Asphalt is a very unforgiving surface. This is especially true when the human body and the road make contact at speed! Just ask any motorcyclist who has had the sensation of sliding along on his side, his back, or on his posterior in that “life goes into slow motion” eternity as one waits for friction to take its course and bring the sliding body to rest.

Over the years motorcyclists have employed strategies to reduce the effects of high speed “asphalt abrasion”. The first and still most-used strategy is 1.5 mm of cowhide. Nowadays new synthetic products abound; cordura, nylon mesh, Kevlar and even body armor employed at elbows, shoulders and to protect the spine. How many of us two wheeled aficionados’ actually protect ourselves well every time we ride?

In spite of all the protective clothing available and the well understood value of these items, we still see motorcyclists in cut off t-shirts, shorts and sometimes even flip flops tooling around on their bikes. In states without helmet laws riders log thousands of miles with their hair in the wind riding “free”. Sometimes when in Ohio, my home state and home to the AMA, I pass these guys on the road and I get flashbacks of spilled brains and permanently disabled bodies.

As I get sanctimonious about riders that tempt fate and ride without any protective gear, my own stupid stunts put me into the population of dumb-ass bikers from time to time.

Up until a few weeks ago with over 40 years of motorized two-wheeling under my helmet, I had only tested the asphalt twice, once on a Honda S65 in my first two weeks of ownership and again on my Triumph 500 in downtown Ann Arbor, Mi. Both of these were relatively minor slides causing no injury to me other than to my ego and only minor damage to the bikes and my clothing.

Have you ever noticed that as long as the motorcycle doesn’t meet anything solid during a slide it not only slides faster than you do, but it can come out of the slide with less damage? If the motorcycle or your body meet a fixed object after the dismount things get much more serious

My 1973 H-D XLH had been in the shop for one of its annual, highly expensive, transfusions of cash, in both labor and parts. That stupid AMF era Harley loves to remind me of its hold on me! By the time you drop the “The Beast” off at a shop and they diagnose the problem, order the parts and put it back together it always takes a month! I need my regular fix of wind in the face over extended forks to keep my head on straight. I’m like a heroin addict going into withdrawal when the bike is in the shop. I will pay anything to get it out of hock. I’m lucky I have enough of my own money to bury this expense or my wife would have hired a lawyer a long time ago!

I often wonder, do I own “The Beast” or does it own me?

I picked “The Beast” up on a Saturday afternoon, road it home, garaged it and went to do something else. It was running better than it ever has. These guys did a great job of fixing it!

On Sunday night I finished some chores and as the sun was about to go down I thought I would take the “The Beast” out for spin and start enjoying my most recent cash drain.

As usual, I donned my helmet, mesh jacket with included body armor, elk-skin gloves and above the ankle boots reinforced with steel toes. I wore a pair of Levis. It turns out this was the weakest part of my protective garb.

As I got out on the road the bike was purring as smoothly as a 1973 era V-twin can purr. With a little Ka-chunka,Ka-chunka from the primary and enough potato-potato from the exhaust I began working on my “running down the road” grin.

I was a little concerned because it was dusk, the most dangerous time for riding, but I had picked a road that usually has little traffic on it for my ride. For some reason traffic was not light that night and a constant stream of dual headlights came at me from oncoming traffic as I put my feet up on my highway pegs and began to relax for a nice cruise. I was doing 45 miles per hour, my relaxing two-lane cruising speed.

All of a sudden up ahead of me were an extra set of headlights coming straight at me, one set in my lane! This was just under a quarter mile ahead of me. Knowing intuitively that two vehicles travelling at 45mph or better can close very quickly when you take into account both their speeds I knew I had to do something quickly.

I could have pulled to the right shoulder but being startled by my situation and not wanting to hit the ditch, I applied both brakes, but in doing so I over-reacted and the back end came around, the bike slid out from under me and I found myself sliding down the asphalt a couple bike lengths behind the “The Beast”. Life had gone into slow motion and the outcome was no longer in my hands. Only Lady Luck or the devil himself would decide from here on out!

