If you are serious about motorcycles, you’ll want to visit the Barber Vintage Motorsports Museum in Birmingham, AL. They have over 1,100 bikes in a building reminiscent of the Guggenheim in New York City, surrounded by a world class track. It is truly an unbelievable experience. The Dukes took a trip down there earlier this year to soak it all in. There were far too many bikes to document in one trip, but I hope these images whet your whistle…

• 0 Comments

The Dukes have an ever-growing arsenal of 2, 3 and 4 wheeled craft, not to mention the humble beginnings of a navy. Each of these are unique in their own right, having been built over the past 80 years:

1928 Ford Model A

1974 Moto Guzzi Eldorado Police

1978 Kawasaki Kz1000A

1981 O’Day DaySailer

1999 Harley Davidson Heritage Softail

2001 Triumph Bonneville

2003 Yamaha FJR1300

2006 Ducati Paul Smart

2007 “Rammer” Toboggan

2008 Honda CRF450x

2008 BRP Can-AM Spyder Roadster

• 0 Comments

Well, the DOFB more than survived it’s trip to Laconia for Bike Week ‘08. In fact, a damn fine time was had by all on a ride that was, as any proper bike adventure should be, filled with hilarity, calamities averted and plenty of cold suds. I’ll let the pictures do most of the talking, but first I’d just like to say a word or 100 about one particularly memorable event.

On the ride up I experienced one of those moments that every rider dreads, the kind of thing that puts a not in your gut just thinking about. I blew a front tire on the Merritt traveling at highway speed in failing light. Blowing a front shoe is one of those things you hear about happening but is by no means a regular occurrence. In fact, most of the folks I know who’ve been riding for a lifetime have never had their number come up. Let me tell you something - it is not a good time.

The tire went flat in about 10-15 seconds. Not with a bang or a pop…just all of the sudden the handling characteristics changed. At first subtly enough to wonder if it was odd pavement. And then, very quickly, the front forks started traveling about a foot in either direction, yanking the steering back, serpentining the bike and generally making it impossible to control. Mind you 75% of the braking on most bikes, and prob 90% on mine, is done with the front brake. So it was a pretty impossible situation to get the bike to rapidly slow while keeping it upright.

With mountains of luck, and a formation of Dukes behind me making sure I wasn’t struck by an oncoming car, I managed to keep the shiny side up and get to the shoulder. Where I no doubt would have remained if it weren’t for the formidable aid and patience of Sergeant Raymond LaPlante of the Orange PD. Ray pulled up on his police Harley to see what was doing and, over the course of the next 12 hours, not only helped us sort out local accommodations, sustenance/beverages and a great mechanic, but actually borrowed a trailer and, (on his morning off with his young son in tow!), pulled the wounded SuperBad from where I’d stashed her in the woods overnight to the shop for an early am fix that got us back on the road.

Ray’s effort not only saved our trip from ruin, it reminded all of us a bit about what’s so special about riding. That it’s appreciably different than traveling the roads in a steel cage. There’s a different connectedness to the experience of moving from place to place. You don’t always know what might happen (especially on an old bike), but that the journey in and of itself is adventure. And, more than anything else, the camaraderie of two wheels and that bikers look after one another.

So a hearty DOFB thanks and toast to Ray LaPlante. We sent many a cold beer to it’s maker this past weekend and damn it all if most of mine weren’t dedicated to his awesomeocity. Keep the rubber side down and looking forward to when we get to ride together!

The SuperBad being seen to by Art Handleman @ Valley Motorsports in Ansonia, CT. If you’re ever in a pinch with your machine in CT - Art’s the man to get you back on the road.
—-

Turns out - I had a “rust-based failure”. On older bikes that have seen weather at one point or another, the insides of the rims can get to rusting. Small metal filings eventually peel off and will, inevitably, roughly have their way with your tube. Here’s the shop tech de-rustifying the inside of my front rim.

