SANTA BARBARA BMW RIDERS, INC.

 

May ISSUE OF "THE NEWS"

EDITORS ARTICLE
 

"I say let him (Clyde) take a 10lb smiter to them (motorcycles) in the parking lot and forget about 'em."

Could you imagine the motorcycle community going after those hooligan outlaw biker motorcyclists? I 'm all for riders but when you start using knives and guns in an unfriendly way such as the Casino in Laughlin, you can forget about me. Do you think the average "box" driver could tell us apart? Is there any way to contact Clint Eastwood and ask where Clyde is? And, If we find him, we should ask Clyde to pay a visit to the Hells Angels and Mongoose's parking lot for a spell with a new hand toy.

Hollister around the Fourth of July? Sturgis in August? Won't see me any where around there and odds are a lot of other people also! National News for days-just the publicity we don't want to see. Did you hear any word about the good things some of us do? Nope. As we ride our bikes we sometimes think we should ride as if we are invisible... perhaps we should keep in mind how visible we really are in the public eye and do the right thing (s). Hopefully, the general public can distinguish riders from other riders and , perhaps this gang/bike thing will not affect our sport in general.

Want to give a little thanks for all the great photos for this issue to Gary Turner for the previous and current Editor photos, James Chen, Harvey Raun, and Jim Rowley.

PRESIDENTS MESSAGE

Thanks for those who help support the Twaddle fest Rally.

There was a handful of our Club that did attend. I rode over with Mike, James and Chase Harper and two more friends of his. We all did a good stretch of the ride off road. Following a river and crossing it many times. My coil got wet and didn't like the low rpms but it ran good at high rpms and we got to Song dog Ranch . I noticed my Chase Harper bag was stuck to my muffler along with my sleeping bag WAH!. This was a very expensive goose down bag and I patched it up as good as possible. The next day I woke up and it looked like a fox got in the hen house. Had breakfast and blasted back to town for my Dad had his Dodge in the the Santa Barbara car show (the same day) and wanted to be there for him. He did walk away with a trophy.

I checked the price for a new coil and it was $300 dollars or so. I decided to try a coil I already had off a Harley Davidson, it works great it didn't cost me any thing. (I don't know how the Club is gonna feel about that).
the Otis Chandler ride is the 18th and I will be gong on the ride, hope to see some members and their friends.

I didn't make it to Lake Isabella last weekend, something came up but I did make it to Cold Springs Tavern today with Mike McQ and I heard a new one, another acronym for BMW: "Break My Wallet".

There is also an antique airshow at SB Airpor t the weekend of May 16-17th.

Happy to be alive.

Hank

CHRISTINE LUCADELLO'S
DEATH VALLEY STORY
 

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death" . . . these were some of the words that always sprang to my mind when I would even fleetingly think of visiting Death Valley. Yet for some reason, a ride to that forbidden-sounding place had interested me for many years. James and Anne Chen had repeatedly asked me to join them on the ride but it had never happened. In February, they asked once more and I said yes.

The questionable weather forecast didn't shake our determination so with motel rooms reserved, we set out on a route which included some secondary roads with "character". One of the "characters" driving the Pearblossom Highway executed a maneuver that might well have wiped us out. Maybe it was sheer luck that helped her jump back on the road after an extremely sudden swerve took her off the right shoulder, into a deep drainage ditch where her top-down Caddy pirouetted and leapt up the side of the ditch and right back into the solid line of traffic behind me. Sheesh, and I was nervous about "Death Valley"! A while later, a quiet stretch of old Route 66 was a remedy for shaken nerves and, except for strong winds, riding conditions from then on let the adrenalin stay wherever it is that adrenalin normally stays.

After Baker and on to Furnace Creek, with sun sinking, we managed to get some glimpses of colored hills and salty, sub-sea-level vistas. From Furnace Creek, we chased the darkness on the 40+ miles to our motel in Beatty, Nevada. The road had curvy sections interspersed with long, very straight stretches; trying to keep up with Anne in the lead, I rode through the blackness with my 85 mph speedo pegged. Couldn't believe my usually conservative nature let me do that.

Our clean, comfortable $36.50 (!) motel rooms were large and accommodating for snacks and aperitifs before dinner; by now, Mike McQ and Glenn, an Arroyo Grande riding buddy, had arrived. In the morning, the plan was for James to join the "guys" for a Titus Canyon run and then meet Anne and me at Scotty's Castle at noon. It was impossible for James to hide his desire for dirt and that left Anne and me free to indulge our inclinations.

We set out to investigate the remains of Rhyolite, a former mining town which had become a place of substance and affluence before its inevitable decline. In a dirt lot, my super-cautious attempts to turn my bike around before parking it were observed by a man sitting in a pickup. Anne had deftly maneuvered and parked her bike before coming to my aid and then, with a slightly superior air, the PU guy remarked that he guessed I hadn't been riding for long. Feeling defensive, I replied that I'd rather paddle my feet and look amateurish than dump the bike. Think he said he rode a Harley. Figures. (He wasn't a nice guy like you, Tom.)