Upon reflection, quite a few of the devil’s scenarios now occur to me; the bike could have slid across the road into the oncoming lane, I could have slid into the oncoming lane, a vehicle behind could have run me over, the idiot in my lane coming at me could have run over my bike. None of these occurred, thankfully.

I slid to a stop, on my side, hopped up and moved to my bike which was still in the same lane on its side. The fact that I was able to get up and walk to my bike I attribute to Lady Luck. Whoever was behind me was far enough back that he could stop in plenty of time which saved me from becoming “road kill”. In fact, this driver was the first to reach me and ask me if I was OK. I was trying to pick my 400 lb Harley myself and I asked him to help me right it. We got the bike up and walked it over to the right shoulder when “Mr. Wrong side of the Road” arrived to also ask me if I was all right. I briefly took stock; all my joints were working, nothing hurt. I looked down at my knees and noticed both legs of my Levi’s were torn. No big deal, Levis are cheaper than hospital bills. My left arm felt like it had taken a knock, but it didn’t cause me any pain.

My indignant sense of reasoning rose to the surface and I asked “Mr. Wrong side of the Road” what the Hell he was doing in my lane coming the opposite way. I received a guilty look but he made had no response. Innocent until proven guilty was the route he was going to take!

By now a small crowd had gathered. The driver from behind me asked

if I needed him to call the police or an ambulance. I said “No” deciding that even though the guy who pulled into the wrong lane had no right to do what he did, my mishandling of a panic stop was as much my problem as his. There didn’t seem to be enough damage to bike or life and limb to make a big deal out of this. I was pissed that this guy had tried to pass or whatever he was trying in front of me!

I looked at “Mr Wrong side of the Road” again and told him I still didn’t understand what the Hell he was doing in the wrong lane. He silently pleaded “the Fifth” again. If I wasn’t going to call the cops, he could be off the hook!

I inspected my bike. The handlebars were tweaked and my clutch lever was partially broken. The bike was very possibly rideable. I pulled in the clutch and pushed the starter button and after a little grinding the engine re-started.

I thanked the guy from behind me for his concern, glared at “Mr. Wrong side of the Road” who now became “Mr. Lucky”, threw my leg over my bike and started a shaky ride home. Since I was only about three miles from home this would not be a long ride if the clutch lever lasted.

The clutch lever lasted less than a mile and snapped. Now it was held together only by the cable end. I had no first gear start. I was chugging along in second or third and praying that the light at the four lane highway ahead would be green and I could make it home without having to stop and restart. I almost made it.

The light turned yellow about 40 yards before the intersection. It was too risky to try and run the light and cross the busy four lane so I would have to stop. Without the ability to pull in the clutch I had to stall the engine. While waiting for the light I reached down and moved the shift lever to neutral and restarted the engine. When the light turned green, I crab-walked the bike until it gained enough momentum to put the bike into second hoping it would not stall out. Lady Luck and low end torque was with me! I managed to get the transmission into second, give it some throttle and I didn’t stall out as I chugged across the intersection, the last stop before my driveway.

I stalled the bike out in my driveway and walked it into the garage. I made another inspection of body and bike. A tweaked set of handlebars, broken clutch lever and two holes in the Levi’s, one in each knee, seemed to sum up the damage.

I inspected my helmet and jacket and found no visible scratches or tears. The back of my right glove had a few abrasion spots on it.

I went in the house to the bathroom, loosened my belt and dropped my trousers. Both my knees were bloody. I washed them off and applied some antiseptic cream. Both me knees and legs worked without any pain. “Road-rash-scab-time” lurked in my very near future. I wasn’t going to be scrubbing any floors on my knees for some time.

My helmet, gloves and jacket had protected me well. The Levis flunked the test. My knees took up the slack.

Did I learn anything?

Levi’s aren’t going to protect anyone when they slide on asphalt. A rider has to wear something with better abrasion resistance than denim. My knees are proof of this. I was fortunate not to have done more than scraping them.

Good gloves and a protective jacket can save a lot of skin! They did for me.

The Beast is pre-1974 when NHTSA standardized brakes and shift levers on one side of a motorcycle. My regular ride is a much newer bike. I need to practice panic stops on the Beast to prevent myself from incorrect braking and laying the bike down in a panic stop. Having the brake and shift lever on the opposite side is a hazard unless you can use them in an emergency correctly.

