A Light Box in the Garage

John Hateley Wheelies for Boone's Farm Strawberry Hill

2010-09-10T15:14:00.000-05:00

The wheelie stunt in this Boone's Farm Strawberry Hill ad was done by former professional motorcycle racer and Hollywood stunt man John Hateley (whose garage was featured in Motorcycle Dream Garages). This ad was his first major Hollywood stunt work, and it led to his appearances in more than 50 major motion pictures, including Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, Crank and Iron Man 2 (see his IMDB profile for details). For more about John and his colorful career, check out my feature article about John in the September issue of Motorcyclist magazine.

Colorado Pass Bagging Resources

2010-09-10T09:26:00.002-05:00

If you are looking to cross as many passes as you can in Colorado, this list below will help you plan a route, pick your passes, and find a motorcycle. Watch the November issue of Motorcycle Escape for my feature article about bagging passes in Colorado.

Pass Baggging Resources

Vail Off Road Rental
PO Box 3753
Avon, CO 81620
970.446.7153
reservations@vailoffroadrental.com

Listing of Other Motorcycle Rental Businesses

BMW Colorado Pass Bagger 50
The BMW Motorcycle Club of Colorado hosts a contest in which you sign up and do 50 passes. Only a handful of folks do it each year.

Pass Bagger 50 Resource List
Includes recommended books and maps as well as links to Google maps of the passes. Also includes downloadable Excel spreadsheet list of all passes with GPS coordinates and difficulty ratings. Awesome resource.

Randy Bishop’s Web site
Randy has bagged 131 Colorado passes, and he heavily documents his rides. He also did the Iron Butt 1000 on a KLR.

RECOMMENDED BOOKS

Colorado Roads and Recreation Atlas is great for planning your route. Every small road in the state is shown, and this atlas is focused on road travel rather than foot travel.

In The Passes of Colorado, authors Ed and Gloria Helmuth have compiled information about 469 named passes in Colorado. For each pass, you'll find a brief history, the elevation, map location, which topographical map the pass appears on, and the elevation.

COLORADO ROAD RESOURCES

Passes and Canyons: Guide to Colorado Motorcycling
Motorcycle Roads Colorado Listing
Colorado Office of Tourism / Recommended Roads
High 5: The Highest Road in North America
Open Road Journey / Colorado Suggested Road Routes
Alpine Loop Byway
65-mile loop that includes Engineer and Cinnamon Pass

Looking for Incredible Garages . . . from Around the Globe

2010-09-01T08:21:00.000-05:00

I'm working on a follow-up to Motorcycle Dream Garages, and this one has an international spin. I'm looking for the best garages of the world. Personally, I love those funky spaces that have housed racers, backyard builders, and home hobbyists for decades. I am also looking for a handful of completely over-the-top spare-no-expense gorgeous palaces. And anything else that is fascinating, odd, wacky, or just the home of a great story.

The garages need to house primarily vehicles, either motorcycles, cars or something else that burns fossil fuels. The space should be amazing, featuring interesting architecture, an incredible setting, or a building or situation that is funky and unique.

I'm particularly interested in garages in Japan, Central and South America, Russia, Mexico, and of course the UK. And Ireland, Spain, Portugal, Morocco . . . you get the picture.

Contact me directly with any leads at lklancher@mac.com.

Southern Wisconsin Beer Destinations

2010-08-16T17:04:00.006-05:00

I recently filed a story about touring craft breweries in Southern Wisconsin for Motorcycle Cruiser magazine, and the list of beer destinations was too long to print so I posted it here. I've also posted a map. Cheers!

View Wisconsin Craft Brewery Tour in a larger map

Breweries

New Glarus Brewing Company
Minhas Craft Brewery
Lakefront Brewery
Sand Creek Brewing Company
Tyranena Brewing
Esser's Best
Pearl Street Brewery
Rush River Beer
Capital Brewery
Sprecher Brewing Company

Museums
Milwaukee Beer Museum
National Brewery Museum
Museum of Beer and Brewing

Brew Pubs, Tap Rooms, and Dive Bars
Baumgartner's Cheese Store and Tavern
Bodega Brew Pub
Great Dane Brew Pub

Delafield Brew Haus
Roman's Pub
Water Street Brewery
The Safe House

Lodging
The Iron Horse Hotel (Milwaukee)
Chalet Landhaus Inn (New Glarus)

Small Garage Paradise

2010-07-10T15:42:00.001-05:00

While my move to Austin, Texas has overall been wonderful, one of the tough parts has been leaving behind my dream garage in Minnesota. The time has come to rectify this situation, and make my little garage here in Austin into a gearhead escape.

I'm looking for suggestions from readers about how to affordably outfit a small garage, with a focus on DIY and products that provide high return (they don't have to be cheap--just worth it).

So if you have suggestions for projects, products or designs that use space efficiently, let me know! Send some photos if you've done something particularly space-saving or just plain cool in your own garage.

Note that my garage caters to several specific needs. It houses motorcycles and gear, bicycles and gear, camping gear, canoe gear, and a small workbench with a vise and a grinder.

Here are some of the specific storage challenges I'm looking to solve:

• How to coat the garage floor in a high-quality, DIY, economical fashion
• Motorcycle gear storage; any interesting ideas for helmets, gloves, etc.
• Bicycle storage: as compact and efficient as possible
• Laptop mounting: I'd like to have a station to mount your laptop near the work bench for garage projects
• Air conditioning / Heating: I'm interested in one wall-mounted unit that does both, as efficiently as possible
• Garage door technology: I'm interested in garage doors that are space-efficient.

If you have suggestions that will help small garage owners, drop me a line at lee@671press.com.

Chimera F2 10x20-foot Light Bank

2010-07-05T16:20:00.004-05:00

Creating studio photography of some of the rare and collectible John Deere tractors at the Keller Collection in Brillion, Wisconsin provided an interesting challenge.

The collection of valuable machines is owned by Walter and Bruce Keller. The father-son duo has more than 620 tractors, with more than 400 of those John Deeres. The son, Bruce, runs a commercial construction business, and he worked closely with me to build the studio to photograph his tractors.

Bruce and I determined that the studio could be built inside a closed building with minimal outside light sources and ample power. The largest of the machines, the Model 8010, was 18 feet long, and more than 11 feet high. After careful calculation, I determined a 20x30-foot floor space would be big enough for the 8010. The walls would be 16 feet high. This would allow us to photograph the big machine, as well as about 30 others.

The crew of seven consisted of myself and Bruce Keller. Walter was in and out, providing commentary on the machines. A videographer and second photographer (Josh Kufahl) and editorial assistant (Joseph Holschuh) were hired to keep the shoot running smoothly. Another three men were hired to move, wash, and detail the tractors. All of us would work together to construct the studio.

Lighting the machines properly required a large, overhead source of direct, even light. The best choice for a light modifier was the Chimera 10x20-foot F2 light bank. This large soft box uses two layers of translucent silk to soften the light. You can also (as we did) bounce the light off the inside cover of the top of the box. The result is even light on a vehicle that provides gorgeous highlights on the top curves and casts enough soft light on the entire subject to require only minimal bounce card fill in order to create beautiful studio images.

The large box is key, as it makes the reflections on the machine clean and seamless. Post-production work was minimal, as the highlights were nearly perfect as shot.
We powered our 10x20-foot light bank with eight Speedotron heads powered by two 4803 strobe packs. The result was even light that was incredibly powerful. When I metered the first shoot, which had the box about eight feet off the ground (set for the shorter machines), the light read F20 @ 1/200th at the top of the stack of the tractor and F16 at the bottom of the scene. The meter actually read F16 under the tractor, as the light bounced off the floor with considerable strength. The exposure range was similar with even the largest tractors under the box.

The 10x20 bank we used is the transportable model. Heavier versions are available for permanent studio use. Our bank weighed about 150 pounds without lights, making it easy to lift into place.

The box is easily transportable, and folds down into three large duffel bags. We used the older generation box, which is set up with tools. Construction required several hours of work by four people. Chimera has since changed the design, and the new model can be set up with two people in less than two hours. The new version of the box is priced at $9,900, and available direct from Chimera.

Note: Photos by Josh Kufahl.

Motorcycle Adventures in Hokkaido, Japan

2010-06-24T08:12:00.000-05:00

James Pratt has created a cool new mag called Adventure Riding. This month, he ran my feature story about discovering the joys of rider houses, hot springs, Japanese bikes, and beer machines on the motorcycle paradise that is Hokkaido, Japan. Check out this month's issue.

The Devil Can Ride

2010-06-14T10:44:00.001-05:00

My latest book, The Devil Can Ride: The World's Best Motorcycle Writing, is out and on the shelves this month. The book is a compilation of great motorcycle writing, with pieces from Hunter S. Thompson, Robert Pirsig, Mark Singer, Kevin Cameron, Peter Egan, and Jamie Elvidge.

Check out my Q&A with The New Yorker magazine about how the book came to be, or a book review by Larry Edsall.

And, of course, you can buy The Devil Can Ride: The World's Best Motorcycle Writing

Here's a bit of background about how the book came to be.

I read Runaway Ralph a minimum of 572 times at age eight. While I loved to read and would have consumed books voraciously wherever I grew up, my habits were compounded by the fact that I lived in rural northern Wisconsin three miles outside of a town of 50 people and there wasn’t much else to do, particularly when the thermometer read 60 degrees below zero, the narrow little gravel road to our house was snowed in from here to eternity, and the county plow trucks’ first priority was to open up the roads to the seven bars in the township before the DTs killed their customers.

After a particularly long, cold winter, most of which I spent huddled under a blanket in our living room fixating on motorcycles and mice, my father dragged me away from my books long enough for me to fall desperately in lust. You see, my Dad cut wood to heat our little house, and he needed to get his chain saw sharpened at a shop a few miles from our home. That shop later housed the Three Little Pigs Restaurant and the Swine and Dine Saloon, a tiny bar-restaurant where art-deco wall hangings, slumming south Minneapolis granola sorts, stoned hipsters, and local farmers with manure stains on their cuffed Levi’s intermingled in Leinenkugel-fueled harmony.

That was later, when the outside world started to creep into the North Woods. Before the onslaught of chain restaurants, radio syndication, and cable television, the place was a proper greasy little shop that repaired the locals’ hacked-out small equipment for pennies and sold chain saws, power ice augers, worms, fish hooks, milk, and Indian motorcycles in order to pay their astronomical heating bills.

My first terminal case of showroom lust was caused by one of those Indian motorcycles, a machine built for Indian by Italjet with a chrome tank, motocross bars, and a loop frame. I loved that bike and would sit on it and beg mercilessly for one. My parents were both teachers, and Dad had just enough cash on him to pay the $1.50 to sharpen the saw chain. Plus Dad considered it exorbitant to pay more than 20 bucks for a family meal, a hotel room, or a set of tires. He was not opposed to spending slightly more than that sum on rototillers, purebred beagles, and shotguns, but a new motorcycle was not and never would be part of Dad’s fiscal priorities, means, or intentions.

In the summer of 1977, my entire family packed up into the family’s pickup truck and took the great American summer road trip through the West. After the mandatory stops at Mt. Rushmore, Yellowstone, and the Corn Palace (and never paying more than 20 bucks for a campsite, much less a hotel), we crossed the Great Salt Lake and spent a week with my Mom’s sister’s family in a Sacramento suburb. Tucked away in the back of my uncle’s garage was a Honda CT70. During one of Uncle Jim and my Dad’s beer and B.S. sessions in his backyard, Uncle Jim offered to sell the Honda to Dad for $25. To my great shock, Dad eventually agreed to pay the lavish sum, and the bike and I rode together in the back of our Ford truck all the way to Wisconsin.

On the way home, I added motorcycle magazines to the stacks of science fiction, mystery, and spy novels in my room. Reading-wise, my taste ran toward Heinlein and Ludlum as a teenager, although I read anything I found on the shelves in our house or the local library. I read 1984 several times because my parents had a copy, and I read a host of Reader’s Digest condensed books for the same reason (and came to despise them).

I ground the CT70 into bits riding it in the fields and trails near our house. When the CT70 died, Dad bought me an XL100 in nearly perfect condition. To this day, I consider that act proof of how deeply he cared for his children because I suspect he didn’t quite understand the allure of motorcycles, and I know he didn’t believe spending $400 on one to be a wise use of his limited resources.

The rest of the machines of my youth I bought with my own money, and I worked and rode as much as I could through high school, devoting all of my earnings to motorcycles, movie-and-burger dates, and library fines.

In journalism school at the University of Minnesota, I was introduced to literary journalism (also known as narrative nonfiction) by Professor George Hage, a wonderful man who incessantly railed on me about my grammar and read my work out loud in his class. The writing form appealed to me tremendously, blending my interest in drama with my desire to read extensively on a topic as intriguing to me as intelligent robots, sexually aware aliens, or secret agents with mysterious pasts. As I became a semi-adult (an ongoing process that my wife assures me regularly is far from complete), I was increasingly drawn to nonfiction writers who used the dramatic techniques of fiction writers.

Tom Wolfe, Tracy Kidder, and John McPhee became (and remain) three of my favorite writers. I could read their books in the journalism school library without having to hide them under the covers of Harper’s or the Minnesota Daily, plus the topics these writers covered—astronauts and roadkill-eating naturalists, for example—hit the sweet spot of my literary sophistication.

Shortly after college, I went to work for Motorbooks as an acquisitions editor and became immersed in the world of motorcycle literature. Reading motorcycle magazines became part of my job, and knowing who did what well was a key component to being a good editor. I read and learned and also had the good fortune to work with a few of the better writers in the field.

When I set out to do this book, I wanted to combine some of the great short pieces and book excerpts from mainstream writers who delved into motorcycles with meaningful things written by writers from the motorcycle magazine industry. I also intended to include pieces from interesting motorcyclists who had something to say but weren’t necessarily paid writers.

The writers in this collection all have something to say about the role motorcycles play in personal lives as well as society. Unfortunately, none of them write about sex-absorbed aliens. But I still found material that related to what I know well, which is riding motorcycles and reading dramatic narratives.

If you think I missed some great literature, you are probably correct. I was not able to read everything written on the topic, plus these pieces were selected by a man whose favorite works include a bit about a guy who holds the world record for stuffing weasels down his pants. Hungry ones.

So if you want to suggest some piece of motorcycle writing you believe is worth considering for another collection, email me at lklancher@mac.com. There is certainly room for another book like this at some point down the road, plus I’m always up for an interesting read.

I hope you enjoy the book, and be sure to take your nose out of it once and a while to go down to your local chain saw shop or motorcycle store and fall in lust. Better yet, go riding.

On the Road: Tractors, Garages and John Deeres

2010-05-05T10:01:00.000-05:00

The road is calling. To be more specific, garages are calling. In less than a week, I'll be packing my gear in the wagon and heading out on a photographic adventure for two upcoming books. For The Art of John Deere (Voyageur Press, April 2011), I'll be photographing some of the rarest John Deere tractors in the world in a custom-built studio near Appleton, Wisconsin. The tractors are owned by Bruce and Walter Keller. The Keller Collection contains more than 600 perfectly restored or original condition tractors, many of which are the first and last serial number of their model line.

For Ultimate Tractor Garages (Voyageur Press, October 2011), I'll be photographing a large handful of places throughout the Midwest, including Farmall-Land, the incredible collection and museum owned by Jerry Mez. I'll also hit places where farm tractors are treated to life inside the house, a farm built around one of the rarest tractors in existence, and some crusty old shops where old-time mechanics have been wrenching on old iron pretty much since time as we know it began.

I'll post some highlights on this blog. If you are interested in regular updates in real time as all this unfolds, check out my Twitter Feed.

P.S. And for those of you who eat, sleep and breath cars and motorcycles, stay tuned. I can't let the cat out of the bag quite yet, but we have something special cooked up for y'all.

Geezers Garage

2010-04-30T15:20:00.000-05:00

While waiting for an NHL playoff game to start the other night, I caught a "news-oriented" show that featured at least five minutes of people sucking suggestively on pickles. This led me to wonder: if sophomoric crap like that can make it on the air why is Geezers Garage not showing 24/7? Check out this clip. And have a great weekend!

The Bob Lutz Garage

2010-04-27T13:48:00.000-05:00

This video tour of Bob Lutz's garage from AutoWeek's Web site is fascinating. Bob is a hard-core car guy and it shows, plus he has interesting tastes in cars. The Cunningham and the Pinzguaer are my favorites--I love purposeful vehicles. Bob's commentary on GM is also well worth a read. No punches pulled, and minimal B.S. I can respect that.

http://www.autoweek.com/article/20100427/CARNEWS/100429863

KTM/FMF Motocross Fan Experience

2010-03-29T17:07:00.002-05:00

KTM and FMF have again partnered together with MX Sports Pro Racing to bring KTM Motocross fans the ultimate viewing experience - The “KTM/FMF Motocross Fan Experience”. The events will take place this summer and in conjunction with four rounds of the Lucas Oil AMA Motocross Championship Series.