To recap = small metal filings + rubber innertube + highway speed = bad. Put it on your list of shit to think about if you have a late model ride.
—-

Sergeant Ray and his awesome little boy Nathan flying the DOFB flag after dropping our side-show off at the shop. Nathan’s already bewitched by bikes and shows great promise. Rumor has it Ray may be heading up to NH this weekend as well. Boundless thanks to both of them for spending their morning sorting us out - couldn’t have done it without you fellahs. Have an awesome ride to the granite state Ray!
—-

Th big man…..Emperor of the Rage Hut, host for this Bike Week jaunt and head of the New Hampshire DOFB Chapter. Not a finer NH specimen to be found.
—-

Ride on Winni to the Wiers for a peek around, some grub and one (read:10) Margarita.
—-

Graham lends a helping hand to a parched Hombre
—-

2300 CC Triumph Rocket Sled….daaaaamn.
—-

Sweet trike art - Rowwwrrrrrr.
—-

The next day the Big Man took us on an epic ride up over the Sandwich Notch road, around through Waterville Valley and back over the Kank. Being dirt, recently graded and pretty steep in many places, The Notch road was especially challenging for some of the bikes. Fritz on the Yammie FJR1300 gets the hero’s salute for muscling that beast all the way through safely. That bike was built for smooth speed and she was more than a little ornery about the conditions. He rodeoed it though and, in exchange, was treated to a singular adventure through pristine NH back country. Nice work man.
—-

Big and mean never goes out of style in NH.
—-

DOFB, now with more Back Road Action!
—-

Juanito going native. The arm stripes perhaps suggest some sort of vestment. A man of the cloth? A country bishop perhaps?

Subsequently gathered evidence would seem to contravene this hypothesis.
—-

Graham loves it.
—-

Like Rodin’s thinker, this Duke too is made of granite. NH Chapter member (and lead carpenter) Whitney on his KLR. The KLR really is a perfect match for this guy and his natural surroundings.
—-

Top of the Kank….one of the best roads for riding on the East Coast and my personal favorite. The Dukes relay team will also be running the Kank this coming fall in the “Reach the Beach” 200+ mile relay. A painful reality not lost on those of us who’ll be on the squad as we climbed upward for 13 miles….
—-

Stop in Chocorua to visit the DOFB patron Saint - Ghee. Here’s she’s getting her annual ride around the block on the back of the Guzzer.
—-

Fritz on the Yammie. Can you believe he just took that 600lb beast over 20+ miles of mushy dirt logging roads?!?
—-

Heading back into the Wiers we start to get a taste of the action.
—-

Bike traffic for miles.
—-

Some local fauna met in traffic. The lady on the front claimed to have been arrested at last year’s bike week for mistakenly slugging a cop. Oops. Things can get a little dicey at Bike Week but come on ladies. These two sisters seemed a wee interested in a certain debonair Duke.
—-

This guy - can you believe it? No accounting for taste I suppose…
—-

Sunset at the rage Hut
—-

That pretty much concludes our trip. There were some other adventures had…a visit to the Franklin Girls’ natural lair, a few ‘old bike’ struggles with the Guzzi, electrical gremlins with the Triumph and many many coordinated high speed drifts to the curb of the highway for one dangling plate/about to be lost luggage/ atomic wedgie or another. But you’ll get that on these rolling thunder jobs.

Next year we’ll hope to have a bit more time and get a little more submersion into the epicenter of Bike Week. But I know I wouldn’t trade the ride we had on Saturday for much of anything - pure magic.

Thanks to everyone who was involved in making it happen this year…Ray and Chris especially!

• 0 Comments

Just ran across this footage of trucks dealing with the silt during the 2007 Baja 1000. It’s the best video I’ve seen that illustrates the insanity of those sections. Also has some crashes that make a brother say “awoooooogah” - enjoy!

• 1 Comment

The New York chapter of the Dukes of Flatbush are hitting the road to attend the Laconia Motorcycle Rally and meet up with the New Hampshire chapter. A mostly annual event for the Dukes, we pack as many people (and dogs) into a small cabin on Lake Winnipesaukee aptly named the “Rage Hut”. Over the years, we’ve managed to sink a boat and cracked supporting beams in the cabin, but it’s all in the name of a good time.