If you’re just out for a ride for pleasure, go during daylight hours with light traffic on a road that you know well. Riding after dark and especially on busy, unfamiliar roads adds to the risk of something bad happening.

On a two-lane road a car can pull out to pass without enough clearance in the oncoming lane anytime day or night. Staying alert and prepared for defensive action is your only protection.

The “Big Asphalt Slide” may take a lot of Lady Luck to cheat the devil. It doesn’t hurt to have a little insurance. Remember, leather is your friend!

Most summer weekends I spend refereeing soccer, either tournaments or league games. With an invitation from my wife’s brother I emailed the Labor Day tournament referee scheduler and told him I wouldn’t be available and traded my usual for a wonderful, relaxing weekend in the Northern part of the lower peninsula of Michigan (about 25 miles south of the Mackinac Bridge).

We walked on the beach, cooked out on the deck and toured Harbor Springs and Petosky,topping off the weekend with dinner in Bay Harbor.

While watching sunset one night I got a beautiful shot with my digital camera.

I’m on my bike heading down I-75 in my black “Draggin” Jeans, Black jacket and motorcycle boots. What am I doing? I’m heading to the Meadowbrook Concours d’ Elegance where I am going to fit in like a Biker at a Grosse Pointe wedding reception! One look at me and the ascot, speedo cap and sport coat set will know what rag I am representing. This is what they get when they start inviting motorcycles to their high class event. Easy Writer, hell- bound for Meadowbrook, tail-gaiting an Audi TT with vanity plates all the way through the front gate! Mothers hold onto your kids! A one man thundering hoard is arriving by Honda in the parking lot!

Last year the Concours, in order to broaden its appeal, added a display of four cylinder motorcycles. I tried to get a press pass to do an article on the display and after several phone calls and a few trips to their website never got through. My electronic request for media credentials must have gotten run over by a virtual Duesenberg or Bugatti and lost in classic car cyberspace. What car collector ever heard of Midwest Motorcyclist anyway?

This year their press release said they were going to have a display of sidecars (with motorcycles attached). Just for laughs I entered my information on their website for media credentials. The economy is in the dumper anyway so maybe this year they could use some extra media attention from the largest free motorcycle magazine in the Midwest! Checking my in-box the next day I almost fell off my task chair! I actually got a response saying I could pick up my media credentials at the gate on Sunday. Even though I couldn’t find my ascot and my only sport coat was still in mothballs I decided to go anyway.

The shuttle bus from valet parking drops me off at a little glen filled with white tents. Next to it were fifty Corvettes parked in neat rows. I hate Corvette clubs! I remind myself the constitution gives us all the right to lawful assembly. As far as I am concerned assembly of Corvette owners is definitely on the fringe! I selectively ignore all fifty Corvettes looking for classic antique cars somewhere in this tent city. It turns out this is just a pre-Concours vendor encampment. Great American Chopper has a tent with a few bikes on display. I have a nice talk with the mechanic on duty about Baker right hand drive systems for oversize rear tires. Some of my people are here!

Down a long tunnel of trees I see the front door of the mansion framed in greenery. I may be getting close finally. Arriving at the mansion I find the media table. The twelve year old boy manning the table actually finds my name on the list. It turns out security is severely lacking. I could have walked through the gate in the Tudor brick wall and no one would have even noticed. With $5 hamburgers and $3 bottles of water the prices inside are steep. At least the parking and air conditioned shuttle bus ride were both free. Things are looking up!

I mosey into the back yard of the mansion and the world of classic antique automobiles spreads out before me on the golf course below; Rolls Royce’s, Ferraris, Packard’s, Jaguars, LaSalle’s, and many Italian marques I cannot even pronounce. It’s cars and tents for as far as I can see. Where are the sidecars?

I wander around amongst the well polished, immaculately restored automobiles looking for some spoked wheels and v-twin engines somewhere….

Finally after fifteen minutes of looking up and own the immaculately arranged rows of four wheeled vehicles I spot what I think is a sidecar over in the back row just in front of the portable restrooms.

