Two cool videos are making waves this week. One is a recent release by my good buddy Buffalo Bonker about his recent ride across Iowa on his RX3…
I met Buffalo on one of the CSC Baja rides, and the guy is a hoot. He bought the RX3 to go on the Baja ride (he had never ridden a motorcycle before), and since then he’s completed a number of great adventures, including a ride through Vietnam. Most impressive, and thanks for allowing us to share your video here on the ExNotes blog, Buffalo!
The other video of note is good buddy Joe Gresh’s review of the Royal Enfield Interceptor, which continues to rack up the views…
Joe Gresh has a number of outstanding videos, and it you’d like to see more, just drift on over to our YouTubby page! We’ve just updated our video page, with more videos and better organization to make things easier to find. We have shooting videos, riding videos, motorcycle reviews, and more. Enjoy!
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So there we were in Calgary. Wow. And we’d ridden there on our motorcycles through all three countries (Mexico, the United States, and Canada). It had been a grand ride, but it was only half the trip. Now, it was time after a fun two days in Calgary for the ride home.
Before diving into our ride home, though, you might want to catch up on the ride to Calgary. Here are the first seven installments of our story on the 2005 Three Flags Classic…
The plan after the events in Calgary was to select our own route home and ride it at our own pace. The official portion of the 2005 Three Flags Classic was over. It had been a blast. On the run home we would decide where to go, how to get there, and how long to take doing it. Our plan was to head west across Canada from Calgary toward British Columbia, turn left somewhere above Washington, meander over to the coast somewhere after Portland, and follow the Pacific coast home. It was to be another grand adventure, and wow, we were having fun!
On the first morning out of Calgary, we stopped in Banff and had a great breakfast. Smoked salmon and eggs, as I recall. It was delicious.
The road through Banff. It was a crisp morning and the riding was great.We walked around in Banff a bit after breakfast. This bear skull was for sale in a store window.Good buddy Marty posing with the 1200 Daytona in Banff.
The ride that morning was beyond glorious. Crisp, clean air, cool temperatures, and all was well with the world. The big 1200 Daytona was running superbly well and the scenery was magnificent. Every scene was a picture postcard, and I caught a lot of them. Incidentally, all of the photos you see in this story were shot with film. I had my Nikon N70 with me and just two lenses (the 24-120 Nikon, and a 17-35 Sigma). Great scenery, great photo gear, a great motorcycle, and great photo ops. Life was good. It still is.
After that great breakfast in Banff and a bit of walking around, were back on the road headed west across Canada. Our next stop was Lake Louise.
The Lake Louise Hotel.The Lake Louise Hotel lobby, courtesy of the 17-35 Sigma lens. This place looked very expensive. In our dead-bug-encrusted road gear, we looked out of place.A statue near Lake Louise, erected by the Canadian Pacific Railway, honoring the Swiss Mountain guides. When building the railroad through the Rockies, the Canadian Pacific Railroad needed guys who knew how to find their way around in this kind of terrain. They bought mountain guides in from Switzerland.Lake Louise. It gets its greenish hue from glacial silt.The road crew in front of Lake Louise.There were signs around Lake Louise advising us to be on the lookout for grizzlies. Wow!
We continued heading west and then south through Canada, and we spent the night in Penticton, about an hour north of the border. Penticton is an interesting resort town, complete with a large lake and a casino. I had a smoked salmon pizza for dinner. Love that smoked salmon.
We crossed the border early and re-entered the U.S. into Washington. We were honking along pretty good, not 30 minutes into the U.S., when a Washington State Patrol officer pulled us over for speeding. It was early, maybe 6:30 in the morning, and the officer was heading north when we were heading south. He lit us up as he passed by, I saw him do a “Smokey and the Bandit” u turn in my rear view mirror, and we pulled over immediately. The officer pulled up behind us. When we took our helmets off, he looked at us and said, “Ah, old guys,” while shaking his head. He told us to slow down. The trooper was an old guy, too. I think he felt a connection. No citation. We chatted a bit. We were lucky. Yeah, I’m an old guy, but riding that Triumph always made me feel like I was 18 years old. “I don’t know why you boys aren’t getting tickets today,” the trooper said and then he told us to ride safely. His strategy worked. We rode across Washington at a sedate 60 mph for the rest of the day. It took forever.
