These days, I’ve become so enthralled by all the great motorcycle roads around the world and on my bucket list that I forget about the ones close to home. For this ride, I retraced steps from my early riding days with a 140‑­mile Tennessee motorcycle loop around my hometown of Dover, which is located on the Cumberland River about 30 miles west of Clarksville and, as the crow flies, a little over 60 miles northwest of Nashville.

Scan QR code above or click here to view the route on REVER

I was joined by my husband, Jake, on his Can‑­Am Ryker Rally, and I was aboard a Honda Rebel 1100T DCT test bike.

Related:

• 2023 Can-Am Ryker Rally Review | Road Test
• 2023 Honda Rebel 1100T DCT and Returning Models | First Look Review

We started out at the Dyers Creek boat ramp, just across the river from downtown Dover. Then we rode across U.S. Route 79 and onto Bumpus Mills Road. This road has some of the best curves of the loop – the perfect way to get our blood pumping at the beginning of the ride.

When we got to the end of the road at the junction with State Route 120, we turned north and stopped at the family‑­owned Bumpus Meals Diner. We had hoped to pop in for a bite of their handmade desserts and a cup of coffee, but the diner was closed that day as the family and staff were enjoying the Thanksgiving weekend.

Oh well, onwards we went. The next stretch of the ride took us into Kentucky on State Route 139. It can be tempting to pick up the speed on this road, but we knew we couldn’t get too carried away. Much of this land is farmed by Amish communities, and you never know when you’ll run up behind a horse‑­drawn buggy just over the next hill.

An optional spur is to take a right on State Route 164 and visit the Oak Ridge Country Store. We love their homemade cheeses, deli sandwiches, and local canned and pickled foods. There are other stops along the road where you can purchase smoked meats, honey, fresh produce, and other goods.

We continued our Tennessee motorcycle loop north until we came to U.S. Route 68, where we turned west for 15 miles and rode over the Cumberland River and into Land Between the Lakes National Recreation Area. We turned south at the Woodlands Trace National Scenic Byway, also known as The Trace (not to be confused with the Natchez Trace Parkway, which runs between Nashville and Natchez, Mississippi).

The Trace is a beautiful road that runs right through the center of LBL. Along the way are the Golden Pond Visitors Center and Planetarium, picnic areas, a bison range, campgrounds, the Turkey Bay OHV Area, and the Homeplace 1850s Working Farm and Living History Museum.

We continued through LBL and back toward Dover. At the end of The Trace, we turned west on U.S. Route 79 and popped in at Brien Dill’s Piggly Wiggly. I worked at this grocery store throughout high school and college and still enjoy stopping by to visit with past coworkers and the owner, Brien, who rides a BMW R 1250 GS Adventure and loves chatting about motorcycles.

Down the highway about 6 miles, we turned south onto State Route 232, also known as the “Baby Dragon.” Unlike the famous 11‑­mile road in East Tennessee with a similar name, the Baby Dragon doesn’t have tight, technical curves, but it has plenty of long sweepers with good visibility. By the time we got to the end of the Baby Dragon, we were getting hungry, so we stopped at Southernaire Motel & Restaurant for a meatloaf plate with turnip greens and black‑­eyed peas.

After a tasty lunch, we continued east through the towns of Stewart, Tennessee Ridge, and Erin until we got to Cumberland City, where candy‑­striped steam stacks from the TVA power plant stretch up into the sky. We rode down to the ferry, paid 75 cents (tickets are $1 for out‑­of‑­state motorcycles), and hopped over the river.

The last leg of this route goes through Indian Mound, the part of Stewart County where I grew up. Maybe I’m biased, but this is my favorite portion of this favorite ride. The roads through the Mound rise up over ridges and snake down along creeks and past fields of cattle. The last road is Old Highway 79, the curviest road of the loop.

At the end of Old Highway 79, you’ll find yourself back on U.S. Route 79 and just a stone’s throw away from the boat ramp where we began this route. Revisiting these roads and stops that have always been a part of my life gave me a renewed appreciation for my community and town. Sure, there are places in the world with more dramatic views and more exciting roads, but at the end of the day, these are the roads I’ll always come back to.