One thing you’ll learn about the Dukes of Flatbush is that we don’t trailer bikes to motorcycle rallies. We ride to them. I swear we’ve seen someone take a bike off a trailer just outside of town and throw dirt on it to give the impression of a long ride. For shame! To that individual all we can say is you better grow a pair.

I’m riding my 1974 Moto Guzzi Eldorado Police bike up this year. I’ve never ridden it on a long trip before so I put a few hundred miles on it this past weekend. It was a real hoss on the highway - very comfortable riding position, plenty of juice, bright lights. I did manage to lose my license plate and a foot peg so I’m going over the entire bike tonight to ensure all of the nuts and bolts are securely fastened. Not looking for a yard sale across the 1,000 or so miles we’ll ride.

One thing the Motto Guzzi has been lacking is proper saddle bags. I just managed to get this pair of vintage police bags off of eBay. I cannot wait to put them on.

We’ll post a round-up after the big event, make sure to take pics of all of the great bikes and people we meet along the way. New Hampshire here we come!

• 1 Comment

I just got back from a 1,230 mile off-road motorcycle trip from Ensenada to Cabo San Lucas. It was a training run to prepare for the Baja 1000. If you’re new, start at the beginning. Otherwise, here’s part six of the story…

DAY 6

If you have been reading this story up ’til now, you may have the sense that I have a lot of off-road motorcycle experience. I have logged tens of thousands of highway miles, but only ridden a few hundred off-road prior to this trip. Lacking the requisite skills, I’d force myself through sections of the course which really took a physical toll. Here’s where things stood:

I found out when I got back to the States that I was riding with a separated shoulder, torn Labrum and bruised collarbone - injuries from a ride I had taken weeks earlier in Utah. I had trouble opening and closing my swollen hands - they were most comfortable in a clawlike position, a result of holding onto grips all day long. It would take about 15 minutes of exercise in the morning to get to the point where they were useful.

I had developed large blisters on my palms as well as a gash on my right butt cheek that had been rubbed completely raw. I did my best with Vaseline, Neosporin and moleskin to repair the damage. I suffered from any number of bruises and pains, randomly distributed across my 36 year old frame. In short, I am seriously banged up.

Day 6 was just shy of 300 miles, the longest day of the trip. I’d consider 300 miles to be a good day on highways so when you think about doing it in Baja, in those conditions, it’s really something. I begun the day with trepidation, but had managed 800 miles and felt reasonably prepared for the day ahead.

The first section was indescribably beautiful. We followed dirt roads that hugged a mountain for 30 miles. The views were incredible.

Amidst the beauty is a great deal of danger. This particular road had incredibly sharp turns and drop-offs of hundreds of feet. I rode this section very slowly and carefully. I couldn’t help thinking about the Baja 1000 race as this had been a section of the 2007 course. I hard trouble imagining doing it at speed, at night, amongst cars - it really gave me pause.

This road eventually lead to a small town, lined with pristine cobblestone streets and home of the Mission de San Francisco Javier Vigge Bigundo. It was founded in 1699 and the structure was built from 1744 to 1758. On December 2nd each year, thousands of pilgrims flock from all over Mexico to this special place.

The next 70 miles were fast and fun. A sandy road with gravel here and there, big straightaways and wide sweeping turns. This section had tons of water crossings which helped cool you down and added variety. We were criss-crossing rancher’s land so every now and then you’d make it past a home where cattle gathered for water and food. As soon as you saw any sign of civilization, you immediately downshift and stand - looking for cows or donkeys which would invariably be around the next corner.

We would ride staggered in groups so it wasn’t uncommon to be riding alone for an hour or more - you find a natural cadence and really get into it. We’d stop every 30 miles or so to catch up, check oil, get a drink of water.