The KTM/FMF Motocross Fan Experience, which sold out at both venues last year, is a KTM exclusive trackside seating area and all-day VIP access offered to KTM fans and owners. The events will take place at the Hangtown Motocross Classic (5/22/10), Thunder Valley MX Park (6/26/10), Red Bud Motocross Championship (7/3/10) and the Lucas Oil AMA Pro Motocross Championship season finale at Steel City on September 4, 2010. Tickets are now available for purchase.

With each ticket purchase fans will receive:

Race day admission pass
All-day pit access pass
Free parking for all participants – includes special motor home parking for the first 30 KTM/FMF fans that show up on the day of the race (does not include camping fees)
Free catered lunch
Access to KTM exclusive trackside seating area with Live Timing Screens
Special Autograph Signing with KTM Factory Riders
Post-race Track Walk with explanation of the various elements of the racetrack lead by Jagermeister/KTM and FMF/KTM Team Manager Casey Lytle
Free KTM/FMF event T-shirt
Free Jagermeister/KTM swag for fans over 25 years old

“KTM and FMF were determined to bring fans a pass that lets them live the day in a life of a factory team rider or member. This pass gives you everything – all day admission and pit access, free parking and great seating. Not to mention a free BBQ lunch! This opportunity is too good to pass up,” commented KTM President Jon-Erik Burleson.

A package of this type typically runs for over a $200 value. KTM has partnered with MX Sports to subsidize the tickets for KTM fans and owners and will be offering tickets for only $85.00. A very limited amount of tickets are available per event.

For tickets please contact motocross@ktmusa.com or visit your local KTM dealer.

See you at the races!

Jay Leno's Garage Interview

2010-03-24T09:33:00.000-05:00

Jay Leno cracks wise about spanners, car fires, and marital harmony during my interview with him for Jay Leno's Garage, his Web-based show featuring the cars, motorcycles and authors that frequent his incredible garage in Southern California.

The High-Tech Side of Jay Leno's Garage

2010-03-10T16:33:00.001-06:00

In honor of my interview last Sunday for Jay Leno's Garage, here is a video brought to my attention by book designer Tom Heffron. The piece showcases a super-cool machine called the NextEngine 3D Scanner that creates a 3D digital pattern for any part. You can then use Dimension 3D printer to make a plastic prototype of the part.

Note that writer Lindsay Brooke pointed out that rapid prototyping has been around since the 1980s. What's relatively new about this development is the fact that the machine used in the clip is quite affordable. You can pick a scanner up for about $3,000--check it out here. Hmmm . . . does your garage need one? Mine certainly does!

P.S. More on my visit with Jay last Sunday to come shortly.

Baja Off-Road Racing Documentary

2010-02-05T11:31:00.002-06:00

I came across this well-done video of two mountain bikers who decided to tackle the Baja 1000. If you like the teaser, go to the Chainslayer Web site to see all of the episodes about the racing drama experienced by riders Radek Burkat and Andrew Krynen. Mountain bike cinemaphotographer Ambrose Weingart put together the film, and it's worth a look. Not to mention an inspiration to ride!

Upcoming Film, American Cafe

2010-01-03T11:45:00.001-06:00

This interesting film, American Cafe, was brought to my attention by fellow tractor journalist Guy Fay. The film captures the Cafe Racer society through the eyes (and on rides with) members of southern Wisconsin's Slimey Crud Motorcycle Gang, and also as they build a couple of cafe racers out of a Honda CL350 and CB650SC. Looks like a cool film and producer Jason J. Gullickson of Second Society is now putting the finishing touches on it. You can sign up for their Twitter feed at acmovie.

And since we are on the topic, you can sign up for my Twitter feed at leeklancher. I'm mostly Tweeting while on the road, but also am sending out interesting motorcycle news.

Happy new year everyone!!

Self-Assembling GSXR Video

2009-12-13T14:28:00.000-06:00

My cousin forwarded this excellent video to me. The film was made by a 21-year-old film maker from "Tullahoma" who goes by the YouTube handle, "Iamthenoah." Cool stuff.

Friction Zone Review

2009-12-01T12:41:00.000-06:00

Hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving holiday. Mine was a whirlwind tour of friends, family, and eating that happily included some time in one of my favorite man caves, Sam's shed in rural Wisconsin. He has a giant shed (100x50, I believe) that has a small room built inside just for playing cards and talking smart. We did a bit of that, and I hope y'all did the same over the holidays.

Something that really made me feel good this month was this great review of Motorcycle Dream Garages by Kate Edwards in Friction Zone magazine. Edwards really understood the book, and her review pointed out the funky, authentic spaces in the book I love. While all the press for the book has been positive, this review really stands out to me.

Incidentally, the magazine is a great resource, and they will be getting some of my money for a subscription.

PRODUCT REVIEW

Motorcycle Dream Garages

By Kate Edwards
WHEN THE NEW BOOK from moto-journalist Lee Klancher first hit my desk, I have to admit that my heart sank a bit. After all, an arty coffee table book with the title of Motorcycle Dream Garages just seemed to be somehow, well, inappropriate in the current climate of massive job losses and home foreclosures. And the glossy cover shot of a $100,000+ custom bike sitting in front of a beautiful garage that is itself dripping with tasteful appointments and several more glistening two-wheeled doo-dads did little to alleviate my concern. Bluntly speaking, I am just not in the mood for yet another exquisitely illustrated paean to the immaculate tastes of deeply-pocketed mortgage bankers, energy traders, Levittown-developers, and so forth.

Such worries were quickly cast aside once I started thumbing through the book's 192 pages. Pretty moto-cake cover shot aside, Motorcycle Dream Garages is most definitely not Architectural Digest for the dyno set. Yes, several of the places Klancher covers in the book—that tinskinned 'show garage' on the cover surely sets the gold-standard—are drool-inducing examples of the spare-no-expense method of garage design. (And as regards the living quarters over that space-who knew that garage apartment living could ever look so . . . so inviting.) However, once those "Palaces" (as Klancher calls them) are behind us, the book quickly becomes much more than a collection of pretty pictures depicting the sparkly toys of a handful of the well-to-do. Instead, it becomes a fascinating visual treatise on what exactly is meant by the term "dream garage." (Hint: not every dream space has a floor off which one could eat.)

Take, for example, George Hood's place. Well-known as a fabricator without peer in certain circles (and completely unknown to everyone else), Hood runs his business out of a 1960s-era Southern California tract house. As Klancher's photographic essay makes clear (there is text too, but as with the rest of the book, it is the pictures that tell the story), Hood uses practically the whole house for his business. One restoration project sits in the living room, while the covered patio is crammed with lifts and tool benches; the actual garage serves as the machine shop.The welding area is in the back yard, underneath an old satellite dish 'sunbrella,' and everywhere there are mountains of old parts that Hood has come across over the years-including an entire shop's worth that he lucked into when a friend of his went out of business. Hood's 'dream garage' is the kind of place where, as Klancher notes, "[Y]ou could probably build three dozen complete Frankenstein bikes out of the piles of things in Hood's back porch."

While that particular entry in Motorcycle Dream Garages is very much a place of business for its owner (and as such fits nicely into the chapter titled, "The Real Deal"), some places are both more and less than that to their inhabitants. Those types of spaces Klancher labels "Sanctuaries," and here we learn about places of refuge not only for riders, but for bikes as well. There is "Spannerland:" a multi-user garage in deepest, darkest industrial New Jersey. Home to the toys and tools of 11 New York-based riders and collectors, this ultra-secret enterprise houses such goodies as one-of-three-everbuilt Wood-Norton flattrackers, the John Player Norton ridden by David Aldana in the 1974 Daytona 200 (against the likes of Roberts, Agostini, and Romero), as well as a fully enclosed dyno room and an area where one of the owners designs and builds his own parts.

At the other end of the "Sanctuary" spectrum we find Jeffrey Gilbert and "The List." Years ago, this California-based collector compiled a personal list of the most desirable bikes in the world, and then set about getting them for himself. And while one might think that this collector would have a purpose-built structure for his treasures, that is not so. While many of his bikes share space in his cramped three-car garage with a couple of four-wheeled goodies (including a Cobra signed by Carroll Shelby), quite a few are strewn throughout his home like so many metallic Michelangelos and rubberized Rodins. The 1914 Cyclone board track racer (which was lent to the Guggenheim for their 'Art of the Motorcycle' extravaganza) sits in the dining room, the 1957 Moto Guzzi V-8 Mark III backs up the sofa in the family room, and Gilbert's son shares space with a 1962 Honda CR1lO. Like the champion show dog that becomes the family pet, these bikes have finally come home to a nicely prosaic sanctuary after all those years of hard work.

While several of the enterprises illustrated in this book are more about the show than the go (although places like Jay Leno's gorgeous Big Dog Garage with its collection of machines that do get ridden on occasion somehow straddles that line), plenty of space is given to the outfits that are workplaces first and foremost. A prime example in this genre is John's Cycle Center in Woodside, New York.

Begun in the 1950s-and at the same store-front since the 1970s-by three race-mad brothers, this place is your prototypical 'local shop.' Every surface of the smallish shop is covered with parts-some quite vintage as befits a place that has been in business for over 50 years as well as posters, bikes, and the other detritus of a commercially viable obsession. Begun partially as a way to make enough money to keep the owners in gas and tires at the track, it is the kind of place where riders come just to shoot the breeze. About as far as you can get from a multi-brand motorcycle mall, this place works on the bikes "the dealerships won't touch," and, as Klancher puts it, the sole remaining owner is "as busy as he wants to be." Like increasingly rare old-time shops around the country, John's Cycle Center is much more than a motorcycle store-it is virtually a second home for its fans.

Some folks believe that the perfect dream garage is both home and garage. Not surprisingly in light of the wide-range of spaces illustrated here, Klancher includes a stunning example of this design philosophy in the "Takin' Care of Business" chapter. Here we get to see and learn about the design and construction of Mike Tiebold's place in Somerset, Wisconsin. A spectacular 4,200-square-foot space, this building serves as both home, garage, and business place for its owner's aftermarket parts enterprise and was designed on the back of napkins. Clad mostly in tin and brick and with lots of interior glass to help bounce light through the large structure, this place also has a pine-clad living space for its owner that includes a fireplace and other homey touches. In the end, the entire outfit manages to be both spare and warm at the same time—quite a feat.

Motorcycle Dream Garages is a fascinating and beautifully photographed homage to dozens of folks who are obsessed by motorcycles as well as to the spaces they create to house those obsessions. Klancher (along with Kevin Cameron-who wrote the foreword-and collaborators Rick Schunk, Mike Seate, and Kris Palmer) has done an excellent job

illustrating these with his excellent photography. In some of the photos, we can almost smell the grease and feel the grit of the parts-packed spaces. Additionally, Klancher manages to capture the character of his subjects with spare and succinct text that both tells us what drives these people as well as keeps us entertained. (His write-up on the secretive Hollywood fellow with the incredible toy collection is a masterful—and funny—portrait in words.)

In the end, this book certainly deserves a space on the garage bookshelf of anyone who has ever longed for a bigger/better/badder barn for their bikes. And yes, the $35 price tag on this tome might be a bit steep to some in this climate, but just think of it as research or inspiration.

Someday . . . someday . . ..

The Mad Scientists of Beer: Lakefront Brewery

2009-10-25T14:54:00.008-05:00

I recently spent four blissful days touring southern Wisconsin on Victory motorcycles with a couple of good friends, Darrick Anderson and Alyn Silberstein. We spent the evenings of said tour checking out the area's craft breweries, which range from the German precision of New Glarus Brewing Company to the old school genius of Sand Creek Brewing Company in Black River Falls, Wisconsin.

One of the high points of the trip came while visiting Lakefront Brewery in Milwaukee. We stopped in to see Russ and Jim Klisch, the founders and generals of the place. They were happy to talk with us and to make a little time to take some photographs. But their time was limited--a famous bar in Milwaukee was closing, and they didn't want to miss the event. Those are the kind of priorities we respect, so we set up lighting equipment near their uber-cool old school German brewing kettle and made haste with the photographs.

Once the photos were complete, Russ and Jim needed to split. On the way out, they asked us if we wanted to try their beers. Silly question. Yes, of course!

They pointed us to the taps in their bar, suggested we taste all we like, and tell the maintenance to guy to lock up after we leave. Then they left. We had the place to ourselves.

I shot photos of the brewery while Darrick and Al set up the tasting in the cavernous bar. When I came back from shooting, they told me there was a problem.

"Lakefront makes 15 beers," Darrick said. He had all of them lined up on the bar.

We did the right thing. We tasted them all. You'll have to wait for the article for the results of our beer shootout, but we can tell you this: Lakefront's beers are incredible!

(Note: We parked the bikes at the Iron Horse Hotel and bummed rides from the local tourism rep for our brewery tour!)

Watch for the write-up of our entire adventure in the June issue of Motorcycle Cruiser.

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As an aside, if you read and liked Motorcycle Dream Garages, take a few minutes and write a review on Amazon.com.

East Pole Cult of Motorology

2009-10-15T14:48:00.004-05:00

As Motorcycle Dream Garages gets out and about, one of the most interesting things has been what's come back across the transom. One of my favorite things has been this cool video of a garage in Atlanta. Joshua Rosenbaum sent it along, and he and his crew converted the 1958 garage using some of the original owner's vintage equipment along with reclaimed salvage (including a bar built out of church pews). The place houses everything from Ducs and a 100K BMW to vintage Japanese stuff. Cool place, and thanks for writing, Joshua.

East Pole Cult of Motorology from Bill Bounds on Vimeo.

Victory Vision Tour and Vision Ness Edition Shootout Images

2009-10-04T17:17:00.003-05:00

I just came back from a on-the-road test of the Victory Vision Tour and Vision Ness Edition on the alphabet roads in southern Wisconsin. You'll have to wait for the full test to come out in Motorcycle Cruiser magazine, but you can get a sneak peak at the images at my online gallery.

Incidentally, Motorcycle Dream Garages is out on the shelves and rocking the house. Get your copy now, because it appears the first run will be out of stock quickly.

Mission Motors Set Landspeed Record with Electric Motorcycle

2009-09-15T12:13:00.006-05:00

Electric motorcycles are coming our way, and one of the hottest bikes in the segment is the high-performance, high-dollar Mission One. The team just set a land speed record of 150.059 miles per hour at Bonneville.

Keep an eye on this bike. The people putting the Mission One together are an incredibly talented group. Led by former Tesla principal Ed West, the team includes well-placed talent from the motorcycle as well as the software industry. If they pull off what they have in mind, the Mission One is going to be the sexist, most tunable high-performance toy in your garage.

Read more detail about their record-setting pass here.

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Time to Motorcycle Dream Garage Publication: 15 days, 11 hours, 24 minutes.

Free Motorcycle

2009-09-14T09:13:00.002-05:00

My inbox has been brimming with press releases lately. Everyone from Danica Patrick's publicist to whoever promotes National Alpaca Farm Days seems to think e-mail blasts to journos are some kind of magical lifeline to keep their businesses afloat.

Most of the stuff I receive goes into the trash, but this one caught my eye as relevant to dream garage readers. First, Shell's contest includes the possibility that you could win a motorcycle or free gas. Plus Rick, the guy profiled in the release, is just too much. I can see cleaning motorcycle parts in Coke or marinating yourself in Leinenkugel's while working on your bike, but scrubbing a Benz with Perrier? Great that he loves his machinery, but I think he's missing the point. Garages are made to get back to your cave man roots. You can go out there and be your disgusting, overindulging, tool-wielding, beer-swilling, autocratic self. I'd like to take Rick out for a beer and lay it all out for him, you know? Dude, loosen up. Drive more, clean less, and Neanderthal it up a bit. Anyway, here's the release . . . enjoy.

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Time to Motorcycle Dream Garage Publication: 16 days, 14 hours, 46 minutes.

Barn Garage Hangout

2009-09-03T14:06:00.005-05:00

This converted barn is an interesting way to build a man cave (tho I'd hate to pay that heating bill). An old barn would make a perfect dream garage! Note that it was featured in fellow Austinite Sam Martin's book, Manspace.

ManSpace: A Primal Guide to Marking Your Territory

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Time to Motorcycle Dream Garage Publication: 23 days, 9 hours, 12 minutes.

Shooting the Hammer

2009-08-30T22:25:00.000-05:00

671 Press needed two covers for upcoming books, and Robert Pandya, the Victory rep (who resides in Austin, Texas) had the perfect bike for the job in town, a Victory Hammer Eight-Ball. So Robert and his brother Manny and I went out into the hill country to shoot the covers on another hotter-than-blazes August night.

The riding shot was for the cover of Ride America, a collection of tours all across America from the pages of Motorcycle Cruiser, Motorcyclist, and Motorcycle Escape. We wanted a shot that evoked going for a ride, and we felt the over-the-shoulder winding road shot was perfect for that. I had two nice examples in my stock, but one was an extra from a GPS unit shoot and the rider wasn't wearing a helmet, and the other was shot in Hokkaido, Japan so the rider was on the wrong side of the road.

We needed a clean example of the same photo shot on a bike with a classic, attractive dash on a curvy road. Our new shot was taken over the shoulder of Robert, on a stretch of the well-known-in-Austin Fitzhugh Road. I scouted the location beforehand, and found a stretch of road that curved up to the right to draw your eye into opening the book, and curved up and away from the bike at the proper angle.

