SIG Alert

By Joe Berk

No, I’m not talking about the SIG Alerts we get here in California when there’s a traffic jam on our freeways.  This is about a sale at SARCO, a preferred military surplus outlet, on SIG police department trade-ins.  When police departments upgrade to different weapons, they sometimes sell their older handguns.  That’s what’s happening here.  What makes this sale special, in my opinion, is that the trade-in guns are 9mm SIG P226 sidearms.  You follow the blog, and you know that I consider the SIG P226 to be the world’s finest handgun.  With a SARCO price on the P226 at just over $700, I think it’s a great deal.

My SIG P226. I consider it to be the world’s finest handgun.

I’ve never seen SIG P226 police trade-in guns for sale.  It’s a hell of an opportunity to pick up a great handgun at a bargain price.   I once owned a Smith and Wesson Model 659 police trade-in and it confirmed what I thought about police sidearms.  They are carried a lot and shot very little.  That means there might be some cosmetic shortfalls (holster wear, etc.), but the guns’ internals are probably in superb shape.

A Smith and Wesson Model 659 police trade in that was a lot of fun. Like most police sidearms, it was carried a lot and shot little.

I’ve purchased military surplus equipment through SARCO before (in my case it was a replacement gas cylinder for my M1 Garand, which fixed my rifle’s cycling issue).  SARCO is a reputable outfit.

SARCO’s SIG P320 police trade-in pistols.

SARCO is also selling SIG P320 police trade-ins.  I don’t have any experience with that model, so I can’t tell you anything about it (other than that it’s SIG, so it’s probably good).  The SARCO price on the SIG P320 police trade-in is only $425; that’s a superb deal.

What might be fun is to pick up either handgun from SARCO and send it to good buddy TJ (at TJ’s Custom Gunworks) for a full cosmetics and action job.  That would be fun.  If you have ever entertained any thoughts about picking up a SIG or a custom pistol, this might worth looking into.


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The Doobies

Good buddy Bob Orabona, a fellow rider and shooter, sent in this story about his encounter with one of the Doobie Brothers.  I think you’ll enjoy it.


By Bob Orabona

My best Doobie Brothers story ever goes like this.  It was around December of 1979. Here in Los Angeles we had a motorcycle toy run that was huge. About 10,000 to 13,000 motorcycles would go from Griffith Park to Pasadena. What a roar!!

Well, that year the organizers decided that in addition to the toy run they would put on a “Veterans Christmas Run” that would be a much smaller affair but the same general idea. You show up at a location on your bike with gifts for the Vets who are in the West LA Veterans Hospital and do a run.

My riding bud at that time was Russ Bromley and we made plans to attend. The morning of I showed up at his pad and he and his girl Sue and I rode off to the Harley dealer in Marina Del Rey. That was the starting point.

After a while we got the ride up and about 300 bikes left the dealership headed to the West LA Vets Hospital. When we got there they had a stage set up in the parking lot and a collection point for all the gifts. The run was very well supported by sponsors and Harley Davidson was there with their traveling museum and several other groups with various types of displays. Hugh Heffner sent over about 8 “Bunnies” to help colllect and distribute the gifts. A band was playing and it was a great scene with a really positive vibe.

After the band stopped playing there was an emcee telling us how much stuff was collected, etc., etc., and then he introduced an official from Harley. The Harley guy told the crowd that Harley wanted to do something really special at this run, so they were going to introduce their newest model for the first time anywhere. It was called the “Sturgis” and it was notable for being the first belt drive Harley.

At the appropriate moment, and after sufficent build up, about 10 of the new bikes came riding into the lot and were put on display. The crowd surged forward and oooed and aahhed over them. I didn’t go with them because I don’t like crowds and I  was probably very hung over which was my natural state of being on Sunday mornings in those days (that’s a whole other story best left for another time).

I waited for the crowd to disperse and finally went over and was examining the bikes. I latched on to a factory rep who was the only one still hanging with the bikes and started to ask him a bunch of questions. How long does the belt last? How do you change it? What if it breaks on the road?

Well, this guy was right with it and knew just about all the answers to all my questions. I had noticed while looking at the bike he was sitting on that above the tank emblem someone had painted on “The Doobie Bros.” When I ran out of tech questions I just happened to casually ask him “Hey, how come it says “The Doobie Bros” on your tank?”

Thats when the “factory rep” looked at me and said “Uh, I’m Patrick Simmons and I play guitar for them.” Duh!!!!!! I thought he looked kinda familiar.


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The Sam and Alfreda Maloof Foundation

Wow, talk about exclusivity:  It just doesn’t get any better than this.  That rocking chair you see in the photo above?  It’s from the Sam Maloof shop and the lead time is about 6 years.  Order it today, and 72 months from now, you would be able to rock out in it.  I’ll tell you more a little further down in this blog, but first, we have to start with the Sam Maloof story.