Tennessee Motorcycle Loop Resources

• Tennessee Tourism
• Land Between the Lakes Natl. Rec. Area

The post Small Town Tennessee Motorcycle Loop | Favorite Ride appeared first on Rider Magazine.

This is a tale of two amazing rides. One threads its way through some of Northern California’s beautiful wine, lake, and hill country. The other winds its way through my very being to the center of my heart. 

Recently, my wife and I traveled to California’s Sonoma wine country to attend a ceremony in which our son‑­in‑­law, Lt. Col. Joffre Lander, assumed command of a squadron at Travis Air Force Base. Since I don’t like to be far from a motorcycle when traveling, I took my BMW G 650 X‑­Country along for the trip. 

A Wine Country Loop

During a lull in the military and familial activities, I snuck the BMW out for a loop ride through the golden hills and grapevine‑­lined terrain in the Sonoma region. I rolled out of Vacaville on Interstate 80 to reach the sweeping corners of narrow, scenic Wooden Valley Road, which is lined by trees and passes through rolling grasslands and vineyards. 

The turn onto State Route 121 provided even more varied terrain as rock outcroppings added texture to the ride. Various wineries staked their claims with stone archways and beckoning signage. As SR-121 morphed into State Route 12 on my approach to the town of Sonoma, the density of wineries increased.

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When I threw down my kickstand at Sonoma Plaza, I had no idea of the historical significance of the town of just over 10,000 souls. Across the street from the beautiful centerpiece park rests the Sonoma State Historic Park, which is a cluster of historic sites. It’s an open and easy stroll through locations like the Mission San Francisco Solano, Sonoma Barracks, Toscano Hotel & Kitchen, and other fascinating buildings. 

After walking back to the vibrant green shade of the 8‑­acre Sonoma Plaza, I stood in the shadow of the impressive Bear Flag Monument, which commemorates the spot where the Bear Flag Party raised the Bear Flag and declared California free from Mexican rule in 1846. After a walk around Sonoma City Hall in the center of the plaza, I continued my clockwise loop ride. 

See all of Rider‘s California U.S. tour stories here.

SR‑­12 led me to Trinity Road and other narrow, winding byways that are thoroughly entertaining, curvaceous rolls beneath trees, beside cliffs, and over hills, often with panoramic views. 

After passing through Oakville and Rutherford, I headed farther east on State Route 128. This stretch was arguably the most beautiful part of an already spectacular ride. I rolled past Lake Hennessy, Lake Berryessa, and several family wineries. Finally, I headed south back to Vacaville and to my daughter’s home. Would this be the end of my tale? Hardly.

A First Long Ride

In 2011, I welcomed my first granddaughter into this world. I vividly remember the overwhelming love I felt when I held little Skya for the first time. The tiny black‑­haired treasure in my arms was so perfect and so lovely that I was instantly and indelibly smitten. 

Over the dozen years since she was born, I have taken Skya on many short motorcycle rides around the yard or the block with her planted securely in front of me on the saddle. She has grown from a fragile cherub to a vibrant, smart, lovely pre‑­teen, and motorcycle rides have been a vital part of our deep and loving connection. 

On this occasion, Skya was waiting when I rolled into my daughter’s garage. As we sat and talked, it became clear she was ready for her first longer motorcycle ride. Parental permission was secured, and I fitted Skya in my wife’s riding gear. We discussed what it takes to be a safe and secure passenger on the back of a motorcycle.

With a wave to her mother and grandmother, Skya and I headed north for a loop ride. Almost instantly, she found the groove and became a settled “sack of potatoes” on the back of the BMW. The repeated portion of my earlier route took on a new significance as I could feel the wonder Skya was experiencing. She would occasionally tap me to point things out, and as we flipped up our faceshields to talk, I could see the joy in her green eyes. 