Robert proved to be an excellent photo pilot. He's an experienced rider and a solid photographer. Shooting from the back can be nerve-wracking, as you have one or both hands on the camera. Robert proved eminently trustworthy, and his experience as a photographer meant he understood where to put the bike for the shot.

The cover for The Perfect Motorcycle by Kevin Dammen needed to evoke finding the motorcycle of your dreams. The book answers that question whether you want a Harley or a sportbike, as it is all about evaluating your needs, means and the market, so the book cover needs an image that suggests an ideal machine that is not emphatically in a category such as a chopper or a sportbike. For that image, we wanted a sunset silhouette of a standard-looking but still cool and exciting bike. The Hammer was perfect--all we needed was a sunset.

The sunset shot turned out to be more challenging than expected, mainly because the sunset shot required a ridge. Such a thing is easy to find in the midwest. Well, the hills can be a little hard to find but an open field or other piece of ground where you can shoot is not a problem.

Central Texas has plenty of hills and ridges, so finding a spot geographically suited to the shot is easy. But the area is mainly private land and almost entirely fenced and locked, so finding an accessible spot is not an easy proposition. We found a little turn-around at the end of a dead-end road that worked for us to shoot this cover. We had to tear down some grass and I set up in a ditch in order to get the angle. Note that Texas ditches are not friendly places. Vegetation here is sharp and spiny!

A bonus was that the chrome reflected light from the sky and gave the bike some definition. My intention was a pure silhouette, with the bike totally blacked out. The shots with the chrome glowing lightly are much more interesting. We have both and won't decide on a final image until the cover is complete and approved.

High-Octane Interior Decorating

2009-08-25T14:14:00.000-05:00

Interior decorating with internal combustion is an admirable trait, and this guy has raised the bar a bit from rebuilding a Chevy V-8 in your living room or "decorating" your house by scattering parts from a KZ1000 restoration project around the place.

Mr. Maserati's only miss is his elevating ramp; part of the joy of engines in the house is the smell of high-test.

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Time to Motorcycle Dream Garage Publication: 36 days, 9 hours, 44 minutes.

Snowbound: Riding 2Moto's Radix Snow-Bike

2009-08-19T12:23:00.001-05:00

Interested in throwing roost in the snow? The guys at 2Moto can fix you up.

The site of the test was Mammoth Mountain ski area in southern California. 2Moto VP of Research and Development Bill King and CEO Mark Maliwauki had brought out a trailer full of RadiX-equipped bikes to test. Former pro rider David Pingree was on hand to try out the machine, and Bill had converted one of Ping’s bikes.

The kit consists of a driven rear track unit in place of the rear wheel, with a ski up front. Most of the riders gathered that day had never been on 2Moto bikes before and the early discussions centered around adapting to the machine. King gave a few pointers on riding the bike to the group, and we took off up the mountain.

While the riders went up the mountain on the bikes, I rode up with the videographers in a snow cat. Photos were the first priority, and I spent about three hours on the mountain photographing the bikes. As I shot, I could see how the riders quickly adapted.

Pingree was visibly more confident within about 10 minutes, throwing it into corners with gusto and leaping off a hump on the ski hill to soar 40 feet down. He later explained that the track-equipped bikes jump well, but you cannot correct much in the air.

We came back for lunch, and then headed back out to go up the hill for more shots and my test ride. As we climbed into the snow cat, I was recruited to ride one of the bikes up. Trial by fire.

I grabbed an EFI RMZ450 and kicked it to life. I let out the clutch and the bike spun the track a bit and snorted up the hill. The oddest sensation is the front ski, which feels just a little nervous, and takes little skips to the side every so often. The sensation reminded me of riding a dirt bike in deep sand, where the front end hunts a bit.

We went straight up several ski hills, and wound through the forest on wide roads and trails. The RadiX was easy to ride straight, and would go up nearly as fast as I was willing to wick it up.

The track does soak up some horsepower, and the normally eyeball-flattening RMZ450 had ample but not awe-inspiring power.

Personally, I found the power output of the 450 four-strokes to be perfect for the machines. They would climb anything, accelerate with authority, and were managable when riding through the trees.

Once we made it to the backside valley where we were testing and photographing the bikes, I was able to take the bike out into the open snow. Turning requires you to lean the motorcycle and turn on the throttle, and it takes a bit to adjust to that. While the ski bites very well, you can’t turn the motorcycle with just the handlebars.

King’s advice was to go out in the snow and lean it over until the handlebar dragged with the throttle on. I found an open meadow and leaned it over with the power on. After a few cuts, you quickly learn to trust that ski. It sticks far better than a wheel. Flick it over, gas it and the bike will cut hard, tight and clean.

Once you learn to turn, the real fun begins. You can snake the bike between the trees in a way that a snowmobiler can only dream about. The 2Moto bike transforms a snowy patch of woods into one giant piece of free-riding singletrack.

One of the most remarkable aspects is how well the machine cuts across sidehills. The ski tracks true, and you simply lean a bit into the hill and the track bites securely.

One of the interesting things about the 2Moto machine is that the ski tracks better than a wheel in ruts. Every time I came to a rutted-up patch of snow, I braced myself for the typical sliding around you experience with a wheel out front. The ski just tracked straight and true through the snow.

Off-road riders also adapt well to the RadiX machines. Former Paris-to-Dakar racer Casey McCoy was on hand at Mammoth for a ride, and we went with him through open slopes and did some bushwacking snaking through the woods. The ability to explore remote areas struck a chord with McCoy.

“I’m not a moto-head. I like to be able to go places I ordinarily don’t go, and this thing does that,” McCoy said. “I’d do this over snowmobiling any day.”

Bill King perhaps summed it up best. “We aren’t selling a product,” King said, “We are building a new powersport.”

To see a few more images of the 2Moto machines in action, check out my Photo Gallery.

Behind the Scenes Feature in Motorcyclist magazine

2009-08-08T15:15:00.000-05:00

Check out the September issue of Motorcyclist magazine for another sneak peak at Dream Garages with my semi-intelligent babble about the book. Brian and Aaron were kind enough to give me several spreads in the mag, so buy six copies and reward their efforts!

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Time to Motorcycle Dream Garage Publication: 67 days, 11 hours, 30 minutes.

MDG on Speed

2009-07-25T14:02:00.007-05:00

This is cool. Motorcycle Dream Garage was put up next to an entertaining write-up on Speed TV's web site. I wonder if this means I can influence them enough to show more live motorcycle racing, dump Pinks, and have Dave Despain cover more two-wheeled riders and events???? Probably not . . .

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Time to Motorcycle Dream Garage Publication: 76 days, 12 hours, 39 minutes.

The Riding Man at Jay's Garage

2009-07-23T07:54:00.005-05:00

Jay Leno's Garage is an incredible place. His collection is amazing and he has great taste in vehicles. He also drives pretty much every day, and has great video-heavy Web site.

Motorcycle racer and writer Mark Gardiner stopped in at Jay's place to talk about riding the Isle of Mann as well as his book about racing, Riding Man.

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Time to Motorcycle Dream Garage Publication: 83 days, 15 hours, 47 minutes.

A Sneak Peak at Motorcycle Dream Garages

2009-07-15T11:42:00.006-05:00

The people at DreamGarages.com have a short excerpt from the book up on the site. You'll get a sneak peak into John Hateley's garage. Hateley is also the topic of an upcoming feature article in Motorcyclist magazine in which John and some of his stunt man buddies tell stories about their work making feature films.

Pop-Up Dream Lamborghini Garage

2009-07-11T13:48:00.006-05:00

Living with my new one-car garage in Austin has me on a quest to maximize space. This YouTube video is spinning my gears. Could a guy like me build one of these?

Time to Motorcycle Dream Garage Publication: 95 days, 9 hours, 29 minutes.

Publisher's Weekly Listing

2009-07-10T12:16:00.004-05:00

As the countdown to the October 15th release date of Motorcycle Dream Garages draws near, the pre-publication activities have begun. Some of the most highly sought-after press coverage is in Publisher's Weekly, the trade magazine of the book industry. The magazine is highly respected, widely-read by booksellers as well as publishers, and costs nearly $200 per year for a subscription. Motorcycle Dream Garages was mentioned in the fall book preview done for the June 29th issue:

"Motorcycle Dream Garages (Oct., $35) by Lee Klancher opens the doors to places where bikes are repaired and friendships are made of beer, b.s. and bruised knuckles."

I believe I owe the book's publicist, Nichole, one of my favorite malt beverages for using the entirely appropriate beer & B.S. line!

Cheers,
Lee

Time to book launch: 96 days, 11 hours, 21 minutes.

Motorcycle Dream Garage Update

2009-01-12T11:16:00.007-06:00

A quick update from my new home base in Austin, Texas. Motorbooks just put together the cover for my upcoming book, Motorcycle Dream Garages. I created a photo gallery and a Web site for the book for people to check out. Note that the photo gallery received more than 250,000 page views since October 2008. Crazy.

Speaking of crazy, I'm trying to get a handle on life in the Great State of Texas by finding a little wacky news that reminds me of my own very wacky home state of Wisconsin. This morning's gem is news that the Anti-Christ is alive, well, and living in Houston.

This puts an entirely different spin on our upcoming weekend visit to Tim and Kristin, who happen to live in a Houston suburb!

New Web Site

2008-11-15T11:08:00.002-06:00

A new Web site is up for my book, The Farmall Dynasty. Peter Bodensteiner made a YouTube video of me talking about the book and how I came to write about the topic, and you'll also find a photo gallery of my images. Check it out!

Web Galleries

2008-10-29T08:38:00.004-05:00

So I'm using SmugMug to allow people to buy prints of my images. I've had a lot of requests for this over the years, and when I discovered the service (which is very slick), I gave it a shot.

I have a few SmugMug galleries up right now. One is a few photos from my Slovenia adventure last fall, two others are old farm tractor photos, and one is a gallery of photographs for my upcoming book, Motorcycle Dream Garages.

The Dream Garages gallery has gone crazy. It had 5,000 hits in the first few weeks, which I thought was crazy. I posted a link to the gallery on two of my favorite Web sites, AdvRider (for motorcycle adventure nuts) and Garage Journal (for people into garages). I've had a few responses to those posts, and the numbers have gone stratospheric.

But the number of hits on the photo site is completely out-of-control. The site more than 40,000 hits in the last 24 hours, and shot up to more than 100,000 hits in the first week.

What gives????

Overhead in the Emergency Room at Midnight . . .

2008-10-27T21:20:00.000-05:00

So I was sitting in the emergency room at just after midnight one night a few months ago (all I have to say about that is Joan will NEVER eat clams again), and two guys walked in. Both looked like contractors who went out for a drink after knocking off at 2 in the afternoon and stayed out three drinks too long. They wore jeans, work boots, and t-shirts. The 30ish men were jocular and appeared to have all limbs attached with no blood-spurting injuries, which is not what you'd expect from contractors who walk into the emergency room at midnight on Saturday night. One appeared to have a hole in the front of his pants, near his most private area.

They walked up to the young woman at the desk to fill out the admission form. The Hole-in-the-Pants Guy wrote a few lines on the form, presumably his name and such. And then I assume he came to the line entitled, "Reason for Visit."

He paused, and then turned to his buddy.

"I don't even want to write that down," he said.

His friend thought for a few seconds.

"Just put 'groin problem,'" he suggested.

Midnight emergency room visits on a Saturday night are never welcome, but this one seemed a whole lot more tolerable after I heard that line.

Book News

2008-10-25T10:05:00.004-05:00

I have a new book out! The book came about mainly because my out-of-print book, International Harvester Photographic History has become an expensive item used. Plus I wrote WAY too much text for the original book—something like 40,000 words more than the word count specified by the publisher. It's a great text, and the few copies of the book available are selling for between $40 and $100.

So I have taken that admittedly overdone text and combined it with some great archival photographs as well as a few new ones to create The Farmall Dynasty. The book is an all-new design and layout, and it now includes the complete history of Farmall from after the Case-IH merger to today. I also updated the sidebars, wrote new leads, and edited the entire book.

Plus I'm the publisher, which is an exciting change after so many years working as an author and editor. Fifteen books sold in the first few days and I can hardly sit still I'm so charged up.

Purchase the book.

(Hint: A case of 50 of them would make a unique coffee table).

THE PBE

2008-10-24T21:42:00.003-05:00

My brother-in-law Tom loves food adventures. He has flown to Memphis to become a barbecue judge, spent a weekend in Shreveport for Mudbug Madness (a crayfish festival), and has oysters flown to him for holidays.

Like my uncle Pat, his love of food makes him a great cook. Both men, now that I think about it, have a way with what Homer Simpson called "the magical animal." (Not THAT way, as far as I know.)

One of Tom's dreamed-up food adventures was to cook Homer's favorite animal luau-style. That's to say, digging a hole, making a big fire in it, pitching a whole pig (dead) on top, and covering the thing up for the day to let it cook.

Last February, Tom had conned myself and my family into doing the deed up at our family cabin in rural Wisconsin. After talking with Tom about the roast during a family dinner in February, I excitedly asked my sister, Wendy, what she thought about the Pig Burying Event. She wouldn't even acknowledge I spoke to her. She just kept walking out to the car without dignifying the comment with so much as a roll of her eyes. Clearly, this had been a topic that Tom had perhaps discussed beyond my sister's capacity for pretending to be interested.

Wendy's response matched that of most of the respectable women I know (an admittedly short list). My then-new girlfriend, Joan (one of the other respectable women I know) was equally unimpressed.

"Sounds DISGUSTING," she said.

That settled it. This was going to be a guy's weekend. A time to drink beer, play bocce, and eat lots of pig. Calendars were consulted and July 19 was the date.

I loved the idea, and began to try drum up some bodies to help eat a whole pig. When asked what I was doing that weekend, I would say, "I'm going to bury a pig and eat it. Want to come?" Surprisingly, very few accepted the invitation.

So I tried to better hone my patter.

"We are cooking a pig man-style. Would you like to join us?"

The typical response was a cheap shot about my abilities to pull off the feat. So I gave up trying to drum up supporters and had fun with it. I began to refer to the event as the Pig Burying Event.

A few weeks before the PBE, Tom sent out an e-mail describing all the things we'd need. The list included sheets of plywood, twine, chicken wire, banana leaves, apple cider, 20 head-sized round rocks, apples, garlic, salt, pepper, a meat thermometer that could buried, a whole pig (dead) and lots of beer. I bought the pig from my local butcher, uncle Pat dug the hole with his tractor, and Tom found the rest.

The day arrived, and Tom and my Dad were up at 5 am building the fire. I rolled out of bed, well, later than that but just in time for the rock-throwing event. Now that I think about it, most really enjoyable activities involve rocks. Seriously. The list of good things that involve rocks includes dirt biking, rock-skipping, mountain climbing, mountain biking, and beer-drinking (which is often done on rock ledges, outcroppings, crushed rock driveways, and so on). Well, maybe I'm reaching on that. But rocks are good fun, of that I'm sure.

Anyway.

Before you can throw the rocks in the fire, it has to be really really really hot. Like hotter than the sun (I think). We didn't have a thermometer, so once the fire appeared to have reached solar power, we threw the rocks in. With gusto. In fact, we threw all the rocks in the pit just for good measure.

The fire went out.

Lots of thinking and discussion ensued. Or at least some did. After about 15 seconds of careful consideration, we took all the rocks out of the fire pit. With shovels. And then with our hands. The fire had not been quite solar-hot. More like stove-top hot. Or even slightly lukewarm-hot.

We restoked the fire and got it really really hot, and put the rocks in about 20 minutes later. This time, we put them on the EDGE of the flames and the fire kept burning.

According to what we knew, the rocks needed to become white-hot. Our method got them maybe gray-hot. But we had hot rocks, a dead pig, and lots of beer. How could we go wrong?

While the rocks heated, the pig was prepped. It was rubbed with salt. Garlic cloves were inserted into cuts in the skin, and the carcass was lined with banana leaves. A temperature probe was inserted in the rear haunch, with the lead left loose to be attached after the pig was buried. Hot rocks were carefully placed inside the carcass, which was then closed up and wrapped in apple cider-soaked burlap. The final step was to wrap the pig in chicken wire, which is used to hold it together and put it in and lift it out of the pit.

Next a sheet of tin was placed over the smoldering fire and hot rocks. Another sheet of tin goes over that, and then a piece of fiber board goes on top of that. We covered the fiber board with dirt, and then the hard work began.

We had to set up an awning, drag out lawn chairs, and find the bocce set. This wasn't easy, believe me. The awning came in a tiny little box and had maybe 7 million parts to put together. We had to get my aunt Kay to help and after lots of thinking and reconfiguring, the awning was up and looked like a saggier version of the picture on the box it came in.

Finding the bocce set was another challenge that led to some panic. You can't serve pork without bocce. It's un-American, or at least not much fun. We found the bocce set buried underneath Christmas decorations in my uncle's cabin.

We prevailed. Meaning we opened beers.

Every hour or so, we'd check the temperature of the meat and then break to play bocce, drink beer, or maybe both. The temperature was monitored carefully and my Dad proved that math teachers never truly retire by recording the temperatures and then drawing a graph showing the projected temperature of the pig at 6 pm.

