Motorcycle Adventure Ride – Page 18

Pu’ukohola Heiau National Historic Site

I was in Hawaii when I wrote this blog, and we were on the Big Island (the actual island of Hawaii). It’s much less densely populated than Oahu and quite a bit less touristy. My daughter found a cool spot where the unification of the Hawaiian Islands originated, and that’s the Pu’ukohola Heiau National Historic Site.

King Kamehameha, the guy who was in charge of the island of Hawaii (which is one of eight Hawaiian islands) consulted with a Hawaiian priest about how to unify all eight islands. The priest was called a kahuna, and because King Kamehameha was the guy was asking the questions, I suppose the priest would have been the Big Kahuna. The Big Kahuna advised King Kamehameha to build a temple and sacrifice an ally there.

The Pu’ukohola Heiau temple is what you see in the photo at the top of this blog. It kind of looks like a whale, and you can see whales occasionally when you are in Hawaii. The temple was built in just one year with stones mined 27 miles away (and this occurred on an island where there were no horses or mules). King Kamehameha picked an ally for the sacrificial offering; it was his cousin Keōua, except they weren’t really allies. As the story was told to us, Keōua realized it was his destiny to be sacrified, so even though he knew the invitation was for a party that would not end well, he went. There are other aspects to the story that are more disturbing. Cousin Keōua mutilated himself before he arrived (he thought that would make him an imperfect sacrifice), but it didn’t work. Yep, King Kamehameha killed the guy. But evidently the Big Kahuna had been right. King Kamehameha succeeded in unifying the Hawaiian Islands.

Pu’ukohola Heiau is where all this happened, at the edge of the Pacific, and the area and the temple King Kamehameha built are now a National Historic Site.

The Pu’ukohola Heiau temple is what you see in the large photo at the top of this blog. It is impressive. There’s a sort of a tower in front of it, and that’s what you see below.

This Pacific Ocean inlet is at the base of the temple. There are contemporary signs warning that the waters are shark infested, and they advise people not to swim or even wade there. The sharks will attack, the signs warn.

In the old days, or so the story goes, the Hawaiians used to make human sacrifices in this bay. The rock you see below is where the chief would sit to watch the sharks attack whoever was being sacrificed.

Surprisingly, there’s a public beach less than a quarter mile away along the same shoreline. Needless to say, I stayed out of the water.

Another thing we saw there (and all over the Big Island) were mongooses. Mongooses are an invasive species in Hawaii (they came from India), and they have become an apex predator as they have no natural enemies on the Big Island. We didn’t know they were mongooses initially. We thought they were rats, but the tails were way too big and thick for rats. They behaved liked squirrels and they are about the same size. The mongooses scurried about and would come right up to you (they were not afraid to beg for food). I gave a mongoose something to eat, even though youi’re not supposed to. I didn’t want to disappoint an animal unafraid to go head-to-head with a cobra. I suppose you could introduce cobras to Hawaii to counter the mongoose invasion, but that would create other problems.

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The Janus Halcyon 450 and Motorcycle Classics Magazine

Joe Gresh’s recent blog on the Vintage Japanese Motorcycle Club and their magazine is, like all of Gresh’s writing, outstanding. So much so that, as he suggested, I became a VJMC magazine subscriber.

I’d like to suggest another magazine, and as you have no doubt guessed from the title of this blog, it’s Motorcycle Classics. I think it’s one of the best motorcycle magazines in existence. Part of that is due to MC‘s quality…glossy paper, a great page count, great photos, and great writing. And part of it is I get to see my work in MC‘s pages on a regular basis. Most recently, it’s my story on the new Janus Halcyon 450. Sue and I had a great time visiting with the Janus team in Goshen, Indiana, and the Halcyon 450 motorcycle is a winner. Pick up a copy of Motorcycle Classics magazine and read the Halcyon 450 article. Better yet, subscribe to Motorcycle Classics.

