Big Boy And The Mother Of Intentions

By Joe Gresh

Motorcycle riding gives you a good excuse to go places and see things, not that you need an excuse. I like a steam train, I have a motorcycle, thus riding up to Ogden, Utah to see a big old steam train seemed like a sensible thing to do.

My Carrizozo Mudchuckers buddy, Mike, was all for the idea so we planned to meet Big Boy, the last of the steam locomotives, in Ogden, where the train would stop for two days. As we waited for the appointed day the normally beautiful New Mexico weather cooled and became cloudy with rising damp. Ogden, being 900 miles north of us, was experiencing the same weather degradation except much, much colder.

Just a few days before leaving there was snow and rain in Utah. A 75-car pile up in Denver, and rain and cold all along our route north, had us thinking “this ride will suck.” I kept watching the weather reports hoping for a better forecast, but it looked like miserable weather the entire trip north only starting to ease off a bit on the Monday we would start riding home from Ogden.

I have plenty of cold weather riding gear. Things like electric vests, heated grips and a plastic rain suit can keep you warm enough. I’ll use them if there is no other option. But there was another, simpler option: Don’t ride into the rain and cold.

One day before were planned to leave I called the Mudchucker and said: How about we go to Willow Springs for vintage motorcycle racing instead? Call me a fair weather rider but sunny California was an easy sell. We dumped Ogden and the Big Boy steam train faster than oil prices rose after we bombed Iran.

The Mudchucker taking a break from headwinds.

The plan worked. We left town a day later than the Big Boy run. That allowed some of the bad weather to move east. Our first day on the road was cool, cloudy but comfortable, the second day we had strong headwinds and 40-degree cold, but nothing nearly as painful as the stuff we would have experienced earlier and further north.

We mostly followed old Route 66 west jumping on and off Interstate 40 as required. It was an odd time of year I guess. The entire town of Seligman was closed: Gas stations, food markets, all shuttered. Further on we rolled into tiny reservation villages with nothing available to buy or rent. I admit, traffic was light on historic Route 66.  If a guy set up a food truck he’d starve to death.

On westward we rode, through Kingman down to Oatman. Again, every store in the tourist-friendly little donkey-town of Oatman was closed. The day ran long, we needed ice cream, it was getting dark, I couldn’t see much through the dark face shield on my helmet, and we pulled into an abandoned gas station to check out the motel situation in Needles. The Mudchucker was tired. He stopped next to me and toppled over. I tried to hold us up but the combined weight of Mike, his Moto Guzzi V7 and my ZRX1100 Kawasaki was too much.

We went down like the stock market after we instituted tariffs.  The bikes were stacked against each other much like the system is stacked against the common man. It took a bit of doing to untangle them and lift the bikes upright. Damage was light: a few dings in the right-side Guzzi jug, a busted turn signal, scratched gas tank, and bent brake levers on the ZRX1100. Amazingly, there were no dents or major issues.

Not a lot of damage for tossing one bike on top of another.

A homeless guy camped at the gas station saw the whole thing. He didn’t laugh or say anything. He must have thought we were total losers.

The tip over had us in a melancholy mood. In the motel that evening we talked about that inevitable day, our strength gone, our skeletons frail, the day when we could no longer ride. Mike felt a side car was the way to go. I favored a three cylinder, two stroke, Kawasaki-powered gurney.

But gurney-time isn’t here yet and by the third day we were riding along basking in the warm Mojave desert. Things were looking up and thoughts of our physical decay burned away. Or maybe we just forgot we were falling apart. I hear that happens but I can’t remember where I heard it. Route 66 to Amboy was closed so we had to stay on Interstate 40, only returning to Route 66 west after paying $7.50 per gallon of gas at Ludlow.

Some kind of inspection station east of Barstow on Route 66.

Out of Barstow we rode past Hinkley, the toxic-water town made famous by Julia Roberts and Erin Brockovich. We made it to Lancaster, our base camp for Willow Springs.

Lancaster is an interesting place. On the back roads we came in on there were piles of trash dumped everywhere. I guess the town doesn’t have a dump. Or maybe the dump fee is too high so people drive out of town a few miles and drop their load. It reminded me of the trash piles I used to pick through in the Florida Everglades. You can find some good metal in those piles.

I saw some nice chairs 5 miles from Lancaster.  If I had the Toyota truck, I would have grabbed them. There was a lot of broken concrete that would make excellent fill back at the ranch. Drywall was another popular item on the side of the road. Once in town things cleaned up slightly, and Lancaster looked much the same as other generic, California desert towns: New chain stores along the highway, decomposing shops, homeless people and frequent stop lights in the old sections.