Somewhere north of Yakima, Washington.
We stopped in Goldendale, Washington, for a cup of coffee in a local bar, chatted with the locals for a while, and then we had one of the most scenic rides I’ve ever taken. It was to be one of the best parts of the ride, and it was through the Columbia River Gorge. The roads and the scenery were incredible. It was the first time I’d ever seen it, and I’ve been back there several times since. It was an area I knew I had to include when we hosted the Chinese for the ride through the American West, and I wrote a piece about the region for Motorcycle Classics magazine. The Colombia River Gorge is one of my favorite places in the world.
Marty, headed into the Columbia River Gorge.
We rode along the north side of the Columbia River for about half the length of Washington, and then we crossed into Oregon on the Bridge of the Gods. It was probably 300 feet above the river, and it was one of those iron mesh bridges that you can look down and see all the way to the river. It looked and felt like I was flying, and it was unnerving. I looked down once and that was enough for me. We then found our way into Portland, and checked into a hotel I knew from a previous business trip.
Portland, looking out over the Willamette River.
Portland is a very cool town. Marty and I had fun exploring it, and in particular, stopping for lunch at the Olympian. I later did a story on the Olympian, too, for Motorcycle Classics. The Olympian has a fantastic vintage motorcycle collection.
Kelly’s Olympian Bar. This is a cool place to have a drink.Inside the Olympian. It’s a “must see” spot on any ride through Portland.
We left Portland before sunrise early the next morning and headed southeast toward the coast. Oregon is a wet state. We had a lot of mist in the morning riding through the rain forest, and it was eerie. I half expected to see Sasquatch jump out and grab me every time I wiped my face shield. Then, we arrived at the Oregon Coast Highway, and yep, that ultimately became a story gracing the pages of Motorcycle Classics, too.
Sasquatch is down there somewhere.Hippy Bob, who we met on Oregon’s Pacific Coast Highway.
The people you meet are the best part of any motorcycle ride, and on the Oregon Coast Highway, we met a guy who introduced himself as Hippy Bob. Hippy Bob had hit the Oregon lottery for $5,000 and he immediately bought a Harley basket case for $4,500. Bob was taking his time working his way down the coast from Portland on that motorcycle (Bob had been on the road for two days when we met him, and he had only traveled about 200 miles south of Portland in that time). I was really interested in Hippy Bob’s motorcycle, as I hadn’t seen a Shovelhead Harley on the road in years. His was a 1981 model. I used to own a 1979 Electra-Glide (with the Shovelhead motor), and I called it an optical illusion because it only looked like a motorcycle. Things were constantly breaking on my Harley. I asked Bob if he had any problems with his Shovelhead, and that opened the floodgates. Bob just went on and on about the nonstop challenges he had faced keeping his Harley running. He was still talking about it when we left.
We rode the Coast Highway all the way south to Highway 138, and someone told us to watch for the elk further east. We did, and wow, were we ever impressed.
Wow.Wow again!A bambino.
We spent the next night in Roseburg. The hotel was literally next door to the Roseburg Harley-Davidson dealer. We looked at the new 2006 Harleys (it was the first time I had seen them, and they looked good). I bought a Roseburg Harley T-shirt. There’s that old joke…you know, for a T-shirt company, they make a pretty good motorcycle…
Our destination the next morning was Crater Lake. Was it ever cold that morning! We rode through more beautiful scenery, but the temperatures were damn near debilitating. I need to tell you that we had been seeing signs warning of elk crossings for much of our time through Washington in Oregon, but the only elk was had seen so far were the ones off Highway 138. I had mentally dismissed the elk warning signs until what happened that morning. We saw another elk warning sign, I was trying to stay warm with my electric vest cranked up all the way, and then all of a sudden about 300 yards further up the road, the largest elk I ever saw stepped in front of us. I stopped, Marty stopped, and the elk stood broadside, just staring at us. He was daring us to proceed. That bull owned the road. He knew it, and he wanted to make sure we knew it, too.
Now, you have to picture this scene. We were the only ones out there, having a staring contest with this elk that was the size of a house, on a bright sunny freezing morning. Steam was coming out of the elk’s nostrils, and mine, too. I flipped my visor up because it was fogging over. The elk stared at me. I stared at it, wondering if I could get the bike turned around if the elk charged. I could see the headlines: Motorcyclist Gored to Death By Enraged Elk.