In the end, the gray-hot rocks proved to be not quite enough heat. We were shooting for a final temp of 170 or so, and only reached the high 150s. That was enough to kill botulism and any other dangerous things that live in dead pigs, or so we surmised. Plus it was late and we had 20 people to feed.

We didn't expect that many, but my friend Sam had flown in a group of cleanly scrubbed college-age rowers to stay at his Dad's cabin (which is a short potato cannon shot away from my family's cabin). Why they were there is too complex to explain, suffice it to say that Sam is always dragging people who should know better to redneck places. And trying to get them to do shots with him down at the tavern.

He's also the guy who forced his wife to come up with an entirely new guest list for their New Year's Eve party by drinking an entire bottle of Maker's Mark and then explaining to the deacon's wife the meaning of the word "MILF."

So these college kids had no idea what they were in for. But by the time we were unveiling the pig, they were getting an idea.

Anyway, we carried the pig up to the garage, cut off the chicken wire, and unwrapped it. The smells were magical enough to do justice to Homer's favorite animal. The skin was very, ummm, white and not terribly appetizing, but the meat underneath was succulent.

Gloves were donned, and the process of stripping the meat off the pig began. Actually, feeding the masses also began, as the entire crew crowded around the pig and began eating pieces of the animal. People were stuffing giant slabs of pork into their mouthes, feeding like a wolf pack on a fresh kill. It was the most carnivorous experience of my life (with the possible exception of eating a freshly-grilled freshly-killed cow in Bolivia, which I'm still convinced was some kind of skinny mule because it was so lean and it tasted like ass so it doesn't count).

Pat came up with the idea of just passing out plates and letting people serve themselves, which we did, and 20 hungry people were fed with enough left over to feed most of the township (maybe another 25 people--it's a pretty remote township).

Noone got botulism or died, the college kids didn't appear permanently scarred by the event, and we drank all the beer.

Success!

Plumbing at 9 pm is a bad idea . . .

2008-09-02T22:01:00.004-05:00

Trust me on this. Don't do plumbing in the evening. It's a Bad Idea. One of those Bad Ideas like Running With Scissors and Taking Explosives on the Plane.

How do I know this? Funny you should ask. You see, I'm very excited about working on my little house. I've been thinking about doing this stuff for years. And now I'm finally making this little place right. I don't even care that I'm going to sell it. The act in and of itself is a good thing. Like finally getting in shape, eating right, jumping out of an airplane, or doing whatever it is you've been wanting to do for a long time and just didn't quite find the time.

So I've spent all day working on deadlines. I made a list this morning of what needed to be done to keep the Editors at bay. The list looked very doable, like I could finish it by 2 pm. All my lists look doable, now that I think of it.

Finishing the list took longer than expected, partially because I found this cool new software and started correcting photos that I shot with my 15mm lens and looked like I shot them through a funhouse mirror. Which was cool, even though in the back of my mind I was thinking about getting to work on my basement. I was particularly excited to move some plumbing and make the laundry area decent instead of so disgusting it made you want to throw up. I've been hating that laundry area for EIGHT years and tonight was the night to fix it. So I really wanted to get my work done.

Somehow surprisingly it was 7 pm by the time I finished my 2 pm list. And then Craig, my neighbor stopped by. I made him help me move the dryer and washer and then he mumbled something about having to go clean his house and bolted. He could tell I was going to work on that gross basement. I don't blame him.

So at 7:30 I started the clean-up. My plan was to clean, pour concrete, and plumb. And I DID clean. It was pretty gross down there. I'm covered in cobwebs. The floor was FILTHY. I swept it and had a coughing fit.

Then I put all the debris in a garbage bag but couldn't find my contractor bags so I used the Super Steel ones which are not strong. At all.

And when I went to carry that bag full of stuff from the floor like dust, dirt, pens, cat toys, splinters from 2x4s, and some little chunks of concrete, guess what happened? Yeah, and it did while I was halfway up the stairs.

So I cleaned that up and went and found my contractor bags and bagged all that stuff up again. Took it out to the curb for the garbage man to deal with tomorrow (and probably overcharge me for that).

After THAT, I was looking at my plumbing lines and thinking about how badly I wanted to move them so the washer sat nicely. I couldn't stand it--I really wanted that washer moved, even if I only used it three times before someone else bought the house.

I had the shut-off valves. I had a hacksaw. All I had to do was drain the water out of the system, cut the pipes, and install the valves.

You see, whoever plumbed the washer didn't put in any shut-off valves. The only way to shut off the water to the washer is to shut off the water to the whole house. You see where this is headed . . .

So I drained the water and took my hacksaw and cut off the cold water pipe. Next step--install the shut-off valves. They were compression valves, meaning you just slid the nut and the collar over the pipe and tighten them up. Easy as pie.

Well, the collar and the nut didn't fit. They were too loose. I had the wrong size valves.

Happily, Menard's is open until 10. So I went down there to get the right parts.

I went to the plumbing section looking for valves that fit over my pipe. I even cut off a piece of it so I would know if I had the right valve.

And it took 30 minutes and three sales people, but I did get the right valves. And bought a laundry tub, t-fittings, and some copper pipe as well. AND a pipe cutter.

So I came home and installed the shut-off valve, which took like 20 seconds. I turned the water on and it didn't even leak.

Amazing.

And it was only 9:30. I didn't want to quit. So I mixed some concrete. The funny thing is, when I turned the water on the faucet in the basement, water sprayed out of the cut-off tube. The tube was pointing directly at my head, as luck would have it.

And the concrete, which had been sitting in my basement since, oh, 2004, had turned into concrete. What I mean to say is it was no longer the powdered stuff. It was the real stuff.

Which didn't stop me from trying to mix it with water and pour it.

The concrete is now out in my back yard, and I'm upstairs drinking beer and contemplating what I've learned tonight. Which is that plumbing at 9 pm is a bad idea.

The Home Front

2008-08-23T18:06:00.007-05:00

I have been working on things other than my usual gig of writing about and photographing garages, motorcycles, and other guy-stuff (which is what an editor I met with at the ASJA conference dubbed my niche, "Oh," she said as her eyes glazed over disappointedly, "You write about guy stuff").

Right now, the task in front of me is getting my little home in Oakdale up to snuff. So I'm painting, landscaping, and doing all the other things you tell yourself you are going to do when you buy a house and never do until you are thinking about selling the place.

So I'm chronicling that with what I'm calling my Home Improvement Photojournal. I'll be posting progress on the house regularly throughout the process, and you can even subscribe via RSS feed if you go here. And, yes, this also means that friends, family, and neighbors can take this as a good reason to avoid visits (as they are likely as not to end helping me move, paint, or build something) OR they can take into the account the fact that I have about three cases of beer chilling in my garage fridge that I'll happily part with in exchange for a few minutes of labor.

This process began when I bought this little 1953-built house in 2000, thinking I would remodel the house in order to take advantage of a beautiful lot. I did some work over eight years, painting a couple of rooms, adding some new flooring, and doing some remodeling that I thought was lovely but was in fact, well, NOT. And time slipped away, as I have a way of finding better things to do than remodel, like foreign travel assignments, riding motorcycles, building a garage BIGGER than my house, rambling blogs, racquetball matches, nights out on the town with friends, or (when things get really desperate) watching episode after episode of Firefly or old Sanford and Son reruns. So now I'm busting my butt on the place. Such is life!

Kelowna, British Columbia

2008-08-14T14:01:00.015-05:00

I just returned from a trip out west that culminated in a shoot for my upcoming book, Motorcycle Dream Garages. I found the garage on my friend Sam Martin's Manspace book blog, and discovered an amazing garage as well as a gorgeous corner of the world.

The garage is the creation of Geby Wager, the developer behind Woodland Hills who also happens to be a gearhead and all-around regular guy. His homes feature incredible views, amazing outdoor spaces, and optional gearhead garages that are out of this world.

Geby and his homes are in Kelowna, British Columbia, which is Canada’s premier wine country. Think of it as Napa Valley combined with Lake Tahoe. The area has hundreds of wineries located on the 92-mile-long Lake Okanagon, about 3 hours north and east of Vancouver. The lake has terrific beaches, and the mountains above the lake have great skiing in the winter and incredible mountain biking, hiking and fishing in the summer.

One of Kelowna’s residents happens to be custom motorcycle builder Roger Goldhammer, and he brought out a couple of his stunning creations for the shoot. Goldhammer’s bikes are a rare combination of function and style, and his latest creation just returned from winning the world championships. The supercharged, fuel-injected bike also set a land speed record at Bonneville last fall. Roger couldn't have been more gracious and modest, by the way.

In addition to the Goldhammer bikes, a number of other local riders brought customs and sport bikes out as well. Everyone pitched in to help move bikes, set up the garage, and arrange lighting for the shoot. Honestly, I couldn't have made the images without a ton of help, and thanks are due to everyone who showed up. Extra kudos go to the guys who hauled in bikes, and to Stefanie Giddens and Patti Cook from Woodland Hills, as well as my lighting assistant, Kathrine Gountas.

Oh, and Geby also runs Creative Motorsports, a company that builds custom-built trucks that are $100,000 independently-suspended engineering marvels capable of hard-core rock climbing as well as getting the groceries. And (of course) the first one of these Geby built won Four-Wheeler magazine's Top Truck Challenge in 1997.

Visiting Kelowna was an entirely surreal experience, as I simply didn't know much about the area and found a stunningly beautiful place populated by modest people doing incredible things.

I'll be back!

Coffee and Radio Daze

2008-07-25T11:54:00.001-05:00

It's been a while since I posted, so I'm taking a few minutes to write. I'm working at my favorite coffee shop in St. Paul, The Black Dog Café. It’s a funky contrast to the younger, hipper Spyhouse Coffee shop I was in yesterday.

As I sat down today, I was happily struck by the fact that it takes very little for my business to come with me these days. Wireless, a power outlet, and coffee do the trick. Add a chocolate and macadamia nut cookie and you have found freelancer Nirvana.

But I digress.

The point is an update. What’s happening with me? Well, I’m working like a dog on my house. A lot is happening there, mainly because my neighbor, Jake, is a hard-working kid looking to make a buck to keep his hot-rod Civic on the road. The Klancher pad is looking up!

On the wrting front, things are happening as well. I’ve been doing radio interviews for How To Build Your Dream Garage, and had a good time talking garages with Joe Prin at 580am in Idaho and Bob Long at Motor Trend Radio. You can find the Motor Trend Radio podcast on iTunes, by the way. The episode before mine features a friend of mine, Hollywood car builder and inventor Eddie Paul. Check it out if you get a chance.

I have an interview with Bob Strong aka Handyman Bob on his show Around the House coming up on Saturday, July 26 at 1:00 p.m. PST.

I have a short (VERY short) piece and a small photo that ran in Men’s Journal this month. Check out page 34. Working with them was a pleasure—they are professional, hard-working and pay well and promptly.

On a fun note, my friend Stephen Regenold (The Gear Junkie) did a piece entitled, The World’s Scariest Roads for Travel and Leisure.com, and wrote about my adventures riding the Wilderness Road in the Bolivian Amazon and Brazil's Graciosa Trail.

The Moon Over Galveston

2008-05-25T13:57:00.004-05:00

I returned to Galveston for the first time since college, and it was a great break. This photo is of one of the breakwaters under a nearly full moon. The light on the rocks was cast by the streetlights and neon on the strip.

Back to deadlines . . . enjoy the pic!

The Trucks of Austin

2008-05-01T22:03:00.015-05:00

Texas is all about trucks. Even in the liberal oasis that is Austin, everyone's driving one, and the best carry the patina of decades of hard work. I photographed a few of them while in Austin, went for a ride in a Pinzgauer four-wheel-drive that was used by the Swiss Army (what exactly do Swiss military people do, anyway?), and drove a 1948 Ford 1-ton around a back pasture north of Dallas. So I thought a few photos might be fun for the blog.

Some of these were trucks I found on the block while walking the dog, while others are old workhorses abandoned in the back yards of the owners of tractors I was photographing for my calendars.

A favorite of mine was the Waterloo Brewing Truck, which Joan and Bosco found just down the block. The owner's son was washing it one day as we walked past, and I stopped just long enough to find out the owner used to run the Waterloo Brewery, and the truck served time delivering beer around Austin. The gas tank consisted of a plastic can and a hose. The only drawback? That gem of a truck wasn't for sale!

Spring Skiing, Mushroom Steak and a New Web Site!

2008-04-18T15:22:00.013-05:00

Yikes, I'm a little behind on the blog. Busy times for yours truly. I did manage to get a new Web site up and running. The tech challenges were nearly beyond my skills, simply because finding settings on some of the hosting sites is a bit tricky. And there was a bit of a panic when I typed in Leeklancher.com--a domain I thought I had purchased--and found what looked to be a British Leek retailer. All turned out well, and I have a servicable site up and running. Check it out at Leeklancher.com.

I also have an entry I meant to post but kept getting sidetracked by deadlines and other projects that actually pay the bills. Anyway, I traveled down to Austin early this month. The day before I left, the Minneapolis-St. Paul area was hit with about five inches of heavy, wet snow. I woke up bright and early the morning I was supposed to leave and went out for a sunrise ski down at Lake Elmo State Park not far from my house. It was beautiful and a bit of a Aldo Leopold morning, as geese, pheasant, cranes, and ducks kept me company on the 5-mile ski.

I had a business meeting that morning, and then was off to the airport. That night, I was greeted in Austin by a steak dinner out on Joan's porch. The weather was a balmy 70 degrees--a perfect night to sit out among the now very-green and summery-to-a-northerner Texas weather! And the steak was the Best Steak on Earth (seriously).

Stay tuned for my take on the ups and downs of working the freelance gig 1,000 miles from my office, as well as a tour of Texas trucks!

Handcrafted Places

2008-03-19T17:42:00.003-05:00

I've been writing a narrative book with Michael Kranefuss about his career in racing. I'm learning the magnitude of the challenge of creating a good biography, an enjoyable task that also happens to be a helluva lot of work.

The cool news last week is my dad finished a desk he built for me. We picked out plans online, and Dad went to town putting it together. He's become quite a craftsman, and the results are gorgeous. He's also incredibly productive--we bought the plans about six weeks ago, and he has it complete! Don't get in the way when my old man is on a project--things happen quickly!

One of the joys of the freelance life is spending my days working on a desk that was made with my father's hands. Some days, it's the simple things that make working as an independent contractor worthwhile.

A Cold Day's Inspiration

2008-02-22T20:37:00.016-06:00

Well, it's been cold and clear here the past few days, and the weather reminded me of cold night spent sleeping in a yurt on a mountain pass above Leadville, Colorado this past December.

I decided to celebrate the end of the year by getting the hell out of dodge and going to Colorado. My good friend Peter Peil and I booked a yurt from Leadville Backcountry in late December. This would be my first trip to Colorado all year long, which is some kind of record as I usually make it out there at least twice a year!

This turned out to be a great decision for a number of reasons. I spent a great afternoon hanging out with Mike, an old friend from MBI who I hadn't seen in much too long, and my research assistant, Kathy, met me at Mike's so we could head up to Leadville and then trek to the hut.

We drove to Leadville and met Peter Peil, a good friend of mine who just happens to be from the same area in Wisconsin and also happens to share my love of the outdoors and crazy motorcycle vacations. The three of us set off to go up to the hut in bright sun with packs full of food, sleeping bags, and wine on our backs.

The hike up to the hut is about six miles, plenty of that running straight up the hill. I brought snow shoes, while Peter and Kathy skied. The snow was packed hard, and my snow shoes quickly came off and I walked up in hiking boots. I have to admit, I had forgotten how much work it is carrying a 30-pound (light, I know) pack up a snowy mountain trail, and I was struggling for the first couple of miles.

But I settled in, and was boosted by the fact that Peter and Kathy are great outdoors companions--both are very upbeat people who like to laugh and joke around.

The second half of the hike is the steepest, and was the most difficult part of the day. We were all moving slowly but steadily . . . well, Pete and I were, while Kathy ran up ahead!

Near the top, you come to a little broken-down cabin that breaks out into the pass. Kathy had been going ahead of Pete and I, and was sitting under the one tree by the cabin and shared her frozen rock-solid Snicker's bar with us. We only had a 1/3-mile left to go, and all were up and optimistic. That last 1/3 mile was brutal, as the snow was deep, the path is very steep, and the yurts are out in the open so the wind is just vicious.

The real temperature, by the way, was -18, and the wind had to be blowing at better than 20 mph. I don't think I want to know what the wind chill was!

It took a long 30-40 minutes to climb that last 1/3 mile and we were exhausted when we got in. We made a fire inside the yurt, as it was COLD in there (zero as I recall). We huddled around the woodstove in our little yurt, took off wet clothes, and drank hot tea. It took about two hours for the yurt to warm up to 50 degrees or so, and then we made supper, told stories, and drank all of the wine.

The next morning we had to go back down the mountain, and it was a long, hard trek. The wind was blowing very hard, and snow was coming down--it was a blizzard! The first section was all downhill and no problem, but the last section had a very long gradual uphill that was rugged. I was wiped out when we made the car, and we were pretty glad to go back to Peter's house. We went out for burgers and then watched a movie (or Peter and Kathy watched a movie--I fell asleep!).

