I’m assigned the West edition and Barnett Magazine’s photojournalist Jack Cofano, the East edition. I passed on the cross-country race, ride, and tour. I rode cross-country for many years on a variety of bikes from a Norton to Beemers to Harleys. I only had two wheels and one three-wheeler back then (No, not a trike, but a BMW/Steib side-hack) and a bike was my only means of getting around to the events. Now I ride ‘cause I get pleasure outta putting. So I speak with experience about the mass putt by these brave souls (freakin’ nuts) making this run fromArizona toNorth Carolina. I wished them best of luck, the wind to be at their backs, and that they stayed safe on this insane ride.

Any-who, the weekend started with a party at The Foundry inPhoenix. The Foundry is situated on about an acre of desert just off I-17 andGlendale. A big steel-sided shed with palm trees and totem pole carvings and a spacious motorcycle-building facility where some creative guys build their imaginations. We met up with the staff of the event and Roadside Marty (who is known for being the chief bike show judge and mike mouth at Willie’s Tropical Tattoo shows) who is now the head of security and mouth of the wet and wild T-shirt competition for the Smoke Outs.

Friday morning under blazingArizonadesert sun, the vendors and builders checked in and set up. I hid in the shade trying to make some photographs for you all to enjoy. At 5 PM the gates opened and the people rode in, drove in, and walked in to see and to be seen. There was some good music and other events I can’t mention in this family magazine and it cooled off a bit. Saturday was a great day with tire kicking, schmoozing, and bullsh*ting. Bikes were the attraction along with music. Drinking was under the watchful eyes of the Cottonwood PD. One cop was standing with a great looking dog and when I put my hand out to it, the cop snapped at me freaking out, “Don’t touch my dog,” he growled. I said, “Christ, don’t have a foolish heart attack,” and walked off.