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Want to read more about Janus motorcycles in action? Check out the Baja ride we did with Janus!

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Glendora Ridge Road

Glendora Ridge Road is one of the best kept secrets in southern California, offering 12 miles of well-maintained, low-traffic twisties nestled in the San Gabriel Mountains. And it’s not just 12 miles…it’s 12 miles with 234 curves (I counted them) through some of the most beautiful country imaginable. The striking thing about this road is its simultaneous desolation and nearness to civilization. Glendora Ridge Road is only 45 minutes from downtown Los Angeles. It’s only 10 minutes from my front door. Given its magnificence and nearby location, you’d think I’d ride it every day. I don’t, but I should.

Glendora Ridge Road is a glorious ride, and it’s been a favorite ride for me ever since I arrived in California. It’s hard to believe just how good it is and just how much of a change it offers between what most folks think southern California is and pure wilderness. Like I said above, it starts just 10 minutes away from my home. Ride it and you enter a different world. When I rode it last week, I saw two other vehicles on the entire ride. One was a single-cylinder dual sport; the other was a red Ducati. That’s it: Just two vehicles, and both were motorcycles.

As is the case with many mountain paths, Glendora Ridge Road began life as a dirt road many decades ago. Situated high up in the Angeles National Forest, asphalt came to Glendora Ridge Road in the 1970s. There’s no centerline for most of its length, which requires extra care in navigating its many tight blind corners. Glendora Ridge Road attracts motorcyclists, bicyclists, and the odd sports car or two. We also get some ricky racers in modified Honda Civics and the like up in the San Gabriels, so caution is in order.

Yikes! In the spring, you’ll see these guys looking for lady spiders at dusk. They say they’re harmless. I’ll take their word for it.

Glendora Ridge Road runs directly through one of the premier wildflower spots in America (the colors are surreal during April and May when the flowers are blooming…purples, reds, yellows, oranges, and more). Glendora Ridge Road also borders the San Dimas Experimental Forest, a 32-square mile research area. I’ve seen deer, fox, bobcat, bear, tarantulas, and snakes up there. I grabbed the tarantula shot above one evening in the pre-digital days with a 35mm Minolta and a 28mm lens. I had to get right on top of the spider to get that shot. I held the camera maybe six inches or so above it, only to later learn those things can jump 10 inches straight up!

I’ve ridden Glendora Ridge Road on virtually every motorcycle I’ve owned in the last 40 years. We used to do a lot of company rides with CSC Motorcycles, and everyone loved it. The RX3 is a perfect motorcycle for this ride. We once did a winter ride when the road was iced over. We rode it anyway.

The photo opportunities along Glendora Ridge Road are awesome. These days, I’m down to one motorcycle, and that’s my 650 Enfield. There are a lot of good spots for getting advertising quality photos on Glendora Ridge Road, and I took advantage of a few. Glendora Ridge Road has several areas where the cliffs and overhangs provide shade, so even on a bright day you can get great shots without harsh shadows

I pick a motorcycle based on how I know its colors will photograph. I chose wisely, I think.

On Glendora Ridge Road, looking north. It really is this scenic. I had the road and the San Gabriels to myself. The great Mojave Desert lies on the other side of those mountains.

Glendora Ridge Road runs roughly east to west (or west to east, depending on which way you travel). I like riding this road in the early morning or at dusk, as it makes for a more interesting ride (fewer folks, and the wildlife is more active.) In the morning, it’s best to ride in a westerly direction to keep the sun out of your eyes, and vice versa at dusk. The road’s curves make it tempting to go faster than you should, but my advice is to keep a relaxed pace. Many of the corners are blind, and you never know if there’s a squid pushing too hard coming the other way.