That wasn't the end of the Colorado adventure. I spent New Year's Eve seeing an old friend, Joan, who was staying with friends in a condo at the Keystone ski area.

The blizzard we walked through to get down off the mountain was part of a huge storm that hammered Colorado, and by the time we had settled in and were watching our movie at Pete's place, Interstate 70 was closed! We were concerned we wouldn't be able to make it over to Keystone, but fate was good to us and the ONLY roads open near Leadville were a short piece of I-70 and Hwy 91. Those two roads led to Keystone. We made it there. When we exited off 70 at Silverthorne, the freeway was closed from traffic going further and a long line of cars were sitting there, waiting for the interstate to open up again.

Joan had just come off the hill when we arrived, and it was COLD on the hill. We went back out and the skiing was still a little cold but the lift lines were short and it was awesome skiing. Conditions were nearly perfect on New Year's Day. In fact, New Year's Day was a Perfect Day in general, and included skiing, swimming, good wine, and a great fondue meal at the top of Keystone (you have to ride two gondolas to get up to the restaurant).

I was reminded how much I love Colorado by the trip, and can't wait to get back out there!

On the Bookshelves Soon

2008-02-19T08:17:00.012-06:00

Well, I've been busy the past few months and have been bad about posting, so I'm catching things up to get back on my regular schedule of semi-monthly posts about my journey into the freelance world.

I've been buried in more office work than travel, and I completed two books calendars during this past four months. I'll schedule a little more carefully next year--trust me on this point.

The first is How to Build a Dream Garage (MBI, June 2008) which came about because I built the garage office I'm sitting in this morning back in 2004. When I do a project of just about any kind, I like to read about it (surprise, surprise), and I couldn't find a book that outlined the practical challenges you face when contracting and building a garage. I felt a book that did that would be worthwhile, and the guys at MBI agreed, so this book resulted. One of the best features came naturally--I'm a cheapskate, and the book has lots of tips and step-by-step projects readers can do to save some dough. Editor Dennis Pernu, graphic designer Anne Ulku, and layout wizard Chris Fayers did a great job making the book read well and look great. Watch for it in June.

The second is a little photographic brick, Farm Tractor Classics (MBI, September 2008), which is a new book package for MBI that is a small trim-size 400-page package that is a great showcase for the photography in the book (my own as well as others). Editor and ex-work-wife Leah Noel did a nice job with the editing, and I'll be seeing the layout for that in the next few weeks. The best part of that process was digging into history, and trying to work just a few tidbits of agricultural history into a book for farm tractor fans.

The calendars are Vintage Farm Tractors 2009 and Farmall Tractors 2009. Photographing these calendars is always a challenge that I enjoy, and this year's batch was no exception. Highlights include the Lyle Johnson night shoot mentioned previously in my blog; another evening shoot with Ranier's John Coffee in which we lit his Cub with table lamps; Joe Hickman's photogenic barn cat which couldn't seem to stay out of a shoot in southern Minnesota (and yes, made the calendar); discovering that Dave Preuhs' love of rare early 1900s Hart-Parrs accidentally set up he and his wife with a retirement fund; and photographing the collection of Dave Lulich, the world's highest-energy shop teacher (he does a half-dozen restorations a year in his "spare" time). I also learned about the game of buying old iron overseas from Mike Schmudlach and spent an early morning laughing and swapping stories about life, politics, and our mutual friend Roger Welsch with outgoing businessman turned part-time farmer Verne Houlobek.

Some days, I'm amazed I actually get paid to do this job.

A Cold Night in Rushford

2007-12-20T16:40:00.001-06:00

One of the things I've been wanting to try out is shooting a farm tractor at night. I have a number of ideas for shots that would work well for my calendars, none of which I've been able to try yet, but did come across an opportunity to test the lighting equipment with Lyle Johnson's nicely restored 706 down in Rushford, Minnesota.

A cloudy night meant the shot I had in mind wasn't possible, but Lyle had some Xmas lights in front of his place so I thought I could at least use the equipment I brought along to create a semi-cheesey Xmas shot. I unloaded three 1,000-watt Tungsten lights, a Honda generator, and about 60 feet of extension cords and set those up to light the machine. I did that at dusk, and then killed an hour in Lyle's shed drinking diet Mountain Dew and swapping stories (the most interesting of which was hearing about the Rushford flood, which came right to Lyle's back door and has left much of the town trashed and without flood insurance).

When we went back outside, the sun had been down for 30 minutes or so and the temperature had plummeted to well below zero, mostly because the wind was gusting at 20+ mph. The wind was knocking over stands, and one of the lights was blown out before we even had a chance to fire it up. Lyle brought out some iron bars to weight the stands, which solved the problem, and two lights provided plenty of light (to my surprise).

The shot that resulted is fun, but I'll do the next shot with lights that have barn doors so I can cut down on the light spilling around my subject (the machine). Also, this background is not ideal, as the tree is distracting and the snow was all beat to hell. With more controllable light and cleaner backgrounds, I can use this equipment to create some pretty interesting images.

Oh, and I also managed to nail a tractor pan-blur. I've been shooting them for fun when I do calendar shots, and they are really tricky because tractors move so slowly. You have to use a long shutter speed and pan the camera perfectly to keep the subject sharp. I hit the one below right on the money!

The Road

2007-11-13T18:59:00.000-06:00

After a month of buckling down and finishing a book manuscript, I found myself back out on the road yesterday, traveling about 70 miles north to lovely Kimball, Minnesota to photograph some nicely restored Minneapolis-Moline tractors.

I found the road--even that godawful stretch of strip malls and corn fields inbetween Minneapolis and St. Cloud--was a welcome thing. There's something about even an hour spent with the wheel in your hand that clears out the mind. In this case, add in a break in the clouds that brought good light and a freshly plowed field to give me a little something to work with for the images, and the road was an elixir for the soul.

I also had the good fortune to spend some time with Ron Becker, the owner of said farm tractors, who had immaculately restored the tractor his dad bought new in 1951 and used on the family farm until the 1980s.

"It was tired," he said with a laugh, "That tractor worked hard for 30 years."

He also told me that he had the "world's largest collection of Minneapolis-Moline garden tractors." He had a lot of them. There were at least 20 in his shed, and he had another shed at his home place that he said was full of more. Odds are good that he's right, and he does have the world's largest collection.

Never know what you'll find on the road.

Slovenia: Piran

2007-10-02T08:39:00.000-05:00

Piran is a historic town on Slovenia's Mediterranean coast, and is one of my favorite places from the trip. My sister, Wendy, and her husband, Tom, discovered the town on a previous trip, and we all gathered there for a few days. The town has a rich cultural heritage, with narrow streets and ancient, gorgeous architecture.

I spent a couple of days there--one night and morning visiting with family, and another couple of evenings on an assignment. The first morning, I woke up early and wandered the main square taking photos. The sun was coming up behind the town, and lit the clouds with an eerie blue light. The town at the hour had a quiet urgency, with a smattering of shopkeepers, fisherman, and commuters on the move in the dark, salty air.

The town is small, old, and the Mediterranean air is wonderful. I also really enjoyed Tom's observations. He loved to measure the town's rhythms and take in the ebb and flow of life from his seaside balcony. He knew which fisherman would go by at what time, when the kids would come out for swimming lessons, and when the markets would open and sell him some pastries. My sister Wendy also had her finger on the pulse of the town, and she found two stray cats that she would feed every morning.

Deadlines beckon, so these images will have to suffice today!

Slovenia: Savna Pec

2007-09-23T13:18:00.000-05:00

I've been away for a bit, as the past three weeks were spent in Slovenia. The trip has been by far the best of the year, and one of the best of my life.

The trip began in Zagreb, where I gathered with my sisters, father and his wife. After an entertaining day in Zagreb, we headed into Slovenia to visit our relatives, the Mejac family, in Savna Pec, a tiny cluster of farms not far from Hrastnik. We spent three days there visiting, hiking around the farm, and eating (and then eating some more). We saw the home our great-grandfather, Miha, was born in.

Seeing where you come from is such a powerful experience. The mountain near Savna Pec is evocative of Middle Mound, the hill my grandfather spent his life near. The faces are familiar, and the potica, strukla, and smiles all reminded me of those I've seen in Willard, Wisconsin (my Dad's home town) my entire life.

The Bridge

2007-08-02T08:12:00.000-05:00

As most of the world knows, the bridge over 35W collapsed last night. My neighbor, Craig, told me when he stopped by on the way to go out to dinner, and we spent the night in front of the television at a local restaurant, calling friends and relatives to make sure none of them were involved.

One friend crossed the bridge a few minutes before the accident, and another was on his bicycle a few blocks away, but that's it so far. I'm thankful for that.

So far, the loss of life appears to be surprisingly low for such a major catastrophe, and the reports from the scene indicate people stayed relatively calm, resilient and helpful. Their efforts are admirable, and my heart goes out to those who lost friends and loved ones in this tragedy.

The Traveling Life

2007-08-01T16:46:00.000-05:00

Just returned from a working vacation in Maine. I profiled an ATV club in Central Maine, photographed an old farm tractor, and spent a couple days camping in Acadia National Park with my 11-year-old niece, Hannah. Hannah and I have been going camping each year since she was five, and she came with this year to help out on the assignments and see a new part of the world. She’s a great kid, and a good little traveler.

One of the best experiences came at Hannaford, a little grocery store chain out there. We had a nice time chatting with the woman at the deli counter, who told us about her grandkids and sailing and how much she loved Bar Harbor. I was trying to get Hannah to touch one of the live lobsters in the store, and she said, “I’m not touching that!” A woman walked by, smiled, and said, “I'm with her—I wouldn’t touch them, either!” At the meat counter, I was buying some salmon to cook over the fire, and another woman walked up to pick up some pork shoulder. She saw Hannah eyeing the lobsters, and took one out for her to touch. Bar Harbor, at least, is a friendly place.

A little coffee shop in Bar Harbor was also a nice little home-away-from-home. They had wireless, so I went there to work for a few hours and Hannah shopped the block. I had her come back every ten minutes, and she’d come in with a bag of stuff and show me her treasures. She bought a sweatshirt for her dad, a bracelet for Amy, a stuffed lobster for Heather, and a bright green stuffed moose for Allie. She also bought a snow globe for Mom (grandma), but that broke while it was in her backpack.

The tidepools were a nice experience, and rummaging through them is a great thing to do with a kid. We found a little tiny crab, shells, a sea anomene, and tons of snails on Wonderland. We also hung out at Seal Beach a couple of nights, and Hannah found lots of shells there and a little stream to play in.

During the trip, Hannah asked me how much fun I had over the past few years, and I said I have so much fun doing what I do that it ought to be illegal. That stuck with me, and I was thinking about it last night. Right now, nearly everything I do in my life, I enjoy. I’m lucky and proud of what I’ve done during the past six months of trying to make this business work. I focus so much on where I want to be that I sometimes forget to appreciate where I’m at.

Serendipity

2007-07-20T15:13:00.000-05:00

While flying back from the Crooked Road tour in Virginia, I sat next to Brian, who is from Ohio. We talked for a while, and I found out that he used to work for the Ohio Tourism Office. He also told me that Hocking Hills was a great place for motorcycling, and I should visit.

A month later, a hand-carved bird shows up in the mail along with an invitation from Amy Weirick of the local tourism office to come down and see Hocking Hills. So I agree to go, figuring I can profile an ATV club, do a motorcycle tour story, and see the area.

The day comes closer and I'm starting to think, what the hell? I have a plate full of deadlines and I'm headed down on a press trip? Why am I doing this?

As it turns out, I had a productive and vastly entertaining trip. The Hocking Hills remind of the Ozarks, with rolling hills, great motorcycle roads, and gorgeous caves and valleys. Plus the people down there are grounded Midwestern sorts with a little southern twang. And the little bit of the Short North and Germantown neighborhoods I saw in Columbus were really nice--that's a cool, livable town that reminds me a bit of MSP.

So here's a few photos--I'm running short on writing time--but let's leave it that I found another place I want to visit again.

The valley leading to Cedar Falls in Hocking Hills. I missed a wine tasting to get this shot . . .

Trenner Wile is 8 years old and likes shooting BB guns and racing his DRR quad. He’s been at it since he was 5 years old, and is leading his class in SOCC.

Katherine Page is 10 years old. She told me she likes beating the boys. She’s leading the Mini ATV (9-10) class, and had four wins as of mid-July.

Bahamamania

2007-06-28T10:15:00.000-05:00

I spent the past week working in the Bahamas with Michael Kranefuss. We are working on a book about his life in racing, and weren't happy with the results of collaborating via e-mail. We needed to be face to face, and he and his wife, Immy, are at their place on Eleuthera Island until mid-July, so down I went.

Although most of the trip was spent interviewing Michael, I did get a little taste of the Bahamas through my travels. The time with Michael and Immy was a real treat, as they are fun people and gracious hosts, and swimming on the pink sand beach in front of their home was also a lovely way to break up the day. I was struck the most, however, by the way that time operates in the Bahamas . . .

Schedules in the Bahamas are like stop signs in Brazil; both are mere suggestions, a nice idea when convenient and a non-factor when not. Airline flights through Nassau do have scheduled times. It said so on my ticket, and it even said so on the battered TV monitor in the terminal.

But those times, clearly, are not something anyone takes terribly seriously.

I discovered this by arriving nearly three hours early for my flight from Nassau to Eletheura Island Monday morning. I was early only because my cab driver was coming by the hotel at 5 a.m., and that was the only time she could pick me up. Rather than risk calling another cab company and hoping someone would show up, I rode with this one. She was there when I blearily came down from my room at 5, so off I went to the airport.

At the Nassau Airport at 5:45 a.m., I anticipated finding a ghost town. What I walked into was complete chaos. The line at the Bahamas Air counter was only about 40 people deep, but that was enough to fill the stanchions and spill out into the walkway. People waited with duct-taped cardboard boxes and heaped piles of battered luggage. Everyone seemed to know each other, and people were constantly swapping places to talk with someone they knew. Many of these conversations ended with the person who moved up just happening to hang around with their "friend," so the line was a shifting sea of changing positions.

The lined moved at a snail's pace, with each customer's arrival at the Bahamasair counter prompting lots of discussion and hand-waving. And after about fifteen minutes (with maybe two passengers processed), one of the women from behind the counter came out and suggested everyone in Line A who was on Flight X move to Line B. She did this with great authority and precision.

Once we all shifted properly, she returned to patrolling the back of the counter. Then another woman came out and sternly admonished all the people in Line B on Flight X, as they were supposed to be in Line A. So everyone shifted back.

In the meantime, people were streaming in for the flight that was nearly late, and moving right to the front of the line. They simply ambled in, stepped in front of everyone, and blithely ignored all the dirty looks shot their way. In fact, the second stern woman came over to move one man in a bright yellow jumpsuit who had strolled to the front of the line, and he completely ignored her, as well.

"Sir, you need to go to the back of the line," she said. He didn't even look at her, just stood in his spot. She finally resorted to asking him to at least clear the aisle. The expression on his face gave no indication he was aware she even existed, but he did move about 12 inches back. That was enough for the stern woman, who went back to her job rearranging lines.

In the end, I made my plane, but spent two hours in that line and the flight door was closed shortly after I boarded. We were assured that the planes would be kept waiting until all ticketed passengers were onboard, but the plane left with empty seats and several people behind me were left behind.

And this of course begs the question, if the lines continue to move slowly and flights are held until everyone is on board, delays would backlog until even the day of departure would be dubious.

Another example of time came when I made arrangements to get a ride to the airport back home on Sunday morning. I asked Stanton, who operates the local car rental service and is also the town's taxi driver, to pick me up at 6:00 a.m.

"That's much too early," Stanton said. "I'll be there at 6:30."

He showed up at 6:15, surprising me. Maybe he couldn't sleep that night?

I asked him about flight times on the ride in. The flight was scheduled to leave at 8:10 a.m.

"Oh, you'll have plenty of time," he said. "The flight won't leave until 8:30. Unless it lands early. Then they leave at 7:30. But sometimes it doesn't land until 7:45, and then it leaves at 8:10."

I nodded obliquely, and he gave me that bouyant, hearty tone I believe locals reserve for tourists.

"No worries, mon," he boomed, "You will be there in plenty of time."

He was right, and I even had time to drink some terrible instant coffee before boarding my flight to Nassau. In the Nassau airport, things were again completely messed up, and I spent another two and a half hours standing in lines which were constantly juggled to make sure the people whose flight was supposed to have left 10 minutes ago were in line for the flight to leave when it left, which was about 30 minutes after the scheduled time, which was "on time" or possibly early in the Bahamas.

As a footnote, this concept of time is incredibly liberating. Maddening for those of us married to schedules--which is, sadly, most of us who live in this land of Blackberry, Twitter, and Download Now!--but the idea of time as a relative rather than absolute master frees you of a lot of baggage. Speaking of which, baggage is something else that didn't show up on time on my trip, but that's another story entirely . . .