The Wyndham motel on Avenue I was new and along the highway. They have a pretty good breakfast setup. There were the usual sausage paddies, scrambled eggs and pour-your-own waffles. We waddled out to the bikes and rode the 20 miles to Willow Springs racetrack.

Vintage motorcycle racing is mostly a family affair. Spectators not directly involved with the racing or supporting the racers are rare and we had the grandstands to ourselves. Multitudes of classes meant non-stop action all day long.

Lots of races and classes to keep track of at an AHRMA event. You won’t leave the track unsatisfied.

AHRMA racing covers all eras with heavy emphasis on bikes that were never actually raced back in the day, at least compared to the races I saw as a youth. Honda 160s are a popular class and an example of bikes that were never raced where I grew up.

Sloper 160 Hondas are strangely popular. I had one as a teen. In stock form they would hit 75 MPH. In race trim a bit faster.

An unusual number of Moto Gizzards circulated the Big Willow track. Maybe because they were so popular, only a few Yamaha Twins survived to race AHRMA. Most of the race bikes were 4-strokes.  In the 1970s that ratio would be flipped and 2-strokes ruled the track. I guess the point is to run what you want and have fun with it.

The RD350 went from a mainstay of road racing to a rare bird at historic events.

The Willow races were not as well attended as the Laguna Seca AHRMA events. Laguna Seca is set in soft, coastal hills and has space for vintage motocross along with a vintage trials section. The camping at Laguna Seca is better. I suppose you can camp at Willow but it’s more of a motor home type camping than a tent. I’m not sure what happened between AHRMA and Laguna Seca and it’s none of my business, but I wish they would get it sorted out and go back to Laguna.

Nice, clean, crappers at Willow. A clean crapper makes the day just that much nicer.

Willow isn’t bad, mind you. The racetrack recently sold and the new owners are fixing it up a bit. There are several tracks and the food concession was better than Laguna. You can get a decent meal at Willow.

The last time I was at Willow Springs was in the 1970s. The pit looks the same and there are added buildings along the front straight. My memories are dimming and I can’t remember why I was there in the ’70s, but it was probably motorcycle racing of some sort.

If you take away the little houses, pit row looks about the same as I remember from the 1970s.
Kawasaki built a Superbike production racer called the S2. I don’t know if this is one but it looks like one.
Suzuki big-block race bike. Although, it could be a 750. I didn’t look that close.
SR500. Great bike from Yamaha unfortunately suffering from The Slows. My XL350 could stay with them through the gears and pull away at top end.
Roper and Fulton on Italian Harley-Davidsons. About 100 years of racing experience in this photo. They are faster than you. Sorry about the cell phone photo.
Zippy Yamaha 100cc twin. I might get a stocker one of these one day.
CA110(?) I have one of these in pieces waiting for assembly. The engine is shot so I bought a clone 140cc overhead cam engine. It fits the gram and clears the front wheel by 1/4-inch.
Manx Norton. For a while these 500cc singles ruled the road racing world. Still faster than a SR500.
If you don’t like crowds you’ll love AHRMA racing.

Rosamond, the town closest to Willow has grown quite a bit and lots of housing developments are being thrown together. Eventually someone will build houses around Willow if the new owners don’t do it first.

The ride back to New Mexico was full-on warm. We took backroads from Lancaster to Victorville and sort of paralleled Interstate 10 along Yucca Valley and Twentynine Palms to Parker, Arizona. Our miles per day were shrinking and we were stopping more often. Temperatures reached 95 along the sparsely populated Highway 62.

I was smelling the barn, you know? I kind of lost it on the last day in Show Low. We woke up at 4:30 am to get an early start. I wanted to get home and the Mudchucker was leisurely watching TV and eating a bagel. By 8:30 a.m., I had been awake 4 hours and drank 16 cups of coffee waiting. I had a lot of pent-up nervous energy.

Maybe 7 days on the road rubbed my nerves raw. It doesn’t seem like an asset.

Finally underway, we burned up the highway into New Mexico, a slight frost between us, and I managed to get home at a decent time (before dark). I’m starting to wonder if 7 days on the road is too much for me. Riding motorcycles with a partner is a series of compromises strung together with miles and miles of pavement. Are the compromises worth the companionship? I’m sure I must annoy the Mudchucker at times.