Just as you enter Mt. Baldy Village, the sign for Glendora Ridge Road appears on the left (if you’re not looking for it, you may miss it). You’ll only climb about a half-mile before you hit Cow Canyon Saddle. It’s a neat place to get a feel for the length and breadth of the valley skirted by Glendora Ridge Road. There’s a dirt road on the other side of that valley, but it’s not open to the public (the dirt road runs about eight miles to an abandoned tungsten mine). After running west for exactly 12 miles (and as mentioned above, no fewer than 234 curves), you arrive at the intersection of Glendora Ridge Road, Glendora Mountain Road, and East Fork Road. Glendora Mountain Road meanders down into Glendora. If you turn right to take East Fork Road, it continues on to Highway 39 above Azusa. The intersection of these three roads is a popular meeting spot where riders stop to talk and take in the view. On clear days in the winter, you can see the Pacific Ocean and Catalina Island.

Always a good idea. This photo shows Glendora Mountain Road heading up into the San Gabriels.

My choice for the return home on this most recent Enfield ride was Glendora Mountain Road. It’s equally scenic and a little shorter ride back. My arthritis was bothering me a bit and even though I was having a great time, my shoulder was reminding me I’m not 17 years old anymore. It was a good ride down out of the mountains. There are places on Glendora Mountain Road where you can see Highway 39 and the reservoir above Azusa, as shown in the photo below.

This is a photo stitched together from four photos in PhotoShop. The road at the base of the mountains on the other side of the reservoir is Highway 39, which runs south to Azusa. CSC Motorcycles is located not too far from the notch in the mountains on the left side of this photo.

So there you have it: Glendora Ridge Road, one of So Cal’s best kept secrets. If you’re looking for a great ride, this is it. If you’re up there and you see an old guy on an Enfield nursing his left shoulder, give a wave.

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ExNotes Rally Review: 2022 VJMC 45th Annual Meet In Eureka Springs, Arkansas

I have a hard time in Eureka Springs, Arkansas. The place is cursed, man. I either drink too much and get sick or don’t drink enough and make semi-lucid promises to people I only recognize by their colored lights, shouted conversations and loud music. By one o’clock in the morning Eureka Springs feels like I am wearing those flippers skin-divers wear on their feet. I look back fondly to my post Eureka Springs restroom sessions over a white porcelain toilet. It’s a refuge from the tourist anarchy. As long as I stay hunched over watching the better part of my gastrointestinal system swing lazily before my eyes I can’t possibly get into any more trouble.

Eureka Springs is situated in a steep, narrow gully filled with hippies, old buildings, artists, bars, restaurants, and music. Known for its healing mineral springs the town has always been a tourist spot that gives an buttoned down guy like me the impression he can hang out with the cool cats, if only for a day. It was a false impression.

Regardless of how it happens, I end up with my comically large feet awkwardly slapping the ground unsteadily and in a dead run. It’s my traditional way to leave Eureka Springs. So when Hunter sent me a link about the Vintage Japanese Motorcycle Club holding their 45th annual rally in Eureka Springs the first thought that popped into my head was “Oh no, not again.”

Hunter and I don’t have a lot of time to ride motorcycles lately, you know? Life is speeding by and eventually only one of us can end up owning Godzilla. There’s this whole, cats-in-the-cradle vibe going on. Losing a few years to the pandemic and chasing the American Dream doesn’t help much. What the hell, I’m old and expendable; I’ll try Eureka Springs one more time.

The plan was to meet at Hunter’s place in Oklahoma and ride our vintage Yamaha enduros to Eureka Springs, A distance of 200 miles or so. I tossed Godzilla into the truck and headed east. When I got to Oklahoma Hunter’s bike needed work and it was about 150 degrees outside. We decided to keep on going in my truck as Hunter stores another old Yamaha at his beat up shack in Eureka Springs.

The VJMC event was held in a gigantic Best Western located just outside of downtown Eureka Springs. It was the biggest Best Western I’ve ever seen, the place had three or four buildings, one of which was taken up by the VJMC. We came in on the Saturday and the greater part of the vintage bikes were not there yet. I asked some official-looking VJMC dudes, “Can we wander around and look at the bikes?”