After what seemed to be an eternity, the elk looked away from us, crossed the highway, and disappeared into the forest on the other side. I started to let my clutch out, and then a female bounded out of the forest on the right and followed the bull into the forest on the left. I stopped and waited a second, and then started to roll forward. Then another female elk appeared. We stopped again. They just kept coming. Big ones, little ones, more big ones, more little ones, and well, you get the idea. I realized: Those elk crossing signs are for real.
Then it was on up to Crater Lake. It was beautiful, and it would become yet another Motorcycle Classics article.
My Daytona parked along the road circling Crater Lake.Yep, that’s snow. It was cold up there!
The area around Crater Lake was downright scary. There are steep drops on the side of the road, no shoulder to speak of, and no guard rails. There are lots of signs warning that you could get seriously hurt or killed up here. On the way down, we encountered ice on the road. I love riding; I hate riding on ice. I was concentrating intensely when out of the corner of my eye I saw a yellow motorcycle closing in on my right rear and I remember wondering who else would be nutty enough to be up here riding on the ice, and who in the world would try passing under these conditions? Then I realized: It wasn’t another motorcycle. It was my motorcycle, and the ass end was sliding around. The back end of my Triumph wasn’t going in the same direction as the front end. That was a close one.
After Crater Lake, we buzzed down to the California border, almost got stopped for speeding again (the CHP cruiser going the other way hit us with the lights but didn’t come after us), and we made it to Davis, California. We had dinner with Marty’s son, and then headed home the next day.
A trip like this is one of life’s grand events. It’s hard to say what part of it I liked best: The camaraderie, the people we met along the way, the scenery, the riding, the wildlife, the memories, the photo opportunities, the sense of adventure, or just the sheer pleasure of being alive and out in the world.
Here’s a summary of the miles that Marty assembled:
• 9/1/05 Upland, CA to Tijuana, BC: 139
• 9/2/05 Tijuana, BC to Gallup, NM: 657
• 9/3/05 Gallup, NM to Grand Junction, CO: 419
• 9/4/05 Grand Junction, CO to Driggs, ID: 569
• 9/5/05 Driggs, ID to Whitefish, MT: 526
• 9/6/05 Whitefish, MT to Calgary, AB: 366
• Total for Three Flags: 2,676
• Miles ridden within Calgary, AB: 6
• 9/8/05 Calgary, AB to Penticton, BC: 430
• 9/9/05 Penticton, BC to Portland, OR: 468
• 9/10/05 Portland, OR to Roseburg, OR: 288
• 9/11/05 Roseburg, OR to Davis, CA: 469
• 9/12/05 Davis, CA to Upland, CA: 427
• Total for return trip: 2,082
• Total for round trip: 4,764
The Three Flags Classic Rally is one of the world’s great motorcycle rides, and if you’ve never experienced it, you might consider signing up for one of these rides. You can get more information on the Three Flags Classic on the Southern California Motorcycle Association website. I’ve done some great rides in my life; the Three Flags Classic was one of the best.
When I’m on a road trip, I sometimes know the history of the area I’m riding through, and I sometimes do not. I’m always wondering about it, though. I recently finished reading Empire of the Summer Moon, and it was so good it makes me want to plan another road trip through Texas. The cover tells what the book is about; what it doesn’t do is tell just how good this book is…
Several things amazed me as I read Empire of the Summer Moon, the first being how it could have not known of it previously. The only reason I learned of it is that I saw Empire in an airport bookstore a couple of trips ago.
They say you can’t tell a book by its cover, but the cover on Empire appealed to me greatly. The book was even better. Much of the action described in it occurred in Texas (and in areas where I used to live in Texas); now I want to return, ride those roads again, and pay more attention this time. And I will. Just how good was this book? Hey, when I finished it, I turned back to the beginning and started reading it again. That’s good.
A couple of years ago I gave a presentation on our ride across China to one of the Horizons Unlimited gatherings. It was a 56-slide PowerPoint deal and I thought I might share it with you here. It’s big bandwidth, so bear with me as the images load, and enjoy…
The riding was great, the friendship was even better, and the photo ops were off the charts. Both Joe Gresh and I published stories on that adventure, too. And don’t forget the book, Riding China. You can buy it here!
