paula Prentiss,

a weekend destination keeping you on the backroads

Charlton Heston, and Richard Benjamin.

The last time we were there, staying at the Eagles Mere Inn, we rode over to the lake and down the steep hill to the shore. A local was telling us that during good old winters, the Fire Department builds a toboggan run, and for a reasonable donation, you can go for one serious, if quick, ride down the hill and across a good part of the frozen lake.

“Wow,” we thought. This is some hill, and I was glad that I had a motorcycle to ride up rather than walking it.

Little did I know that six months later I would be not only walking up this hill, but dragging a bunch of wood, rope, and steel, that was handily crafted, once-upon-a-time, into a toboggan.

But we’ll get back to that, as our thought is now heading into spring, and both the crocuses and motorcycles should be out.

Let me list a few reasons why this part of the Keystone State, and Eagles Mere, is such a great place to ride and explore.

Well, first for us it is the roads. This part of Pennsylvania, in the middle of the Endless Mountains, is all hills, valleys, gorges, forests, and lakes, and the roads here follow the natural flow of the land, with all its elevation changes, beauty, and fun that goes with it.

World’s End State Park is a perfect example, and Big Mike’s Forksville General Store will serve up a seriously great lunch to satisfy that hunger you’ve developed from riding the ups and downs.

Closer to Eagles Mere, you will find not one, but four great museums.

In town, there is the Eagles Mere Museum, celebrating the history of the town and region, and just down the road, something for all of us motor-heads. Three museums featuring classic airplanes, super motorcycles,

and an outstanding auto museum.

These are run in conjunction with the Eagles Mere Inn, and if you stay there, ask about visiting all three as they are so well worth it.

The Eagles Mere Inn, our goto inn while riding the region, has 16 comfortable rooms and serves a filling breakfast come morning. Their restaurant, A.C. Little’s Drinkery, has never let us down – even when slammed, they serve up consistently delicious offerings – and make great drinks too.

Back to the reason we found ourselves sloggin’ up the hill, in the snow, in

the middle of winter… Eagles Mere has the old-style toboggan slide. And this winter was surely one of those old-timey winters with plenty of cold and snow.

This is no easy task to create, as they start work on a Friday so the slide is ready for the public by Sunday afternoon. It takes approximately 380 man-hours to build the slide. An average of nine pick-up trucks are used, covering a total distance of 250 miles, and they carry approximately 1000 ice blocks, weighing a total of 120 tons.

When it is running, it is a real blast, and knowing this was an ON year, we ran our WRX STI out to Eagles Mere (with more climate-appropriate tires), to partake in a little mid-winter fun. This was all around the same time as the Winter Olympics, so we felt our timing was right.

Our toboggan run was a quick one, and we ran the speed traps at nearly 47 feet per second. How fast? Do the math.

We hope it is a good winter next year so we can return, but you do not have to wait, and we highly recommend exploring Eagles Mere and its surrounding area in prime and warm riding weather. Mid-week is an especially good time to visit, and when at the Inn, please say hello for us.

Ride Often. Ride Well. Ride the Backroads. ,

Wanamakers General Store presents GREAT ALL AMERICAN DINER RUN

back Road bReWeRy

248 oLd MiLfoRd Rd, MiLfoRd, Pa 18337

570-409-3188 • www.backroadbrewingco.com

It would be a bit hard for us not to eventually get around to featuring a cool place that almost shares a name with this magazine.

Although we have nothing to do with this place between Milford, Pennsylvania, and Port Jervis, New York, we can certainly say they do the name proud. Every now and again, we take a ride up this way and have found Back Road Brewery to be far more than just another maker of fine beers, but a brewery with a serious problem – a serious pizza problem.

Although found on the busy Route 209, at the edge of the Keystone state, Back Road Brewery is set far back from the highway, and sits on 13 acres of old farmland, and has built itself into a very picturesque piece of land.

Unlike many local breweries, here at Back Road, they have plenty of room, whether it is in the large open Great Room or up in the Hayloft.

Even when the parking lot has seemed full, we have always found a place to sit, eat, maybe have a beer (or soda), and just hang. Not only do they serve up a wide selection of handcrafted beer, but cider and seltzer flow

tasty places to take your bike

alongside good music and delicious food. It is a very comfortable place. During the warmer riding weather, their patio is certainly the place to be.

We have gotten up a number of weekends, not just for the food and drink, but Back Road Brewery always seems to have truly outstanding musicians there whenever we have visited.

The beers here are just not flavorful, and different, but have some great names as well. Pike County Painkiller, Not So Hazy, and Hawk’s Nest Haze are served up next to Warrior, Octo-Node, and Juicy Gossiper. They make great beer and have fun too.

On the food-side of things, they have a quick and professional kitchen and have a good selection of offerings. Pulled pork, chopped cheese

steak, chicken, and their Signature sandwich – juicy sliced pot roast with melted pepper jack cheese and topped with frizzled onions on a fresh sub roll, served with Back Road’s side of secret sauce that give the perfect kick to the sandwich and a side of fries. Their ribs were amazing looking, as were the number of burgers, of all types, that passed by our table while we awaited our pies. They also offer two salads – a Caesar, and a Grinder… as they say “Your dream Italian sandwich without the carbs.”

As you would hope, Back Road Brewery’s Wings are right up there, and can come with any of nine different flavorings – from mild to wild.

If you care not about carbs and just want to nosh a bit, the Giant Bavarian pretzel, served with beer cheese, will delight the taste buds before moving on to your aorta.

But we did say that Back Road Brewery has a pizza problem, and that is a good thing – as their brick oven pies are exceptionally noteworthy.

For those of us who grew up where an insult to your local pizzeria was worse than a slight against your mother, you will appreciate how Back Road truly hand-tosses each pie. Always an impressive thing to see as long as it all goes well. It always does here.

Classic cheese, pepperoni, sausage, Hawaiian, margherita, white, chicken & bacon, and their signature Back Road barbecue –some of these are easily mixed and matched.