“No, the show is only for VJMC members, if it was outdoors the public could see the bikes but for insurance reasons we can’t let you. You have to sign up for the rally.” There were maybe 20 bikes in the show, mostly Hondas. Hunter tried to explain to them I was a famous moto-journalist but none of the crew at the sign-in desk had heard of Motorcyclist magazine. It’s amazing how fast a star can burn out. The entry fee for the rally was pretty steep. The wizened old codger behind the desk decided to cut us a break. “Now, if you were VJMC members we can let you look around but you can’t participate in rally events.”

I bit, “How much to join the VJMC?” Turns out $35 for a year’s membership and with that you get a subscription to the VJMC magazine, an actual paper magazine. In this manner Hunter and I became part of the VJMC people. It was getting late and the taco truck across from the Best Western was calling our name so we beat it of of there vowing to return the next day when the vintage bike show would be at full strength.

Oark, Arkansas is a gas stop on the Trans America Trail. Oark also sells really good hamburgers. Hunter and me rode bikes down there on Sunday morning before it got too hot. Oark has changed a little since I was there so many years ago. The waitresses were younger and not so abusive. The interior had more tables and it was cleaner. It took some of the edge off the place.

By the time we finished our burgers it was getting late and the vintage bike show was waiting. Eureka Springs gets a lot of Harley-type bikers day tripping on the weekend and we managed to get stuck behind a slow moving train of the stuttering, popping, fart-bikes. They were weaving back and forth in the lane like they saw actor-bikers do in those 1970s Hell’s Angels movies. Hunter peeled off the main road and we blitzed through a small state park. At the other end of the park/short cut we came out just ahead of the fart-bikes. Hunter made it into the lead and I followed up on Godzilla passing the first farter in the train. One of the tattooed ladies riding pillion flipped us the bird as we pulled out in front of them. Just like in the movies. Godzilla laid down a fine blue fog for the fart-people to ride through.

The bike show had around 60 bikes; the majority were Hondas but there were enough Yamahas and Kawasakis to keep the big, red H honest. I didn’t see many Suzukis. The Best Western had two rooms with bikes and they spilled out into the parking lot. I parked Godzilla a discrete distance away so as to not shock the VJMC attendees. The bike show was a judged affair and as such we didn’t stick around to see who won. It doesn’t matter really. They’re all winners in my book. You know, the one I wrote called, “They’re All Winners.”

We missed the VJMC dinners, meetings and group rides because we didn’t sign up for the rally. That kind of geeky fellowship doesn’t appeal to me as much as it used to, and my old Yamaha is so ratty it wouldn’t do well in a show against new-looking bikes. If you like that sort of rally stuff there was plenty of it to do at the 45th VJMC rally.

It was a special day for me on Monday. You see, I’d made it out of Eureka Springs without any cellular level damage. Our old bikes ran fine; we rode about 180 miles over the weekend. I regulated my alcohol consumption and promised nothing to anybody. Staying away from downtown helped, although there was a hippy-dippy gathering at the big, natural amphitheater on the main drag. There was live music. People were dressed funny in purples and pinks. It started to get to me. I wanted to take my clothes off and run around naked but that would be old Eureka Springs behavior.

There are a couple things I would do differently if I was in charge of the VJMC. Of course it’s easy for me to critique because no one will ever put me in charge. The first thing I’d do is get the word out better. I have several vintage Japanese bikes and frequent many vintage sites and social media pages, even the VJMC’s own page on Facebook. I didn’t hear about the 45th until Hunter ran across it somewhere and told me about it.

I’d make event information clearer on the VJMC website. I could never figure out if I had to join the rally to attend the bike show. As a struggling writer, the rally was out of my price range and only when I was at the registration desk did we sort out a work around that allowed me entry to the show. And that was because one of the guys working the desk came up with a nifty plan B.