Here’s another stunning motorcycle in the Motor Museum of Western Australia. It’s kind of wild that I am finding this exotic American iron on the other side of the planet (see our earlier blog on the 1920 Excelsior-Henderson), but hey, beauty knows no bounds!
The bike is beautiful, and the colors just flat work for me. I guess they worked for Harley-Davidson, too…in the mid-1980s they offered a Heritage model Shovelhead with the identical “pea green” color theme. I wish I had purchased one of those back in the day. Lord only knows what they are going for now.
Check out the exposed pushrods, rocker arms, valve stems, and fuel tank cutouts in the photo above. And then take a look at the leather work on the saddlebags below…
I’ll let the Motor Museum’s words do the talking here, folks…check out the distances covered on this bike, too!
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You know, there’s more to the American Pickers television show than just watching a couple of cool dudes and their delightful inked-up assistant traveling all over the world buying cool stuff. It’s really an education on how business works. Buy low, buy quality, rarity counts, treat everybody well, and sell at a profit. I love it, and I never miss an episode. And I’ve watched a lot of the reruns.
The other topic American Pickers handles well is negotiation. These guys view negotiation not as an adversarial endeavor, but rather, a situation in which the buyer and seller are working together to find common ground. Backing off when things aren’t moving forward, bundling things to reach agreement, gentle suggestions…it’s all there. The show could be titled Negotiation 101 (it wouldn’t be as catchy a title, but it sure would be accurate).
I love negotiating. It’s a grand game and I love playing it. Just the other day I took advantage of a negotiating opportunity. You know I’m a firearms enthusiast. I enjoy shooting and I enjoy reloading. I’m always on the lookout, too, for a few guns I still have on my wish list. One such firearm on the “someday” list has been a 300 Weatherby Magnum. I’ve been watching the Internet auction boards for 5 or 6 years now looking for one that was priced right, realizing I’d still have to pay the transfer fees, etc., to bring it in from wherever to California.
Why a Weatherby? Well, as you already know, I once met Roy Weatherby. He was a hell of man and a personal hero. He designed his own rifles and cartridges. The 300 Weatherby Magnum is his signature cartridge. It’s why I wanted one.
So one day a few years ago Susie and I had lunch in Pasadena with a fellow from India. That meeting may someday lead to another secret mission (this time to the subcontinent, which might be interesting as I’ve never been there).
But all that’s beside the point. On the way home, the traffic was terrible (it was the Friday before the Labor Day holiday). We diverted to surface streets on the way back and, what do you know, I spotted a little gun store (The Gunrunner in Duarte). We stopped in and they had a consignment rifle…and it was the one I’d been seeking for several years. A 300 Weatherby Magnum with a scope, a sling, and a case. It looked new to me, but it was used. Used, but in “as new” condition.
“How much?” I asked.
“$500,” the sales guy replied.
Hmmmmm. That was actually a great price. It was an especially great price considering I wouldn’t have to bring it in from out of state, there would be no freight or transfer fees, its condition was stellar, and it was what I had wanted for a long time. I didn’t answer, but I kept looking at the rifle. Susie just stared daggers at me. That’s another negotiating trick. Bring your significant other with you and have her pretend to be opposed to whatever it is you want to purchase. In this case, though, I’m not so sure she was pretending…
I was just about to say okay when the sales guy spoke up again.
“How about $500 and I’ll pick up the DROS fees,” he said (the DROS fees are the fees associated with the background checks, etc., so the State of California can be certain I won’t run out and hold up a gas station with the my rifle).
“Make it $475 and we’ve got a deal,” I said.
And that’s how you get ‘r done, folks, as another one of my heroes would say.
The test target provided with every new Weatherby…this one grouped 3 shots into an inch at 100 yards
So you can see that test target above. All new Weatherby rifles used to come with a test target like that (maybe they still do; it’s been awhile since I bought a new one). You might wonder if these targets are really representative of what the rifle can do, and I’m here to tell you they are indeed. Take a look…this is what I shot with one of the loads I developed for my .300 Weatherby Vanguard the week after I bought it…
An awesome rifle in every regard…awesome power, awesome accuracy, and awesome recoil. The load is the 165 gr Hornady jacketed boat tail softpoint, a CCI 250 primer, and 80 grains of IMR 7828 propellant. That’s a 3-shot, half-inch group at a 100 yards!