Dubbed “The Hemingway of Hardwood” by People magazine, Sam Maloof (1916-2009) was an artist in the world of furniture making.  Jimmy Carter and Ronald Reagan sat on rocking chairs crafted by Maloof, and his work is on display in the Smithsonian, New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, and the Philadelphia Museum of Art (to name but a few).  His home and workshop are now a museum, too, and the best news is that it is a very short motorcycle ride from my home.  Although I’ve been in California for close to 50 years, I only recently visited the Sam and Alfreda Maloof Foundation for Arts and Crafts.  It was impressive.  Don’t do what I did and wait 50 years to go see it.  Go now.  It’s a 5 1/2 acre slice of heaven, and if you enjoy viewing true artistry in wood, you’ll love it.  I sure did.

Our tour of the Sam and Alfreda Maloof Foundation included the Maloof home, the gallery, several landscaped acres sprinkled with contemporary outdoor art, and a peek into the shop (which still produces museum quality wood furniture).  It’s easy to get to.  From the 10 or 210 freeways in southern California, exit either Vineyard (off the 10) or Carnelian (off the 210) and go north (Vineyard becomes Carnelian as you head north).  Just follow the road until you can’t go any further and look right.  You’ll have arrived.

We toured the original Maloof home and the craftsmanship built into the place is impressive.  I was able to grab several photos, and my Nikon and it’s 16-35mm wide angle zoom did what it is supposed to do.

A woodworker’s paradise. Artistly in wood is everywhere in the Maloof home. Check out the spiral staircase.
The Maloof home contains tables and chairs exhibiting a blend of artistry and functionality. Maloof used an oil finish on his furniture. I’ve used the same on rifle stocks. It brings out the wood’s natural beauty and can be easily repaired if scratched.
A Maloof rocking chair. Maloof preferred to work in walnut.
A bedroom in the Maloof home. If you order a Maloof chair or other furniture, there’s a six year lead time. The only exceptions are baby rockers, which you see in the center of this photo. If you need a baby rocker, your kid won’t fit six years later, so the shop stops all other projects and focuses on completing your baby rocker.
A Maloof table and chairs. Notice that the side chairs are joined together. We saw one that sat three at a dinner table. That doesn’t seem practical to me, but hey, no one is waiting six years for anything I make.
One of many beautiful rooms in the Maloof home.

The Maloof estate consists of several building and gardens mentioned above.  The Maloof shop continues to build custom furniture in the Sam Maloof style.

A glimpse into the wood shop.

We next visited the gallery, which is where I saw the rocking chair that is at the top of this blog.   I like to think I appreciate fancy wood, and that chair had my attention.  I asked a docent if it was English walnut, but I was way off.  It’s a wood called Ziricote, and it comes from Belize.  I’d never seen anything like it.  As mentioned earlier, Sam Maloof preferred to work in walnut, and I understand that.   Highly figured walnut is, well, art before anything is done to it.  But that Ziricote.  Wow!

This is a chair that belongs in a well stocked custom gun room. It would fit in well.

As it turns out, when I asked about the wood I was speaking with a very pleasant woman name Joanne, and that rocking chair was hers.  Joanne’s husband Mike worked with Sam Maloof and he is continuing the tradition, along with his son.  Mike made that chair for Joanne as a birthday gift.  That, my friends, is one fine gift.

The figure almost looks fake, but it’s real.
Lumber that is exceptional from any angle.
I can’t remember what I bought Sue for her 60th birthday.
After seeing the home and the gallery, Sue and I walked through the gardens.  The grounds were impressive and the outside art was, too.
A real flower in the Maloof gardens.
An egg as tall as me. It would be a hoot to have an Easter egg hunt in the Maloof gardens.
This piece is presented as an alternative take on Mr. Rushmore.
Made of natural materials, this piece looks like a skeleton from the movie, “Alien.”
Everywhere you go in California these days, someone has their hand out.
Sue grabbed a photo of me as I was photographing the Maloof grounds artwork.

The next morning, I found myself thinking about that Ziricote rocking chair.  Man, I would love to have one of those.  So I called the shop and asked about it.  Yep, there’s that 6-year lead time issue I mentioned above, but that wasn’t the obstacle for me.  To duplicate the Ziricote rocker, it would take a cool $28,000.  I could cheap out and get one in finely figured walnut; that would drop the price to $22,500.  It’s tempting, and as you know, I am a sucker for fine walnut.  Maybe if you guys clicked on more of those popup ads…


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A Custom .22 Magnum Colt Paterson Conversion

By Joe Berk

Here’s another fascinating custom revolver that showed up in our Uberti Facebook page.  It’s from good buddy Steve, who sent additional photos and is allowing us to use the story here on ExNotes.  Here’s what Steve shared with me:

I have an original Paterson in its original configuration of .36 caliber (I mean an original Uberti Paterson, of course).  I searched for years for a way to buy a conversion cylinder for it.  I stumbled across this and could not pass it up.

A little history on this one…the way it was converted was the gunsmith milled down a Harrington and Richardson .22 barrel and sleeved it into the Paterson barrel.  Then he used standard .22 Magnum sleeves in the cylinder  The loading ramp was milled such that it pins the base of the round in, so there was no need for a loading gate.

The barrel and frame are actually the original blue steel.  The gunsmith dip stripped the parts then meticulously polished them to a bright shine.  I just keep it well oiled.