If you have room, they also have two fairly decadent desserts with their Churro or S’Mores pizzas. Whatever you come for, we do not think you will be disappointed with a ride to, and spending a bit of time at, a place called Back Road, but we could be just a bit biased.

But to truly make it worth the ride, we will give you a ride that will not disappoint – both of our names are on the line here…, backroadsmagazine.transfernow. net/dl/BackRoadsBrewery

sandy’s scooPs

45 bRidge sTReeT, LaMbeRTviLLe, nJ 08530 • 10 bRidge sTReeT #4, fRenchToWn, nJ 08825

908-442-5586 • sandyscoops.com

New Jersey has some very quaint towns throughout its length and width, from the Victorian sights in southern Cape May to our quiet corner of the Skylands with its excellent riding in the north. And sprinkled about are some excellent stops to satisfy your ice cream desires.

On a recent ride to meet friends for an early Spring gathering, we had the occasion to park and take a walk through the trendy town connected by a bridge to the over-trendy and crowded New Hope in Pennsylvania – Lambertville, NJ. While parking on a weekend can be a challenge, it’s worth a little stretch of the legs to get to this month’s Inside Scoop – Sandy’s Scoops, to be specific.

Friends since middle school, Kevin Tokash and Eric Huesca are the master churners at Sandy’s Scoops. Having acquired a culinary background from the culinary program offered at Hunterdon County Polytech, Kevin was inspired and had the confidence to start learning to make ice cream. He began experimenting, learning from textbooks, cookbooks and other available resources. And there were some early disasters, which can happen, as Dr. Seuss said in ‘Oh! The Places You’ll Go!’ ‘Wherever you fly, you’ll be best of the best. Wherever you go, you will top all the rest. Except when you don’t. Because, sometimes, you won’t. I’m sorry to say so but, sadly, it’s true that Bang-ups and Hang-ups can happen to you.’

But with perseverance, determination and continued effort, the two developed some pretty tasty ice cream, if I do say so myself.

Being in the area, they saw a need for a homemade ice cream shop and had always wanted to dabble in the food industry, so they decided to go for it. They first had pop-ups in front of Cucina Del Sole in Frenchtown, followed by a location inside the Stockton Market. Learning to deal with a larger

audience and gaining experience, they secured their spot in Frenchtown, NJ, which opened in 2022 and the Lambertville shop in 2024. By the way, Sandy’s is named for Kevin’s Golden Retriever Lab, whose face adorns their logo.

Kevin finds that he enjoys the creativity that can be expressed through the many flavors they’ve developed, of which there are almost 200. Like many ice creameries, the scooping case in each shop rotates 24 at a time, with seasonal flavors added when the fresh ingredients are available. All their ice cream is made in house, including the base which uses local milk from Spring Run Dairy in Pittstown, NJ. They do their best to include local farm options, such as in their Honey Lavender ice cream, made with lavender from Mad Lavender in Milford, NJ.

We popped into the shop not long after they opened for the season – both shops are closed January and February, but they hope to be open year round soon –and were warmly welcomed with both a springy pink décor and a friendly smile by the young man behind the scooping case. And speaking of scooping case, the options today were amazing, giving us a hard choice. Aside from their most popular flavors of Spring Run Farm Vanilla and Spring Run Farm Chocolate Milk, top on my list were their other fan favorites of Banana Caramel Biscoff (banana base with house made caramel swirl and crushed biscoff cookie pieces) and Coffee Chip (coffee ice cream with dark chocolate stracciatella). So, I took a taste of both – delicious –and instead chose Cherry Cheesecake and Strawber-

ry, while Brian had a homemade waffle cone filled with Coffee and Vanilla. We took a seat up front and enjoyed our early season ice cream while people-watching the sidewalks of Lambertville.

In addition to a cup, cone or waffle cone or bowl, you can have your scoops as a sundae with a grand assortment of toppings from which to choose, milkshake or float and, should you have a hard time making your decision, a flight of four flavors. Sandy’s Scoops has those lactose-intolerant covered with an assortment of Vegan flavors made fresh with house made oat milk and coconut cream, as well as dairy-free sorbets. Their novelty treats include ice cream sandwiches and tacos, when available, at both locations and house made soft serve exclusively at the Frenchtown location during the summer months.

If you happen to have brought your furry canine friend, they can have a treat of the dog variety atop a Pup Cup of vanilla with whipped cream.

Whichever location you visit, you will not be disappointed with Sandy’s Scoops lovely ice cream offerings, as well as their laid-back, easy-going atmosphere. Enjoy, and we’ll see you on the road to our next ice cream stop. ,

While we all love to spend long days in the saddle once the weather brings us warmth and sunshine, sometimes you must stop and smell the roses, watch the stars, seek the birds or just explore nature a bit as it comes bursting back to life. We’ll bring you to some unusual destinations where you can park the bike for a bit and explore what is, or was, while riding into the best season of the year.

Edelman Fossil Park & Museum of Rowan University

66 Million Mosasaur Way, Sewell, NJ • www.efm.org • 856-284-3466

We have featured Edelman’s a few times in these pages but think it is worth another mention. Not only do you get a wonderful education on the giants that walked the earth while exploring the marvelous exhibits inside, you have the opportunity to take home a piece of the past. Young and old, who doesn’t like digging in the dirt on a quest to possibly find a shark tooth, prehistoric oyster or, if you are really lucky, a piece of amber.

Cowtown Rodeo

780 Harding Hwy, Pilesgrove, NJ 08098 cowtownrodeo.com • 856-769-3200

When you’re done digging into the past, a short distance away is another piece of history but with much more action. The Cowtown Rodeo, started back in 1929, has stood the test of time – sticking with its traditions of the Old West and bring-

ing you the taste of Western ranching that was, and perhaps still is, an integral part of American history. It is the longest running weekly professional rodeo in the United States, taking a break during World War II and making its return in 1955. Fifth generation Harris’ – Katy (Harris) and RJ Griscom have taken the reins and are producing and promoting the Cowtown Rodeo nationwide. Performances are every Saturday at 6pm from May through September. There are several variety of lodgings available in this area, or take another short ride across the Delaware into Pennsylvania’s Brandywine area where you’ll find oodles of options, from simple motels to more upscale digs.