If you enjoyed this blog, make sure you check out our other Tales of the Gun stories!
The Remington Classic 700 in 7mm Weatherby Magnum: An unusual, collectible, and as it turns out, extremely accurate rifle.
A short while ago I wrote about my Dad’s left hand 7mm Weatherby Mk V, and how Roy Weatherby personally helped me select it. Well, here’s a story about another rifle chambered for the powerful 7mm Weatherby Magnum cartridge.
About a year ago, I saw something unusual on Gunbroker.com. It was an ad for a Remington 700 Classic rifle chambered in the venerable 7mm Weatherby Magnum cartridge. This rifle is quite a setup and, I think, quite a score for me personally. I’ve been a huge fan of Weatherby rifles ever since I was a little boy, when my father chased woodchucks in New Jersey with a .243 Winchester Model 70. Back in the day, woodchucks were about the only thing you could hunt with a rifle in New Jersey. I grew up in a farming community (there’s a reason New Jersey is called the Garden State), and the farmers in our area gave my Dad free rein to cull the chuck population. Those little woodchucks did a lot of crop damage, and the farmers were grateful that my Dad was able send those critters on to their reward. As a little kid tagging along with Dad, it was grand fun. It was not at all unusual for him to take (and make) 400-yard shots, with his rifle resting across the hood of his ’65 F-100 Ford (there were a lot of powder burns on that old pickup truck). Like I said, it was awesome.
Just before I went to Korea, my Dad bought a 7mm Weatherby rifle for me as a going-away gift, and I loved it. I shot the barrel out of that rifle (yep, I shot it so much I wore it out) and then I had it redone with a Douglas barrel in 300 H&H. But the 7mm Weatherby Mag cartridge had its hooks into me, and they never let go. The idea is that a 7mm projectile is aerodynamically more efficient than a .30 caliber bullet (the 7mm is 0.284 inches in diameter; a .30 caliber bullet is 0.308 inches in diameter). For the same weight, the 7mm cartridge has a lower drag coefficient, so it retains more velocity downrange and it has a flatter trajectory.
All of the above is probably more theoretical than real world, but I still like the idea of a streamlined, hard-hitting, flat-shooting, hot 7mm. And that’s what the 7mm Weatherby cartridge is. It was one of Roy Weatherby’s first magnum chamberings, and it has been the fastest 7mm cartridge ever for many decades.
The 7mm Weatherby cartridge. Note the classic Weatherby double radius shoulder…the theory is the double radii act as a venturi, providing higher projectile velocities. It’s probably more marketing magic than real world measurable results, but I’m a believer.
I’ve also always been a fan of the Remington 700 rifle. They are inherently accurate, and when I used to shoot high power metallic silhouette competition back in the ’70s and ’80s, it was rare to see anything other than a Model 700 in the winners’ circle. I’ve owned a few of these rifles, and they are indeed extremely accurate.
Remington had a run of Model 700 rifles they labeled the “Classic” for a little more than 20 years, with the idea being that each year they would do a rifle in one chambering only. Remington stopped making the Classic series more than 20 years ago, and I always wanted one.
Recently, I saw an ad on Gunbroker for one of the rarest of the Classic series, the single year they chambered these fine rifles in 7mm Weatherby Magnum. That was a “must have” rifle for me. A Model 700, chambered in 7mm Weatherby. Wow. The rifle was advertised as new in the box, the cartridge is an awesome one, and unlike most of the Classics I had previously seen, it had killer wood. Hey, what’s not to like? I bought the rifle from Heritage Shooting Academy in Triangle, Virginia, and it was a great deal. If anything, the rifle was better than advertised, and I sure couldn’t argue with the way it shot (more on that in a second).
When it arrived, I was more than impressed. It was indeed new in the box, it was flawless, the walnut was understatedly elegant, and as I was to learn, it shot very, very well. The only thing that initially concerned me was that these uber-velocity cartridges generally give up accuracy for what they gain in speed. But that sure isn’t the case with this rifle. I reloaded different cartridges trying various powder charges using two different bullets, and the groups that resulted (all at 100 yards) were fabulous.