Steve, your .22 Magnum Paterson is a great looking gun.  Thanks for allowing us to share it here.   For our ExNotes readers, the Paterson was the original Colt revolver patented by Samuel Colt in 1836.  The revolvers are called Patersons because they were manufactured in Paterson, New Jersey.  Colt built these and then went bankrupt and shut the gun business down.  He unsuccessfully pursued other business interests and then was contacted by Captain Samuel Walker of the Texas Rangers, who had used Colt Patersons against the Comanches to great effect.  Captain Walker told Samuel Colt about that and how he thought the revolver was a very effective weapon, and the two Sams (Colt and Walker) designed the 1847 Colt Walker, which we’ve written about before.

If you’re wondering why Steve’s Uberti Colt Paterson replica appears to have no trigger, it’s because the trigger retracts into the frame.  It extends when the revolver is cocked.  That design was eliminated on the Colt Walkers, which had what we now view as a normal trigger and trigger guard.  The Paterson did not have the loading lever common to later Colt blackpowder revolvers, which greatly slows the Paterson loading process.

Uberti no longer lists the Paterson in its menu of reproductions (I’ve already checked, as posting this blog whet my appetite for a Paterson reproduction).  Pietta (another reproduction revolver Italian manufacturer) does, but they show the Paterson as out of stock.  These replicas sell for big bucks when they come on the market (typically for something in the $750 to $1000 range), but that’s trivial to what an original Colt Paterson would bring.  Those have fetched a million bucks.

Another bit of trivia…you may think you’ve never seen Paterson, New Jersey, but if you watched The Sopranos (an HBO crime drama TV series currently available on MAX and set in New Jersey), you’ve probably seen Paterson a few times and not known it.  There are at least a couple of Sopranos scenes at the falls in Paterson (one in which Mikey Palmici throws a guy off a bridge, and another where Hesh threatens to do the same).  Ah, New Jersey…I’ve never been to Paterson, but the next time I’m back in the Garden State I’m going to hit some of the spots featured on The Sopranos.  When I do, I’ll post it here on ExNotes.


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This Just In From Janus Motorcycles

By Joe Berk

This press release just came in last week and I wanted to share it with our ExNotes readers.  I’ve been traveling or I would have posted it sooner.


TWO MIDWEST BRANDS HAVE COME TOGETHER FOR THE ULTIMATE ADVENTURE

DULUTH PACK + JANUS MOTORCYCLES TO DEBUT LIMITED EDITION MOTORCYCLES AND RIDING BAGS


To celebrate the partnership and collaboration, the brands are co-hosting a launch party at the Duluth Pack flagship retail store in Duluth, Minnesota.

DULUTH, MINN –– Wed May 1st, 2024 – Two Midwest companies focusing on old-school techniques, Duluth Pack and Janus Motorcycles have teamed up to create a collection of expertly crafted riding bags and a one-of-a-kind motorcycle called, “The Rambler Edition”. The collaboration embodies the same ethos of rooted appreciation for the outdoors, and both preserving history with traditional and historic manufacturing techniques. American-Made gear and equipment that is built with purpose for the long-haul. Now the best of both have emerged with “The Rambler Edition”. To kick-off the highly anticipated collection, both brands are co-hosting a launch party on Friday, May 3rd at Duluth Pack’s flagship retail store in Canal Park, Duluth, MN.

The event will be from 2:00 PM – 7:00 PM CST with raffles and giveaways provided by Duluth Pack and Janus Motorcycles every hour during the event. Attendees will be able to be the first to shop the exclusive and limited-edition styles of Duluth Pack bags and the vintage crafted Janus Motorcycle. The collection focuses on both brand’s DNA including colors of the original olive drab colorway and a partnership logo. Families, friends, locals, visitors, and motorcycle enthusiasts are all encouraged to come to the store to celebrate at the launch party.

“Our priority has always been and will always be on our quality and meeting our customer’s needs. The focus of the Rambler Edition collaboration between Duluth Pack and Janus Motorcycles is providing the aesthetic and functionally our customers want and expect from both of our companies,” said Tom Sega, Duluth Pack’s President and CEO. “Both of our company’s products are built for a lifetime of adventures. Between Duluth Pack and Janus Motorcycles, we have a combined 154 years of American-Made history and that is something we are profoundly proud of.”

“This has been a project both Duluth Pack and Janus Motorcycles have been working on since 2021,” added Andrea Johnson, Duluth Pack’s Public Relations Contact. “The DNA of both brands breathes within this exclusive line and our entire team is very much looking forward to celebrating with our customers on Friday.” 

“The heritage of classic style and durable quality at Duluth Pack is an ideal fit for Janus’ classic motorcycles and we’re pleased to offer such a well-made product to our riders and customers. – Richard Worsham, Janus Motorcycles CEO

The Rambler Edition line will be exclusively available on Janus’ ecommerce site at janusmotorcycles.com.

For more information regarding the Rambler Edition Launch Party event at the Duluth Pack flagship store, please visit Duluth Pack’s social media pages (Facebook, Instagram, Twitter), visit DuluthPack.com or call the Duluth Pack Headquarters at (218) 722-3898.


So there you have it.  This program sounds like a winner from two of the heartland’s iconic brands.  For more on our ExNotes experiences with Janus Motorcycles, including a plant visit and a Baja blast, check out our Epic Rides page.