God's Country

2007-06-07T10:41:00.000-05:00

I returned to Texas for the first time since May 1988. I lived in Irving during the second year of my eight-year-long college odyssey, and three assignments took me back. In between photographing the Texas Mud Mafia at play near Kilgore, the Rahr and Sons Brewing Company, and The Texican Chop Shop in San Angelo, I took a little nostalgic tour of my old stomping grounds.

Despite the fact that the Dallas area has experienced tremendous development since the late 1980s, Irving really hasn't changed that much. The school I attended had changed hands, and a few of the businesses in the strip malls on Belt Line Road were rebuilt and new, but the old apartment building I lived in was pretty much the same. I was mostly shocked to see the area I called home for nine months was so small.

Seeing Texas with a more mature eye was fascinating. I did a brewery profile of a local micro-brewery, Rahr and Sons Brewing, and one of the owners, Tony Formby, took me on a tour of some of the Fort Worth venues that serve his beers. Downtown Fort Worth is a really great little area, with gorgeous rennovated old buildings and a small-town blend of Texan hospitality and character. The Flying Saucer was probably my favorite stop, a great bar with enough history and architecture to be attractive and a cast of colorful regulars.

We also caught a heavy metal band playing at a horror show and band outing at the brewery that night. The music was heavier and louder than my tastes, but the beer and crowd were interesting enough to more than compensate.

Thanks to Jeff Holt, a West Texan who blogs about beer at Wort's Going on Here, for recommending Rahr & Sons.

I spent Sunday riding with the Texas Mud Mafia, a fun-loving crew who fed me great barbequed chicken, braved a torrential downpour to ride, and taught me that mud riding can be a family affair. Who knew? They also have a great sense of humor. My favorite quote came from Johnene McLarry, who was sporting pink rubber boots and riding with her boyfriend. "I ride on the back and work his paddle," she said with a laugh. Her BF came over when he heard us laughing and rolled his eyes. "What did she say now?" he said.

On Monday, I had the privilege of visiting with the guys at The Texican Chop Shop. The shop is owned by Los Lonely Boys, and blends building hot rods with community activism in the building where one of the boys from the band worked long before being discovered. My only regret with that visit was I didn't have time to check out the town and really get to know the guys at the shop.

On Saturday night, my rental car drained the battery (or maybe I left the lights on--nice move), so I had to get a jump. In true Texas style, help was not hard to find. The parking lot attendant provided jumper cables, a guy on the sidewalk stopped to help push the car out so we could access the battery. Then two six-foot-plus Texans in crisp polo shirts and a big white Chevy truck came over and offered to jump the car. It was quite a scene--I was parked on a lot across from a packed patio bar, and every guy who walked by offered his two cents on how to make the operation work. When the car was up and running, the two tall Texans asked me why I was in town (apparently I don't look or sound Texan--surprise, surprise). One of them turned to me as he left and and said, "Welcome to God's Country."

Yep, that's Texas. Big, helpful, and full of beer. Not a bad combination, in my book.

Rediscovering North Country

2007-05-29T20:40:00.000-05:00

My assignment last weekend took me up to Nashwauk, Minnesota to visit with the Range Riders ATV Club. I'll be honest, I wasn't that excited to be spending the start of my long weekend with strangers. To me, that weekend is a time to see friends, old or new, and relax.

But a deadline beckoned, so off I went on the four-hour drive to Nashwauk, Minnesota with the weatherman telling me bad weather was rolling in (great). I rolled in late in the day, and immediately got on the trail to get some shots before the clouds opened up for a late May drenching.

When we returned to the cabin, I grabbed some shots of the place while the rest of the crew prepped for supper. I was struck by the smell of pine and lake that reminds me of time spent canoeing the BWCA, and the way that life's frenetic pace slows when in Northern Minnesota.

I was called in for supper, and found the largest pan of pork ribs I've ever seen (enough to feed 20 hungry men) made by by Mari Kaminen and served on a 100-year-old table rescued from a logging camp. The cabin was home-built by Gary Kaminen's Dad in the 1940s, and is one of those classic up-north hunting shacks where a guy like me can truly relax because a spilled beer or dropped rib is more likely to improve the place than cause any harm. Gary and Mike had a great story tell after dinner, one that will make this club feature fun to read (and to write). The night was finished off out by the lake next to a Buick-sized bonfire and a seemingly endless supply of beers and stories (I'm a sucker for both).

The next day dawned relatively clear, and we rode through about 10 miles of backcountry to a hospital-sized rock the locals dubbed "The Whale." Standing on the spine of this ancient chunk of granite, swatting mosquitoes and surrounded by the virginal green of north country in the spring, I remembered that I happen to love Minnesota as much as more exotic locales.

I'm a sucker for travel, even in my own backyard.

Stones

2007-05-20T19:57:00.001-05:00

May has been all about new construction. For my little business, it's about building some leads and connections. I sent proposals to Men's Journal, National Geographic Adventure, and Backpacker. I think there's some salable, strong story ideas that went out, but I yet have to make a confirmed sale.

In the meantime, I've been building contacts for the garage book, and feel like I'm starting to get a foothold on that project. I found a number of architects who may be able to help find the right kind of garages, and scheduled shoots at places in Wisconsin and Texas. The most exciting is The Texican Shop, a customization shop owned by Los Lonely Boys down in San Angelo, Texas. They do a lot of great things in the community, and also have some great cars and music heritage. Should be a fascinating place to visit.

On the home front, it 's been home improvement month, and Casa de Klanchero has refinished floors, new paint, a new patio, and an asphalt drive going in. This past weekend was the first in the patio-building process. I can't quite say I enjoy laying brick--hauling the blocks and leveling the sand is painstaking, back-straining work. But the results are satisfying. With help from my neighbor, Pete, I finally have a walk in front of my office door in the garage (and another 300 square feet to lay!).

Completing the walk this weekend was no small task, and the result is a cobblestone path that feels solid and substantial. I like working on stone, and my office floor is Chinese slate that lends a rugged look and strong foundation. After a week of working on queries, which you send off into the editorosphere and hope that they get some lift, the contrast of doing work with immediately tangible results is wonderful. I can only hope that the month's queries build a base for my little business as solid as the stones under my feet.

Rooms with (and without) a View . . .

2007-04-25T21:19:00.000-05:00

I was in New York for the ASJA Conference last weeked. A great experience. But I had two different views of the city from various rooms. One came thanks to a friend of mine who recommended a hostel on the Upper West Side that is undoubtedly one of the cheapest private rooms in the city, charging $50 per night. Proof that you get what you pay for. Here's the view from that room:

The other came compliments of Bill Dyszel, who hosts a party for ASJA members at his penthouse in Manhattan on Saturday night:

A Sunday Drive in Virginia

2007-04-25T20:50:00.000-05:00

April 15, 2007
3:23 p.m.
Photo taken through the window of my rental car as I was driving on the Highlands Parkway (Hwy. 58) crossing Mount Rogers Recreation Area in western Virginia.

On a tour of The Crooked Road, a rustic highway that crosses a number of great bluegrass destinations, I ran smack dab into a nasty nor'easter that dumped three inches of fresh snow on the road. Cars were spun out and abandoned on the road, and my rented Dodge 300 barely made it over the 3,600-foot passes. Just goes to show that a Sunday drive can quickly turn into an adventure!

P.S. Yeah, I still had one hand on the wheel and had the vehicle (mostly) under control at all times. Kids, don't try this at home . . .

St. Paul, Minnesota on April 11 at 9:12 a.m.

2007-04-11T09:12:00.000-05:00

Shot this image out of my office door this morning. Selling Minnesotans on the importance of reducing greenhouse gases isn't going to be easy today . . .

Speeding Past Fifty

2007-03-30T14:27:00.000-05:00

On a Ride Through Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, Racing Legend Dick Burleson Shows No Signs of Slowing Down
By Lee Klancher

[This article is destined for Robb Report Motorcycling. I'm putting it up here for comments. Fire away . . . ]

As the sun rose over Lake Superior, Dick Burleson piloted a KTM 950 Adventure to the top of the ancient chunk of granite that watches over the town of Marquette, Michigan. This battered old rock has survived four ice ages. The heavy ice pushed the mountains of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula into the earth and, 11,000 years later, they are still rising back up.

Nearly three decades after winning his eighth off-road championship, Burleson is still one of the faster off-road riders in the country. Active and fit, the compact 58-year-old man is a bundle of high energy who relishes a tough challenge on two wheels.

Michigan is home for Burleson. He lives in Travers City and grew up in St. Joseph, both of which are on Michigan’s lower peninsula. His childhood was spent under the thumb of his father, who pushed him to become a concert pianist. Burleson worked hard to fulfill his father’s dream until he turned 18, but his path was more aligned with that of his outgoing, athletic mother. Having some freedom at a summer camp near Stueben in the UP allowed him to come to grips with that.

“When I was a kid, I went to a summer camp in the center of the UP. That was fantastic,” he said. “It was one of those things where you realize who you are and what you can do. They just threw us out there and let us have it. I realized I was pretty good at a lot of stuff. It was a big confidence builder for me.”

He enjoyed the camp so much he ended up working up there after he went to the University of Michigan at Ann Arbor to study mechanical engineering. He started riding motorcycles in college, and took his Honda S90 with him up to camp to explore the area.

His love of riding led to racing, and Burleson became the best off-road racer in America. He dominated the sport from 1974 to 1981. After his racing career was over, Burleson became a factory rep for KTM and Moose Racing.

On this warm August morning, Burleson, myself, and my long-time riding buddy Mark Frederick are saddled on KTM 950s with the intention of spending three days revisiting some of Burleson’s favorite places in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula.

This was an assignment, sure, but I considered it a personal mission as well. I was turning 40 on the last day of the trip, and could think of no better way to do that than riding with one of my favorite motorcycle heroes.

The UP has 287 miles of designated off-road motorcycle trails, but that’s just the tip of the off-road iceberg up there. The area is about the size of Maryland, with only 328,000 residents. Three of the Great Lakes border the UP—Superior, Michigan, and Huron—with 1,700 miles of shoreline bordering vast tracts of national forest and land owned by lumber and mining companies.

The UP also features an abundance of waterfalls, lighthouses, beaches, and wilderness to explore. We based out of the Lake Superior port town of Marquette, Michigan, which has a historic downtown near the town’s harbor district.

After burning some pavement over to one of Dick’s favorite breakfast stops, we headed down some snowmobile trails near Trout Lake in the east central part of the UP. Burleson led us down a fire road that turned into a narrower trail and became a deep sandy trail and we soon found ourselves riding a gnarly little piece of singletrack.

Approaching a nasty rock-covered hill, I wondered how expensive it would be to replace the 950’s plastic if I dropped it as I attacked the hill. The big bike snorted and positively ate the incline for breakfast, the supple rear suspenders keeping the fat rear tire putting the big twin-cylinder’s ample power to the ground with aplomb.

I shouldn’t have been surprised, either by the KTM’s capability or by the fact that a dual-sport ride with a former enduro champion took about three hours to turn into an off-road ride.
Burleson rides hard for a man one-third his age, but he’s one of many riding off-road after becoming eligible for an AARP membership.

“Use it or lose it. If I stopped . . .well, first of all, I’d go postal,” Burleson said. “I’d lock up and be taking drugs so I can walk. You keep doing it and you can do it. Part of the issue, too, is these stinking motorcycles are so good. You don’t have to work it all the time. Just go ride.”

The bikes may be good, but Burleson is no slouch. With his 60th birthday just around the corner, he’s still one of the fastest riders in the country. At the 2005 Moose Run, a notoriously tough off-road race, Burleson finished inside the top ten.

“You have to have realistic expectations,” Burleson said. “There was a time up until I was 40, that if I was racing, I wanted to win. Now I would kind of like to win, but I’m not gonna. I want to do the best I can possibly do and maybe embarrass some young kids. The goal is a little different. Part of the issue is to ride within yourself and to do that, you’ve got to train. You’ve got to take care of yourself.”

Burleson lives up to that. He maintains his physical condition with a combination of active sports and hard work at the gym.
That work pays off in speed, and he manhandled the big 950 through the woods with grace. The bike is so tall he has to hop off the side to touch the ground, but that doesn’t slow him down.

After our off-road foray near Trout Lake, we hit the pavement and turned up the wick on a bomb run to the 8,614-foot-long Mackinac Bridge. North of the bridge is a strip of the Upper Peninsula on Lake Superior’s Whitefish Bay that offers great beaches and sleepy little resorts. Along this shore on highway 123 on the way to Paradise, Michigan, we were treated to warm sun and a cool, fresh breeze blowing off the big lake.

The next leg of the journey was a cut through some of the two-track fire roads running west across the top of the eastern side of the UP. Bombing through a pine forest, a dark streak ran across the trail ahead of us and loped into the woods.

The tall, shaggy animal was one of the 434 wolves the DNR estimates live in the UP. That is a relatively small wolf population—Minnesota has more than 2,000—so the sighting was a rare treat.

The trail came out at the coast town of Grand Marais, a historic little town with gorgeous old homes lining sand-swept beaches on Lake Superior. Grand Marais is the gateway for Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore, a place that inspired 1820s explorer Henry Rowe Schoolcraft. “Some of the most sublime and commanding views in nature,” he wrote.

The geographic features of note in the 70,000-acre park are the brown, tan and green cliffs lining 42 miles of Lake Superior shoreline. America’s first National Lakeshore, the wilderness park features waterfall-dotted outcroppings, which rise more than a hundred feet above the blue-green waters. Much of the lakeshore is only accessible by foot or water. There are also several overlooks in the park where you can walk from your vehicle to view the formations.

Our tour of the park was done as the light was fading, and we arrived at our hotel in Marquette at midnight with more than 500 miles of travel under our belts. Even Burleson’s famed energy seemed a bit sapped that night, but he was up at the crack of dawn the next day, bright, chipper and ready for another day of exploration when Mark and I came down for breakfast at 7:30 a.m.

We headed west of Marquette, intending to work our way up the Keweenaw Peninsula. The Keweenaw is one of the prime motorcycle destinations of the UP, a narrow sliver of land surrounded by rocky coastline and filled with intriguing two-track to explore.

We got sidetracked exploring the backcountry near the town of Big Bay. The town is a great off-the-beaten track destination, with old hotels and small town cafes.

On the final day of the ride—my 40th birthday—we left the 950s back at the hotel, and took off-road bikes into Dick’s favorite riding area, the Sands. He laid out the Loose Moose National Enduro there, one of the toughest off-road rides in Michigan.

Among the motorcycle industry, Burleson’s love of nasty off-road terrain is legendary. He has no sympathy for those who don’t share his tastes in challenging terrain.

While describing the reaction of participants to his enduro course, he had no patience for those who felt the race was too difficult. The complaints, he said, were simply more evidence of the “pussification of America.”

We parked at a trailhead in the area, and unloaded two KTMs off-road bikes and a Suzuki DRZ400S, a bit nervous about what was ahead. Following Dick Burleson around his home country is the equivalent of being led through the gates of Hades by Beelzebub. Both have intimate knowledge of their domains, and take delight in tormenting their victims.

Burleson led us through a gnarly piece of singletrack snaking through rocks, hills, and logs. I struggled with the 400, and Burleson took the bike and let Mark and I ride the KTMs, which were much better suited to the difficult terrain. At the time, I thought he was being gracious, but after some reflection, I think he just wanted to be sure we were able to survive his nastiest trails.

Burleson is fluid and graceful off-road, even on the heavy Suzuki dual-sport. One of the nastiest spots on the course was a rocky downhill. After a fairly arduous climb to the top of a house-sized block of granite, the trail dropped off the rock with a four-foot vertical cliff. The landing point was a steep jumble of head-sized rocks. I watched Burleson drop smoothly off the ledge to the trail below.

I sat at the top, mustering my nerve to leap off.

“Don’t gas it,” Burleson said. “Just roll it and let the forks soak up the hit when you land.”

I took a deep breath, gently let out the clutch, kept my body centered on the bike, and rolled off the SX off the ledge. It landed awkwardly and squirted down the hill. Not pretty, but I made it.
Later that night, we had a great meal in Marquette and Burleson shared his views on riding as he approached 60 years of age.

“When I’m no longer able to run in the top ten in the country at a national-caliber race, I’ll quit,” he told us. “I figure I have ten more years in me.”

Aging is one of the universal life challenges, and everyone finds their own way to deal with it. Burleson deals with age like he did racing—well prepared and charging in at full-throttle.

He won a plus-50 downhill mountain biking title a few years back, and still spends his time wind surfing, mountain biking, running, and riding his off-road bike. I spoke to him in March 2007, and he had just returned from a visit to the doctor.

“My wife and I made a high-speed trip over to the Mayo Clinic,” he said. “I did a whole mega-industrial strength physical exam.”

He told me that his health was so good it surprised his doctor.

“My body fat was the lowest she’d ever seen. She was like, what?” he said, bursting into his distinctive staccato laugh.

Burleson’s eight enduro championships are a feat that may never be matched. The way he’s attacking life speaks volumes about why that is so. Like the ancient mountains rising back out of the Upper Peninsula, Burleson hasn’t let time keep him down.