Whoa! Out-of-the-box accuracy!
My initial testing showed that the trick here was to load toward the higher end of the powder charge spectrum to more fully fill those big belted magnum cases. The theory is that doing so results in a more uniform pressure wave/flame front when the go-juice lights up, and I guess it worked that way for me. More powder results in more velocity and that meant more recoil, but wowee, the Model 700 provided great results! It shot phenomenally tight groups and the little bit of dispersion you see is undoubtedly more me than the rifle or the ammo. I am one happy camper!
The right bike and the right clothes make for good traveling, and this is especially important when you’re riding Baja. Travel light and travel right is the way to go. What you don’t want to do is travel like I did on my first Baja trip. On that one, my Harley looked like that opening scene in The Beverly Hillbillies (you know, the one with everything strapped to Jed Clampett’s old pickup, including Granny in a rocking chair on top).
How not to do it. My old Harley was way overloaded on this early Baja trip.
I guess it all starts with the right bike, and for all of us, that’s the bike we have. I’ve ridden Baja on many different motorcycles, and they all worked for me. My preferred bike for Baja riding, though, is my CSC RX3, which I think is perfect (especially with its standard luggage). I’ve settled on a 250 as the perfect size for real adventure travel (your choice may be different, I’m not trying to pick a fight, and if my choice upsets you, hey, you’re young…you’ll get over it).
My RX3 early in its life. I can pack everything I bring with me on a Baja ride in its luggage. My bike also has a sheepskin seat cover, which makes for a more comfortable ride.
When I’m on the RX3, I can carry everything I need in its two panniers and the top case, with nothing strapped onto the bike with bungee cords. I don’t like to carry stuff outside the luggage, because everything is locked and I can leave the bike when we stop to eat or take pictures without worrying about anyone stealing anything. I’m usually carrying more than most of the folks I ride with, too, because I’ve got my Nikon DSLR, a laptop computer, the power supply and cord for the laptop, the recharger for the camera battery, an extra camera battery, and a laptop mouse. I need to keep the beast fed (i.e., this blog), and I blog daily from the road. The top case is devoted to the computer and the camera gear. I keep tools, spare parts (you can read about recommended Baja spares here), and chain lube in the right pannier, and clothes in the left pannier. Remember what I said above…travel light and travel right.
If I’m on a bike that doesn’t have luggage, my preferred approach includes an older Nelson Rigg tailpack and a set of Wolfman soft pannier bags. That’s all I need. These two items go on and off the bike easily and they are high quality items. I bought the Nelson-Rigg tailpack 20 years ago when I rode Baja on my TL1000S, and I bought the Wolfman bags from CSC when I rode Baja with my TT250. I’ve been impressed with both the Wolfman and Nelson-Rigg brands. Wolfman, especially…it’s good gear.
My old TL1000S (the first year for that bike…it was a ’97) and the Nelson-Rigg tailpack. The TL is long gone; the tailpack is still covering miles with me.My TT250 with my Joe Rocket gloves, HJC helmet, Wolfman soft luggage, and Nelson-Rigg Tailpack (the same one you see on the TL1000S above, but 20 years later in this photo). All good gear.
My helmet is another item I bought from CSC. It’s an HJC and I like it. It’s not heavy (which makes a huge difference when you’re covering hundreds of miles day after day) and it’s comfortable. I’ve tried others, but I keep coming back to the HJC line. I have a Scorpion, but it doesn’t have a visor position that allows opening the visor slightly for air flow. Others don’t form a good seal between the visor and the helmet, so when it rains the visor gets wet on both the inside and the outside. Nope, for me that HJC works.
The HJC helmet I currently use. It’s comfortable and it’s not heavy.
My jacket is made by Olympia. I like it because of the color (fluorescent yellow), and the fact that it is all one color. Most (maybe all) of the other fluorescent yellow jackets available today have black panels along with the fluorescent yellow and I don’t care for that approach. My jacket has a removable liner and it keeps me warm, and at night if it’s cool and I’m off the bike, I can wear just the liner as a light jacket.
A selfie showing my Joe Rocket gloves and my Olympia riding jacket. I didn’t realize it when I bought it, but keeping that Oly jacket on the road required more maintenance than the motorcycles.