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The Autry Museum Colts

By Joe Berk

I haven’t been to the Autry Museum in Los Angeles since 2018 when I took the photos you see here.  I’ll get out there in the next few months.  It’s one of the great destinations in the Los Angeles area, and what makes the Autry even better for me is the extensive firearms display.

I found these photos when I was poking around a bit on an external hard drive.  For this blog, I’m including only the Colts in the Autry Museum.  I only photographed a few of firearms I saw there.  The Autry had more Colts, as well as Winchesters and other firearms on display.

The photos were a challenge.  Each of the guns you see here was behind glass, and the lighting was fairly dim in the firearms display area. I was using my D3300 Nikon with its standard 18-55mm lens, shooting at ISO settings of 800 to 3200.  These are not conditions conducive to capturing good images.  I did the best I could.

The sixgun you see in the photo above is an original Colt Walker, one of the one thousand guns Sam Colt manufactured for Sam Walker in 1847.  The last original Walker I know of that sold went for a million bucks.  We’ve mentioned the Colt Walker in an earlier ExNotes blog.  I bought the Uberti reproduction; the reproduction Uberti Walkers sell for just over $500.

The Autry Museum firearms collection features several Colt black powder revolvers.  In addition to the Walker up top, here are a two more I photographed.  The first one is a .36 caliber 1851 Colt Navy that belonged to Wild Bill Hickok.  The second is a .44 caliber 1860 Colt Army.  It’s quite fancy and it probably belonged to somebody famous, but I don’t know who (and that gives me a good excuse to get back out to the Autry Museum).

As you might imagine in a museum dedicated to the American West (and one carrying the name of a famous cowboy star like Gene Autry), the Colt 1873 Single Action Army revolver is well represented in this collection.

One of the 1873 Single Action Army revolvers on display at the Autrey Museum belonged to Theodore Roosevelt.  His initials are carved into the ivory grips.

There were also a few Colt double action revolvers:

In addition to the early Colt revolvers, there were three Colt Pythons:

This is a crop showing some of the engraving detail on the revolver above.

The Museum also displayed an engraved 1911 .45 Auto.  This 1911 was manufactured by Colt and several other manufacturers (as is the case even today; Colt still makes the 1911 and so do many other companies).  The 1911 shown here had the trigger guard cut away.  The idea behind removing the trigger guard is that it allows getting off a shot more quickly.   The modification is not something I’d want.

There was one more Colt I should mention:  A Bulldog Gatling gun.  Richard Jordan Gatling, the Gatling gun inventor, never operated his own factory.  All U.S. Gatlings were manufactured by Colt in Hartford, Connecticut.  They were also made under license in Russia military by the Orloff company.


Uberti replicas of the Colt Walker and the Colt 1873 Single Action Army.

We’ve done other blogs in the past on the Colt Walker and the Colt Single  Action Army (including the two replica revolvers you see in the photo above), other Colt black powder revolvers, and variations of the Gatling gun.  Those blogs are here.  You might also want to pick up our book on the Gatling gun.


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An Aldo Uberti Encounter

By Joe Berk

We recently started a Uberti Firearms Facebook group, and the response and growth has been phenomenal.  Within 10 days, membership grew to more than a thousand people.  One of those new members is my new good buddy RJ, a Uberti owner and Hollywood stunt man.  He posted an interesting story in the Facebook group, I asked if we could show it on ExNotes, and RJ graciously consented.  The photo RJ refers to is the one at the top of today’s blog.


Here’s a pic of my iron frame Henry.  I have a kind of a neat story how it came about.

In ’92 I was the armourer for “Buffalo Bills Wild West Show” at EuroDisney in Paris. I was constantly getting new guns and swapping guns out through our provider, a gun dealer in Paris.  Most times it was someone I knew but every once in a while a new guy made the delivery.

One evening before showtime, I had been prepping a 66 carbine and a delivery showed up, brought to us by an older new guy with several firearms. I had a yellow boy carbine spread over the work bench and I was stoning the parts.  The guy asked me what I was doing and I told him these guns are a little “clunky” when I get them and I have to smooth them up for the girls who played Annie Oakley. So he gave me a rundown on what he’s brought while I put the gun together.

I asked him how long he’s been with Maratiaee and he’s said he’s not; he’s just delivering and going to take in the show.  I introduced myself and said, “I’m RJ Preston.”  He said, “It’s a pleasure, Sir. I’m Aldo Uberti.”

Oh man, I just told Aldo Uberti his guns were clunky!!!!  It turned out we became good friends and I told him I would love one of the iron frame Henrys. He offered to build me one personally, so I told him that the iron frames all had three-digit serial numbers.  He said he had some three-digit frames set aside.

In about a month he asked which distributor I want the gun sent to in the United States.  My dad and Val at Navy Arms were friends and we had done business with Navy Arms since the mid-’60s.

I had to wait until I got back to the US to see it but what a peach:  No varnish, oil finished wood, under 300 serial number, an action smooth as butter, and with A.U. stamped on the inside of the right sideplate.  It was already sighted in and it was a tack driver. It came with a Uberti company envelope and the invoice said “NO BALANCE DUE” with a short note enclosed. “Here’s one that’s not clunky, enjoy.”