We then made it to the highway where we met our supply truck. We fueled the bikes and grabbed a bite to eat. In no time, we were back on the road, riding 60 miles of boring blacktop. We then cut off the highway around 170 miles into the day. We ran across some riders from the Malcom Smith group who told us to be very careful on the section ahead. It was Sunday and a favorite local pastime is boozing and taking 4×4’s out in the desert. Be very alert. Look out for cars.

This section lasted around 40 miles and was incredibly brutal. The road was filled with good sized rocks and portions were completely devoid of sand, so you’d come over a hill and be riding across what amounted to chewed up concrete. It was also mentally tough because you wouldn’t see any other riders - I felt very isolated, facing an endless desert ahead.

I was doing my best to keep a decent pace, probably riding around 25-30mph when I struck a small boulder. In a millisecond, I was catapulted off the road, narrowly passing between two large boulders - this is all happening very fast. Another boulder was directly in my path so I cut the steering hard left to get back on the road. The only problem was a large cactus directly in my path. I hit it dead on, causing it to explode into a million barbs. Many found purchase in my right arm. In another millisecond, I was back on the road and stopped. To be completely honest - I was incredibly freaked out at this point. I had come really close to eating it in the middle of the desert, alone and under a hundred degree sun. I rested for a minute or two and thought the best thing was not to overthink what had happened, but to immediately keep going. I desperately wanted to get through this section as it was getting the better of me.

I got the bike up into 3rd gear and everything felt wrong. It seemed like things weren’t clicking. I shifted into second and didn’t feel any better. I tried first, more of the same. I felt that I was starting to lose it, so I sped up into third and decided to grin and bear it. When I caught up with my group about 10 miles later, they pointed out that I had a flat. I had been riding on my rim. In my adrenalin-fueled freak out, I hadn’t even noticed.

We swapped my tire and another for our guide, George. They also helped pull the cactus spines out of my right arm. At this point, I have ridden about 200 miles and am really starting to feel it. We have 100 miles left and are almost to the silt, an infamous section of Baja. Oh dear god.

We hit the silt about 20 miles later. Silt has the consistency of talcum powder - it is incredibly fine. If you hit a patch of silt at speed, your bike will immediately slow down, likely throwing you from your mount. You need to approach with caution and once you are in it, keep the bike in 2nd gear and hammer the throttle. You won’t be able to see anything as you are encased in a fine mist - you really just point the bike in a direction of your choosing and hope for the best. If that isn’t bad enough, these sections aren’t on level ground - they are on windy uphills and downhills. It is the devil himself.

I was pretty burnt out at this point and had a lot of difficulty. I dropped my bike at least 5 times. Picking up a bike over and over is very tiring, especially in this stuff. People say that every time you pick up a bike it adds 20 miles to your day. I’m not sure if that’s right, but I was completely exhausted. One of the guides, Pepe, helped me get the bike into the desert, off the silt - and we navigated a course around it. It was the only way I could get through.

I have now reached a point where I have gone far past my physical limits. I have to lay against the bike while I’m riding - I’m too tired to keep myself upright. It’s scary because you know you shouldn’t be riding, but there are really no options. Keep moving as fast as you can.

I’m riding along at 35mph and about to cross a wash, basically a dried out riverbed. As I’m coming down a small hill to cross it, I catch something out of my right eye in the periphery. It appears to be a truck and I’m going to hit it. I immediately locked both brakes, but you just slide in the sand - your speed doesn’t decrease fast enough. I made a decision at that point to bail from the bike. I simply jumped off. The bike went to the right and I ended up lying on the ground, looking straight ahead. I then saw the tires of a speeding black Cherokee jeep pass directly in front of my eyes, less than a foot away. That one second lasted forever.

I realized that I had come pretty close to cashing out, right then, right there. I knew there were other riders behind me so I crawled off the road to avoid getting hit. I pulled myself up onto a log and completely broke down. I was physically and emotionally gone. I have never felt this way before - there was nothing left inside me. I would never wish that feeling upon anyone.