Burleson Quotes

“I said, ‘I’m sorry, I’m not a team player.’”
—Dick Burleson, about his response to a request from the running coach at the University of Michigan, who noticed Burleson set the fast time at the U’s indoor track and wanted him to join the team

“It’s all part of the pussification of America.”
—Dick Burleson, responding to criticism from race participants that the course he designed for the 2006 Loose Moose Enduro was too tough

“The government has to protect us from ourselves.”
—Dick Burleson, commenting on a “trail closed” sign

“When I’m no longer able to run in the top ten in the country at a national-caliber race, I’ll quit. I figure I have ten more years in me.”
—Dick Burleson, commenting on racing at age 58

“If I stopped . . .well, first of all, I’d go postal.”
—Dick Burleson, on riding off-road after reaching 50 years of age

“Since my hand was big enough to reach an octave, my dad was convinced I would be a concert pianist . . . I was actually pretty good.”
—Dick Burleson, who played avidly until he turned 18

“I have a piano. It’s not fair to say I don’t play, but I don’t play.”
—Dick Burleson, who now plays only for fun with his grandkids

“My dad was easily the most conservative guy in the world . . . My mom was quite the opposite. She was very athletic and outgoing. We have pictures of her surfing behind a boat in 19-like-20.”
—Dick Burleson

“There was no money—zero. I had a Ford van. A buddy of mine loaned me $500 so I could buy a Husky . . . Half the series was on 250 and half was on open. I had two motors. I’d race on weekend and swap motors for the next week. The chassis were all bent. I’d drive in my Ford van and sleep in my van. You’d make maybe enough to pay for gas. There was no money in that.”
—Dick Burleson on racing against the Europeans in the 1970 Trans-AMA

Geeking Out

2007-03-25T22:05:00.000-05:00

I've been home catching up on a few things the past week, and I've been playing around with some new technology. The first bit was something I've had for a while, an Olympus DM-1 digital audio recorder. I've been meaning to use it for the ATV club features for a while, and I tried it out on the Arkansas trip, and it worked great.

I taped most of the interviews with the ATV club, and it worked really slick for that. The unit is small and innocuous, which is good, and you turn it on with a simple record button. I left it resting on my Honda's tank bag (the interviews all took place by the bike) and it picked up the voices of anyone within about eight feet of it.

The built-in microphone works pretty well. I found a reference to an external microphone that is supposed to work better that I may try down the road. For now, this is fine.

The files go on to SmartMedia cards, and can be transferred to my computer. I downloaded the latest Olympus software, and I could play them on the computer. A foot-operated rocker switch would help to cue the audo to start and stop as I type, and I'd like to find some automatic transcription software, but those are niggles. Using tape is something I'll do from now on.

I found that meant I can take thinner notes, and just write the prime quotes down. I can also get a much richer quote by using the recorder. And the 128mb cards hold 20 hours of audio. I have three cards, so I'm set on that front.

I also hooked up my new Sunrocket phone so that I can record phone interviews, which will help out a ton with that process.

Speaking of which, internet phones (like Sunrocket) are cheap and very slick to use. You can set it up to have messages sent as audio files to your e-mail. This means I'll get phone messages even when I'm on the road. That has been a good addition.

My last bit of geeking out this week is setting up a wireless network at home. A friend of mine wanted to upgrade to the new Airport base station, so he sold me his old one cheap. I installed that in the office--which took all of about 20 minutes--and had a wireless office. Nice.

The range is pretty good, but I wasn't getting good coverage in my house, which is about 50 feet away from my garage. I would get a connection in the house, but not a strong or consistent one. So I added a small Airport Express unit, which Apple is clearing out for less than $100. Setting that up took some doing--I think because of how my security was set up on the base station--but I solved those problems tonight and now have solid wireless throughout the house and in the office.

I have internet access in the house, and can use my laptop to access the files on my main computer out in the garage. Plus, Airport Extreme hooks into your stereo, and allows you to play iTunes through the stereo. I can play music in the house with my laptop, and my CD collection can go into boxes and be put away!

Lastly, I've been doing a little home improvement on the weekends. I did a little painting, am having the living room hardwood floor refinished, and having been getting bids on having the driveway paved. I'm also putting some thought into the back patio, and have a rough plan for that and hope to start in the next few weeks.

And, yes, I did file a story, sell some photos for the Seasons on the Farm collection MBI is publishing, and make a contact with the managing editor at one of Buzz Kanter's magazines.

A fine geek week, all around.

Motorcycle Paradise

2007-03-14T18:22:00.000-05:00

I just returned from a few days in the Ozarks, one of my favorite parts of the world. The country is gorgeous, the weather is great this time of the year, and the people are friendly. Plus the motorcycling is outstanding, with great twisty roads to ride on the street and tons of good off-road riding, as well.

I spent a day playing off-road at Brock Creek with my new (to me) 125SX. The KTM and I fared better than a year ago at the same spot, a day in which I spent most of the time picking the bike up off the ground. I rode with Darrick Anderson and his brother, Trevor.

I also spent a day doing a club profile for ATV Rider magazine. This month it was the Northwest Arkansas ATV Club, a good bunch who showed me around the Mill Creek Riding Area. My favorite quote from Tom Scates, a long-time ORV enthusiast, who said, “I don’t drink bourbon or coffee anymore . . . My vice is my Rhino.”

Sunday was spent doing a ride for Cruiser magazine with Billy Bell and his father, Gene. I met the two at a cafe in their hometown of Jasper, a great little town near the Arkansas Grand Canyon (yeah, I didn't know there was one, either). They were having breakfast with a group of cafe regulars, and I was treated to stories abou the town's origins. One of the local guys, John Hudson, told me his dad, who was a well-known doctor who did some innovative work with TB patients. John invited me to stop by his home, which is a much rennovated place built around an 1826 cabin. Gene, Billy, and I stopped in for a tour, and it was amazing. The guy has a complete museum in his house, with medical devices and lots of momentos from his dad's career.

So a good trip to Arkansas. Now I just have to convince Andy at Cruiser that my "favorite ride" is Arkansas, not Colorado! I'm working on an article for him in the next issue which features "Editor's Favorite Rides." Colorado works better for the issue geographically but I prefer Arkansas--it's motorcycle paradise.

Snow!

2007-03-02T08:50:00.000-06:00

Governor Tim Pawlenty called in the national guard yesterday to help motorists stranded by the closings of Interstate 35 in the southern part of Minnesota. Schools are closed. Governments are shut down. This is a real snow storm!

My drive to work this morning? Twenty minutes with the snowblower and about 30 seconds walking to the office. Not bad.

The plow knocked off my mailbox (for the second time this week). Message to Mr. Plow driver: wake up and pay attention, wouldja?

A Little Florida . . .

2007-03-01T08:30:00.000-06:00

We're being bombed with snow here in the Midwest, which is lovely. The timing has been perfect--I was in Florida on assignment last week and came back just in time for one big snowstorm last week with another coming this week.

Thought I'd post a few photos of Florida. The trip included an interesting visit with Terry Thompson, the president of the Ocala National Forest Assocation. He is spearheading the assembly of a group of volunteeer trail rangers who will patrol the trail system in the forest. What Terry's doing is necessary for ORV enthusiasts across the country as new USFS policies are enacted which require national forests to restrict ORV use to "established trails."

Interesting to have found a story with a bit more depth than I expected, and great to see people going out there and doing what it takes to keep the sport alive.

I also spent a day pursuing my "gator quest." I stopped at Lake Apopka, a lake in which a researcher from the University of Florida discovered that the alligators had smaller penises than those who lived in another nearby lake. I stopped at the lake and spoke to a bishop who was there fishing. He said he had seen plenty of gators swimming past while he fished, some as "big as my truck" (tho he didn't comment on their penis size). The whole Lake Apopka alligator issue captured my interest--were these gators seeking help with commerical drugs or therapy?--and I spent the day searching for gators.

I found a gator hotel which had a 60-foot fiberglass gator eating a car out front. I photographed gators. I gathered gator stories, including the tale of a nine-footer battering his head against the door of a woman's house until animal control showed up. That's one knock on the door that would be a shock to answer, eh? I didn't make my final destination--Alligator Point up near Tallahassee--and I didn't get to meet Alligator Bob, so the completion of the gator quest will have to wait for another trip.

Besides good stories and foolish quests for lizards, it was good for this lily white midwesterner to see a little sun. That 80-degree reprieve is hard to imagine today, as a snowstorm has turned the view out of my office window into near white-out conditions. This is the way winter's meant to be!

Farmall Calendar 2008 Update

2007-02-13T10:41:00.000-06:00

Here's the cover for the Farmall Calendar 2008. It should be available for pre-orders on Amazon in the next month or two.

Thanks to all the owners for their time (and the cookies and food!), and to editors Amy Glaser and Leah Noel at MBI Publishing for putting it all together.

The list of tractors that made the calendar are listed below, along with the owners:

Farmall Calendar 2008
Final Selects and Owners

Cover
1953 Model H
Albin Sterry
Scrum, Wisconsin

January
1964 International 2806
Sylvester Hohlfield
Chaseburg, Wisconsin

February
2007 Case IH (Steiger) STX 380
Bahl’s Motor & Implement
Hastings, Minnesota

March
1969 International 1256
Sylvester Hohlfield

April
1933 F-12
Jack Bailey
Surrey, British Columbia

May
1972 International 1468
Kevin “Swede” Hanvold
Osseo, Wisconsin

June
1953 Farmall H
Albin Sterry
Scrum, Wisconsin

July
1928 McCormick-Deering 10-20
Scott Anderson
Cadott, Wisconsin

August
1964 International Cub
Bob Bennett

September
1961 International 340 Diesel
Bob Bennett
Poulsbo, Washington

October
1948 Farmall M
Bob Bennett

November (sunrise photo)
1953 Farmall H

December
1960 International 560 Diesel
Richard Kadelbach
Hutchinson, Minnesota

The Waiting Game

2007-02-02T17:01:00.000-06:00

Part of this gig that will probably always drive me crazy is waiting. I'm not an inherently patient man. In fact, I'm not patient at all.

So I have several great projects out as proposals for magazine and book projects, and I'm waiting on all of them. If a couple of them come through, well, I can settle a bit and know what I'm doing for the year, but I'm kind of hanging until then. Sri Lanka or Texas . . . who knows? I think they will go through---all are viable projects that should make good reads. Still, I'd like answers shortly. Sigh--that's not how this business works. I've been on the other side of the desk long enough now to be aware of that!

The other part that is odd about my new gig is editing. Odd in the sense that it sort of takes some wind out of my sails--I'm suposed to be doing this new thing, but I still need to do some editing to pay the bills. It's not that I don't enjoy the projects, I'm just excited to tackle new magazine markets and see how far I can take this thing.

That aside, it is good to be able to focus exclusively on the projects on my desk. Both of the projects I worked on were terrific books. One is The 200-mph Billboard by Mark Yost. Mark is a WSJ contributor and former Speed Sport News writer who has carved out a niche for himself as a sports business writer. He's a good reporter, and a good writer, and the book is engaging, informative, and welll-constructed--a real pleasure to work with. One of the best parts is Mark is a neighbor and a friend, and being able to talk through things over a meal is a big help to the process. Plus Mark is an interesting guy, so it's all good. I can see the advantages of working in New York or even L.A.--it's rare that I get to work with authors who live in my neck of the woods.

The other is Top Dead Center, a compilation of articles from one of my favorite writers, Kevin Cameron. He's been writing for Cycle (and later Cycle Word) magazine since 1973, and was a well-respected privateer tuner before becoming a writer. I like his stuff, but had honestly forgotten how good he is. His profiles of racers and builders are insightful and a joy to read. He understands the racing mind in a way very few do, and is a great observer of people. The hardest part of the task has been trying to select 30-40 pieces out of the hundreds of great things he's written.

The week wasn't all editing, of course. I found some time to book my next ATV club ride down in Ocala, Florida. I discovered a group that volunteers to patrol the national forest, and the same crew is working hard to create an entirely new system as well as doing state-wide training. I think that will be a worthwhile story, and am also looking forward to taking photographs without freezing my fingers!

I have a bit more editing this week, but the big crush is past and I'll have time to focus on putting together queries and doing some background for a couple of story ideas.

So if I do my job, those queries will go out to magazine editors, and I can wait some more. I guess that's just part of this game, huh? ;-)

Road Ramblings

2007-01-18T09:05:00.000-06:00

So I spent the day on the road yesterday. Drove down to a farm just south of La Crosse, Wisconsin to photograph a tractor for the 2008 Farmall Calendar (you'll be able to pre-order this at Amazon.com in a few months--watch this space for a note).

Nice to be out shooting, and nice to be on the road. Some observations from the day.

The built-in navigation system on my Garmin GPS V sucks. I used Mapquest to lay out the route, and the Garmin wanted me to go east on 94. I didn’t. Mapquest (and my contact from La Crosse) told me the way to go was down 52 to 90. The funny part was once I passed 94, the Garmin didn’t recalculate for an hour or so and told me I had 485 miles to go when the actual mileage was 175 or so. Stupid thing.

I like open spaces. I don’t particularly care for the flat, open section of southern Minnesota around Rochester. It has this sort of run-down, mullet and Quiet Riot feel that I don’t care for, but I do like seeing big expanses of sky. There’s something liberating about driving down a nearly flat road with nothing but sky and road in your plane of view. Clears the mind.

A couple of notes from the shoot (despite having done this for a while, I'm still learning ;-) ).

Bring a gazetteer along. Being able to pinpoint precise locations, beyond what you can do with a state map or a slightly whacked GPS unit, would have helped me find my destination (which was off the built-in grid on the GPS and off the Mapquest map).

The winter light is harsh and unusable mid-day, but warms up nicely about 2:30 p.m. and is nice and bright until about 4:30. The saturated light from 4:30 to 5:30 was nice but changed colors enough to be distracting.

Always bring my doubler. I could have used more lens for a shot. I had one of the machiines up high on the hill, and could squeeze a bit of cornfield, the tractor, and the blue sky into the shot. I shot it with my 200 and got it reasonably compressed, but it wasn’t as clean as what I had in mind. A 400 would have been perfect.

I’m concerned about the cheap-ish Manfrotto ballhead ($60) I bought. It just didn’t feel terribly stable. I may have to drop some money on a high-end ballhead down the road. The images confirm my suspicions about the unit's stability--some of the longer shots are not sharp. I shot them using the 2-second timer on the Canon and had the ballhead clamped down, so there's not much more I can do with the tripod. I wonder if I can find a good ballhead used?

I need to make sure that second battery for the 1DS arrives shortly. The battery died several times, as the cold shut it down. I put it in my pocket and warmed it up, which bought me another 10 minutes of time before it died again, but it wasn’t really that cold—the thermometer in my Audi read 24 degrees when I drove up. On a colder day, I would have been struggling with only one batttery.

I stayed relatively warm, by the way. I wore wool long johns under light pants and a heavy snowmobiling jacket. My hands got cold—I would have liked some chemical hand warmers in the my pockets, and a better pair of gloves. I used motocross gloves, which were too thick to allow me to use the small buttons on the back of the camera, and not all that warm. I think some thin poly gloves would be a good addition.

After waxing nostalgic about driving Sam’s pickup last week, I have to say, I really enjoy being on the road in the Audi. The car feels tight and is comfortable, reasonably powerful, and smooth. It’s an effective tool, plus the stereo is good.

Lastly, under the category of what six hours in the car with a CD player does to you, I've come to these conclusions: Jack White is a genius, The Pixies live up to the hype, and I want to hear more of the Dresden Dolls--those vocals are amazing.

Over and out, L

Riding the Rain

2007-01-10T15:36:00.000-06:00

Last Sunday was spent riding with the Washington ATV Association, a club based in the Pacific Northwest. They were out on a work weekend, clearing trails in the Capitol State Forest near Olympia. The rain was heavy and steady, and it was a real challenge to keep the cameras working. The 10D fogged after two shoots, and the images were unusable after that (you could see they were fogged in the review screen, thankfully, as I realized the camera was toast and put it away). The 1DS was much better, hanging tough until we got back to the trucks. I think the better environmental seals on the 1DS body paid off. That camera worked through about a dozen stops, and then it fogged up back at the truck. The equipment was soaked by the end of the day, and I had to air out my bag and all of my equipment for a day when I got back. Happily, everything still worked just fine.

Incidentally, my flash and the new 1DS weren't on speaking terms (I think the contact pad wasn't hooking up, but I still have to investigate that glitch further), which meant that I had to shoot a lot of blurs and some static set-ups in low light. The blurs came out surprisingly well. The top photo was one of the first shot without a flash, and I think the soft light gives it a much more interesting look than all the second-curtain sync flash shots you see out there these days. I also hit a few pans on the nose and kept things sharp enough to work well, which I wouldn't have bet I could do in that light. Honestly, given the conditions, I was surprised to find plenty of good images when I came home.

As I noted a few entries back, I wanted to try having someone along to help out during the shoot. Tami Inslee, a graphic designer friend, was willing to lend a hand in order to get a dirt fix. While the tough weather and narrow trails made it pretty much impossible to put her to work while I was shooting on the trail, it was great to have a camera working while I was interviewing club members. As with the Wisconsin club, that is a busy time, and having someone else free to take photos of club members, the setting for the get-together, and so on is a big plus. It's also nice to have someone to help get names. An added bonus was she got one of the best quotes of the day, from four-year-old Hannah. Hannah rides her own ATV, and when asked why she likes it, she said, "Because it's fast." Nice quote, and the help was appreciated.