The motorcycle sidecar exhibit consists of 16 well- restored, well- polished examples of next-to you passenger equipped 3 wheeled transportation. A Moto Guzzi, two BMW R69’s several Indians (one a four cylinder), four Harleys and what is this? There is actually a Brough Superior with a sidecar attached. Next to it is a Vincent 52 Rapide. Near the Vincent is a 1950 Norton with a racing sidecar rig attached. I am getting into this!

The oldest and most interesting sidecar rig on display is a 1913 Triumph. This model is a pedal start, belt driven, 3 speed with acetylene lighting. It has total a loss oiling system which means the rider must hand pump oil to the engine from a reservoir periodically while riding. The sidecar is actually made of wicker! This is a very unique historical motorcycle.

The owner dressed in period costume is only too happy to talk about his rig. His story about the bike is almost worth the price of admission. But then I almost forgot. I got in for free!

Sitting under a tree not far away are two people dressed in old Harley caps, embroidered black shirts and tall boots. They look like models out of a pre-war motorcycle advertisement. I prevail upon Stewart and “Bubbles” to pose next to their bikes for pictures. Bubbles has a Harley Davidson Panhead and Stewart has an Indian sidecar. Stewart wears a great old leather kidney belt. Bubbles is sporting AMA logo ear rings. I am in love! Too bad her husband is sitting nearby in a lawn chair and he is much bigger than I am! They are from Findlay, Ohio where they enjoy riding their motorcycles with their friends who also own vintage motorcycles. They tell me about the big classic motorcycle show and vintage races in nearby Wauseon, Ohio. I am marking my calendar for this next summer.

After looking at the WWII BMW sidecar pulling an artillery field piece equipped with a machine gun on the sidecar, I head back to a nice air-conditioned shuttle ride to my bike.

The sidecar display was a classy addition to the annual classic car event. It’s too bad there is not a motorcycle only Concours d’Elegance somewhere in the Midwest. Monterey Ca. has one every year now. The Midwest is the home of the American motorcycles and is a hotbed of classic motorcycle activity. If you don’t believe me, just ask Bubbles and Stewart.

Southern California produces some unique lifestyles. With miles and miles of beaches, numerous days of sunshine each year, mountains, deserts, lakes and streams, Californians more than any other Americans are tempted to forego traditional “mainstream” careers and follow their passion. Dropping out to go surfing, skiing, and rock climbing or motorcycling can be an irresistible allure in California. Some do it and make a living at it as well.

Jeff “Meatball” Tulinius is one of these people. Jeff loves old British Motorcycles, rock and roll and hanging out with his buddies, who, like him, are of a similar mind. He operates his own “Hell on Wheels” bike shop out of his garage in Anaheim.

Meatball and his buddies comprise the “largest” motorcycle club in the world, “The No Gooders” with only three members Meatball, Lucky and Goose.

Brittown takes you inside Meatball’s world and totally immerses you in building, riding and fixing Triumphs as well as his lifestyle, totally devoted to reliving some of the best parts of the 60’s. If you like British motorcycles, Punk and and Rockabilly music this movie is made for you!

You can’t help but like Meatball. He’s just a regular guy, understated, well spoken and entirely likable. He seems to have an endless wardrobe of Triumph T shirts and vintage motorcycling gear which adds immensely to the mood of the movie. His old 60’s era racing jerseys take us all back to another time! Current motorcyclists riding new bikes and wearing modern riding outfits do double takes when Meatball and his buddies roll up to the starting line at the races. It’s like watching the “Wild One” again.

In some ways the movie follows the same theme as “On Any Sunday”, the classic motorcycle movie by Bruce Brown. We get to join Meatball and the “No Gooders” as they go racing. With on- board cameras the movie- goer takes part in riding the Southern California freeways, Moto-cross, Flat track, road racing and the Elsinore Grand Prix, a race which still runs each year through town out into the hills of Southern California. Participating in all these types of racing and riding old British bikes is a lot of fun for Meatball, his buddies and especially for you the viewer.

During all of these segments there are updates on Meatball’s project, building a special high performance Triumph 650. The movie is even a “how-to” on building a 650cc Triumph motorcycle engine. Meatball is truly a special character who is living his dream and is very devoted to his love of these old bikes.