Maybe I’m just getting old and cranky. At least, that’s the excuse I’m going to use.


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Jameson’s Classic Motorcycle Museum

By Joe Berk

Time has a way of creeping up on you.  In looking over my list of Motorcycle Classics “Destinations” articles, I was surprised to see I’ve been pitching and publishing stories for the magazine for 20 years.  It all started when a nice young fellow named Landon Hall, MC‘s Associate Editor at the time, saw a few photos I had posted online and asked if I’d be interested in doing a piece for the magazine.  Hell, yeah, I would (and I did).  I wrote a lot of stories on a lot of fun destinations.  I’m not bragging here, folks.  I’m just getting old.

A new editorial staff recently came on board at Motorcycle Classics, and my new editor asked if I could focus more on motorcycle museums.  As a freelancer, I learned a long time ago that you don’t argue with people who buy ink by the barrel, so I set about finding moto museums.  This led me to discover Jameson’s Classic Motorcycle Museum in Pacific Grove, California.  I’d never heard of the Jameson before.  Come to think of it, I’d never heard of Pacific Grove, either.   Both turned out to be pure slices of heaven, as did the ride there and our return home.

Neil Jameson, the man who created Jameson’s Classic Motorcycle Museum.

The story behind the Jameson is a fascinating one, and I heard it firsthand from Staci Jameson Hayes.  Neil Jameson was the man who created the Museum (Staci is his daughter).  Neil is no longer with us, but while he graced our world, he was one hell of a man.  He grew up in Hollister, California, and I found myself wondering if his interest in motorcycles came about as a result of that town’s moto history.  Jameson started as a goat farmer, became a firefighter, and along the way, he became a world class  businessman, investor, and wheeler dealer (Staci told me he was a horse trader extraordinaire).  Neil’s time with us ended in 2021, and during his 82 years on this planet, he was a motorcycle enthusiast, an adventure rider, and a motorcycle collector.

Jameson’s Classic Motorcycle Museum is at 305 Forest Avenue in Pacific Grove, California, directly across the street from the police station and city hall.  Neil Jameson bought the building to showcase his collection in 2010; it formerly housed the local newspaper.

The Jameson’s Classic Motorcycle Museum collection is eclectic.  Many of the bikes were owned and ridden by Neil (including the ’72 R75 BMW that he rode to the Arctic Circle and back).  Some have been restored to original condition; others are in their as-ridden-by-Neil condition.  The restorations were performed by Emma Booton, a woman Staci describes as The Restoration Goddess.  I’ve been to a lot of museums; the restorations at the Jameson are stunning.

Peering into the Museum through the front door.
Another view of the collection through a wide-angle lens. I recently learned that the best photos of a motorcycle are shot at knee height; getting down and back up again to do that is not as easy as it used to be.
Jameson’s Classic Motorcycle Museum has several BMWs. Neil Jameson rode the one in the center of this photo to the Arctic Circle.

As mentioned above, the Jameson collection is eclectic.  For the most part, the bikes are “everyman” motorcycles, the kind you or I might have owned and ridden.  Several of the machines really spoke to me, including a 1982 T140E Triumph Electro.   By the early 1980s, the original Triumph motorcycle company was in a death spiral.  The Electro, an electric start motorcycle, was an attempt by Triumph to counter Japan’s moto success.  It was too little and too late, but it was a valiant and magnificent effort.  The Jameson’s Electro is the first I have ever seen.

A Triumph Bonneville Electro, a gorgeous motorcycle.
The Electro’s colors are magnificent. Note the timing/cam cover casting, enlarged to accept an electric starter.

Japanese street bikes of the 1970s and 1980s are well represented, including several that showcase the engineering accomplishments and marketing experiments of the era.

The Jameson has stunning Kawasaki two-stroke triples, in both 500cc and 750cc flavors.
Let the good times roll: Fiercely fast with acceleration measured on the Richter scale, and handling that could only be described as scary.
Before venturing into big-bore four strokes, Suzuki tried a couple of interesting and unconventional concepts. One was their rotary-engined street bike.
Just in case you missed the point…
Kawasaki had air-cooled big bore two-stroke street bikes; Suzuki chose water cooling for their 750cc two-stroke triple. This bike was affectionately known as the Water Buffalo.
Trust me on this: The Suzuki water-cooled two-stroke triple is a mechanical engineering work of art.