Cherry Springs State Park

4639 Cherry Springs Rd, Coudersport, PA

cherryspringsstatepark.com

Laurelwood Inn & Steakhouse 1115 E 2nd St, Coudersport, PA 16915

thelaurelwood.com • 814-274-9220

Our next stop, should you be making a road trip from these suggestions, will be deep into the Susquehannock State Forest in Coudersport, PA. A good day’s ride will bring you to Cherry Springs State Park, in the Pennsylvania Wilds region and is the world’s second certified International DarkSky Park. What does this mean? The IDSP is a public or private land – such as a national park – which is certified for its exceptional starlit nights and nocturnal environment. The park is protected from light pollution through strict lighting policies and usually offer educational programs and viewing

opportunities of the Milky Way, stars and celestial events. Cherry Springs SP has been noted as the best spot for stargazing in all of the United States. The viewing field is at the top of a 2,300-foot high mountain and on a clear night, up to 30,000 stars can be seen with the naked eye. Whether you are an amateur or seasoned astronomer, or just want to get away from humanity and see the ‘oldtime sky’ as it was before the age of light pollution and lie under the dark skies and wonder what the heck is really out there, Cherry Springs SP is the place you ought to be. You can spend a few hours stargazing or, if you need more, pitch a tent and continue into the wee hours. There are cabins, and very nice ones, close by (cherryspringsstatepark.com/lodging). For those not nature-inclined, the Laurelwood Inn & Steakhouse, about 12 miles towards Coudersport, will give you a place to rest your head in comfort after a wonderful steak dinner. Download .gpx here: backroadsmagazine.transfernow.net/dl/KennettSquareToCherrySpringSP

Cornell Botanical Garden

124 Comstock Knoll Dr, Ithaca, NY 14850 cornellbotanicalgardens.org

After you’ve had your deep thoughts about life and the universe, point yourself north across the border into New York State. This ride will take you into the Finger Lakes region and a spot where I spent many a summer exploring, before my motorcycle days. It is full of many natural wonders; Watkins Glen – both the park and the track, Robert Treman State Park and the many wineries, but on this visit we’ll be headed to the Cornell Botanical Garden. Situated on the Cornell campus, it occupies a full third of the 745 acres, and including off-campus areas, encompasses 3,800 acres of

landscape, forest, and gardens. Last year marked its centennial celebration and the Garden has literally blossomed over this time. The Nevin Welcome Center features the rock, herb and young flower gardens while further afield you’ll enjoy the Mundy Wildflower garden, Jackson Grove Magnolia collection and Flowering Tree collection while you meander through the many paths. In addition to the growths, you’ll find man-made beauty like the Dance of Nature two-story mural on the exterior wall of the Welcome Center, the Sculpture Garden with its abstract, ten-ton concrete sculptures created by in the 1960s by the undergraduate architecture students, Catalpa Wind Chime – suspended within a window cut from the remaining trunk of Catalpa tree, and the Lightwave Bench inspired by the constant motion

of water breaking through rock. You can ride through a good portion of the Gardens, with available parking in many areas. There are also a number of waterfalls which is a good reason this area is considered ‘gorge-ous’. The city of Ithaca is diverse, cosmopolitan and a real foodie paradise. Spend the night and explore the downtown Commons, the four-block, pedestrian-only section home to unique stores and restaurants, as well as the Sagan Planet Walk. You will find any cuisine, from a simply great cup of coffee, an indulgent scoop of ice cream (Ithaca is the place that invented the ice cream sundae), the perfect taco or burger to a night cap at one of the local hangs. Download .gpx here: backroadsmagazine.transfernow.net/dl/CherrySpringsSPtoCornellGarden

The Wild Center

45 Museum Dr, Tupper Lake, NY 12986 • www.wildcenter.org

Get ready for a beautiful day’s ride into the Adirondacks, the biggest natural park in the lower 48 states. In fact, it can hold Yellowstone, Yosemite, Grand Canyon, Glacier and Great Smoky Mountains National Parks inside its borders. Within this natural wonder you’ll find The Wild Center in Tupper Lake. Opened on July 4, 2006, we visited not long after, and it has only

gotten bigger and better since, growing from 81 acres to its now 115-acre site. The 54,000-squarefoot indoor Wild Center features numerous exhibits dealing with climate and nature, the animals and plants of the region and the indigenous people of the Haudenosaunee who made their homes in the Adirondacks for thousands of years. You can see what it’s like to soar like a bird with the Birdly – donning a pair of Oculus Rift 3D goggles – and see and feel as if you are flying through the Amazon Rain Forest, dodg-

ing skyscrapers of NYC or sailing under the ocean. Then step outside and walk the woodland trails, immerse your senses in the Forest Music – four different musical pieces from the Crane School of Music piped through 24 speakers along the trail. Take a walk on the Wild Side along a trail of bridges to the treetops of the Adirondacks – visit a four-story tree house, swing on bridges, clamber over a spider’s web and climb into a full-sized bald eagle’s nest. Coming in June is another of Thomas Dambo’s amazing TROLLS installation featuring six giant Trolls who are there to help the humans rediscover nature and inspire them to be good stewards of earth, each with a unique personality and story to tell. Once again, plan on overnighting at one of the local motels to be found in this area. That way you’ll have a fresh start for the last leg of this off-thebeaten-track sojourn. Download .gpx here: backroadsmagazine.transfernow.net/dl/CornellToWildCenter

Birds of Vermont Museum

900 Sherman Hollow Road, Huntington, VT 05462

birdsofvermont.org

Keeping with our nature theme and the journey of Spring, you’ll continue east across more of the Adirondacks and some very excellent roads before crossing Lake Champlain into the Green Mountain State. The last stop on this excellent adventure is the Birds of Vermont Museum. I know that we absolutely love our morning coffee with our feathered friends, and I know many of you do too. This museum will not only give you the opportunity to com mune with nature and, hopefully, some of the resident and migrating birds that are out and about the mu seum’s property.