I should mention that I hated the Olympia jacket the first two years I owned it. Olympia used cheap stitching when they had these made, and most of it came undone. Every time I washed that jacket, more stitching came apart. Oly wouldn’t make good on it (they were quick to point out that the jacket had a 1-year warranty). I paid a tailor to resew all the seams, though, and after that, it stayed together (even after repeated washings). It’s the jacket I wear most often now.
I always bring along my R Heroes 505 workshirt, an ultra-high quality sweatshirt I wrote about in an ExNotes blog a few months ago. I own two of these shirts (one of which has held up for 10 years now). It’s warm and it’s extremely comfortable. It’s also loose enough that if you’re carrying a concealed sidearm, it provides good coverage (don’t do that in Baja, though). I love my R Heroes shirts.
My R Heroes 505 workshirt. I love it.
I wear Walmart jeans (I’m not into fancy jeans and I think anybody that pays big bucks for blue jeans is bonkers) and an old set of motorcycle pants. On warmer days, the motorcycle pants go into one of my bags and it’s just the jeans. On cooler days or if it’s raining, I wear both. My motorcycle pants are water resistant but not waterproof (if the rain lasts long enough, they’ll soak through). Every year or so, I’ll spray the paints with Kiwi water repellant to refresh the Scotchguard. I’m kind of embarrassed that I don’t know who made the motorcycle pants. I’ve had them for more than 20 years and the labels are long gone.
My gloves are Joe Rocket. Joe Rocket gear is reasonably priced and the quality is there. I have two pair. I cut off the right index finger tip off on one so I can work my iPhone when I’m using it as a nav system. I also have an older set of BMW cold weather riding gloves, and they work gangbusters. I think I paid a hundred bucks for the BMW gloves (everything that says BMW is big bucks), but on supercold mornings, I’m constantly reminded that was money well spent.
The last item I’ll mention are my boots. I’m not a big fan of any of the motorcycle-specific boots because they are too big, too heavy, and too uncomfortable when you get off the bike. I like military or police style boots, and my preferred brand is from an outfit called HAIX. They’re Austrian (the boots are actually manufactured in Croatia). They’re expensive (about $200), but they are worth it. The first pair I bought lasted 10 years. I bought a new pair a year or two ago, and I’ll get 10 years with them, too.
This is a hot rifle with a cool story. Folks, check out this left hand 7mm Weatherby Mark V…
A 7mm Mk V Weatherby. Note the left hand bolt and the exquisite walnut.
It’s one of the great ones, and the story behind it goes like this. About 35 years ago I was an engineer working for Aerojet (we manufactured cluster bombs and artillery ammunition) and the Weatherby plant was just up the road from us in Southgate, California. Weatherby had a retail sales outlet there, too. It was awesome. Hunting trophies (including an enormous full body mount of a standing polar bear that must have been 10 feet tall), all kinds of shooting gear, beautiful Weatherby rifles…you get the idea.
I stopped in one day and mentioned to Pat, the sales guy I had come to know, that I wanted to buy a Weatherby in 7mm Weatherby Magnum for my Dad. I told him it had to be a left handed action (Dad was a southpaw), and I wanted a rifle with exceptional walnut. “If you see one that has particularly nice wood, let me know,” I said.
Pat’s answer was immediate: “Let’s go in the back and pick one out now,” he said. In those days, they would take you into the Weatherby warehouse deep in the facility to select the rifle you wanted.
It was awesome. Imagine being in an Army armory, you know, the ones with the plain wood racks and zillions of rifles stacked in them. Now imagine those same plain wood racks filled with Weatherby Mk V rifles. That’s what it was like. I could have spent a year in that room, but after an hour I got it down to two rifles and I told Pat it would be cool if I could tell Dad that Roy Weatherby helped me select the rifle.
“Let’s go,” he said, and that’s exactly what happened. In two minutes I was in Roy Weatherby’s office and there he was. I remembered my father and I studying the Weatherby catalogs when I was a kid. They all had this photo of Roy Weatherby in his office, surrounded by animal skins, his personal gun collection, and hunting trophies. Suddenly, Pat and I were in that photo. And there was Mr. Weatherby.
Roy Weatherby, in his office. I was there. Photo from the Weatherby catalog.