Think CHiPs:  Back in the day, the California Highway Patrol and many local law enforcement agencies used the Kawasaki KZ1000P police motorcycle.  West of the Mississippi River, Kawasaki owned the police motorcycle market (Harley police motors dominated the police market east of the Mississippi).  Jameson’s Classic Motorcycle Museum displays a Kawasaki KZ1000P, and the motorcycle didn’t have to travel very far to get into the collection.

The Kawasaki police bikes are beautiful. Their performance was considerably better than Harley’s, with better acceleration, better braking, higher top speed, and run-flat tires.
Jameson’s Classic Motorcycle Museum’s police Kawasaki came from the Pacific Grove Police Department, which is directly across the street from the Museum.

There’s a Bonneville Salt Flats bike, too.  It’s a 1965 Honda CB-160 streamliner.  My father’s first motorcycle was a 1965 Honda CB-160.  I’m pretty sure this one is faster than my Dad’s bike.

A small-displacement Honda streamliner.
Another view of the Honda LSR bike.

As mentioned above, Jameson’s Classic Motorcycle Museum has a great collection of British motorcycles.    BSAs, Bonnevilles, and Nortons were the hot ticket in the 1960s, and all three are well represented in the Museum.

A BSA Firebird Scrambler. BSA had this hot rod; Triumph had the Bonneville. The 1960s were a glorious time for British motorcycles.

My two favorite motorcycles of the many beautiful machines on display in the Jameson are the Triumph Electro described above, and an absolutely stunning Ariel Square Four.  Ariel based the Square Four’s engine design on two 500cc twins in series, and the result was a visually-arresting motorcycle dominated by its engine.  Finished in a deep maroon livery, the Museum’s Square Four is an amazing specimen.

An Ariel Square Four, a massive and impressive motorcycle.
A tighter shot of the Ariel Square Four engine. This is a beautiful machine.

Pacific Grove, California, is a nice little town bordered by the Pacific Ocean, the Del Monte Forest, and the City of Monterey.  We rode out to the lighthouse and watched huge waves crashing into the breakers for a bit.

Looking down Forest Avenue, standing in front of Jameson’s Classic Motorcycle Museum. That’s the Pacific Ocean out there.
Land’s end on the Monterey peninsula.

We fell in love with Pacific Grove, the coastal community in which Jameson’s Classic Motorcycle Museum is located.  Everything about the place and everyone we met made us feel like we belonged there, including Staci and her husband, Russ.  The town just feels comfortable and it’s a place we’d like to visit again.    We enjoyed a fantastic lunch at Toasties, which was surprisingly reasonably priced (especially considering the area).  I’m told that Pepper’s Mexicali Café’s burritos are world class.  Both restaurants are within a mile of the Museum (Pepper’s is only a block away).  Our ride into Pacific Grove took us past the Naval Postgraduate School and the Defense Language Institute; the ride back home took us along California State Route 68, California State Route 17, and the Chualar River Road through the Salinas Valley.  It was all magnificent.


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ExNotes Event Review: AHRMA Motofest, Monterey, California

By Joe Gresh

After riding through the stifling heat of Utah, Nevada and central California the cold, foggy mists of the Monterey Peninsula penetrated my mesh jacket and I shivered. It was wonderful to be cold and it was wonderful to be at Laguna Seca’s Weather Tech Raceway. This wasn’t my first visit to Laguna Seca but it was my first time inside the track. Years ago I rode up from San Diego back when Laguna Seca was a date on the world championship calendar. Today, Austin’s COTA circuit has usurped that role in America but Laguna Seca is still way prettier.

Two strokes ruled Moto GP racing in that era and when I pulled up to the entrance gate the $50 ticket price almost gave me a stroke.  I was earning $3.50 an hour working on boats and $50 was a ton of money. I figured the hell with it and went to the Monterey Bay Aquarium instead. Oddly enough, the entry fee for AHRMA’s Motofest vintage racing was still 50 dollars some 40 years on. This time I paid for a ticket because riding from La Luz, New Mexico is a long way to go for nothing.

Motels around Monterey are sort of expensive. Your best deal is the 4-day camping pass at the track. I bought a reserved campsite because I wasn’t sure how things worked inside. Turns out there were plenty of campsites available for this event. I had site 110A, which gave me a view of turn 5 in one direction and a view of the bikes going up Rahal hill to the Corkscrew in the other direction.

Site A-110: it’s a good place to spend the weekend.