As their website says, ‘It started with a parakeet…’ when, in 1938, 18-year-old Bob Spear saw a stray parakeet fly into the woodshed on their Colchester, VT farm, which became the model for his first wood carving. He carved regularly for the rest of his 94 years. His collection grew, as you would imagine, and by 1987 Bob had carved 321 birds, way too many to fit in the original woodshed, or the additional workshop, so a new addition was added on top of the old foundation on the property, now called ‘the barn’. Within a few years the main floor was already filled, so

Bob finished off the downstairs. By 1992 the viewing window, a gift shop, more useful rooms and, most importantly, bathrooms were in place. 2013 saw the collection reach 500, and all looked swell, but a devastating storm hit, causing major damage to the property and, not long afterwards, Bob passed away. This double tragedy did not deter the people’s love of the museum and by 2016 the new entrance bridge was in place, as was beautiful landscaping. Other carvers stepped in to fill the void, new programs and were created and visitors continued to flock in.

Bob Spear’s legacy is big enough to do any-

Explore the two floors, downstairs featuring dioramas, cabinets of early carvings, a window overlooking a feeding area while upstairs you can examine raptors, aisles of birds that nest in Vermont’s forests and fields and workshops with hands-on activities.

Bob’s California Condor is one of his largest carvings, taking over 500 hours in all, while The Tom, a most life-like carving, is a testament to persistence, taking Bob two years and 1130 hours to complete.

On your way to the museum, I’m sure you’ll pass one of Vermont’s general stores, which would be a great place to pick up a fresh sandwich or some Vermont cheese and homemade bread for a bite at one of the picnic tables places around the property. Download .gpx here: backroadsmagazine.transfernow.net/dl/WildCenterToBirdsVermont

We hope you’ve enjoyed this road trip to some unusual spot at which to celebrate the changing of the seasons and welcome the return of the warm riding weather. See you on the road. ~ Shira Kamil

I had a Facebook message the other afternoon from my buddy Tom Van Beveren. Years back (too many), Tom was the publisher of Free2Wheel, a California-based regional riding magazine, much like Backroads. You might think that two publishers would come off as, perhaps, competitors – even if a continent away – but that was never the case with Tom. He was awesome from the first introduction, and we quickly became a Mutual Admiration Society – like Clapton and Allman – but with far less raw talent. We would each feature the other in our respective publications, and Tom, an avid and talented off-road rider, mentored me through some tougher media intros where this city boy was much like Mitch Robbins in City Slickers – Tom being an able Curley.

The post was talking of a Media Intro back what seems a billion years ago. BMW had brought a bunch of us to Sedona, Arizona. The day’s ride on the new GS involved some road time, and an amazing trip down through the Hualapai Indian Reservation to the Colorado River at the bottom of the Grand Canyon, with lunch at the end of a few miles of straight ‘down the middle creek’ riding. I decided to dip a booted toe into the river, slipping on a rock, and into a deep and swift current, causing a quite a stir from those on shore. My bad. Kevin Wing never lets me forget this.

“Human chain, human chain…!” Yeh, yeh.

There was a ride back up, a slightly worrisome incident with local native law enforcement, before this stellar GS ride ended for the day at the top of the Grand Canyon. It was a half-day ride back to our hotel, so we flew back to Sedona in a couple of small planes. At sunset. Over the Grand Canyon. I remember the flight attendant separating Tom and me, as we were the two big goonie guys, and such men sitting together kinda throws a small plane off balance. It was truly an amazing day’s ride – and has been often talked about as one of the greatest press launches.

Going back and forth with Tom and others about this day, the consensus was that it was certainly one for the books.

It made me start to sift through other riding days. It is my thought that a ride that goes exactly how it was planned, well, it can be a bit boring; and sometimes adversity and challenge add to the memory – certainly the retelling of the adventure, which, in true Fred Rau fashion, must be made bolder, more daring, and colorful with each rendition.

The Storm

There’s a storm front coming

White water running, and the pressure is low

Storm front coming… small craft warning on the radio

Billy Joel

For any of us who have ridden great distances and for many years, there will always be weather tales. Like a day in the middle of March, some rides can experience all four seasons in one ride. Topography, weather patterns, and fronts can change the flavor of a ride in quick time.

One side of a mountain might be all smiles, warmth, and Easter bunnies, and riding over the pass, you discover the other side is cold, wet, and miserable groundhogs.

Looking back from the relative comfort and safety of my desk, the Energy Kinetics water heater, a replacement for the heater than came with the building that was designed and built by Edwin Rudd, keeping the entire building

warm, dry and very cozy even on this chilly and wet day, it is easy to look back on some of the weather that, at the time, kicked the snot out of us. There have been many storm fronts, but one or two seem to stand out and come quickly to mind.

Whenever this comes up here at Backroads, one place is immediately mentioned – Brazil. Many years back, we had been invited down to Brazil by two brothers, Mario and Milton Golembeck, for a week or two of riding around the massive South American country’s southeastern Atlantic side. We had met the two the year before riding in Canada, and the personalized tour of their backyard in Brazil will always be a highlight… but there was “The Storm.” We were heading back to the USA on a late flight that night, riding through a region called Minas Gerais, lying south and west of Rio de Janeiro, and trying to make time back to São Paulo. The region is full of gently loping hills, deep valleys, and very unpredictable weather. Here, storms can come up and over the hills so fast that there is little time to seek shelter, especially in our late winter, Brazil’s late summer. We had heard this, but to experience it was a different thing. We went from bright sun and blue skies to something dark and foreboding sliding up and around the mountains. This wasn’t just dark. It was an all-encompassing blackness that seemed to suck away the light. Only the massive bolts of lightning were able to pierce this Stygian tenebrosity. We stopped off to the side, and three of us looked for our fourth... brother Milton, who was riding a bit back, but did not pull up to us when we stopped. Mario looked at us and, trying to yell over the tempest, saying something like … “I think there is a tavern up that hill! I will go up and see. Wait here!” I saw his taillight go up and fade away in the storm. Thunder that sounded like small atomic bombs shook us, and lightning was striking trees and power lines. It was beyond anything in which I had ever ridden. Mario did not come back. I could see where he was talking about, and I told Shira just to wait a few minutes, and I would go up and see if we could shelter there.