We stopped often to decide on routes, take in views, and just chat. At one stop, I pointed out the smooth, pale hills on the horizon. I mentioned that they reminded me of Hills Like White Elephants, a short story by Ernest Hemingway, and I recommended that she read it someday. Back on the motorcycle, Skya chose the routes, including a long road to a dead end that gave us both a laugh. 

I have ridden thousands of miles in my lifetime, and the miles that Skya and I shared that day are some of the most significant. We agreed that when she gets a few more years under her belt, we will reconvene for an extended ride. We can’t wait.

See all of Rider‘s touring stories here.

Sonoma Motorcycle Rides Resources

• Sonoma County Tourism
• Sonoma State Historic Park

The post Sonoma Motorcycle Rides, On My Own and With Family | Favorite Ride appeared first on Rider Magazine.

January can be a cruel month for motorcyclists. Even in sunny southern climates, chilly temperatures can make extended rides an exercise in discomfort. That’s why I make an annual winter sojourn south to the land of tequila and tacos for some riding and music at the January Jam in Puerto Peñasco – or Rocky Point – Mexico.

After topping off my tank at the lone American border gas station in Lukeville, Arizona, pleasant ambient temperatures mixed comfortably with radiating heat from the cylinders of my BMW GS as I idled in the slow parade at the border crossing. Rumble strips, remote cameras, armed agents, and concrete barriers marked the intimidating border security protocol.

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My anxiety was tempered by the knowledge that I had my ducks in a row. I had purchased my three-day Mexican motorcycle insurance, and I had my passport, registration, and license handy. The camouflaged border agent motioned for me to lift my tinted faceshield and then waved me through. Just like that, I was in hustling, bustling Sonoyta. Men rushed at cars with squeegees, women held up packages of tortillas for sale, and traffic was frenetic. 

I knew what to do in this dusty border town. I kept my head on a swivel and rode below the posted speed limit. Local police cluster by the border and on the southern fringe of town with eagle eyes for tourists who drive like they are still in the U.S. It is not a cheap ticket if you get stopped.

Sonoyta has the colorful, informal vibe of most Mexican towns, but I kept riding south. While the temperature back home in Arizona was hovering in the 40s, I smiled as the reading on my dash indicated 72. Yep, just what the doctor ordered.

Related: Baja Enlightenment: Riding Mexico’s Lower California Peninsula

On Highway 8 toward Puerto Peñasco, I passed dozens of descansos (“resting places” in Spanish), memorials that are intriguing, sobering, and often quite beautiful. They range from miniature concrete shrines to thematic collages. One honored a Dallas Cowboys fan.

I also passed a sign that read “Hassle Free Vehicle Zone.” Uninformed tourists often mistake these signs to mean relaxed traffic and speed rules. Not true, my friends. They just mean fewer paperwork regulations for tourist travel.  

The road from the border to Puerto Peñasco is straight and barren, but there is something to be said for an open-throttle roll through the warm desert in the dead of winter.

At the end of this 70-mile stretch, I came upon a group of Mexican sportbikers who were chatting along the dusty roadside. The half dozen crotch-rocketeers waved and saluted as I approached. They were more than happy to pose for a photo for a lone gringo moto-tourist before pulling a group U-turn and roaring back toward the coast. 

Just as Puerto Peñasco/Rocky Point goes by both Mexican and English names, it has two distinct personalities. There is the old town itself, teeming with street vendors, rusted vehicles, and colorful buildings, exuding the character of a traditional fishing village. Street taco stands waft aromatic clouds, and small motorcycles mounted with massive transport containers serve as delivery vehicles. 

Then there is the new, mostly American-owned resort community in Sandy Beach north of town. Upscale resorts line the blue waters of the Sea of Cortez. What Sandy Beach lacks in traditional character, it replaces with comfort and safety for international tourists. 

Both locations served as staging points for my weekend’s activities during the January Jam, which is the brainchild of Roger Clyne, the charismatic front man for Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers. Clyne is an entertainer with a voluminous catalog of great songs and an enthusiastic following in the Southwest and beyond. 