Plenty of portable toilets were sprinkled around the venue and hot showers were available in the more substantial structures. All the faucets were marked non-potable so bring plenty of water. I had to buy those little bottled waters in the paddock at $3 a bottle. The ground at my site was pretty hard so I never got my flimsy aluminum tent pegs to penetrate. Luckily my site had an old steel spike that someone left behind. I drove the spike into the hard ground on the windward side, tied the tent to the spike and used my gear to hold the other three corners down. The hydraulic jack came in handy as a hammer.

I say the ground was hard but apparently the hundreds of ground squirrels had no problem burrowing holes every 15 feet. The squirrels are all over the place at Weather Tech. I’m surprised that an aged vintage motorcycle racer hasn’t fallen in a squirrel hole and broken a leg. I’ve heard that when they get up in years it’s best to shoot them rather than let them suffer.

Me and Milich, he’s tall with a lot of drag but still wins.  You can visit Milich’s websites at http://guzzipower.com/ and https://www.ducpower.com/.
Thad Wolf’s Suzuki. I never did find Wolff, he must have known I was looking for him.

Thursday was practice all day. The bikes were sent out in groups with staggered starts. There are a lot of classes in AHRMA, like dozens, to keep track of but I mostly just listened for two-strokes. AHRMA’s Motofest had a sort of mini Motorcyclist magazine reunion vibe. The Kevin Hipp racing family was there along with Thad Wolff and Ed Milich. Go-Go Gulbransen, whose name the announcer never tired of uttering was there also. Go-Go was the guy who tested the upper limits of new sport bikes for Motorcyclist magazine. All these guys live and breathe motorcycles and it’s the passion you can’t fake that made them such good journalists.

This might be a real S2 Kawasaki production racer. Very few were built. You had to know somebody.

Vintage racing today looks a bit different from when the motorcycles were current models. Hondas seem to dominate. The 160cc slopers, 175 twins and 350 twins were much faster than I remember them. In fact, I don’t remember them racing at all. I assume it’s due to better oils and electronic ignition systems, because in the old days the small bore grids were mostly Yamahas with a few Suzukis and Kawasakis. If there was a Honda racing it was usually sputtering at the tail end of the pack and the rider was wearing construction boots and welding leathers. Of course, things were different at the GP/factory level where Honda did all right for itself considering the handicap it was working under. It helps to have Mike Hailwood and Freddie Spenser on your team.

A brace of H2s these sounded good when they pulled in.
Jewel-like T500cc twin Suzuki. This was a revolutionary bike when it came out. Some people thought you couldn’t go this big without heating problems. Another bike I want to own one day.
Zoomie RD 350 with DG sunburst heads. Going for that squish band action.
A pile of Ossas. These are Stilettos; I want a Pioneer.
Thames van. I imagine it’s British.
Stretched Honda Mini Trail with custom Grom-based block. 350cc, tops out around 100 miles per hour. I asked the kid if it was dangerous. He said he lived in Oakland, so it was the least dangerous thing he did.

After setting up camp I walked all over Laguna Seca: I needed the exercise after sitting on the ZRX1100 for five long days. To get to Monterey I took the long way around, up through Colorado to Grand Junction then across Utah and Nevada to California. I tried to ride Highway 120 through Yosemite Park but the road was closed. I detoured north from Lee Vining to Highway 108 and was rewarded with one of the world’s great motorcycle roads. Anyway, from my campsite to the paddock was only a 15-minute walk. Less if you didn’t tangle with a ground squirrel.

Vintage racing is all about the paddock. The racing, while serious, is almost secondary to checking out the old race bikes. The paddock is where the food is, where the beer is and where the old motorcycles are. Most of the spectators hang out in the paddock area. I wandered around for hours looking at motorcycles. I ate a turkey sandwich and drank a beer that was like 28 dollars but we need to support the moneymaking aspect of Laguna Seca or it’ll become luxury housing.

Turn 4 action.
Yamaha RD400 scooting right along.

Saturday and Sunday were race days. I hung out with Motorcyclist Magazine alumni Ed Milich for a bit. Ed has an admirable cost per win philosophy in that he expends just enough effort to get first place and no more. His bikes look like hell but they run great. Paint don’t win races, says Ed. On the track he never seems to be trying hard, the gap between him and second place grew larger as if by magic. Ed won every race he entered (four) I did some math and determined that Ed spends around $4.37 per win. Hipp won his races also. Hipp’s bikes are those fast Honda 350s and they look like show bikes. Hipp’s wins probably cost more than Milich’s, but they still count.

Montessssa on the trials course.