He was a great guy.  Rest in peace, Aldo.


What a story and what a rifle!  RJ, you are one lucky guy.  Thank you for sharing your story with us.


If you would like to join our ExhaustNotes.us Facebook group, it’s here.  If you would like to join our Facebook Uberti Firearms group, it’s here.


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The Wayback Machine: 7 Favorite Baja Destinations

Baja is a motorcycling paradise and I have a bunch of favorite destinations there.  Seven of them, to be precise, although truth be told, I like everything in Baja except for Tijuana and maybe La Paz and Loreto.  That said, my favorites are:

      • Tecate
      • San Quintin
      • Cataviña
      • Guerrero Negro
      • San Ignacio
      • Santa Rosalia
      • Concepcion Bay

Here’s where they are on a map:

So what’s so great about these places?  Read on, my friends.

Tecate

Tecate is the gateway to the middle of northern Baja, and it’s the easiest point of entry. Both Tijuana and Mexicali are too big and too complicated, and the Mexican Customs guys are too official in those bigger cities.  Tecate is a friendly place.  The last time I picked up a tourist visa in Tecate, the Customs officer tried to sell me salsa he and his family made as a side gig.  That’s what the place is like.  I love it.

If you’re into fine dining (not as in expensive dining, but just great food), it’s hard to go wrong anywhere in Baja.  Tecate has some of the best, from street taco vendors to Malinalli’s to Amore’s.  I could spend a week just in Tecate.  It’s that good.

Uncle Joe Gresh with street tacos in Tecate. Wow, were they ever good.
The buffet at Malinalli’s is regional, awesome, and inexpensive. It’s a hidden treasure.
Dos Joes’ motos on an Enfield expedition that took us through Tecate.
The Tecate brewery dominate the Tecate skyline and is visible from just about anywhere in town. A can of ice cold Tecate with sea salt around the rim and a bit of lime juice…life doesn’t get any better.

San Quintin

San Quintin is 186.4 miles south of the border on Baja’s Pacific coast.  It’s usually a quiet ag town that has a lot of things going for it, including interesting hotels, good food, and Bahia San Quintin.  The Old Mill hotel and its associated restaurant, Eucalipto, is my personal favorite.  The hotel is about 4 miles west of the Transpeninsular Highway, and what used to be a harrowing soft sand ride to it is now easy peasy…the road is paved and riding there is no longer a test of your soft sand riding skills.  The Eucalipto restaurant is second to none.

What could be better than an ice cold Tecate overlooking Bahia San Quintin after a day’s riding in Baja? We once saw a California gray whale from this very spot.

A man, a motorcycle, and Mexico….the sign on the Transpenisular Highway pointing toward Bahia San Quintin and the Old Mill Hotel. The bike? That’s the 650cc Royal Enfield, perfect for riding Baja. But then just about any motorcycle is perfect for riding Baja.
Bahia San Quintin at dawn. It’s an awesome spot.
Uncle Joe enjoying breakfast in the Old Mill’s Eucalipto. It is an exquisite restaurant.

You’ll notice at the top of my scribblings about San Quintin I said it is usually a quiet town.  The one exception for us was when there was a labor riot and we were caught in it.  The Mexican infantryman about 80 miles north of San Quintin told me the road was closed, but his English matched my Spanish (neither are worth a caca), and without me understanding what I was riding into, he let me proceed.  It’s not an experience I would care to repeat.  But it’s the only event of its type I ever experienced in Old Mexico, and I’d go back in a heartbeat.

The Cataviña Boulder Fields

Ah, Cataviña.  Rolling down the Transpeninsular Highway, about 15 miles before you hit the wide spot in the road that is Cataviña you enter the boulder fields.  Other-worldly is not too strong a description, and if the place wasn’t so far south of the border it would probably be used more often by Hollywood in visits to other planets.  The boulders are nearly white, they are huge, and the juxtaposition of their bulk with the bright blue sky punctuated by Cardon cactus.

Pastel geology. The area really is as beautiful as the photos depict it to be.

I get a funny feeling every time I enter this part of Baja. Not funny as in bad, but funny as in I feel like I’m where I belong.  I once rolled through this region in the early morning hours with my daughter and she told me “you know, it’s weird, Dad.  I feel like I’m home.”  She understood (as in completely understood) the magic that is Baja.

I like the area and its stark scenery so much that one of my photos became the cover of Moto Baja!  I grabbed that shot from the saddle at about 30 mph on a CSC 150 Mustang replica, which I subsequently rode all the way down to Cabo San Lucas (that story is here).

You should buy a copy or three. They make great gifts.

Every time I roll through Cataviña with other riders, the dinner conversation invariably turns to how the boulders formed.   When I was teaching at Cal Poly Pomona, I asked one of my colleagues in the Geology Department.  He know the area as soon as I mentioned it.  The answer?  Wind erosion.