I rode up the hill, and a small open-air bar was indeed there. There was a bar, the soaked and slick tile patio, and a pool table…with a BMW GS and really pissed off Brazilian wedge underneath. Mario had run into a “unintended consequence.”

In the darkness, Mario had ridden into the wide-open bar, and the ice-slick tiles took the BMW down in a flash, and he was stuck under the table.

I got off my bike and helped pull him out, and it was easier to move the table than to pull the GS out, so that is what we did. I ran down and told Shira to just head up the hill, and I rode her 650 up to the tavern. Right about then, the storm really hit. Like it was not bad enough already. A lightning strike hit the pole above the tavern. There was another small nuke bang, and a flash, and everything went dead.

The two women who were running the bar were just taking it all in, and with the

realization that we were not going anywhere soon, poured Cachaça for us all. About 20 minutes later, the sun began to pour back to this part of the planet, and we watched as this petulant storm made its way east, looking like a giant-sized Smoke Monster from Lost. When we came back down the hill – soaked, and amazed, Milton came rolling up – being the older and wiser of the brothers, he had taken shelter right away, and it was all I could do but tell him how his brother ended up under a pool table; but I guess he will know now. Sorry, Mario – statute of limitations here in the US in not unintended.

The Haboob

This might have a funny sound to it, but haboobs are very real and just a bit frightening. Just seeing images of these massive sand and dust storms can invoke that feeling of dread… but maybe a bit more for us after getting bashed by one of these sandy brown blizzards. To give you an idea of what we’re talking about here, picture a massive wall of sand, dust, and debris blocking out everything, and bringing your vision down to less than zero. Haboobs are formed by strong thunderstorm downdrafts, often reaching heights of thousands of feet, widths of many miles, and speeds over 60 mph.

You would think this was somewhere in the Middle East, Morocco, or such, but no… it was on the way to Vegas, baby!

We had picked up some Suzukis on the California coast a few days earlier, and were going to the AIMExpo Motorcycle Industry Convention, making our way through Death Valley when we hit the beginning of some very strong winds. It was pretty much unrideable, and we had waited an hour or two in Panamint Springs. When the wind abated, we continued onward, and as we rode out of Pahrump, Nevada, I could see “it” coming over the Red Rocks to the east. “It” was an enormous wall of sand, and it came at us like an angry lion and quickly moved towards us to envelope our bikes.

It was scary as shit, but made a great cover shot.

We slowed down to a crawl. A car coming the other way appeared, as if by magic, to our left side, slowed, and as it rolled by, the woman driving lowered her window and yelled to us that we better get off the road… “You are in danger!”.

Then suddenly she was gone, her SUV swallowed up by the blowing sand.

We rolled on at a snail’s pace and then, as suddenly as it had come, it was behind us. We stopped and took a bit to gather ourselves. Both bikes and our Aerostich suits were coated in a fine layer of white dust and sand. When we got to Vegas, and were on the line to get our rooms, folks were coming up to asking if we actually rode to Vegas that day. It seems Shira and I were one of the few that actual rode to a motorcycle convention. This Vegas storm, and the haboobs, were noted in news stories around the planet that night. Like Brazil, it certainly was not what we had planned, but this unintended consequence makes a hell of a story now.

The 1%

I am not talking outlaw biker clubs here. I once had a chat with a woman that told me that “Almost everybody will take advantage of you and try to rip you off.” I was saddened to hear this from her as, in my experience, most of the people in the world will, if given a chance, help someone out.

Some might be more willing than others, but in my mind, the numbers go something like 70% will more than help you, 20% will help if they have too, and the rest seem to get less and less friendly and useful. Then there is the wacky 1% that are just evil. They are out there, so remember that. In all our travels, we have only had to deal with bad a handful of times. Were pick-pocketed in Santiago, Chile, and that was not at all fun. But looking back there was a lot we learned about US Embassies, and how fortunate we are to be citizens. But the really bad can be violent – especially if they think they can be just that, and get away with it.

Case in point happened very early on in our Backroads adventures. We were riding on the roads north of San Francisco, and it was around dusk. Meandering up along some forested road, a pick-up truck pulled out of a rest area and immediately began to tailgate us. I spotted him, pulled to the right, and he rode past us, blaring his horn. I shrugged, but I think Shira might have done a bit more. She’s from Cliffside Park, New Jersey, and you would expect no less.

A few miles later, as we passed another pullout, I saw lights come on in my mirror, and that same truck was behind us, and he was not trying to say hello. He was looking to say goodbye. Not good.

The next ten minutes were nerve-wracking as he’d roll up behind us flashing his lights, still on his horn, and began to toy with us. Little did I know Shira was continuing to express her Jersey Girl feelings to him, and when I realized that, I told her to cut it out, and had her hold a bit tighter and did the Marc Marquez thing to him and went about putting more and more distance between us. (This was years back, and Marc was probably in kindergarten) I was far faster on this new BMW than he was in that old Chevy. In a short

time, I found what I was looking for … a town. Strength in numbers. The first strip mall I spotted I rolled into, and I pulled the BMW into a deep and tight pocket, between two parked cars. Not surprisingly, this guy had followed us up into the lot, and kinda boxed himself in traffic-wise with another car coming in right behind him. I was off the bike in a flash and at his door, opening it before this very drunk fellow could get out with the baseball bat he was stretching for. The cab reeked of booze and pot, and even more alarming his pants were undone. WTF? I dissuaded him from further belligerence, and we asked a gathering crowd for the police to be called, as this man was very drunk, and maybe hurt. With Law Enforcement on the way, we quietly …disappeared. We had enough excitement for the night and had miles to go. Although we think of ourselves as good people, after that evening, we try to treat everyone we came across with a scoodge more respect and courtesy.