The sound track supports the mood of the movie using Punk and rockabilly songs during the riding sequences. There is also a musical group doing sea chanties that oddly enough, adds to the mood of the story. Meatball’s own British style punk band “Smiling Face Down” provides some of the soundtrack.

One of the absolute highlights of the movie outside of all the vintage riding is the “Hell on Wheels” beauty contest. A dozen young women compete in 50’s and 60’s era dress and makeup styles to be crowned Miss “Hell on Wheels”. Our heroes, Meatball and his buddies get the pleasure of being the judges for this unique and truly enjoyable task. The beauty contest held at a local bar also provides an excuse for Meatball’s band to play as well as a really great rockabilly group.

Meatball finishes his build and all his friends show up at his home based motorcycle shop to help him do the final assembly on his Triumph 650. The Triumph, once assembled and running, takes to the road for an inaugural speed test. How sweet the sound of a high performance British twin on an abandoned California desert road!

The movie is available on DVD from www.brittown.com . The film makers Scott Di Lalla and Zack Coffman were at Vintage Motorcycle Days in Lexington, Ohio in July previewing Brittown to vintage motorcyclists. I got to talk to them as they were selling copies of the DVD’s at the vendor show. This is not their first motorcycle documentary. They also made “ChopperTown” and “ChoppaHead”.

Brittown is a rare documentary. If you love motorcycles this movie will get you right between your headlight and your engine block!

If you were really devoted to doing vintage Motorcycle Days the “right “way you would;

1. Own a 60’s or 70’s era Triumph, Harley, Ducati or Japanese bike
2. Tune it and pack it up with all your camping gear.
3. Ride to Lexington, Ohio and arrive on Thursday night
4. Camp out the whole weekend and see and do everything.

Some motorcyclists do this. Not me, I’m a sorry excuse for a vintage rider!

My vintage bike, a 1973 Sportster is on the trailer right now and I haven’t gotten it running again, so I travelled to VMD by car. “The Beast”, as I refer to my Sportster, would probably get me about half way down there or halfway back and break down, needing a trailer ride back home. I rode it to the “HOG Rendezvous” in West Branch. I had to pull out of the parade and let it cool off because it was beginning to seize. On the way home I had to leave it at fruit stand in Millington. My wife had to come and pick me up. She was not happy about it. She has promised not to bail me out of any vintage rides in the future. She has decreed that I have to figure my way out any breakdown on my own. This doesn’t deter me entirely but causes me to be a little more careful.

I always think I’m too busy to spend a whole weekend at VMD so I try and do it all in one day, in spite of the fact that MWM gets me a press pass that is good for the entire weekend. Some guys just don’t know how to slow down and smell the roses, or burned Castrol in this case!

Nevertheless, to do VMD right you have get in the mood first!

Going through my collection of Blues and Rolling Stones CD’s, I pick out a half dozen I haven’t listened to in awhile and load them into the car.I’m too lazy to reload my MP3 player. Besides I would look silly riding down to Ohio with a headset on! I pack some of my favorite motorcycle T shirts, some shorts and a change of underwear. You have to dress right for VMD!Besides if I get killed in an accident I need clean underwear! I always bring rain gear too. July in Ohio brings some good thunderstorms. I take my straw hat for shade and my hiking boots. The Mid Ohio complex is huge. It requires much walking. With lots of liquid and some road food I am on my way!

Its 3 ½ hour drive to Lexington, Ohio, with two McDonald’s stops. After some Seigel-Schwall blues, some Rolling Stones and a little Led Zeppelin I’m in the mood.

Finding your way to VMD, or any big motorcycle rally, is a lot like finding an ant hill in the woods. You find one industrious little ant and follow him. The closer you get to the ant hill the more of his buddies you see, when you finally find the ant hill there are hundreds of ants all scurrying around entering and leaving the hill.

On the way down I-75, there is a lone rider on a BMW. He has it all packed up with camping gear. Guess where he is going? Each time I make turn, he does too. We must be headed the same place!