On to Scotty's Castle. Keeping a sharp eye for the arrival of the guys, we explored almost everything but the house itself. I was especially intrigued by the power plant which, in addition to a conventional generator, utilized hydroelectrics to help charge the monster batteries supplying power to the complex. I couldn't help but think about how photovoltaics would have come in handy out there. We finally picnicked on the lawn with still no sight of the Titus Canyon Boys - time for a cell phone check-in. No signal reached out from the depth of the little valley we were in and after Anne had the same result from the top of the tower, we decided to hike up to a vantage point to seek signal. A little worry was beginning to set in. Just then, we heard and saw the big GS and a while later, Mike and Glenn on their Japanese mounts appeared, all smiles from having conquered the canyon.

A bit of rest time readied us for the ride to Furnace Creek Campground where we hoped to find Hank the Pres at the Airheads Rally. First though, a side trip up to Ubehebe Crater amazed us with intense winds we feared would blow over the parked bikes. Some Boy Scouts at the crater's edge had found the spot with the greatest wind velocity sweeping up from the pit and were leaning their bodies against its strength. Seeing one of them become airborne would not have been a surprise. We tried to capture the gale with megapixels but soon had to descend to a calmer place. The day was exhausting itself and our search at the campground did not yield a glimpse of Hank. However, just as we left to race the remaining sun to Artist Drive, we waved to Hank just arriving on his signboard-faired GS (you would have to have seen it to understand). The twisting, narrow road leading to Artists' Palette slowed our pace enough that we were able to catch only the last rays of sun from the viewpoint. By then, I had seen enough to covince me that a return to the beauty of this "deathly" valley was absolutely in my future. The twilight ride back to Beatty still revealed patches of color and promises of treasures I would seek out another time.

The Sunday ride back to Santa Barbara was remarkable mainly for the winds and intermittent showers as we sought the fastest way home. We had enjoyed good weather for the previous two days so we really didn't complain when we had to stop to don rain gear. I stayed dry despite the fact that the waterproofing on my suit had reached the end of its life span. The suit came off at my back door and went directly into the trash but the memories of the weekend went directly into my treasure box. Thanks go to the Chens who didn't quit asking me to go and who turned out to be excellent travel partners. So, from now on, when I think of Death Valley, I will fear no evil.

A SUNDAY AFTERNOON RIDE
BY JIM ROWLEY
 

After giving the Wilson Brothers the guilt trip, they asked me to go on a ride with them. It worked. Phil, Doug and I took a short dual-sport ride, starting from Solvang to Little Pine. I wanted to avoid as much pavement as I could as I was breaking in the XR200R that I had acquired a few months ago.

The route was to take us up Refugio and across West Camino Cielo. Then we would traverse on Stagecoach Road past the non-River Run attendees at Cold Spring Tavern and work our way into the National Forest. We made it across the river crossing and proceeded towards Upper Oso. It had been so long since I have been back there, it was like riding new terrain. Well, technically, it was new dirt. The little XR was surprisingly nibble. I guess it wasn't a bad deal when I picked the thing up for $75 at a garage sale. Okay, okay, so I bought another motor, put a dual-sport kit on and powder coated the frame along with all new cables. It's still a deal.

We rode the trail, slowly past some hikers returning from a walk and ended at a pinic area, something Hollow. We all commented about how nice it would be to camp there until the conversation turned to bears. On the trip back, we coasted down for several miles in neutral with the engines off. Phil and Doug, on their KLR and R100GS respectively, had no problem building up speed for the occasional rise on the path. As for myself, I barely crept over the crest and was playing catch up. I fianlly gave up about a quarter mile from pavement, I kickstarted the little engine that could alive.

The motor was in for a workout. We took Hwy 154 back from Paradise Road. I had the lead since I would be the slowest. That poor engine was ringing away at the top of its lungs, if it had some. We all made it back safely.
A nice relaxing way to spend a Sunday afternoon. Thanks guys for inviting me.

Jim.

MAY
18 "Museum Ride" Otis Chandler's Vintage Museum in Oxnard. Meet at Sport Cycle Pacific, 627 N. Salsipuedes, Santa Barbara, 9:00 A.M. 966-6508. The museum is located at: 1421 Emerson Ave. in Oxnard. From SB, take Rose Ave. exit, travel South for about 3 miles and make R at Emerson. Open from 9 to 3, $ 7. admission.
24-27 29th '49er Rally Gold County Fairgrounds, Auburn, CA -perhaps the shakedown ride for our repaired Motorcycles? Mine's ready, Phyllis?, .......Phyllis?

JUNE
21-23 R90S West Coast Rendezvous Grover Hot Springs State Park, Central Sierras-Phil?

JULY
11-14 Land O' Loon 30th BMW MOA International Rally. Pre-reg $25. First International Rally in North America, anyone want to go by train? Wouldn't that be a trip!

BLAKE'S TIPS

 

This months Tip:

There is a reason homeless people sleep under newspaper; it's great insulation. If you ever get caught away from home in a cold snap, try tucking a SECTION of newspaper, not the whole Sunday Times, inside your jacket. You'll notice the difference immediately, and it's cheaper, and more convenient, than buying a sweater.
Hope you find this tip useful someday!

Blake

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