Those Unintended Consequences again – for everyone involved.

The Good… and there is so much of that to be found

On a more uplifting note… Three years ago, a bunch of friends, Shira, and I were stuck high atop an Andean Mountain. Our tour had brought us up and over this peak on a two-track, rutted road, at dusk in the rain. Even though we were gaining altitude, things were going downhill at a rapid pace. We had passed a small village called Chiriyacu, near the summit, and on the far side of the mountain, the road was gone. Not closed. Gone. A mudslide a quarter mile wide had buried our way off the mountain. We were forced to turn around and head back up to the little village we had passed miles back. A gaggle of Americans pulling into a tiny Andean mountain village, late at night, gets some attention. In this case, I do believe the entire town came out to see what all the hubbub was about. Our friends from Freedom Ecuador explained our predicament to the town elders. Words were quietly spoken amongst the townsfolk, and a fire was built. Small children began to peek around corners to see us. Some of the teenagers came to see the bikes, and soon the town went from silent to a small fiesta, with music filling the square from an ancient boom box. The air was alight with the smell of food being prepared, as they cooked us all a meal of chicken and rice, suddenly there were cold beers, soda, and

some sort of clear liquor in an unmarked bottle, which truly seemed to settle nerves down.

These kind people opened up their small town-center for us to bed down for the night, and come sunrise, they made us breakfast before we went to ride off the mountain.

Chiriyacu could have been one of the poorest places I have been, but it was overflowing with charity, goodness, and empathy for total strangers that rolled into their small village late on a stormy night. There is no gold in the world that can equal such a weight of benevolence and kindness. To this day, I am humbled by them. A bad vectoring decision, coupled with the storm and nightfall, and rain, mud and gravity caused major “Unintended Consequences,” but one that will always leave us smiling.

Final Round of MotoGP at Valencia 2006 – Nicky

In mid-October of 2006, the season had begun to wear down in the northeast, and the opportunity do some riding in Spain and Portugal was presented to us. We took advantage of the kindness offered by our friend Scott Moreno of IMTBikes.

Scott and others were going to be heading east from Madrid towards Valencia, to attend the final races of the 2006 MotoGP season. A pair of tickets were ours for the taking, but there were others that wanted them as well. At this period in time, we were not as avid followers of MotoGP as we are now – perhaps this is what changed it for us.

We had planned and had our hearts set on Portugal – so they went east and we went west, thanking them for the offer. Our first few days saw a mix of sun and rain…mainly on the plain, but crossing into Portugal the weather got Biblical. In the tiny mountain town of Crato we took a room at the Pousada which was once the home of the Hospitaller Knights. That evening we gathered with the town who stood in awe at the usually docile cataract that had transformed into a monster waterfall, never before seen by the townspeople.

At dusk we retreated to the castle, and then spent a second day there as the tempest continued to pummel western Portugal. We had learned long ago that parking can be a good thing thing – especially when you’re staying at a castle.

But come day three, with no relief in sight, we began to look where the sun “would” be. Valencia.

A humble, “tail between the legs,” phone call was made. Could we still go. …The answer, yes… Scott still had the tickets.

Yes!.... So, we began to plot our course east across the Iberian Peninsula, and a few days later, we hooked up with Scott & Company at a roadhouse, more barrack than our comfortable keep in Portugal. Heck, it had soso bunk beds that would do, even if Shira had to sleep with 6 other men.

Heading to our first MotoGP at daybreak was amazing. Over 100,000 riders of every kind pushed their way in a somewhat politely controlled chaos. We had never seen such a gathering of motorcycles. It was a bit overwhelming… but nothing compared to what would happen during the race.

We had great seats – a small gaggle of American riders in a sea of Europeans and Spaniards. On each lap, as the lead group came by, I was trying to capture images of Rossi and Hayden. For sure, the Kentucky Kid had a chance at the championship after a season of solid finishes, but Rossi was the man. But something wild would have to occur for America to become the World Champ. After the fourth lap, I thought, “Put

then…then, just as I placed my Nikon down, Rossi crashed right in front of us. OMFG! The rest of the race was almost a blur, and Nicky Hayden finished 3rd, but took the MotoGP World Championship.

The crowd went wild… and not one Spaniard, when realizing we were Americans, did not come up to congratulate us on the win… as if we had anything to do with it.

To top the whole day, as if this wasn’t enough, we had a ride,

the camera down…watch the race.” Nicky was already ahead of Rossi, and the race and championship were suddenly far tighter than anyone would have thought.

The machines came by us for the fourth time and

through the mountains at night in the rain, to get to our lodgings, a beautiful Spanish castle. As soon as we walked in, Scott brought us to the bar, dripping wet, looked for a moment and pointed to a bottle. ‘Shots all around!’ he yelled. It was a most wonderful toast with Kentucky bourbon.

It was an amazing bit of motorcycle history to be part of and something that we smile quietly to ourselves every time Nicky Hayden’s name is brought up when talking MotoGP… it was the ultimate, and coolest, of unintended consequences. We came to ride Portugal, but instead saw the last American crowned as MotoGP Champion.

Riding motorcycles is unlike any other mode of transportation. Sure, it can bring us from here to there, but it is the miles in between, the journey, where the memories are made. Indeed, plans are made, but the willingness to go to Plan B, C, and beyond will get you where you need to be and give you enough stories for a lifetime. ~ Brian Rathjen

BACKROADS BOOK CLUB

Connected by the Street: The Myths and Realities of Motorcyclists in the USA and Italy by Wendy

Pojmann

If you have ever spent some time and ridden motorcycles in Europe, you must be aware that the perception of motorcycles and motorcycle riders, by the general public, is far different over there than here in the United States.

We have always felt that motorcycles are an inherent part of Italian and European culture. In Europe… everyone has a few riders in the family. It is just the way it is. But, not here in the United States. Are we not all the “wild and black sheep” part of our families? The crazy uncle or aunt who rides motorcycles? Let us ask you this – when non-riding people meet you and find out you ride, how many times have they had to tell you about a cousin, whose best friend’s uncle, thrice-removed, met his demise on a bike? All the time, right?