For the jam, Clyne assembles a lineup of accomplished musicians and invites fans to congregate in Puerto Peñasco for three days of music, golf, and general reverie. Music fills the sea air, and tequila flows, especially Clyne’s own premium spirit, Canción, fittingly named after the Spanish word for “song.” 

There are daily and nightly concerts at Clyne’s watering hole, Banditos, as well as performances at other venues in Sandy Beach and Rocky Point. We enjoyed the familiar tunes of Clyne’s band as well as David Lowery of Cracker, the Mexican-influenced sounds of The Jons from Tucson, and the lively rock blend of Miles Neilson and the Rusted Heart.

After a weekend of sampling traditional Mexican food, listening to great music, and riding to nearby fishing villages, the time came to head back north. It was over too soon.

January Jam Favorite Ride Resources

• Mexico Motorcycle Insurance
• January Jam
• Banditos
• Sonoran Sea Resort

The post Rolling to the January Jam in Rocky Point, Mexico | Favorite Ride appeared first on Rider Magazine.

When the leaves tremble with their last days of color and the north winds begin to blow, I want to seize the day and take a ride before the snowflakes fly. I like to experience a variety of roads and sights all within the limited daylight of late fall. Northern New Jersey has great roads that ramble through state forests, around reservoirs and farms, and into small towns, making for a superb day ride.

I had plotted a route for this trip, but soon after my ride began, I saw a road sign that warned: APPLE SEASON HEAVY TRAFFIC. The last thing I wanted was to be stuck in the middle of a traffic jam surrounded by carloads of apple‑­picking tourists slowly swarming toward orchards, so I threw out my itinerary and decided to go wherever the road and my gut told me.

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Rolling up Abram S. Hewitt State Forest’s Bearfort Ridge on the serpentine Warwick Turnpike, I avoided the congestion by taking the forest‑­enveloped Clinton Road, which snakes through a large section of the 35,000‑­acre Pequannock Watershed. There are four reservoirs open for public recreation, and the area is crisscrossed by mountain trails and home to all manner of wildlife. 

Clinton Road and its surrounding wilderness have a somewhat creepy reputation for ghost sightings, witch gatherings, weird animal hybrids, and at least one infamous serial killer. I was attracted to this particular stretch on my New Jersey backroads motorcycle ride because it was recently repaved and weaves alongside the sun-kissed reservoirs and through colorful forests, but the area’s notoriety added to its allure.

Several boat launches and parking areas provided opportunities to stretch my legs and drink in the scenery. Some riders are tempted to white‑­knuckle it through the many twisties of Clinton Road, but I don’t recommend it. During the late fall rutting season, deer are hyperactive and as plentiful as flies on a cow patty. Besides, a slow cruise gives you time to appreciate the beauty.

See all of Rider‘s Northeast U.S. tour stories here.

However, as I turned off Clinton Road and rode west on the mostly rural State Route 23, I ramped up the pace. The crisp, pure air caressing my face was invigorating. At Hamburg, I picked up State Route 94. Rumbling south, I spotted the Northern New Jersey Veterans Memorial Cemetery and stopped to pay my respects. Walking through the cemetery, you cannot help but be overwhelmed with emotion and appreciation for those who served our country and now rest in this hallowed ground. 

Continuing south, SR‑­94 passes through Newton, a bustling small town, and then into lush farmland, with New Jersey’s western mountains rising on the horizon like a fortress wall.

In Blairstown, I stopped for lunch at the Blairstown Diner, which has been family owned and operated for over 70 years and has tasty food and authentic retro decor. The diner was featured in the original Friday the 13th film, and in the hills of nearby Hardwick, Boy Scout Camp No‑­Be‑­Bo‑­Sco stood in for the film’s major setting, Camp Crystal Lake.

From Blairstown, I wound my way north on the rolling County Road 521, stopping briefly at the scenic White Lake Natural Resource Area and the historic Vass Farmstead. Built in 1812 and listed in the National Registry of Historic Places, it is worth a stop.