Next, why not invite the general public? It could increase membership if you charged a $35 entry fee to the bike show that included a year’s membership and a subscription to the magazine. Toss in a T-shirt! Finally, get someone at the VJMC to answer emails. I sent emails to the VJMC president and the person in charge of membership asking about the 45th event: crickets. Maybe the website has outdated contact information. No one has ever got back to me yet. I’m both old and into vintage Japanese bikes so I imagine I’m the target market. Not getting back to old guys makes them cranky.

We made it safely to Hunter’s ranch in Oklahoma and I only got one speeding ticket right as I crossed from Oklahoma’s No Man’s Land into the Texas panhandle. Even that wasn’t so bad as the cop chatted me up about Godzilla. His grandpa had an old RT1-B just like it. When I told Hunter about the ticket he knew the cop. Apparently it’s a popular speed trap. It was good to see Hunter again. It was good to ride a little dirt on the RT1-B. Life is short: go to the vintage bike show, any vintage bike show, if you get a chance.

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Sea Turtles and Kaloko-Honokōhau National Historical Park

Wow: Hawaii is just full of suprises. The adventure on this fine Hawaiian morning was another National Historical Park, lava fields, a rugged downhill (and then uphill) hike over a jagged lava path, sea turtles, and a rotting meat flower (no kidding!). A rotting meat flower? You bet. Read on and you’ll see.

We asked the Park Ranger at the entrance if we would be able to see the sea turtles, and he told us it all depended on what they were doing. “They might be sleeping, they might be out to sea, or they might be eating…you never know until you’re down there.”

Down there meant taking the 1.3-mile hike to the Pacific’s edge, which we proceeded to do. We were lucky; the turtles were out in force munching on the algae that grows on the rocks. They were huge…their shells were maybe three feet long. It was really something to see. There were seven or eight turtles in the shallows when we arrived.

On the return hike Sue noticed an unusually attractive and large flower in a ravine next to the lava path. I had the 24-120 lens on my Nikon and I didn’t want to attempt climbing down the jagged lava to get closer, so I zoomed in and grabbed this shot.

What struck me as unusual about the flower was its size, the fact that it seemed to be growing out of a cactus plant, and the flower’s markings and vibrance. I wasn’t sure how to start researching a flower from a photo, but while I was looking at the photo Google popped up a Wikipedia link. The Wikipedia page had a photo, too, and no doubt about it, it was my flower. Here’s what it said:

Stapelia is a genus of low-growing, spineless, stem succulent plants, predominantly from South Africa with a few from other parts of Africa. Several Asian and Latin American species were formerly included but they have all now been transferred to other genera. The flowers of certain species, most notably Stapelia gigantea, can reach 41 cm (16 inches) in diameter when fully open. Most Stapelia flowers are visibly hairy and generate the odor of rotten flesh when they bloom. The hairy, oddly textured and coloured appearance of many Stapelia flowers has been claimed to resemble that of rotting meat, and this, coupled with their odour, has earned the most commonly grown members of the genus Stapelia the common name of carrion flowers. A notable exception is the sweetly scented Stapelia flavopurpurea. Such odours serve to attract various specialist pollinators including, in the case of carrion-scented blooms, blow flies of the dipteran family Calliphoridae. They frequently lay eggs around the coronae of Stapelia flowers, convinced by the plants’ deception.

I had heard of such flowers and I always wanted to see one. For me this was a first. I know what you are thinking, and no, I didn’t get close enough to take a whiff. Maybe next time.

Here’s the same flyer I showed in a previous post from Hawii. We weren’t on motorcycles on this trip, but rentals are available and I thought the pricing was reasonable.

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A European Moto Blog

One of the recent comments on a Joe Gresh blog post had a website address in it and I visited it. David Skogley’s East Goes West site is a good one. David is an American who lives and Germany and writes about his motorcycle travels in Europe. I wrote to David asking if I could mention his blog on ExNotes and here’s his answer:

Hi Joe,

Many thanks for getting in touch and for your kind words about my blog.