A guide had been riding just behind me and saw the whole thing go down. He never even saw the truck until it blew by me as I laid in the road. The driver stopped - he was coming from a fishing camp just down the coast. He was as freaked out as I was. I couldn’t even speak to him. I couldn’t speak to anyone. I just sat there.

After 5 minutes, I drank a little water and took inventory. I had to ride at least 30 more off-road miles until we met the truck. We then had 30 miles of blacktop to La Paz. I had no choice, but to continue on. I got back on the bike and got it done. The only way I could get through it was to tell myself that I would never have to come back here and race the Baja 1000. At that moment - the thought of it was simply too much.

I didn’t drive fast, but I got it done. This picture was taken about 15 minutes after the near miss, when I met up with the group and where we recounted what had happened. I didn’t want to talk about it. I wanted to enjoy the view, listen to the waves, be far away. Pepe told the story. Thanks Pepe.

I made it to the truck. And then I rode the highway miles into town. I wasn’t going to put my bike on the truck. Baja may have won that day, but I would ride every single mile to Cabo - I would not let Baja beat me.

La Paz is a lovely town, but I’m far too exhausted to go on - this has been a long post and one that I have dreaded writing. I hope it doesn’t dissuade anyone from going down there and experiencing it for themselves. This could have happened anywhere. When it’s your time, it’s your time. And I may just be crazy enough to go down there next year and do that race. If I do and can get that done, it would be the greatest accomplishment of my life. I have no doubt.

Stay tuned for the final installment…

• 0 Comments

I was down in Baja doing a 1,230 mile training run from Ensenada to Cabo San Lucas, and quickly came to terms with how brutal the terrain is on both yourself and your motorcycle. One minute you are blazing along and the next minute you’re changing a flat in the middle of nowhere under a 100 degree sun.

It takes about 30 minutes to change a front tube and about 45 minutes to change a rear one, and that is by someone who really knows their stuff. The Baja 1000 is a timed race where the possibility of not finishing is quite real. In fact, only about 35% of teams finish the race each year. Each second is precious so you want to avoid flats at all costs.

One thing I heard repeatedly in Baja was that you should run a Michelin Bib Mousse on your front tire and a heavy duty tube on your rear tire. I would nod in accordance all the time thinking to myself, what the hell does a Bull Moose have to do with any of this?

Once I got the spelling right, I found out that it’s “a foam insert that can replace conventional inner tubes in off road motorcycle tires. It is a ring of butyl honeycomb foam with its cells filled with nitrogen. It has a smooth-molded outer skin that is designed to slip into specific size off-road motorcycle tire. Bib-Mousse have a considerable advantage over normal inner-tubes, as they do not and cannot be punctured or burst.”

I have never ridden on this type of tube, but was told that it rides differently than a regular tube. It feels heavier and carries more momentum which can take some getting used to, especially as you come into corners. I have seen some disclaimers that it shouldn’t be ridden on hard surfaces for more than 20 miles at high speed which presents a bit of a dilemma since the Baja 1000 contains longer sections of pavement that connect parts of the course. I guess you grin and bear it. Certainly beats a flat…

• 1 Comment

I am a sucker for motorcycle stunts, thought this was interesting:

“Working in conjunction with BMX legend Mat Hoffman and some of the best stunt riders in the world, Johnny Knoxville hosts a super stunt spectacular in homage to the late, great Evel Knievel. A few of the guys that step up and risk life and limb in the spirit of the world famous daredevil include Travis Pastrana, Scott Palmer, Allan Cooke, Davin “Psycho” Halford, Trigger Gumm and “Harley” Jeff Schneider, all of whom attempt a number of ridiculous stunts worthy of making television history. This DVD also includes over an hour of bonus features like an extended look at Johnny Knoxville’s painful hospital visit, thoughts on Evel Knievel’s legacy, a hilarious behind-the-scenes featurette, as well as a thorough look back at Mat Hoffman’s trailblazing career.”

Buy it here.

Has anyone seen this? Any good?