At Stillwater, I turned left onto County Road 617 and then followed a series of other rural roads. My Vulcan handled these wavy and weaving routes through farmland and forests with cool confidence. By the time I reached SR‑­23 again, the sun was hanging low in the western sky. Heading south, I cracked the whip on my Vulcan and enjoyed its pulsating power as we rode down the highway.

As I exited onto the tree‑­lined County Road 513, my journey neared its end. Although my route was impromptu, the ride was perfect. Cruising on great roads through the beautiful countryside during the fall reminded me what riding is meant to be: unfettered by plans and going with the flow. There definitely will be more freewheeling rides in my future. As Peter Fonda’s sage old biker character Damien Blade said in Wild Hogs, “Lose the watches.”

See all of Rider‘s touring stories here.

New Jersey Backroads Motorcycle Ride Resources:

• New Jersey Tourism Bureau
• Northern NJ Veterans Memorial Cemetery
• Blairstown Diner
• White Lake Natural Resource Area
• Vass Farmstead

The post A New Jersey Backroads Motorcycle Ride in Fall | Favorite Ride appeared first on Rider Magazine.

Moab, Utah, is an ideal destination for a motorcycle trip. Where else can you find sandstone arches, red‑­walled canyons, snow‑­capped mountains, scenic byways, two national parks, and a fun, adventure‑­ready town? The best time to visit is in the spring or fall because it’s often too hot in the summer and roads can get icy in the winter.

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Since I live in Denver, on the other side of the Rockies, part of the fun of visiting Moab is simply getting there. Heading west out of the city, U.S. Route 285 climbs the Front Range before passing through mountain towns like Conifer (8,277 feet), Bailey (7,740 feet), and Fairplay (9,954 feet).

Riding through the Rockies means going over mountain passes, and on the way to Fairplay, you’ll cruise over Kenosha Pass (9,997 feet) and Red Hill Pass (9,993 feet) before descending into a broad valley. Such grand vistas across open range show the true beauty of Colorado. Fairplay is an old mining town named after the notion that all miners should have an equal chance to stake a claim. It’s home to South Park City, an open‑­air museum preserving a 19th century mining town, including over 40 original buildings and thousands of artifacts from the boomtown days.

Continuing south on U.S. 285, the road becomes U.S. Route 24 at Antero Junction and goes south and then north through Buena Vista (7,925 feet) and Granite (9,012 feet). At Twin Lakes, turning west on State Route 82 takes you across the Continental Divide at Independence Pass (12,095 feet), where the air is thin and always chilly.

The long, winding descent to the ski town of Aspen is pure pleasure. SR‑­82 ends at Glenwood Springs, and the next 134 westward miles follow a curving section of Interstate 70. If you have the time, I recommend the scenic Rim Rock Drive through the Colorado National Monument among the high cliffs above Grand Junction.

See all of Rider‘s Colorado touring stories here.

After crossing into Utah, take the first Moab exit for State Route 128, which is a scenic byway that winds through a majestic red rock canyon carved by the Colorado River. Highlights include the stunning Fisher Tower and Castle Rock, a finger‑­like spiral to the southwest that’s been seen in many films and commercials. 

At milepost 14 on SR‑­128 is the Red Cliffs Lodge, built on the old George White Ranch, another location used in many Western films. If you’re a cowboy fan like me, visit the lodge’s Moab Museum of Film and Western Heritage to see production stills, movie posters, autographed scripts, props from movies filmed nearby, and displays about Western heritage. Lunch or dinner at The Cowboy Grill is highly recommended.

The key attractions in Moab are Arches and Canyonlands national parks. Arches, located just a few miles north of town, is the more popular of the two, and the nearly 20‑­mile paved road through the park takes you past a stunning array of sandstone arches, petrified dunes, and red rock formations.