I started the blog about four years ago because I just felt like writing about some of the experiences I was having on bikes in and around Berlin, Germany. I’m certainly not a world traveller (other than long ago on a bicycle) but I figured there probably aren’t that many Americans writing about motorcycling in this neck of the woods, so thought I would give it a shot. In the end, it’s been fun and is interesting to see how my writing has slowly changed, even though I have a very small number of people reading what I put out there. It was never intended to be a money maker, just sort of an online diary, I guess. A way of not forgetting what has gone on in an important part of my life. The writing has become quite sporadic, however, as work (and lethargy) often gets in the way.

I’ve put in very little time or effort regading formatting, and requires a lot of scrolling to find the old entries. Have to change this at some point! Right at the beginning I wrote the following short description/explanation, which is only visible if you go way back to the beginning:

“I moved east to Berlin, Germany from the east coast of the US quite a long time ago. I started riding motorcycles not long after. The intention of this blog is to express some thoughts about motorcycles (and other two-wheeled modes of transportation) and things connected to them.”

A short blog about my blog sounds great! Many thanks for your kind offer.

Regards,

David Skogley

I think you’ll enjoy David’s East Goes West site just as I did. Here’s the link.

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Hawaii Volcanoes National Park

The Big Island, Hawaii, was formed by volcanoes, like the other Hawaiian islands and nearly all others in the Pacific. Five volcanoes formed the Big Island, and one is still active. That’s the Kīlauea volcano. It’s the one you see above. It’s the one we visited recently.

The walk from the park entrance to the Kileaua crater.

It’s a bit of a hike to get to the Kīlauea volcano crater once you enter the Hawaii Volcanoes National Park (the photo above shows the way in), but the hike is worth it. Hawaii Volcanoes National Park is one of the few National Parks in Hawaii that charges admission. I have the brass pass (the senior citizen National Parks lifetime pass), which has to be one of the best deals ever.

The big photo at the top of this blog is the crater, and it was impressive. Hissing steam, a bit of lava flow, and a hint of what this planet is all about. It was only in the last 50 years that the US Navy completely mapped the Pacific floor. The Navy survey found many underwater mountains formed by volcanoes, all in a straight line. A theory emerged that these were formed by the same magma eruption (i.e., a volcano) that created the Hawaiian Islands (which are the end of that straight line). The eruption is a fixed point; the islands and underwater mountains that extend in a thousand-mile-long straight line occurred as a result of tectonic plate shift over this point. Fascinating stuff.

The red glow you see in the photo above is lava in the Kīlauea crater. I was a good half mile or more away from it, but thanks to the 24-120 Nikon lens and a bit of PhotoShop cropping, it looks like I’m right there. Trust me; I wasn’t.

We stayed just outside the Park on Volcano Road in a bed and breakfast tucked away deep in a tropical bamboo forest. It was pretty cool and very remote. Think banana trees, palms, humidity, colorful birds, and everything you might expect to see in an equatorial jungle. We had a herd of wild pigs briefly wander into our yard one afternoon (and I, without a rifle or a camera, could only stare). Surprisingly, the nights were deafening thanks to the Coqui frogs. The Coqui frogs are an invasive species from Puerto Rico. A few evidently hitched rides on plants coming from Puerto Rico to Hawaii. The Coqui have no natural enemies in Hawaii, and they reproduced to levels previously unheard of (folks who know about this stuff estimate the Hawaiian Coqui population density at roughly 2,000 frogs per acre, and with no natural enemies, the levels are still climbing). Well, maybe “unheard of” is probably a poor choice of words. Believe me, at night, all you can hear are the Coqui. Their “croak” is a 100-decibel “Co Kee” and when you multiply that by 2,000 per acre…well, you get the idea. How a tiny frog the size of half your thumb generates that kind of noise is beyond me. It’s deafening and goes from dusk to dawn. The good news is that the Coqui are only in the jungle areas; we didn’t have that problem on the other side of the island.