Sunday morning I went over to the trials section. Set in gullies and on the sides of hills, trials riding never looks too hard until you try it. Trials events at the level Laguna Seca puts on have the advantage of being relatively safe as the speeds are very low and you can’t fall very far. This isn’t the crazy stadium trials you watch on YouTube but it suits the old motorcycles participating. I might try the trials on Godzilla next time I go to Laguna.

The legend Dave Roper. I think he’s still the only American to win at the Isle of Man races.
Walt Fulton fetteling his XR750.

With such wildly different motorcycles it’s hard to compare rider skill. Except when it comes to Dave Roper: Roper, who resembles a stick of beef jerky with a cotton ball stuck on one end, was smooth and fast on any bike he rode. Roper and Walt Fulton, with a combined 300 years of racing experience, put on quite a show with their matching H-D branded, Aermacchi Sprints. There was a vintage motocross at Laguna Seca but it ran concurrent with some other races so I missed it. You really need to be two people to see all the action at AHRMA’s Vintage Motofest.

Nice, tank shift flattie. This bike sounded good on the track, very low rpm drone.

It was nice to have the campsite for Sunday night; I didn’t have to rush to pack and head out into the unforgiving freeways of California in the late afternoon. Wherever I ride the ZRX1100 it attracts attention. I’ve had people take selfie photographs standing next to the bike, I get asked what year it is almost every ride. The thing is bone stock. Laguna Seca was no different, the bike garnered a steady stream of complements from my camp neighbors. I must look hard up because the guy camping across from me handed me 40 dollars and said I had dropped it. I think he was trying to be nice to a vagabond. Normally I would have taken it but I’m trying to become a better person and told the guy it wasn’t mine.

Californians and Ex-Californians like to bitch about their state, but the damn place is beautiful. California has it all from the beaches to the mountains to the desert and all types of terrain in between. With straight roads crowded by farm equipment, the central valley (also known as The Breadbasket of America) was like the Tail of the Dragon for my nose. Sweet manure, grassy hay, dust and soil, the smells kept swapping back and forth giving my nasal passages whiplash.  If it wasn’t so expensive, I’d live in California again but my total running costs at Tinfiny Ranch are less than the annual taxes on any house I could afford there. The Californians I met were universally friendly and interesting to talk to, we would start up a conversation like we had known each other for years and had just spoken last Thursday.

I’ll go to AHRMA’s Monterey bash again. It’s closer than Daytona for me and with the camping, about the same cost. I give the event high marks for value. You really get your 50 dollars worth with AHRMA.


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Want the story on the ZRX resurrextion?  It’s right here.

Phavorite Photos: Odonata Porn

By Joe Berk

You might be wondering if we are switching to an x-rated site.  We are not. I just happened to be out and about with my camera when the above photo op emerged and I grabbed it.  I think it is probably one of the best nature shots I ever grabbed, although I have similar one with a couple of raccoons but that’s a photo for another Phavorite Photos blog.

We were out servicing a water treatment site in California’s Yucca Valley.  In those days I was lugging around a real tank of a camera:  The Nikon F5.  It was Nikon’s top of the line film camera when film still ruled.  The camera was huge and it weighed a ton, and I compounded the felony by mounting a 180mm Sigma macro lens on it.  I had ridden my Suzuki TL 1000S there (I could fit the camera and it’s lens into my tail bag).  The best thing about that job was that I could combine a lot of extra-curricular into my work, like motorcycle rides and photography.

Back to the Odanata story.  Odonata is the entomological classification for three groups of insects.  One of those groups includes dragonflies, and the dragonflies were out in force that fine California day.  And I was lucky to have brought that 180mm Sigma macro lens with me.  It was perfect for the photo ops that presented themselves that day.  I tried pictures in flight, but I had no luck.  When the painted ladies stopped on a twig or a weed or a branch, though, I was in Fat City.   I dropped the film off at our local Costco (they still sold and processed film in those days), I did a little shopping (I love Costco), and an hour later, they were ready.  The photo guy told me it was very unusual to see photos this “perfect.”  I took the compliment.   The pictures looked good on the 4×6 prints; they looked even better on my computer.

Both the F5 and the 180mm Sigma lens have gone down the road.  Digital took over from film, I went full bore into the digital world, and I found the 180mm Sigma macro lens wasn’t good for much else besides fornicating dragonflies.   Today I use a Sigma 50mm macro for all my closeup work (it’s about as perfect a lens as I’ve ever used for macrophotography), and my cameras are either Nikon’s D810, the D3300, or my cell phone.