Canyonlands is the largest national park in Utah, and its diversity staggers the imagination. The park is 32 miles from Moab and has 20 miles of paved roads with many pullouts offering spectacular views. The Island in the Sky sits atop a massive 1,500‑­foot‑­high mesa, and on a clear day you can see over 100 miles in any direction. Sunrise and sunset are particularly beautiful times of day to enjoy these panoramic views of canyon country.  

Scenic State Route 313 leads to both Canyonlands and Dead Horse Point State Park, which offers unforgettable views of deep canyons and cliffs overlooking the Colorado River. I recommend taking time to explore side trails to see different viewpoints in this one‑­of‑­a‑­kind area.

See all of Rider‘s Utah touring stories here.

The La Sal Mountain Loop, a 36‑­mile scenic road that starts at SR‑­128 near Red Cliffs Lodge and goes through Castle Valley, up into the La Sal Mountains, and then back down to Moab near Spanish Valley, is another great local ride.

Moab is an ideal base camp for lodging, dining, and other adventures such as whitewater rafting, hiking, mountain biking, and off‑­road riding and driving (you can rent Jeeps, ATVs, and side‑­by‑­sides). One of my favorite places to stay is the Red Stone Inn, a rustic but clean and affordable motel with a communal hot tub and picnic area and rooms with a TV, free wi‑­fi, and a mini kitchen.

Whether you travel across the Colorado Rockies, through the red‑­rock canyons of southern Utah, or take some other route to get there, put Moab on your “must visit” list. I promise you won’t be disappointed.

See all of Rider‘s touring stories here.

Denver to Moab Motorcycle Trip Resources:

• South Park City Museum, Fairplay, Colorado
• Colorado National Monument
• Discover Moab, Utah
• Red Cliffs Lodge
• Red Stone Inn
• Arches National Park
• Canyonlands National Park
• Dead Horse Point State Park

The post Motoring from Denver to Moab | Favorite Ride appeared first on Rider Magazine.

This Favorite Ride doesn’t include a route map because it’s all about a single destination: the corner of 300 Road and 600 Street in Moonshine, Illinois. Getting there is a personal experience for every rider who makes the Moonshine Lunch Run.

You may recall the story I wrote about the last official Moonshine Lunch Run, which took place on April 29, 2018. But on that day, as I gathered with other long‑­distance riders outside the Moonshine Store, munching my Moonburger under a cool Illinois rain, I sensed it wasn’t the end.

Related: Reflections on the Moonshine Lunch Run

The original concept for the MLR, conceived by our late farmer friend Terry Hammond, just required folks to ride from somewhere far. Terry knew certain people would make the long, often difficult ride to Moonshine to connect with other riders who’d do the same. The hamburgers were great, but the fellowship of long‑­distance riders mattered most.

Earlier this year, Bob Cust of Swansea, Illinois, announced he was hosting an RTE (ride-to-­eat) at the Moonshine Store. I shared this with Steve Efthyvoulou, who first brought me to Moonshine in 2010. “I’m in,” he said immediately. We reached out to other MLR alums, including Michael Boucher and Randy Bridgewater, plus newbie Chuck Smolka. All in.

Folks who’ve done a ride to Moonshine understand its special challenges of long distance, changeable weather, and physical endurance. For me, Moonshine has been the eventual destination of multiple April rides that had me leaving Massachusetts and then joining friends to carve mountain roads in Pennsylvania, Virginia, West Virginia, North Carolina, Tennessee, or Kentucky on the way to southeastern Illinois. Moonshine was a waypoint on some trips to more distant riding regions, like the Ozark Mountains of Missouri and Arkansas, and I earned my Iron Butt certification on the Curt Gran Memorial Moonshine 1000.

If you want a genuine Moonshine Lunch Run experience, you really need to ride there during April, when Terry Hammond invited folks to come. The temperature could plunge below freezing, but it might also reach 90. You can count on rain, and snow is possible. It’s also tornado season; one year, a twister touched down a few miles from our motel. The sun might even shine!