To state the obvious, you can’t ride your motorcycle to Hawaii. But you can rent a motorcycle there. The going rate is about $200 for a day, and if you rent for several days, the rate drops a bit. The roads through Hawaii are scenic, and in a week on the Big Island you can pretty much take in most of what there is to see. I checked out the motorcycle rentals in Hawaii’s Waikaloa Village. Big Island Motorcycle Company had Harley big twins, Sportsters, and Suzuki V-Stroms, along with Polaris three-wheelers and other vehicles. Gas prices in Hawaii were high, but surprisingly, they were below what gas costs in California these days.

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The Boogie Woogie Bugle Boys of CSC

“Time’s fun when you’re having flies,” as the frogs like to say.

Susie and I were headed north in the Subie and we stopped at the In-N-Out in Gilroy. I had an Animal Style burger. We had just had a nice telephone conversation with Steve Seidner, CEO of CSC Motorcycles. The two events had me thinking about the California Scooter Steve donated to the In-N-Out foundation. I realized that had been 11 years ago. Time speeds up as we age, I think. It feels like it was yesterday.

Steve donated a custom built bike to the In-N-Out charity auction every year during the California Scooter days, each one painted with a custom theme, with all proceeds going to the In-N-Out Foundation. That year, the good folks at In-N-Out asked us to base the color theme on Melanie Troxel’s In-N-Out funny car.

The 2011 In-N-Out California Scooter was simply magnificent. Chrome Lucky 13 wheels, custom paint, a painted frame, a custom seat…ah, the list went on and on. I watched Lupe and Tony put the In-N-Out bike together and it was a hoot.

That year’s In-N-Out dinner and auction was awesome. I met one of the principals in the In-N-Out founding family who took me in tow and explained what the auction was all about, the prizes, and bit of the family’s background. She is a most charming woman…bright, attractive, and articulate. The CSC bike was the major item to be auctioned that year, she explained, and it brought a good chunk of money into the In-N-Out charitable foundation. I met and chatted with Melanie Troxel, the In-N-Out funny car driver, who is bright, articulate, and attractive (are you sensing a theme?). I asked her what it was like to pilot a funny car, and with a wink, she told me it was over before you realized it.

That was quite a night. Those were good times. And those were interesting little motorcycles. We rode them all the way to Cabo San Lucas and back. Yep, we rode to Cabo and back on 150cc motorbikes (you can read that story here). And it all happened more than a decade ago. It seems like it was yesterday. Or did I mention that already?

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A Janus Halcyon 450 Teaser

Boy oh boy, I get to do some cool things. Today’s blog is a quick teaser for an upcoming story on the new Janus Halcyon 450. I won’t spoil the fun other than to say my last stop during a recent trip to Indiana was Janus Motorcycles, where I had an awesome plant tour and a ride on the new Halcyon 450 motorcycle. It was great. The motorcycle was impressive; the company even more so. I’m a big time Janus fan, having ridden their 250 Gryffin model through southern California and northern Baja with a couple of Janus big wheels (you can read that story here). I was pretty sure the 450 would be a wonderful motorcycle, and I was right.

Stay tuned, folks. There’s a lot more to this story.

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National Museum of the US Air Force

Ohio this time, folks, and today’s feature is the National Museum of the United States Air Force. We had been exploring Indiana, and Dayton was a just a short hop across the border. This was part of our great visit with good buddy Jeff, and wow, did we ever have a good time.

The official name, as denoted in the title of the blog, is a mouthful. I’ve heard of this place as the Wright-Patterson air force museum, and it’s been around for a long time. Dayton is a hop, skip, and a jump away from Vandalia, and my Dad visited the air museum decades ago when he competed in the Grand American Trapshoot in that city when I was a kid. I always meant to get here, and thanks to Jeff and my navigator’s travel planning (my navigator, of course, is Susie), I finally made it.