Earlier Phavorite Photos?  You bet!  Click on each to get their story.


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Mustang Reborn: California Scooter Company

It was a bad one as motorcycles accidents go, and my recovery was a lengthy one.  A friend contacted me and asked if (while I was recovering) I’d like to write Internet responses to the keyboard commandos badmouthing a company making a new Mustang motorcycle.  Would I ever…and that’s how I hooked up with CSC Motorcycles and the modern Mustang.  The story is fascinating.  Here’s a bit of it, which appeared as a sidebar to my Motorcycle Classics Mustang article.


Ed Seidner founded one of the largest motorcycle superstores in the country, Bert’s Mega Mall in Covina, California, which today sells new Hondas, Ducatis, Triumphs and more. Son Steve ran that operation until he branched out on his own, starting motorcycle accessory company Pro-One Performance Manufacturing.

Ed never had a Mustang, but his friend Billy Buster had one when they were kids and Ed always wanted one. Steve grew up hearing stories about Billy Buster and his Mustang, so he decided to do something about it. He bought an unrestored 1954 Mustang on eBay and took it home to the Pro-One production facility to restore it, a surprise gift for Ed. Steve quickly discovered three things: Customers walked right past ultra-sleek Pro-One V-twins for a better look at the unrestored Mustang, the Mustang was
a simple design, and the little bike was solid. In fact, after Steve drained the stale gas, cleaned the fuel lines and filled the bike’s peanut tank, the old Mustang started on the first kick.

A 1954 unrestored Mustang with a new CSC-150 California Scooter.

Steve’s response was swift. With the 56-year-old Mustang as a template, he started California Scooter Company (www.californiascooterco.com), making the bikes he believes Mustang would build today. The new CSC motorcycles are EPA and CARB approved with modern amenities like electric start, turn signals, speedometer, hydraulic disc brakes, etc.

The bikes are built in La Verne, California, about 30 miles from the original Mustang factory, while the engines are sourced from Asia. Three years after introducing the 150cc CSC 150, CSC introduced the 250cc P51, taking the P51 designation from the World War II Mustang airplane. With its larger 250cc counterbalanced single overhead cam engine, the P51 absolutely rips. The Mustang formula — short wheelbase, light weight and 12-inch wheels — still works.

CSC-150 Mustang Replicas in Baja. That’s the Sea of Cortez in the background. We were at the Tropic of Cancer when I snapped this photo.  We rode our CSC-150s all the way down to Cabo San Lucas and back without a single breakdown.

So how does the new compare to the old? Fully broken in, my 150cc red CSC Classic tops out at about 66mph. With their 320cc engines, the original Mustangs were crazy fast. My geezer buddies tell me a stock Mustang would do 70mph (how they knew that is beyond me, as Mustangs didn’t get speedometers until the late 1950s). I’ve touched 80mph on the new P51.

I’ve ridden vintage Mustangs, but because of their value I was afraid to push them too hard. The old Mustangs feel a little wobbly to me, but of course they have old forks and old tires. The new bikes benefit from more than 50 years of advancements in technology. When I take my CSC on Glendora Ridge Road, the bike is light, tight and an absolute delight through the twisties. Which bike is faster or better is moot. Both are awesome, and each offers a riding experience like no other. There’s one fact, though, that riders of vintage Mustangs and new California Scooters both have to accept:
You can’t go anywhere without drawing a smiling crowd. — Joe Berk


As I mentioned in the prelude to this blog, when I wrote the Mustang story for Motorcycle Classics magazine I was also a consultant to CSC Motorcycles.  CSC Motorcycles stopped producing Mustang replicas a few years ago (around the same they started importing the advernture touring RX3), so there are no more new California Scooter Mustang replicas.  But the modern Mustangs do come up for sale now and then, and the best way to find one is by contacting CSC directly. If you’d like to know more about CSC, their Mustang replicas, and how the company became the North American importer of Zongshen motorcycles, you should pick up a copy of 5000 Miles At 8000 RPM.


Would you like to know about our CSC Mustang ride through Baja, as well other forays into Baja?   It’s all right here, in full color, in Moto Baja!


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Estrella Warbird Museum

Paso Robles’ Estrella Warbird Museum is way more than just warbirds.  There are military vehicles, a munitions display, classic cars, race cars, vintage motorcycles, small arms, and more.  And then it’s in Paso Robles, a worthy destination all on its own.  We’ll touch on each of these in this blog.

