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Roots One of my favorite books turned into a TV miniseries was “Roots,” penned by the late Alex Haley. It was televised over a period of several nights in 1977. For the few of you who haven’t read or watched the story, the author traced his African-American heritage back over three hundred years to slaves in Africa. Over a period of time, the story chronicled the trials and tribulations of Haley’s ancestors throughout the early history of the U.S., with some highly colorful characters thrown in. It was breath-taking in its depth and scope. I recommend it. Getting into the roots of our motorcycling passion, without minimizing the importance of Haley’s work, you may wonder what seminal tastes and preferences, formed early in your life, dictate what you ride now. Got a modern Triumph Bonneville, or one of the latest iterations of Indian motorcycles? How about the now-defunct (again) Excelsior-Henderson, or the Rotax-milled Matchless? Got that weird but exotic re-birthed Laverda or even an India-produced Royal Enfield? Without besmirching the Harley-Davidson crowd’s preference for the timeless and classic look, don’t you just feel the history while riding yours? I had the pleasure of attending the highly eclectic motorcycle gathering at the fairgrounds in San Jose on March 28. It’s called the Annual Clubman’s All British Show, but it has greatly expanded over the past few years. Now there’s a separate hall for other European brands, yet another for vintage Asian brands, and a fourth hall for noisy indoor races. I’ve been attending this event since 1983, back when it was just the British stuff, and a few hundred Britwits packed a single building. But at the 2009 meet, there were thousands in attendance. Even the parking lots, among my favorite photo-op locales, were packed with goodies to admire. I’ll confess – the attendees seemed to generally be in the demographic of long-time enthusiasts who are still in awe of electric starters, turn signals, and disc brakes. People like myself. I can imagine the post-event cleaning crew, sweeping up remnants of white hair, hearing aid batteries, and Metamucil discount coupons. Talkin’ ‘bout my g, g, g, generation. Every year this event has a different focal marque. In 2008, there was a bagpiper stationed near the Rudge display. Lots of Nortons dominated that show, including the factory’s very last rotary touring machine (which looked like a BMW K100LT). This year, however, it was an Ariel-dominated event. One of the worker bees told me that there were probably eighty Ariels, maybe thirty-five of which were Square Fours. There was even something called a Two-by-Four, in which two Square Four engines were mounted. Looked like one of the old drag strip monsters of olde. You’ve seen photos of this beast in a recent issue of CityBike, compliments of photographer Bob Stokstad. This show has always been, for me, one of the highlights of every year. There’s always a raffle bike at this event. This time it was a beautiful Norton Commando in black with gold trim. And lucky Ray McCurdy of Ukiah won it on one of the many one-dollar tickets. I don’t know Ray’s age, but I hope he didn’t suffer a cardiac episode upon learning of his good fortune. I certainly would – or at least a rapid evacuation of lower intestinal tract contents. I couldn’t help but wonder, looking at the many attendees, what got them into this particular category of motorcycle interest. Why the foreign classics? After all, shops that work on vintage bikes are now rather scarce. A few specialists can be found here and there, but not to the point that a mechanically-challenged owner would feel comfy using a classic as a daily rider. Or as my uncles Ed and Hank once said to me in 1976 when I got a used 1973 850 Fiat Spider at a cheap price: “don’t rely on this thing.” Fun – yes. dependable – not a chance. It did let me down; but just like a classic bike, it provided jollies in between breakdowns. Analyzing the mystique of what got us enthused about classic bikes, I can’t help but wonder if we are the products of some primordial urge, beyond our intellect. Drum roll -- a strange coincidence occurred when a couple of magazines rolled into our mail box on the same day, stacked on top of each other, as you can see here: Maybe there’s something to be said about all this. Although CityBike is not published in color, take my word for it that both cover subjects are in shades of bronze and copper. Both are facing stage right, skeletal in configuration, and aggressive in deportment. On the right, starring T Rex, we have the “Smithsonian” magazine. On the left is “Ultimate Motorcycling,” formerly known as “Robb Report Motorcycle,” with a highly customized beast powered by a breathed-upon vee-twin motor. Both subjects are artfully depicted in glorious ferocity. Neither publication shares editors, staff, or publishers. Eerie enough? Both magazines, independent of each other, featured cover shots of objects that dazzle. And by serendipitous chance, they have too many similarities to escape our view without comment. Re-asserting the question – what are some factors that dictate our preferences or interests? Perhaps we may never know the why; rather, we might settle for just knowing the what. Observing the massive attendance at the San Jose meet, there was clearly something in the air. Something that grabed a whole lot of folks from back in the day, even before many of them were born. There is another opportunity, on the immediate horizon, to search out our motorcycle roots. On June 20, 2009, consider attending the Antique Motorcycle Show and Swap Meet at the Solano County fairgrounds in Dixon. In addition to vendors selling parts and souvenirs, there will be a judged bike show, followed by a gymkhana whereby old riders kick their T-Rexes into life and compete on a coned course. The sights, sounds, and smells bring back memories to all of us attending. Be there in the morning, because it often heats up early and the events of the day wait for nobody. This is an annual event that I’ve attended for at least a quarter-century. It’s hosted by the Fort Sutter chapter of the Antique Motorcycle Club of America (check out the AMCA website for the complete yearly schedule of events). If you can get to this event, I offer two suggestions: (1) Check out the parking lots for spectators’ vehicular eye candy, and (2) Consider if anything you see there triggers a “roots moment” for you. It could do more for you than flipping through a magazine. Just don’t trip over any lost paleontologists. |