In Ohio, where the roads are actually maintained well, it is not uncommon to see Harleys and Goldwings on the road pulling camping trailers. What do they keep in those things? A rider passes me on US-30 going the other way with a trailer obviously made out of a 55 Gallon drum cut in half and painted bright red. Is this a home- made camping trailer or is it some kind of a mobile barbecue rig? Pulling up behind another rig on US -23, it appears that a trailer is off center behind the bike ahead. Maybe I need to warn this guy he is losing his trailer. When I get up closer I am surprised to see a Harley sidecar rig pulling a camping trailer. This truly unusual setup must require the trailer hitch to be placed between the motorcycle and the sidecar. Momma is in the sidecar. She and her hubby are wearing radio headsets too. Someone has to watch Dad and backseat drive for him! What a strange site!

With no helmet law, Ohio is home to the bandana clad, hair-in-the-wind biker. I have trouble conceptually with this, being a firm believer in helmets, but what the heck; it’s a (partially) free country. I can’t keep visions of spilled brains from flashing in my mind each time I pass one of these helmetless riders.

Right on schedule I, am leaving US 30 as “Stairway to Heaven” blasts out of my stereo. I roll down the windows to share. Riders are showing up with more frequency and pickups and trailers full of bikes appear all heading for Mid Ohio.

After checking in at the gate with some courteous folks I try to find a parking spot centrally located between the swap meet and the pits for the AHRMA road racers.

The roped off the area I used last year is reserved for AMA officials. There are only a few cars and trucks in this area so I pull in as it is unattended and park my car under a tree for shade and a place to eat lunch later. No one seems to mind.

An hour and half later, walking the swap meet, I conclude that the attendance and selection this year are not a good as in the past. It’s the Economy man! Money is tight and Midwesterners are hanging on to their extra money or spending it on $4 a gallon gasoline.

The swap meet is still full of used bikes in all conditions, from running and immediately usable to complete basket cases. Vintage bike restorers looking for specific parts abound. I spot a 1971 Kawasaki 250 Bighorn exactly like one I owned. Another vendor is selling a Chinese clone of a Whizzer mo-ped for $695. You pedal it like a bicycle to get it started just like a Whizzer. It gets 100 miles per gallon and in many places you don’t have to license it. Powered by a 49cc engine this baby will get you down the road on the cheap!

Old Triumphs, Harleys, dirt bikes and Honda mini-bikes abound this year. Old dirt bikes never seem to die, they just change hands.

Trailer loads of motorcycles are arriving constantly and eager shoppers are looking them over before the swap meet vendors can even unload them.

The swap meet is also a relatively inexpensive way to introduce a new motorcycle product, service or even a book to lot of motorcyclists in a short period of time.

You never know what you might find walking up and down the aisles of the swap meet.

As usual, you have to be careful walking the swap meet. Many motorcyclists bring a dirt bike or a pit bike and cruise the swap meet on two wheels or in a golf cart to cover more ground. I almost get run over a few times looking at something and not watching traffic. One time I almost back into an Ariel Square Four, This would not be a bad way to go, come to think of it! Here lies Easy Writer run over by an Ariel at VMD!

I finished the swap meet earlier than in past years so it was on to the Demo ride area. Since you have to show up at 8am to sign up for the demo rides, once I get there all the appointments are filled. I can only watch people saddling up for their demo rides on their dream bikes and take pictures of them when they come with big grins on their faces.

Kawasaki, Kymco, Harley Davidson, Moto-Guzzi, KTM and CanAm were represented. It was the first year I had seen KTM and Moto-Guzzi.

Test riding the new CanAm three-wheeled Spyder was an interesting process. CanAm had the “ridees” watch a video first, instructing them on the machine. Before heading out, one of the CanAm people reminded everyone about how the vehicles ride and handle, went over all the controls and before everyone actually went out in traffic they went through a short course marked with cones to have them stop and take a sharp corner. Motorcyclists are used to leaning and counter steering as they go around a corner. Neither of these two skills is needed on a three- wheeler. Riding a Spyder seems to be more akin to riding a 4 wheel ATV than a motorcycle. Everyone was coming back from their demo ride smiling and was then asked to sit down and take a computer survey for which they received a free T shirt. I didn’t see the T shirts but maybe they said “I Survived a demo ride on a CanAm Spyder”, maybe not. At $20,000 apiece their market has to be high end. The Spyder has a 998 Rotax engine in it and moves out pretty quickly so it is certainly a high performance machine. Americans with the coin will love them.