Guerrero Negro

The Black Warrior.  The town is named after a ship that went down just off its coast.    It’s a salt mining town exactly halfway down the peninsula, and it’s your ticket in for whale watching and the best fish tacos in Baja (and that’s saying something).  I’ve had a lot of great times in Guerrero Negro.  It’s about 500 miles south of the border.  You can see the giant steel eagle marking the 28th Parallel (the line separating Baja from Baja Sur) a good 20 miles out, and from there, it’s a right turn for the three mile ride west into town.  Malarrimo’s is the best known hotel and whale watching tour, but there are several are they are all equally good.  It you can’t get a room at Malarrimo’s, try the Hotel Don Gus.

CSC RX3 motorcycles at the Hotel Don Gus. We used to do annual Baja tours with CSC…those were fun times and great trips, and introduced a lot of folks to the beauty of Baja.
What it’s all about…getting up close and personal with the California gray whales. They are in town from January through March.
Tony, taco chef extraordinaire. You might think I’m exaggerating. I’m not.
It’s worth the 500-miles trek to Guerrero Negro just to savor Tony’s fish tacos. You might think I’m exaggerating. But like I said above…I’m not.
Man does not live by fish tacos alone, so for breakfast or dinner, it’s either the restaurant at Malaririmo’s or the San Remedio, a block north of the main drag into town. You won’t be disappointed at either.
Sue’s photo of a Guerrero Negro osprey enjoying some sushi.

After you leave Guerrero Negro and continue south, the Transpeninsular Highway turns southeast to take you diagonally across the Baja peninsula. About 70 miles down the road (which is about half the distance to the eastern shores of Baja and the Sea of Cortez along Mexico Highway 1) you’ll see the turn for San Ignacio.  It’s another one of Baja’s gems.

San Ignacio

San Ignacio is an oasis in the middle of the desert that forms much of Baja.  The Jesuits introduced date farming to the region hundreds of years ago, and it’s still here in a big way.  Leave Guerrero Negro, head southeast on Mexico Highway 1, and 70 miles later you run into a Mexican Army checkpoint, a series of switchbacks through a lava field, and when you see the date palms, turn right.

An oasis is usually formed by a volcano, and when a volcano is done discussing politics, it forms a lake. That’s the San Ignacio volcano and its lake, visible on the left as you ride into town.
The San Ignacio church, built as a mission in the 1700s, dominates the center of San Ignacio. It’s a beautiful spot, one of the most photogenic in all of Baja.
Another photo of the San Ignacio Mission. You’ll want to grab some photos in San Ignacio.
Dates? Nope, not on that trip, but dates are one of the things San Ignacio is known for. I’ll bet they are delicious.

San Ignacio has a town square that’s right out of central casting, there’s a little restaurant that serves the best chile rellenos in all of Mexico (I’m not exaggerating), and the place just has a laid back, relaxing feel about it.

Santa Rosalia

You know, this town is another one of Baja’s best kept secrets.  As you travel south on Highway 1, San Ignacio is the first town you encounter after traveling diagonally across the peninsula.  Folks dismiss it because it’s an industrial town, but they do so in ignorance.  There’s a lot of cool stuff in this place.

The ride into Santa Rosalia a few years ago with novelist Simon Gandolfi, Arlene Battishill, J Brandon, John Welker, and yours truly. That’s a dead fish I’m holding.  We did a round trip to Cabo San Lucas on 150cc Mustang replicas, just to say that we could.

One of the things that’s unique about Santa Rosalia is the all-wooden architecture.  The town was originally built by a French mining company (Boleo) and they built it they way they did in France.  Like the Hotel Frances, which sits high on a mesa overlooking the town and the Sea of Cortez.  I love staying there.

The Hotel Frances. It used to be a brothel.

There’s a cool mining musuem a block or two away from the Frances, and it’s worth a visit, too.

The mining museum in Santa Rosalia.

There are many cool things in Santa Rosalia, and one of the best is the Georg Eiffel church.  It was designed by the same guy guy who did the Eiffel town.

Santa Rosalia’s church. It’s an unexpected delight.  And I’m not even Catholic.
Inside Santa Rosalia’s Georg Eiffel church.
Stained glass. Photos ops abound in Santa Rosalia.

I’ve heard people dismiss Santa Rosalia as a gritty, industrial place not worth a stop.   Trust me on this:  They’re wrong.  It’s one of my favorite Baja spots.

Bahía Concepción

Concepción Bay is easily the most scenic spot in Baja.  It’s just south of Mulege (another delightful little town, and the subject of an upcoming ExNotes blog).  Bahía Concepción runs for maybe 20 miles along the eastern edge of the Baja peninsula.  I’ve seen whales from the highway while riding along its edge, the beaches are magnificent, and the photo ops just don’t stop.  The contrast between the mountains and Cardon cactus on one side and the pelicans diving into bright green water is view from the saddle you won’t soon forget.

On one of many rides along Bahía Concepción, good buddy Joe Lee and yours truly rode our Triumph Triples. This is a favorite shot of mine.
Besides “wow,” what can I say?
World-famous novelist and motorcycle adventurer Simon Gandolfi andn yours truly on 150cc scooters. We were on our way back from Cabo San Lucas when we stopped for this Bahía Concepción photo.  Hardtail 150cc scooters.  Up and down the length of Baja.  I think about that ride every time I see a GS parked at a Starbuck’s.