• 0 Comments

Sometimes a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do and, I guess, this is one of those times for our beloved admin, erstwhile coach, training partner extraordinaire and certified master of the grill Jeff. He’s packed up the shop, loaded what’s important and is redeploying to the left coast in search of fortune, adventure and cracked crab. As we all navigate the fog caused by last night’s sayonara wumpus, I’d just like to pause for the cause and give a hearty HUZZAH to our partner in crime.

Fare thee well sir. You’ll be sorely missed but we’ve every confidence you’ll quickly get to holdin’ it down out there and swelling the ranks of the Dukes West Coast Chapter. Write when you get work and we’ll come inspect your beachhead.

Vaya con dios y un gato en tu pantalones Amigo.
-mismanagement

• 0 Comments

I just got back from a 1,230 mile off-road motorcycle trip from Ensenada to Cabo San Lucas. It was a training run to prepare for the Baja 1000. Here’s part five of the story…

DAY 5

I’d wake up in Baja every morning and think about the day ahead, having peppered our guides with questions about the course the night before. I’d think to myself, “I’ve made it through some pretty hairy stuff, I doubt I’ll see anything today that isn’t at least familiar”. This was important because different terrain requires different riding styles. My biggest fear wasn’t getting hurt, it was that I’d encounter something that I couldn’t get through. By this time, I had three solid days of riding behind me and was feeling more comfortable, but I was really starting to feel the miles. I was taking 800mg of Ibuprofren every morning and every night, and had to use pliers to get my boots off because my fingers lacked the strength. I am halfway through the trip.

Day 5 started out like any other day, 5:30 wake-up call and on the road by 7. It was pretty standard fare at first, gravel roads that would tolerate high speeds.

This gave way to incredibly long stretches of straight road that seemingly went to the end of the earth. I was on a rare section of blacktop in top gear, really hammering the throttle. I couldn’t tell what was going on ahead, but it seemed like something was obstructing the road. As it turned out, the road was out and there was a short detour. It was no big deal, but I couldn’t help think about that same situation at night. Running at 90 or 100mph, that type of hazard could really ruin your day.

The terrain became a lot more sandy which was usually an indication we’re getting close to water. That was true, but what we encountered was a dried lake bed. I can’t remember the name off the top of my head, but it’s a famous part of Baja - reminds me of the Bonneville Salt Flats. Perfectly smooth, hard packed sand. We were all kids in a candy shop. You could drive balls out with no fear. A few guys were expert at riding wheelies and I have some amazing video of them going around 60mph. Will post. Incredibly fun stuff. A lot of these flat sections would be connected by deep sandy areas so you were constantly switching your riding position, but it was easy enough and satisfying. The day was really flying by and lunch was just ahead.

We stopped at San Juanico (a/k/a Scorpion Bay) to get gas at a makeshift station. This was typical of these remote areas.

And then I saw Scorpion Bay. The “town” if you can call it that, sits atop a bluff looking down at amazing surf break. One was literally the best place to learn to surf in the world. 3 foot tall waves, perfectly spaced that you could ride for 5 minutes straight. You could even walk to the break! Are you kidding me?

Just down the beach was a bigger break so it literally had something for everyone. Truly a magical place. We grabbed Shrimp burritos at the local restaurant and had an hour to relax, catch some rays. If I hadn’t been wearing so much gear, I would have stripped down and jumped in the water, but was content to find a patch of terra firma and let my mind wander.

The best day ever, but Baja has a way of flipping the script. We were crossing the Continental Divide later that day so I expected some pretty rocky technical riding and Baja delivered. It started off on nasty, rocky roads with sharp turns and steep drop offs. It was really brutal stuff. It was here that we encountered our most serious bike issue. George, one of the guides, looked down to see oil pouring out of the side of his bike. One of the gas tank mounts that was welded to the frame had broken off. It left a hole in the frame that also served as the oil reservoir. Big problem.

We took the whole bike apart and left with few options, patched it up with some JB weld and duct tape. We had a quart of oil on us so that and the duct tape had to hold for 70 miles, and hold it did. Amazing.