I didn’t watch the stunt show this year. Can you believe some young kid is willing to risk life and limb jumping a motorcycle 35 feet in the air and I am not interested? Too much television for me! Been there seen that!

From the demo ride area it was off to the MotorHead Café to see the celebrities and go to the Triumph exhibit.

At the Motorhead Café Craig Vetter, Gene Romero and Bill Baird were busily signing posters for fans. Vetter was renowned for founding Windjammer Fairings, designing the BSA Hurricane and a land speed record. Gene Romero was a Grand National Champion Dirt Track racer and Bill Baird, a National Enduro Champion

and AMA supporter. Craig Vetter had a mock up of a project he is doing to get 100MPG out of a motorcycle using aero dynamics as the major aid. An innovator like Craig Vetter is never idle and he was happily sharing his ideas with motorcyclists gathered around the unfinished project on display.

The Triumph display was next and I happily stepped into the air conditioned tent to ogle the collection of old Triumphs as well as a display of new Triumphs just beyond. Because most of the old Triumphs were donated for display by private parties there weren’t as many there as I had hoped. The bikes on display were all excellent restorations, accurately done and in pristine condition. Quite a few models of the Triumph marque were missing, to my disappointment. When Ducati and Harley Davidson displayed in previous years the collections were very complete. What happened to all the old Triumphs? As I now remember they had a fire a few years ago at the factory and lost some old machines.

A walk through the vendor show produced one of the highlights of VMD for me. At a table were the two documentary film makers who produced and directed “Brittown” a just released documentary about a guy named “Meatball” building a Triumph 650 and hanging out with the world’s smallest motorcycle club the “No Gooders”. They were selling copies of the DVD. I bought a copy and will review it for MWM. Stay tuned for a movie review! I talked to them for a few minutes and learned they are looking for ideas for their next project. I bored them with an idea, which they grinned their way through. Seeing these guys at the show would be like running into Bruce Brown just after he finished “On Any Sunday”. Will “Brittown” be the next motorcycle movie classic? Only time will tell. According to the program they were going to preview “Brittown” Saturday night at VMD to an all motorcyclist audience, probably an easy sell.

I took a look at the Laverda exhibit tent. What the heck is a Laverda? I learned it’s a three cylinder 4 stroke Italian- made motorcycle that has been produced for enough years to have vintage status. The current owner of the company Piero Laverda was at VMD showing the history of his brand and was also entered in the AHRMA road races on one of his own bikes. Talk about doing it all! Laverdas are still made and sold currently.

During a walk through the pits of the AHRMA road racing venue I found Gary Nixon at what looked like Jay Springsteen’s pit. Jay was listed in the AHRMA program as riding a Harley XR750 in one of the Vintage classes. The “Springer” a Michigan phenomenon, is still racing for trophies when he is not campaigning on the National Dirt Track circuit.

It never ceases to amaze me at all the different makes and models of old motorcycles that the vintage racers compete upon; old Ducati’s, many models of Honda and Yamaha, Triumphs, BSA, Velocettes, Harley Davidson, Indian, Laverda, you name it, they race it.

Who ever thought the old Honda CB160 would become a popular racing class in AHRMA forty some years after it was a popular street bike? The AHRMA has added racing classes for new bikes now and you can enter a Triumph Thruxton or a KTM SuperMoto bike at the AHRMA races to compete. They have something for everyone.

I never got over to the Vintage Moto Cross course or the Vintage Trials competition. That’s why I should go earlier and stay longer. There was also a vintage Cross Country Competition this year.

I struggled up the hill, tired, sunburned and footsore, climbed into my car turned on the air conditioner, shoved in the Led Zeppelin CD and up came “Good times, bad times, you know I’ve had them all….”

VMD is always one of the good times, every year!

Next time I need to ride my bike, camp out and stay three days and do it all…….

Easy Writer