I love a good challenge. Especially if it involves a motorbike. Who amongst us does not? An iron butt ride 1,000 miles through a foggy night, an old tank shifted Panhead, up a mid western canyon, an ominous mountain pass serpentine on my ‘76 Bonneville, good times. All challenges made easier through the assurance that…

I have ridden many places in my life where motorcycle travel was inhospitable. Certainly not for the weak of heart or the weekend rider. It is a challenge accepted by the biker to get to the sunny place, the curvy place, the better place. Parts of Central America, Downtown Manhattan, Tijuana, the Jersey turnpike… I…

Napa on a motorcycle was a fun jaunt, but really not our cup of tea. The food and accommodations were world class. The vineyards were full of history and interesting people. The wine was ‘fab’ as they say. But the riding was mediocre. Simply stated, IT CONTAINED NO RISK, NO FLAW, NO CURVE, and NO…

So the pilot dips low right and says: “There you see it ladies and gentleman, Welcome to The City of Angels”. We are no sooner gathering our riding gear from overhead bins and from under seats and we deplane and we’re off to Hollywood to mooch a guest room from my homeboy George (GPK) and…

Whether you know it or not, you have bucket lists. The cars you’d like to drive. The jobs you’d like to have. The vacations you’d like to go on. All products of the basic human trait we call ‘want’. The want to succeed is inherent in our nature. The want to achieve and to feel…

I have 3 three sisters. I am grateful to God for each of them. Patti, Coleen and Kerry, three more Irish female names you couldn’t make up. Three better sisters, you couldn’t imagine. They each have quirks and traits and habits that reflect our collective upbringing. They are not bikers nor married to bikers although…

One Month Ago: The light turns green and I toe the shifter down into 1st gear and let the clutch out till I feel the plates touch, nudging the bike ready to roll, but I wait. The black Lexis in front of me hesitates then goes. I catch a motion in the corner of my…

So there I was, straddled over the musty boxes in the old barn, flashlight in hand, peering under a filthy tarp. Moments before the lumps and protrusions beneath could have been an old motorcycle, could have been a cord of wood. The dark building smelled of spilled oil soaked into moldy cardboard. I half expected…

So it’s Sunday night, mid June and I’m sitting on my back patio listening to the frogs down at the pond, cigar burning in my big ceramic ashtray. Pecking away at my Mac, which I hate, bouncing ideas around in my head for my next biker story for you to read. I keep a list…

Riding a motorcycle is not for everyone. Notwithstanding the risk it takes to throw a leg over, there are physical demands precluding some people from even attempting the feat. Assuming arguendo that the average motorcycle weighs about 6 or 7 hundred pounds, it is a wonder ANY of us can do this while simultaneously balancing…

The biker life is chock full of clichés. We also have our fair share of jokes, quotes, stories and tales, legends, parables, lies and yarns. Call them what you will, we bikers are a funny and clever lot. I’ve written some clever biker banter over the years, in hopes that someday someone will care enough…

Contrary to popular biker culture, I have steadfastly resisted the urge to wear the ubiquitous black biker T-shirt. I have never been one to blend in with the crowd, although I confess, I must own 5 dozen of these black cotton shirts stuffed, stashed and crammed all over my house, garage, barn, office, etc… They…

I remember certain things from my youth vividly. Like the year I received a “Big-Wheel” under the Christmas tree (1968). I remember the road trip to Minnesota in my parents’ Volkswagen Micro-Bus to visit an odd-smelling aunt who frightened me (1971). I distinctly recall the tiny green plastic army soldiers scattered about the backyard that…

I’m sitting in my home office immersed in my usual Thursday night routine. Kids asleep, Yvonne upstairs pecking away at her computer, Dachshund Jack Russell mix fast asleep at my feet. All is quiet in what my neighbors call the ‘terrace’ level, that which I call —- ‘a basement.’ Nonetheless, this is my refuge from…

So, I pull out the bar stool and peel off my leather jacket to sling it across the back of the stool. I couldn’t help but notice the couple sitting in the next two stools, clad in black with Killer Creek Harley t-Shirts, with similarly slung leather jackets. They were obviously the riders on the…

There is something about the water, particularly lakes for me. The sound of waves, the babble of headwater streams, gentle waves lapping up against a pebbled shoreline of a great lake. Sounds not typically associated with riding a motorcycle unless you ride your bike to a lakeside retreat or to your mountainside cottage on a…

A few of months ago I spent the weekend down at the Atlanta Motor Speedway. It was that time of year again, the ABATE spring Rally. It was a great rally this year, subject of a whole separate story. There was greasy food and used parts strewn about tarps and loud rock music and dust…

I do not recall the exact year. It was certainly a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. My best recollection is that it was the ‘mid’ maybe ‘late’ eighties. I say that because the one detail that is very clear to me is the bike I rode that year. A recycled Harley…

My life is sometimes filled with dichotomies. Being a “Biker” “Lawyer” itself can sometimes be a contradiction in terms. An Oxymoron if you will. Lawyers are typically thought of as genteel aristocratic types with French cuffs and wingtip shoes in a Mercedes Benzes while Bikers are thought of as typically leather clad roughians donning tattoos…

Technically, as I sit astride this 1952 Sunbeam motorcycle, I am 3,937.7 miles from home, as the crow flies. Dublin City, Ireland, a few hundred miles from my destination, Donegal, my ancestral home. A long ride on a bike although I confess, I flew here. Alas, an old bike is no less fickle in a…