That rarely happens in Italy, or elsewhere on the continent.

The differences in the moto culture, and the way we riders are perceived in the USA, compared to Europe and elsewhere, have long been a conundrum for us… Author Wendy Pojmann, who lives her life in both New York State and Italy, dives deep into why this is and how it came about in her book Connected by the Street

With a very unique layout, with facing pages in both English and Italian, Connected by the Street: The Myths and Realities of Motorcyclists in the USA and Italy is more than a book about motorcycles—it’s a cultural history that challenges stereotypes and reveals what riding really means on both sides of the Atlantic. It traces more than a century of motorcycling, uncovering how myths of danger, freedom, and rebellion have shaped public perceptions and how motorcyclists themselves define their community. From the shared beginnings of the American and Italian motorcycle industries to their sharp divergence after World War II, the book explores the riders, the roads, and the machines that carry different meanings in each culture.

We found this an excellent read, with some wonderful insights from riders both here and in Italy. The book touches, in a well-written and insightful way, how Hollywood and the media have shaped the motorcycle culture in the United States, and created the way Americans think and feel about motorcycles; and how World War II and its economic aftermath pushed Italy, and other parts of Europe, into a different paradigm when it came to riding motorcycles. Italy had Roman Holiday with Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck on a Vespa. We had the The Wild Ones with Marlon Brando – ironically riding a British Triumph Thunderbird 6T. Italians, and the world, kept that Roman Holiday thought, and suddenly, in the US, the outlaw, bad boy persona was born and exists till this day. If we are not Sons of Absence of any Form of Authority, then bikers are assassins with mini-machine guns on naked sport bikes. Where is Jim Bronson when we need him?

The book also highlighted how some Italians have embraced (in an odd way) the Outlaw Biker 1% Culture, as well as how some American riders have embraced Italy’s machines from a completely different thought pattern. In one book, Wendy Pojmann covers a lot of ground.

This is a very different motorcycle book, but one we were glad to have read and digested. It is pricey as moto-books go ($60), but if you have a decent moto library/book collection, Connected by the Street needs to be part of it. Find it at www.parigibooks.com

Metti in moto il motore!

The following is a disclaimer we have been told by our Texas attorney Pepi T. Monkey to have you read.

For those of you who have come to expect, nay demand, that we give you some dirt…well, the only dirt we wanna give you is we will try to keep things paved this year. Truly.

But it is West Virginia, and its many HARP, orphaned, and unpaved gravel roads make up a whopping 47% of its 35,000 miles of roadway.

Only Vermont has a higher percentage with half their roads gravel and not paved.

We got you very dirty there too, remember.

But here is the thing…

Deep inside your helmet, very deep inside, is a most wonderful miracle of creation. No one knows how it really works, but we hope yours is working well. It’s your brain; and, if or when, one of routes suddenly decided to do a Lo Duca on you, you can fire up that brain of yours and say…NOPE! Then use those Ibn Battuta-like skills you have to get back on the route later. It’s the adventure part of the logo.

But, with wordy disclaimer out of the way, let’s talk about a few of the routes we have crafted this time around for the ‘By God’ state.

As usual, we like to offer some day trip suggestions to those who are coming along with us later this month as we spend a few days discovering some of the sights and exploring the backroads of the Mountain State of West ‘By God’ Virginia.

O’Life’s Mummies, Mounds & Maniacs • 272 Miles backroadsmagazine.transfernow.net/dl/MummiesMoundsManiacs

This full day’s ride will first head through the town of Philippi. It was here that the first land battle of the American Civil War happened on June 3, 1861. This month’s Big City Getaway has a most unusual story on that; but O’Life will have you stop to meet two girls he knows. You have never met girls like these two.

In 1888, Graham Hamrick, a farmer and self-proclaimed scientist, purchased two female cadavers at what is now called the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum. For several years, Hamrick worked to perfect his own em-

balming technique on vegetables, fruits, and various animals. He wanted to test his methods on the two cadavers in hopes that he could emulate the successful methods performed by the ancient Egyptians. Up to this point, the story sounds like something found in a horror movie, but miraculously, Hamrick was successful.

Hamrick’s experiments went on to have quite illustrious careers, if there is such a thing for mummies. They toured with P.T. Barnum’s circus around the world, and eventually, they caught the eye of the Smithsonian Insti-

tution. When approached by the Smithsonian Institution, Hamrick had a choice to make – he could let the Institution display the mummies, but he would be forced to reveal his mummification methods to them. Hamrick decided not to reveal his secrets, and the mummies were returned to Philippi. The mummies were seemingly forgotten for years before being discovered safe in an old barn. A local Philippi resident took ownership of them, and as legend tells it, he kept them under his bed for quite some time. In the 1990s, a flood swept through Philippi, leaving the mummies waterlogged and covered in fungus. A local man was able to clean and preserve the mummies, and they were finally transported to the Barbour County Historical Museum, where they can be found today.

The Meredith Tunnel in Fairmont

If you really think you need a good walk, there is the Meredith Tunnel, 1,200 feet long, and in great shape, which is part of the Marion County Rail Trail. It burrows beneath Speedway Avenue, Morgantown Avenue, and Suncrest Boulevard. The tunnel was built in 1914 by the Monongahela Railroad. The beginning of the rail trail is off Winfield Street.

Or you can just head through the town on Route 310, and continue north on Route 250 for 66 awesome two-lane mountain asphalt all the way to the Ohio River at Moundsville.

Grave Creek Mound

According to Seymour, this is real native American history, and one you rarely read about, but in his column, the Gravecreek Mound Complex.

The site of one of the most famous and largest of the Adena burial mounds in North America. Artifacts and exhibits interpreting the lifestyle of the Adena people are dis-

played in the museum, adjacent to the 2,000-year-old mound, and this is well worth some time exploring.