First, the warbirds.  There are a bunch on display, and there are two I feel most connected with personally…one is the F4 Phantom, and the other is the F-16 Air Combat Fighter.

That’s an F4 at the top of this blog.  It’s what the USAF was flying when I was stationed at Kunsan AFB back in the mid-1970s, and it is an impressive airplane.  I was on a HAWK air defense site just off Kunsan, high up on a mountain top overlooking Kunsan.  We could pick up the F4s as they started their takeoff roll on Kunsan’s runway.  When our high-powered illuminators locked on, the pilots knew it in the cockpit.  They’d take off on full afterburner (a sensory and sensual delight for anyone who witnessed it), execute a quick 180, and then fly directly at my missile site coming in at just under Mach 1 below the top of our mountain.  They were trying to break the lock my scope dopes had on them.  Then, at the last minute, they’d climb just enough to clear the tops of the HIPIR’s Mickey Mouse ears.  The radars would flip around 180 degrees in two axes with such force that one side of the radar’s support legs would clear the ground by 6 inches.  Ah, those were grand and glorious days.  At night, in the Kunsan AFB Officers Club, the Air Force jet jocks would ask me about the radars.  My answer was always the same:  Sorry, I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.  They’d laugh.  They thought I was joking.

When I left the Army, my first job was on General Dynamic’s F-16 engineering team, and just about every defense industry job I’ve had since was somehow associated with something on that airplane.  Munitions, 20mm Gatlings, fuel tanks, aerial refueling systems, ejection seats…it all seemed to come back to the F-16.  I loved being around that airplane.

Well, okay…maybe one more airplane, and that’s the F-86.  Yeah, it’s been obsolete for decades.  But when I was at Kunsan AFB in the mid-1970s, the ROK Air Force (as in Republic of Korea) still flew the F-86.   It’s a  svelte little bit of a fighter, and it was on display at the Estrella Warbirds Museum.

As soon as you enter the Estrella Museum, there’s a small arms display.  Hey, I love that sort of thing, and this display grabbed my attention.

I caught something the Estrella curators missed.  See those red arrows in the photo above?  That rifle was labeled as a Mosin-Nagant.  I know my Mosins, and this wasn’t one of them.  It was maybe a Mauser, but most definitely not a Mosin. I told one of the docents. She thanked me, but I don’t think she understood what I was telling her.

The Estrella Museum had a munitions display, too.  It was cool.  I like bombs and bullets.  And mines.  A mine is a terrible thing to waste, you know.

The Museum also houses the Woodland Automobile Display, which includes classic cars and race cars with an emphasis on dirt track oval racers.  The collection was extensive, interesting, and photogenic.

There were military vehicles and motorcycles, too.  I’ll get to those in a second, but first, take a look at this.  How about a water-cooled Harley Knucklehead engine used in midget racing?  That’s what you see in the photo below.

The engine you see above is a Drake-modified Harley V-twin, and it was way ahead of its time.  The Drake/Harley was called a “popper” because it vibrated so much.  These engines produced close to 100 horsepower, and that was way back in the 1940s.  100 horsepower.  Water cooled.  Harley, how could you have ignored this back then?

The Estrella Warbird Museum also has a few interesting military motorcycles, including a World War II US Army WL Harley, an M20 BSA single (used by the British in World War II), and real oddity…a 98cc World War II Welbike used by British paratroopers.

For me, a big part of the Estrella Warbirds Museum was its location.  I love the Paso Robles area.  Getting there is easy.  If you’re coming from the North, pick up the El Camino Real (Highway 101) south.  If you’re coming from the south, it’s the 101 north.  Take California State Route 46 east,  Airport Road north, and watch for the signs.

The best kept secrets in this area?  The obvious ones are not secrets at all:  The riding in and around San Luis Obispo County is awesome.  Paso Robles is a wine producing region, and there are plenty of vineyards.  You can ride west on State Route 46 to get to the Pacific Coast Highway, one of the premier motorcycle roads in the world (it intersects the PCH near Cambria and Hearst Castle; both are worthy destinations).   For a world-class dinner, ride just a few miles south to McPhee’s Grill in Templeton (make reservations, though…you won’t get in without a reservation).  There are great missions all along the 101 attesting to the region’s early Spanish influence (they followed the El Camino Real in developing the missions, you know), including the nearby San Luis Obispo and San Miguel Missions.  Paso Robles is a California destination, and the riding is good year round.  If you’re going in the winter months, dress accordingly.  If you’re riding in the summer, stay hydrated.


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More cool museums?   Hey, you bet!