Big thanks are due to the club members who came out in nasty weather to take part in the ride. They were incredibly generous with time and machinery, and went out of the way to make us feel welcome. In fact, I think we both would have frozen without some borrowed clothes. And thanks to Ron Wolf, a Wisconsin guy who did his best to send us home smashed on his homemade cherry and booze concoctions. We managed to dodge that bullet, but I appreciate the hospitality! The club is doing good work keeping our trails open, and have logged a ton of time clearing trails. A hard-working bunch dedicated to their sport. If you ride in the Capitol State Forest, you have Kathy and Joe Heitmann and the Washington ATV Association to thank.

The Magic of Beater Trucks (long)

2007-01-05T15:39:00.000-06:00

I’m in Seattle staying with one of my best friends and his family. He’s been bothering me to come out and see his new house for a long time, so I took the opportunity to join him for his New Year’s Eve party and to stick around and do some work in the Pacific Northwest.

He and his family have been outrageously generous, and it’s been a great way to start off my new venture. They have plenty of space, and provided a basement bedroom, my own bathroom, and let me take over his home office for a few days.

Better than that, my buddy loaned me his 1996 Ford four-by-four. It’s a blue club cab rig with 122,000 miles and a banged-up right fender that spent it’s former life hauling a horse trailer over the local passes. The seat is sacked out, the driver’s side window doesn’t roll down, and the ball joints are so shot the truck practically weaves down the freeway. I love driving it.

You see, I’m a pickup guy. I found my first truck sitting in the weeds while riding motorcycles with buddies. It was a 1940 Chevy nearly buried in the grass behind Bill Burdick’s house, about eight miles from my childhood home north of Brill, Wisconsin. I remember the musty smell when we climbed inside, and the excitement of talking about where we’d drive it if we got it running. I asked Bill if he’d sell the truck, and he was more than happy to get it off his property. We used my neighbor’s tractor to tow the rig down the narrow trail behind Bill’s house and down the 8 miles of pavement and gravel that led to my parent’s home on the Brill River.

We put it in my yard, next to the garage my Dad had built by my uncle and his long-haired crew in 1968, and there that truck sat. I tried to jump start it with Dad’s truck, but my skills were not up to turning the rusted relic into a runner.

The truck sat in the yard for a year or so, and my Dad finally got sick of it and I sold it to a neighbor kid for $40, pretty pleased at the tidy profit I netted on the Chevy.

More importantly than a ten-dollar windfall, I learned the joys of sitting in a truck, hanging your arm out in the breeze.

I ended up spending most of high school driving my Dad’s 1979 Ford F-150 around the countryside, where my truck guy roots were solidified. During college, I mostly drove motorcycles and shunned four-wheeled transportation, with the exception of an old Buick Electra 225 handed down from my folks and a gold 1973 Cadillac my grandmather bought me to haul my stuff home from California after a one-year stint in school there that turned into an extended lesson in surfing, making printed circuit boards, and how the two made it nigh impossible for me to focus enough to get good grades in school. My dreams of attending Berkeley sunk with my GPA, and I came back to the University of Minnesota for my education.

Once I graduated and found myself with a job that paid more than $10 an hour, I promptly returned to my pickup truck roots and bought a early 1980s Ford two-wheel-drive work truck that was clean, had low miles, a faded-out blue topper, and crank windows. That truck was enlisted for hauling motorcycles, dead deer at the cabin, and me to work and all places inbetween.

That truck aged and passed on, and was replaced with a 1995 black F150 that was one of my favorite trucks. I still think that body style is the best one Ford has had, maybe ever, and I just love the way those trucks feel inside.

I’ve been flirting with non-pickups during the past six years, starting with a 2002 Nissan Xterra that I loved dearly but couldn’t haul anything. I went back to a 1997 Ford F150, but didn’t enjoy parking and driving the truck around the Cities, plus the gas mileage was atrocious, so I bought myself an Audi Avant Quattro that gets reasonable gas mileage, has plenty of room to haul camera equipment, and is a joy to drive. I really love the car but . . . it isn’t a truck.

So getting into Sammy’s 1996 reminded me that, well, I’m a pickup truck guy. I love the way you sit up high and look down on everyone but truckers and the misguided Yuppies driving Hummers to the grocery store. I love that you can turn your head and see through that big flat pane of glass whether or not anyone is behind you. I love bouncing over curbs and not worrying about grinding undercarriage or damaging delicate fenders.

I love the cozy feel of the cab, which has just enough room for you, a shot gun, a friend and a dog. And I like the fact that a woman can sit right next to you on that big bench seat if she wants, maybe shift it for you if it’s manual.

There’s also nothing better than being able to throw in a load of gravel or a couple sheets of plywood. You forget what a hassle getting things that home is until you have a car and have to hook up a trailer every time you want to do a little home improvement.

And I really like having a truck with some miles on it, something that already has had the new vehicle shine worn off by branches scraping it as you bounce down the trail. Bounce a few cement blocks off the side of the box, back into a tree while hauling wood, or maybe scrape it up against a parking meter or two. Then you’ve got a truck, because a little scrape doesn’t mean nothing.

A good friend of mine had a white four-wheel-drive Ford that got sideswiped bad, hammered and battered so badly that the tires stuck out past the smashed fenders. He jimmied the door so it would open, cashed the insurance check, and drove the truck for another six months before buying himself a new one. He loved that truck. Loved how it looked mean, and loved the fact that when he took it up the muddy trails that lead up the mountain to his hunting spot, the mud flew off the exposed tires and covered the truck with huge chunks of black, wet Colorado soil.

My brother-in-law is the proud owner of the Ford That Won’t Die. He calls the truck his Cash Cow because it’s been wrecked and paid for by insurance companies so much it’s more than paid for itself. The truck has nearly 300,000 miles on it, and has been run ragged, dry, and hammered into everything you can imagine serving as a mule for my brother-in-law’s business.

During Christmas, said brother-in-law and I made a newspaper run from my grandmother’s house in B.F.N., Wisconsin to the little gas station in Greenwood (Near BFE), and I picked up a copy of the Tradin’ Times, a local paper that features anything and everything for sale, trucks included. I found a dozen trucks for sale with 150,000 or so miles priced less than what you’d spend on a good computer.

Next decent check that comes in, damned if I’m not going to go buy me one of those.

My Last Week at MBI

2006-12-29T12:42:00.000-06:00

Well, I’m done with my office job. My computer system is now my own. No PC!!! I’ll be working on my Macintosh! I hate PCs! I love my Mac. 'Nuff said.
It would have been much easier to leave if I had a lousy job filling out TPS reports or some such nonsense, but I’ve spent 12 years being involved with something I enjoy--making books. Yes, there is corporate B.S., but that’s to be found at every company. So I'll miss the buzz of puttiing together a good book, the strategizing over look and feel, but I've done enough of that for one lifetime and I'll be doing my favorite part of that--making the words and the photos--so that I can let go of easily enough. Mostly I'll miss the interaction--the tired old jokes with Dennis and Josh, hearing Darwin rant, Jim's addled babble, and so on. So leaving was not necessarily easy, and it took me a while to (as a friend of mine said) “Go over the wall.”
I had a great last week, being treated to lunches, flying a blimp in the building, saying goodbye to everyone, and drinking beer in the office. As I told the CEO, if the job was all beer drinking and blimp flying, I’d never quit.
Good fun, but now it's time to live my dream of becoming an independent contractor. At the moment, I have two Macs up and running (my desktop and my laptop), Science Friday on MPR on the radio, a warm cup of coffee to drink, some home-baked cookies to snack on, shoots of tractors and garages to schedule, and a proposal to send off. Nothin' wrong with that.

The Naked Scot Rides!

2006-12-27T18:01:00.000-06:00

Camera Geek Bidding

2006-12-27T17:01:00.000-06:00

My final missing piece of equipment is a higher-resolution digital camera. I’ve been shooting with a 10D for nearly three years now. Tho I initially didn’t like using digital—the saturation of the images wasn’t up to what I was used to from Fuji film—I’ve come to really appreciate the advantages. In fact, I now prefer digital.

For shooting calendars and opening spreads in a larger-format book, the 10D’s 6-megapixel images are not up to the task, plus my 10D is starting to show signs of age (missing autofocus shots, and misfiring when used with my 70-200), so it’s time for an upgrade. I wanted a full-frame camera, so I had the Canon 1DS Mark 1 and the Canon 5D to choose from. I went over the specs at length. The 5D has more options when it comes to color adjustment, can be set to ISO 3200, and has a larger LCD. Plus it uses the same battery as my 10D, which means I would have two chargers and some extra batteries right away. But it doesn’t have the heavy-duty environmental seals of the 1DS. And I simply love the way the Canon D bodies feel in your hand.

So I’m bidding on eBay on bodies. It’s become a bit of an obsession with me. I missed what I thought was a perfect one last night. It was here in the Twin Cities area, in perfect condition, and came with a transferable extended warranty. I bid a bit higher than I thought was necessary, and some guy from Indonesia outbid me!

Ah well, I’ve found another one and used the “Buy It Now" feature. The hunt is fun, but I'm ready to get the equipment here and put it to work!

The Rock Dam Ride

2006-12-17T15:08:00.000-06:00

I spent some time visiting with an ATV club in Wisconsin on Saturday. A great group of people. They are doing a lot of good things for their community, and were a nice bunch.

I posted my favorite photo from the ride. I shot it over a woman's shoulder as she rode down the trail.

A couple of notes came up. First, I need to use my tape recorder more often. I have trouble getting quotes down in notes, especially in these situations where time is tight and lots of different people are talking to me at once.

I also think that having an assistant would be a huge help. I’d like someone to take some shots while I’m interviewing people, and get additional names and quotes from people in the club.

The Price of Time

2006-12-17T14:57:00.000-06:00

Two weeks showed up in the mail on Friday, a check from one of my magazine clients. The fact that the check was long overdue was besides the point—money these days is time.

I know about what I need to survive each month, and each check represents a little piece of time. Enough pieces of time, and I can take some time off to relax. I don’t imagine that will be happening for a while, honestly.

So I keep a spreadsheet with assignments, and I have enough assignments to survive about six months. Not necessarily thrive, but it’s all about survival right now. And those little assignments of time mean I’ll be doing this for six months. That’s good.

I’ve been reading Mike Perry’s Handbook to Freelance Writing, and a passage of Mike’s that stuck with me states that he’s always six months away from a desk job. I guess he sees money as freedom as well as time.

Freedom. That concept is just starting to sink in, possibly beginning last week when I realized that I had enough work in the hopper to feel like this may actually work.

The CEO at MBI was concerned about the long lead time between the time I made this decision and the time I left. I wanted time to get some contracts signed and preparations made, and my boss wanted me to sort out some of my projects before I left, so we managed to convince the CEO to be patient.

While the time has been good in terms of getting some things lined up, the wait has been hard. There’s nothing worse than knowing something hard is coming that you don’t quite know how to deal with, and not having much time to do anything about it.

So it has been a long fall, with too much time to worry and too little to work.

Happily, however, the wait is nearly over, and I find my mind turning to finding a market for a Kodiak Island ride and weighing whether it is worth writing a sample chapter on spec rather than comparing health insurance plans and figuring out how to manage 401K plans. A welcome change.

I’m looking forward to the day when marketing concerns turn to crafting phrases and choosing f-stops.

The Grip!

2006-11-29T20:15:00.000-06:00

Well, I've had a fairly eventful week. I spoke with a man who was in Ford racing management for the past 20 years or so who is interested in teaming up to write his story. An amazing guy--very outspoken and honest--I believe his story is worth telling and would make a great project. Also had several book ideas proposed, and one was shot down, one was accepted, and one was tabled for more discussion in December, so that's pretty positive. Nice to have some work coming over the transom.
All this during a Thanksgiving week in which I was sick as a dog--I've got the world's nastiest flu! Well, back to a cup of tea and a little rest for my immune system. G'night!

My Favorite Photo from the Heitzman Wedding

2006-11-08T21:05:00.000-06:00

I was putting together a book of photos for a friend of mine whose wedding I photographed last spring, and came across this shot in the black and white film. I'm really happy with the shot--it's a got a feel I really like--so I'm tossing it up here. Enjoy.

Filin' a Story and Listening to Wilco

2006-11-08T20:57:00.000-06:00

Nearly 70 degrees today in Minnesota, and I spent a little time on the bike riding to work today. Made me look forward to days when I can just slip out mid-day for a ride (like that'll happen, but it's a nice thought). Jeff Tweedy is singing Passenger Side, and I've got another story in the bank. Sent a piece in to ATV Rider today about riding with a club in Northern California. The star of that show was Verna, a woman in her 70s who rode with us up in the hills above Placerville. She drove a black Hemi Dodge 4x4 and had a great attitude, smiling through a face full of dirt at the end of the day. Great to get a story in the bank, and to find time to work on my new endeavor. Also did my last sales presentation at the publishing company today, and surprised myself with the fact that I'll miss that. I like getting in front of the sales crew and getting them jacked up to sell books I believe in. This one is an off-road guide done with Ivan Stewart, a great little book that I think people will really enjoy.

I attached a photo of Verna, and am enjoying myself a Blue Moon before heading in to check in on how the Dems are doing in their bid to regain some control in this goofy country of ours. G'night.

Moving Along

2006-09-28T22:31:00.000-05:00

Well, it's been a couple of weeks since I started this blog, so I figure it's time for an update. One of my primary tasks is finding a market to pick up some of the stories I wrote for Escape, the magazine that went belly-up in such a timely fashion the SAME week I decided to go freelance.

After a rough week marked by sleeplessness and a long day sitting at my desk thinking, oh shit, I'm going to be living in a cardboard box a year from now, begging for handouts on the street, I made a little progress on making this screwball dream a reality.

I managed to place one and maybe two of my stories written for the now-dead Escape with Motorcyclist, which is positive. That magazine has a much bigger circulation, so I'll get a bit more exposure. I have two others to sell, and pitched variations of one about a ride with enduro legend Dick Burleson to Men's Health and AARP (insert age joke here--the second is not about ME but about Dick, who's 58 and still living life at full-throttle, to say the least).

Oh, and I also put together a portfolio using the "book" feature in iPhoto. What an amazing program--I did that in about three hours and it looks great. So I've got something to show--now I just need plenty of people to show it to!

One of the best things was having some of my vague notions about what kind of books I want to write forming into more concrete ideas. I think profiles of people who are finding ways to live that are satisfying and creative and outside of mainstream America are interesting, and would be interesting to this homogenized world we live in, but was struggling to find a way to make a book out of that notion. Then I started thinking about the common threads in two innovative, creative people I met while working on books, and realized that both of them built amazing businesses and things in their garage, and thought there's probably a book of profiles and stories about people creating amazing things out of their garage. My publisher, Zack, really likes that idea, and we hammered out a book idea around that this morning.

So that's a big plus this week, another small step in the right direction.

Other than that, life is proceeding normally which means, as of late, a lot of work. I teach and spent the evening refining my class plan. The students are bright and interesting, and the college (Minnesota College of Art and Design) is a place that feels much more hopeful and upbeat than the publishing company where I work (for now). I suppose there's a needed dose of reality at the publishing house, but I like the youthful energy of a college. It's a place where anything seems possible.

2006-09-20T19:52:00.000-05:00

First Steps . . .

2006-09-17T20:28:00.000-05:00

OK, the first step in this thing came from Zack Miller, the VP of Publishing at MBI. We went to college together, and have worked together for a long time now. More than 12 years. He's a friend, and my boss.

We have coffee each week, and he said that he thought it was time for me to pursue my dream, and that he'd support me as a publisher. That kind of support from what will be one of my primary clients is terrific, and was just the push I needed to jump off into the void.

Things are pretty quiet about this right now. I've told a few friends, and the CEO at MBI knows (even came up to congratulate me during a quiet moment at the company car show last Saturday). The rest of the company doesn't know yet, so it's not on the radar screen there.

I did tell an old friend, Sam Wheeler, and his whole family called and said "Congratulations." He's one of those who've been urging me to do this, and the message was really nice.

So I'm working on a list of books to take on, and on drumming up some more magazine clients. One of my primary clients, Motorcycle Escape magazine, went belly up this week (of course). That's a drag, but just points out the fact that I need some venues with more readers (and bigger budgets) anyway.

So I'm researching magazines, looking for a couple of good homes for my debaucherous adventures. Know any magazines interested in stories about motorcycle-riding nutbags cut loose in exotic destinations? Send 'em my way . . .

Starting Out

2006-09-17T19:52:00.000-05:00

I've been talking about freelancing since, well, it's been so long I can't remember when I started. Probably shortly after I decided to drop out of engineering school (OK, maybe I was flunking out . . . details) back in 1989. I was talking about freelancing in 1993, and seriously talking about it in 2000.

So I'm finally taking the plunge and this blog will be where I'll air out the progress of chasing my dreams.