So there you have it:  My take on seven favorite spots in Baja?  How about you?  Do you have any favorite Baja destinations?  Let us know here in the comments sction!


More on Baja?  You bet!

Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area

By Joe Berk

Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area is an interesting spot located just west of Las Vegas.  During our recent visit to Death Valley, we rode to the Red Rock Canyon area after stopping for lunch at Mom’s (a great restaurant) in Pahrump.

Pahrump is 30 miles northwest of Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area on Highway 160; Las Vegas is 17 miles to the east.

The Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area has a good plan for managing visitors.  You have to make an online reservation that slots you into 15-minute arrival intervals.   There’s $16 entrance fee (I guess it’s per vehicle), but when we arrived the park ranger didn’t even look at my senior citizen lifetime pass.  He just waived us in.  That’s happened to me a few times at National Parks.  Maybe I just look old.

We took Highway 160 east from Pahrump and it was a pleasant ride.  As we approached Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area, the Spring Mountains on our left (north of Highway 160) had brilliant burgundy horizontal rock layers.  The red is caused by iron oxide.  We weren’t even in the Park yet, and the views were already stunning.  It really is something to see.

Once we entered Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area, we explored the Visitor Center and four interpretive exhibits accessible via a walkway outside.  After that, we started the 13-mile one-way ride through the park.  There are many stops offering different views of the mountains and rock formations.   Motorcycles are fine on this road, and we also saw people riding bicycles.  I’d like to do the ride on a bicycle someday.  It looked like fun.

Desert tortoises live here and there are exhibits that provide information about them.   The tortoises live near Visitor Center paths, but we didn’t see them while we were there.  That’s okay; I’ve seen desert tortoises out and about on previous treks.  As an aside, if you happen to see one, don’t pick it up.  Doing so will frighten the tortoise and literally scare the pee out of it, which can induce dehydration and kill the tortoise.  The desert tortoise is a protected species, so leave them alone.

You can hike and camp in Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area.  When I read that I immediately thought of Mike Huber, who is wheeling and camping his way around New Zealand as I write this.

Although I’ve been to Las Vegas many times, I had never visited Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area.  It’s about as different from Las Vegas as a place can be, and in my opinion that’s a good thing.  If you’re ever in this part of the world, Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area is worth a stop.


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Chanson d’Armour

Carl Bennett of the UK has contributed to the ExNotes blog before.  He recently sent to us a piece related to riding gear and we thought you might enjoy it.


By Carl Bennett

One thing I never wanted to hear on a motorcycle was the Ra-ta-da-ta-da of my head, elbows, hips, knees and toes bouncing down the tarmac having come off it. Ok, you might have to be of a certain age and indeed of a more than certain pretentiousness to recognise the song and the joke in the title, if that’s not too strong a word for it, but if you ride, you’ll have thought about buying the stuff, if you haven’t already. Which I’m feeling as if everybody else in the universe already has.

Back when I started riding motorcycles, rider armour was something I read about in Bike magazine, something strictly for people like Barry Sheene, who was the nearest thing to the Bionic Man I’d ever heard of. For our younger readers, Barry Sheene dropped his bike at Daytona somewhere around 170mph when he was 24 when his tyre blew up.

“I was rolling, and I could feel all my skin coming off. I didn’t feel the leg because all I could feel was the skin tearing off my shoulders. I went to get up and looked down, and my leg was right-angled, poking under the other one.”

Barry Sheene

He broke his left femur, right wrist, forearm and collarbone, six broken ribs, and a few vertebrae, sandpapered a lot of his skin off and got himself a 40cm steel plate screwed into his leg bone to hold it together. I don’t know what it’s like to do 170 on a motorcycle, and on my antique BMW F650, it’s not something I’m likely to find out. But I do know I never want to feel anything like Barry Sheene that day. Or any other.

I’d seen a kid at school who came off his bike at something under 40mph, but as he was wearing one of those sleeveless tops with a strap over each shoulder, the kind of thing they made you wear at English schools for Games back in the days when the P.E. teacher would wander around the shower room to “make sure” everyone was washing. This kid had one big scab from his wrist to his shoulder for a couple of weeks. He’d given up gloves to keep cool.

My view back then was that the more I looked like Mad Max, the cooler I’d look, so I bought myself a leather jacket. The one I wanted was in a proper motorcycle dealer in Bath, just about affordable, padded with something at the shoulder and the elbow and bulked me up massively. It was also an unseemly shade of orange, which was probably why it was affordable. The other problem was all I had was a Yamaha FS1E. Seriously.

Instead, I got a jacket made for me by a chain-smoking hippy in a weird shop in Bath’s Walcot Nation. He got the leather from cutting up old jackets, handbags, or wherever he could find it for free, then lined the coat with an old wool blanket he’d probably dug out of a decommissioned Cold War bunker under Box Hill. I got full marks for recycling and alternative cred, but it was about as protective as the mini-skirts it was probably made from, and it stank of cigarettes for months until the wind blew the smell away.