Roy Weatherby was one hell of a man. He spoke to me like we had known each other for years, and I guess in a sense we had. He knew his customer base, and I had read about Mr. Weatherby growing up. He wanted to know about the velocities of the 25mm ammo we manufactured at Aerojet, he wanted to know about me, and he wanted to know about my father. Dad was a world-class trapshooter, and Roy wanted to know all about that, too. The entire time we chatted (maybe 30 minutes), Pat and I were holding the two Weatherby rifles I had selected.
Finally, Mr. Weatherby said to me, “Joe, I understand you’re buying a Weatherby for your Dad and you need help selecting the rifle.” We hadn’t told Mr. Weatherby that yet, but he knew. Then he said to Pat, “Pat, let’s put those two rifles up here on my desk,” and we did.
“You know, from this side I like that one best,” old Roy said. “Let’s turn them over.” We did, and then he said, “Oh, I see the problem. From this side, I like this one best,” pointing to the other rifle.
Then he looked at me and said, “Joe, which one do you like best?”
“I like this one,” I said, pointing to the rifle in the photo on top of this blog.
“That’s the one I would have selected,” Roy said, with a knowing smile.
Mr. Weatherby obviously had done this before. He had helped in the selection, but it was my choice. This was a wise man. In a different time, I could imagine him suggesting slicing the baby in half like old King Solomon. Just being in his presence was an amazing experience. Like I said, he was one hell of a man. It was easy to understand why he was successful. My guess is everyone who met Roy Weatherby loved the guy.
“Do you think your Dad would like a Weatherby catalog?” Roy asked. Would he ever, I thought. I still have memories of Dad reading those Weatherby catalogs when I was a kid. They were big, glossy, full color affairs showing Weatherby custom rifles, famous people who hunted with Weatherby rifles, and more. Roy pulled open a desk drawer, took a catalog from it, and inscribed the inside cover with a big Roy Weatherby signature. It was a moment I’ll remember for the rest of my life. The he gave me a Weatherby hat and a Weatherby belt buckle, and he said, “Give these to your Dad, too.” It was an incredible day.
I was a Weatherby fan when I went in; when I left I was even more so. On the way out, I bought a Weatherby scope and a Weatherby rifle case. Pat, the sales guy, told me they had other cases and other scopes that cost less, but I knew that wouldn’t do for me. It had to be a Weatherby product. If they had a guy there offering Weatherby tattoos, I would have opted for one of those, too.
I gave the rifle to Dad and he loved it. We spent several days on the range shooting the Weatherby, and then shortly after that, Dad’s number came up and he was gone. Dad had heart disease, and it was his time. That was a tough pill to swallow, but life goes on. It was one of the lowest and saddest times of my life, but I will forever be grateful that I was able to give Dad the Weatherby and see him enjoy owning and shooting it.
The Weatherby had not been out of my safe since then, other than to run a patch through the bore and to keep it oiled. I didn’t shoot it because it’s left handed (I’m a righty), and then one day recently I was thinking about that. My Dad was left handed and he shot right hand bolt action rifles, so I reasoned that as a righty I could shoot a left hand rifle. And last year, I did.
Me, with Dad’s Weatherby. Dark striped walnut runs the length of the stock on both sides.
That 7mm Weatherby Magnum cartridge is a real powerhouse. It’s hotter than the 7mm Remington Magnum by about 200 feet per second and the bark is ferocious. The recoil is significant, but truth be told, when I’m hunting I never feel the recoil and I never hear the shot. That’s because my concentration is elsewhere.
My reloaded 7mm Weatherby Magnum ammunition. Weatherby cartridges have a unique double radius shoulder. The theory is it provides higher projectile velocities.
I’m working on different loads trying to zero in on the secret sauce that will provide the tightest groups in his magnificent old rifle. And I’m having a lot of fun doing it. Every time I head to the range with the 7mm Weatherby Magnum, I’m thinking of Dad and that day with Roy Weatherby.
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Several things amazed me as I read Empire of the Summer Moon, the first being how it could have not known of it previously. The only reason I learned of it is that I saw Empire in an airport bookstore a couple of trips ago.
Yep, I grabbed a bunch of photos today. Beezers, Harleys, Indians, Triumphs, Nortons, Velocettes, and more (much more, actually) to follow.