We then hit the most technical section of the course. I don’t have any pictures because when you’re in this stuff, you’re just trying to get through it. You’re not dicking around, snapping pics. The worst sections were little more than a field of boulders. I was having trouble imaging how a car could ever get through it and then encountered a truck doing just that. Wow. I’d guess it took me about 2 hours to get through 15 or 20 miles of it. Towards the end, I felt pretty comfortable, but was completely exhausted. Just another lesson courtesy of Baja.

With the hard part behind us, we blazed into Loreto which is an amzing border town.

After a quick dip in the pool and a few beers, I could start worrying about Day 6 which was the longest and most difficult day of the whole trip.

Read Part Six 

• 1 Comment

I took a spill while riding offroad in Utah and landed squarely on my right shoulder. I was wearing a typical set-up, roost deflector and elbow guards, which offered no protection. I separated my shoulder and bruised my collarbone in that spill. I’m not sure if body armor would have prevented that injury, but I immediately purchased a Thor Impact suit which offers a great deal more protection in one reasonably priced, convenient package.

I wore this rig while riding 1,230 miles from Ensenada to Cabo San Lucas and wanted to share my thoughts. First of all, $140 is not a lot of money for shoulder, elbow, forearm and back protection, not to mention an integrated kidney belt. The price is definitely right. The various components are connected by a fine mesh undersuit so it’s easy to keep track of everything and put on. I was concerned that the suit would be hot, but I never felt uncomfortable riding with it on, even in 100 degree desert heat. I took quite a few spills during that trip and the suit did a fantastic job of protecting my upper body. During one particularly hectic moment, I came off the course and blew through a cactus going 30mph. I don’t know if you have ever driven through a cactus on a motorcycle, but they explode. No shit. This one sent spines that completely covered my right arm. If I had just been wearing a jersey and elbow guards, I would have been in a lot of pain - the Thor Impact suit bore the brunt and really saved the day.

Now for the cons. I wear a Leatt Neck Brace which wants to be underneath any chest protection.That’s not really possible using the Thor Impact Suit - it needs to be on the inside. I’m not sure if this negates the utility of a Leatt neck brace, but definitely made me wonder. As well, it comes with an integrated, removable kidney belt. The problem is that the belt zips in on both sides. When you tighten the belt, it puts pressure on those zippers which slowly come undone. After 20 miles, one or both sides of the belt will come unattached and ball up in your jersey. It’s incredibly annoying and renders the belt completely useless. If you do pick one of these up, zip the belt out and throw it away. Buy yourself a regular kidney belt that wraps all the way around your body, affixes with velcro.

In all, I heartily recommend the Thor Impact suit. It’s a great value and works well. Just be careful if you use a Leatt neck brace and make sure you buy a kidney belt if you’re going to ride long, or ride whoops.

• 0 Comments

I just got back from a 1,230 mile off-road motorcycle trip from Ensenada to Cabo San Lucas. It was a training run to prepare for the Baja 1000. Here’s part four of the story…

DAY 4

We left Bahia De Los Angeles before 7:00AM, standard operating procedure most days.

There were a lot of riders (~80) staying in the same town, taking part in a Malcom Smith Charity Ride. We tried to get the jump on them, but ended up riding with them most of the day. At one of our first stops, I saw a bike with a 1x number on it. I was naturally curious and as it turned out, it was Malcom Smith himself. Our paths crossed many times over the course of the trip - a real pleasure.

The roads for the first half of the day were pretty rough, but you could travel at a fast clip - I’d guess around 60mph.

The drill was finding a clean line around any particularly large obstacles (rocks) in your path. This was a road where a steering dampner would have been exceedingly useful. It’s fast, but it wears you down and you get a lot of flats. We got 2 of them about 50 miles into the day. The second one was particularly nasty as a portion of the tire had been torn off, exposing the ruptured tube underneath. You don’t carry spare tires, just tubes, so this presented a bit of a challenge. The first step is getting the bike up on a ’stand’ and removing the rear tire. We made a stand out of rocks, something Baja has plenty of…

(more…)