When I got a 650 Triumph, I had to get something more becoming, so when I was on holiday and visited Truro market, I bought the Stranglers-style black leather jacket I’d always yearned for, for a massive £35. As Meatloaf used to tell us, it was long ago and far away. According to Google, that would be about £180 today, so it’s not so much better after all. When I got my Sportster, I got myself a Schott A2. Luckily, I never got to test either of these out seriously, but after that, I turned my Harley into a laser printer and a laptop to start a business that saw me around the world for 15 years or so, during which I didn’t have a bike and being dumb, gave away or sold all my kit, gloves, Ashman boots, Belstaff boots, open-face Bell 500, goggles, jackets, waxed cotton over-trousers, Rukka suit, the Schott, the lot.

Then, just before Christmas, Santa brought me a BMW 650. Before I rode it anywhere, I had to start from scratch, starting with a helmet. I drove up to Harleston on one of those crisp December days to find a shop full of bikes I didn’t even know the names of, where they totally ignored me, then on to a shed (always a sign of a better bike shop) full of guys my own age and more who tried very quietly but firmly to sell me a nice Triumph but didn’t have any helmets. When I got home, Best Beloved, who fondly recalled her tasselled leather jacket and Yamaha 650, took me to the nearest bike shop in Ipswich, marched me to the helmet racks and whipped out her bank card. She chose a flip-front helmet I’d never heard of. I tried it on in the shop, and the sales guy told me it was the right size. After talking me out of buying a Scott chain oiler, agreeing it would be ideal if I was riding Route 66 coast to coast but also pointing out quietly and firmly that, in fact, I wasn’t, she walked me to the till and then her car.

The biggest problem was my head. It’s huge. Seriously. It’s 63cm and 64 if I need a trip to the barber. I tried the shiny new, never-heard-of-the-maker polycarb (I know..) helmet on in my home office and couldn’t believe three things: How heavy it was. How much my head hurt. That the nice guy in the shop was lying when he’d told me the helmet was my size.

It clearly said 61cm on the label on the back of it, and yes, I most definitely had said 63 in the shop. Another Saturday, another trip to the store, and a full refund. I got a Bell online instead, with the Gold ACU sticker.

I’d forgotten, or rather never really knew, how fashion was now a massive part of motorcycles. This is good because it means old stock is Out Of Fashion, and the seller still has to sell it, so there’s a whole load of good stuff being sold off cheap because Oh-mi-Gard it’s last season’s gear.

The same day we went to the bike shop in Ipswich I answered an ad on Gumtree that promised leather jeans for £30. After a tour of the town’s lesser architectural gems southeast of the railway station we found the house and the guy who said he was giving up riding motorcycles. Whether or not that was true, £30 bought a fantastic pair of leather bike jeans, padded at the knee. Ok, they zip from the wrong side and possibly, just possibly the cut makes them fit slightly like jodhpurs, more as if I was going to co-pilot Amy Johnson than ride a motorcycle, but hey. £30. A significant upgrade on Levi’s for protection anyway, and I’m too embarrassed to say when I remember Levi’s were £30 anyway.

The brand new Halversen gloves donated to a charity shop on Ebay were better than the ones I used to ride with, despite the Mad Max-style knuckle dusters that seem to be a legal requirement for riding gloves these days. The Bering jacket was the best thing though. I was intending to use my old leather jacket. Not the Schott that went to Ebay about five years back but the one I bought one Christmas in Fuengirola about 20 years back when it wouldn’t stop raining. After waxing it, soaking it in neatsfoot oil, daubing it with cocoa-butter and generally stinking my office up I realised that I might as well just buy something with armour and have done with it.

The Bering was a ludicrous £89, and that’s from a man who still thinks £4.95 is a benchmark price for pheasant pie, chips and peas, which I used to get for quiet evenings on my own in Stow-On-The-Wold back when I had a 400-year old house there. It’s got armour in the elbows and the shoulders, and a slot to stuff more armour down the back. It’s blue instead of leather coloured, with a twin zip up the front and a zip across the shoulders at the back, so that in summer you can ventilate yourself on the three weeks it ever gets above 80 Fahrenheit in the U.K. It’s made of 600 denier Cordura with a woven aluminium zip-in full lining for winter, and a handy strap and a brass buckle at the throat. More to the point, despite all the protection and windproofing, it doesn’t make me look like I’m auditioning for a Mad Max film. Best Beloved, who sews for a living, took one look at it and said “That’s a £300 jacket.”

Now, maybe it’s me, but if I’m spending £300 on a jacket I’m only going to wear in one eventuality, on the back of a motorcycle or anywhere else, then I want it to look pretty special. Some lizard skin detailing, maybe, or a paisley lining. Instead I get armour and fine-spun aluminium. When I started riding the biggest deal in protective clothing was whether you could find white sea-boot socks to turn down over the top of your knee-length zip-up boots, the ones where the only armour insert was a steel plate in the right instep, for the kick-starter.

The older I get the more I realise that saying is true: the past is another country. They do things differently there. And just sometimes, at least when it comes to motorcycle clothing, they do some things a whole lot better here.


Carl, thanks much.  It’s a good writeup, I enjoyed reading it, and I think our readers will, too.  ExNotes readers, if you’d like to follow Carl’s blog, the link is writer-insighter.com.


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