Dayton was also home to the world famous Wright brothers. I recently read a great book about The Wright Brothers by David McCullough, which added greatly to my understanding of their accomplishments.

There were many other early aircraft on display. I probably should have noted what they all were. But I was having too much fun taking available light photos with my Nikon. There’s no flash in any of the pictures in this blog.

There are four main halls in the museum, each dedicated to a specific aviation era. The first is focused on the early days (that’s what you see in the photos above), and the last is focused on more modern military aircraft. There are also exhibits of presidential aircraft, missiles, nuclear weapons, and more.

The missile hall was particularly cool. The photo immediately below shows a nuclear weapon.

The missiles made great photo subjects. I had two lenses with me: The Nikon 24-120 and the Nikon 16-35. Most of these shots are with the wide angle 16-35. Both of these lenses do a great job, the 16-35 even more so in these low light, tight locations.

Here’s another photo of a nuclear (in this case, thermonuclear) bomb. It’s hard to believe that much energy can be packed into such a small envelope.

The Wright-Patterson Museum also had several experimental aircraft. These make for cool photos.

That’s Chuck Yeager’s airplane below…it’s the one he used for breaking the sound barrier (or it’s one just like it).

There was an Apollo display, including the actual Apollo 15 capsule.

Our tour guide told us something I didn’t know before. If the lunar landing module was damaged and couldn’t be repaired such that it could dock with the lunar orbiter, the plan was to leave the guys who landed on the moon there.

One of the displays showed an Apollo astronaut suited up for a moon walk. What caught my attention was the Omega Speedmaster in the display. There’s a very interesting story about that watch the Bulova chronograph worn when one of astronauts was replaced just prior to launch. You can read that story here. I wear one of the modern Bulova lunar pilot watches.

Here’s one of my favorite airplanes of all time: The Lockheed C-130 Hercules. It’s an airplane that first flew in 1954. Analysts believe it will still be flying in 2054. Imagine that: A military aircraft with a century of service.

A long time ago, I went through the Airborne School at Fort Benning, Georgia, and I made a few jumps from a C-130. My last jump was from the C-141 Starlifter jet, an aircraft that was retired from military service several decades ago (even though it was introduced way after the C-130). The C-141 jump was a lot more terrifying to me than was jumping from a C-130.

In a C-130 you have to jump up and out to break through the boundary layer of air that travels with the C-130. Because you jump up and out, it was like jumping off a diving board…you never really get a falling sensation (even though you drop more than a hundred feet before the parachute opens). On a C-141, though, you can’t do that. If you jump up and out, you’ll get into the jet exhaust and turn yourself to toast. The C-141 deploys a shield just forward of the door, so the drill is to face the door at a 45-degree angle and simply step out. When that happens, you fall the same distance as you do when exiting a C-130, but you feel every millimeter. It scared the hell out of me.

The Museum also has a section displaying prior presidential aircraft…different versions of Air Force One. That was also fascinating. One of the Air Force One planes is the 707 that was took President Kennedy to Dallas, and then returned with his body that afternoon.

Jackie Kennedy would not allow JFK’s coffin to be stowed in the freight compartment on the flight back to Washington. She wanted it to fly with her in the passenger compartment. An enterprising flight engineer obtained a hacksaw and cut away part of the bulkhead just ahead of the rear passenger door, which allowed the coffin to make the turn into the aircraft.

There were other presidential aircraft on display as well, including the one used by Franklin Roosevelt and Harry Truman.

Not everywhere a president flies can handle a large jet, so sometimes Presidents use small executive jets. One of the first of these bizjets used for Air Force One (any airplane carrying the President is designated Air Force One) was a small Lockheed. President Lyndon Johnson called the small Lockheed executive jet below “Air Force One Half.”

It was a good day, and a full day. Even spending a good chunk of our day at the Museum, we were only able to see two of the four halls. That made for a good day, but if you want to see the entire Museum, I think it would be wise to allow for a two-day visit.

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