The ride will then head south along the Ohio River, and we’ll have lunch at Big Foot Hot Dogs in New Martinville. Is this place really owned by Big Foot, bought on all the $$$ from the images he’s sold over the year? Maybe…

Although the name of the restaurant is just about as much of a mystery as Sasquatch’s location, enthusiasts, believers, and advocates will stop by for the namesake and stay for the food. O’Life dares you to eat the Footlong Dog - a quarter-pound hot dog which fills up two regular hot dog buns. By the time lunch is done, you will believe.

Heading back east and into the mountains, O’Life’s route will run some 75 miles or so on Route 20, then 19 to Weston.

If we have not given you enough to feel as if you have ridden through the Backroads of Mysterious America, then let’s get to the third M in Mummies, Mounds, and Maniacs.

Welcome to the…

Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum

Yes, the very place where Hamrick got the women would become the Mummies of Philippi. This is a very intense place. Its history is dark, at times, inhuman…but it still stands, and is the second largest building made

from hand-cut stone in the world, second only to the Kremlin in Russia. Although the building was large, it was originally intended to house around 250 patients. 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. It is one of the most haunted places in the USA. How nice. From here, we shoot back to the hotel and have a great evening with many miles done and tall tales to tell.

Rathjen’s Big Paved West Virginia Route • 300 miles backroadsmagazine.transfernow.net/dl/BigPavedWVLoop

We’d like to say that this route has as many points of interest as O’Life’s M/M/M ride, but it has one objective: 300 miles of the best Backroads in West Virginia.

Sure, there will be the mandatory Monster Quest stops… but we get them all done in one town, Sutton, with a Bigfoot and the Flatwoods Monster Museum, but before and after that, just 1.5 million feet of superb West Virginian pavement.

Ride Far. Ride Smart. Ride the Backroads!

In addition, here are the download links to our other SUGGESTED rides for this Spring Break Rally.

Shippensburg to Tygart Hotel – 235 miles backroadsmagazine.transfernow.net/dl/ShippensburgElkins

Elkins to Shippensburg – 245 miles backroadsmagazine.transfernow.net/dl/ElkinsShippensburg

140 mile Moe Fatz/Orange Cat Café Loop backroadsmagazine.transfernow.net/dl/OrangeCatCafe

Almost Heaven Swings North – 170 miles backroadsmagazine.transfernow.net/dl/SwingsNorth

Almost Heaven Swings South – 225 miles backroadsmagazine.transfernow.net/dl/SwingsSouth

All .gpx file download links in this issue are available for download on the Backroads Rip ‘n Ride Vault webpage

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

to the Jungle - The Art of Learning to Ride Skillfully

PeRcePTion ii

A column dedicated to your riding survival

We are regarded and treated according to the way people think of us. Although we have been told to never judge a book by its cover, we do anyway. This is just a bit of human nature that we all deal with daily. Most times, we will look at the kindly elderly lady walking slowly through the supermarket with a kind, altruistic, and watchful eye… until you hear her on her cell phone telling somebody to F%#k off!

That’ll have you reconsider quickly, as you will get out of her way. On the other end, I have seen guys that I would not fight with a bazooka, and watch as they stop to help somebody whose bags just split open outside Shoprite. It is all perception, and the perception that most Americans have of us is not all that good, kids.

Like Wendy Pojmann pointed out in Connected by the Street, the media did this – and then, I think, half of American riders embraced it… if even in a light way.

Sunday cruiser dress code almost demands the black leather vests and half helmet. I am not picking on just the cruiser crowd here. Sport Bike riders, with the $700 helmet and $5 Haines tee-shirt flapping in the wind as they lane-split at 1,000 miles per hour, do not help either. We hope that it is at least a “Beefy” tee.

Where are the good guys in American media and culture? They were once there.

SCUBA can thank a lot of its popularity to Mike Nelson and Sea Hunt. Many of us might have been bitten by the Travel, Motorcycle & Adventure Bug when we first saw Jim Bronson heading up the coast of California – a universe away from Woodside, Queens, for this 11-year-old kid. Yes, Reno Raines was a bad ass… but still a good guy in Renegade. Nope, today most media show us as anarchistic outlaws, or two-wheeled killers.

But, there is a glimmer of hope – especially with American commercials. Who doesn’t want to hang with Flo, Jamie, and the rest of the Prog Gang… sorry, club. Even when they poke fun at us, it still makes me nod my head in agreement. ‘Cause it really isn’t “just” a motorcycle, and Alan should bring his bike everywhere. Then there is the Vabysmo ad that has a granddaughter taking grandma for a spirited ride across the desert. Grandma even has an outlaw-ish jacket that has a rocker across it heralding “Improved Eyesight.” Cool grandkid – and at least, for 60 seconds, the young are actually riding. Rinvoq has a strong woman who is not letting rheumatoid arthritis slow her down, or from kick-starting that Thumper, getting that motor runnin’, and heading down the highway. There is another drug company that finishes with a gent swimming in a beautiful stone canyon lake, his bike on the shore. But let’s not forget the rider that is tooling along, half of him in full black leathers (of course - let’s not stray too far from that ‘bella figura’), the other half in his undies. Coverage… I get it.

But the perception shown is amazing. One side looks like a fairly normal guy, the other…Ummm, where is that bazooka?

The greatest commercial with motorcycles in it is from Taiwan’s TC Bank, about a group of five seasoned men, average age 81. They rode together maybe a half century back, and are fading, they have all rounded third and heading towards home… and they know it. Then at a quiet lunch, celebrating the life of one of them now gone, one of them slams a picture of them from back in the day on the table and yells…

“Let’s Ride Motorcycles!” It tugs at a rider’s heart… but the greatest thing about this is that it is a true story. Five octogenarians, 13 days, and 700 miles.

If you have never seen it, search it out on YouTube.

It’ll grab you, and twist you a bit – but in a good way. Really.

Welcome to the Jungle was started as a column “Dedicated to your Riding Survival.” Maybe the most important thing is to get out and ride… like our Taiwanese riders, if you don’t ride, you have nothing for which to survive. ,