Musings from one who writes, and rides…
Originally published in the October 2018 issue of Rider Magazine. I’m accustomed to giving the classic “V” sign to other motorcyclists on the road, and getting similar props in return. In California at least, it’s a thing. But as we ride around Tasmania, I’m crushed to discover I’m getting no such love. Initially I attributed…
Originally published in Rider Magazine. Recently I visited one of my favorite cafes, a short ride up the Pacific Coast from my Santa Cruz, California, home. Called Downtown Local, the place is a syrupy mix of old motorcycles, vintage gas tanks stacked on shelves like cordwood, and decades worth of vinyl, which sound a little…
Originally published in Rider Magazine. Lately I have been spending a lot of time on my 1974 Honda CB 750. I enjoy the sit-up-and-grin riding position, the languid feel of the bike, and the visceral growl of those four pipes—the world’s first true superbike. But there’s another reason the old CB is so enjoyable: It never…