Last April, my ninth run to Moonshine was on backroads through the Connecticut Berkshires and New York’s Hudson Valley, over the hills of northern New Jersey, across Pennsylvania’s northern tier, and then onto the increasingly flat, open spaces of rural Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois.

Yes, more people visit southeastern Illinois for summer activities. The fairgrounds in DuQuoin host a race in the American Flat Track motorcycle racing series. The Illinois 300 NASCAR Cup race takes place in Madison. There are celebrations for German heritage in Waterloo and Hoyleton, Swiss heritage in Highland, and roots music and barbeque in Mt. Carmel. There are sailing events, a world trapshooting championship, art fairs, music festivals, county fairs, and much more.

Since I’ve always ridden to Illinois in April, I haven’t experienced summertime there. But I’ve enjoyed visiting the town of Casey, some 14 miles from Moonshine and home of the world’s largest mailbox, pencil, pitchfork, wind chimes, rocking chair, golf tee, and other oversized curiosities. Since my last visit, someone added the world’s largest antlers. Every MLR has brought me to Casey, and getting there always involves varying degrees of challenge. Other riders who made it overcame their own challenges. As Terry would say, we “get it.”

Since the MLR is no longer an official event, there weren’t 1,000‑­plus riders like before. This time there were a few dozen, with the largest contingent being members of the Motorcycle Tourer’s Forum. But as I’ve come to expect, the effort to get there – and to connect with other riders who did the same – was well-rewarded.

I ran into Mike Brown of Harrisburg, North Carolina, whom I’d seen at multiple MLRs. “If you have been there, you want to go back,” he said. “If you haven’t been there, you need to go!” Mike brought along a first‑­timer, Bob Sweet of Concord, North Carolina. Unlike most riders who come on touring bikes, Bob made his first ride to Moonshine on a naked bike, his 2021 Triumph Street Triple 765 R.

“When we left Harrisburg at 4 a.m., it was dark and drizzly,” Bob told me. “I couldn’t tell Mike ‘I can’t do this.’ I got over the mental barrier, and here I am.” Bob gets it!

I met Darryl Halbert, who has been to every MLR since 2011, though somehow our paths never crossed. He used to live in Atlanta, Georgia, and his ride to Moonshine would include entertaining curves through the Appalachian Mountains. He’s retired now and living in Denver, Colorado, so he rode to Moonshine across the plains. “There’s a lot of Kansas between here and Colorado,” he chuckled.

I also met Greg Rice, a genuine legend in the long‑­distance rider community, who told me about another “lunch run” he had made. As the Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, resident recalled, “I wanted to take a picture of my bike by the Panama Canal.” So Greg rode to Panama. He got the picture and had a burger for lunch. His round trip took 10 days.

Related podcast interviews

• Greg Rice: Ep. 29 Rider Magazine Insider Podcast
• Scott A. Williams | Ep. 41 Rider Magazine Insider Podcast

Significantly, some MLR traditions carried on this year, like dinner at Richard’s Farm on Friday evening and Renee Handelman’s cinnamon buns on Saturday morning. I enjoyed my Moonburger with cheese and bacon at a picnic table beside the Moonshine Store with other riders, and it was good. Soon after, my group began our rides home to Texas, Michigan, New Jersey, Connecticut, and Massachusetts.

Riding east together, Steve and I endured the wettest day in our combined Moonshine history. Over dinner in a warm, dry restaurant, we laughed about it. Adventure is just discomfort retold at leisure, and we’ve had our share of adventure on our runs to Moonshine. Bone-chilling cold. Scorching heat. Nasty storms. Roads that became rock-strewn goat paths despite maps promising otherwise.

Was this year’s Moonshine Lunch Run just like old times? Not exactly. But it was today’s version of good times, shared with other long-distance riders who get it. I expect Terry would be good with that.

See all of Rider‘s touring stories here.

The post The Return of the Moonshine Lunch Run | Favorite Ride appeared first on Rider Magazine.

Pancake flat. That’s an accurate description for most of Arkansas’ Mississippi River Delta. The delta contains historically interesting and culturally significant places to visit, but it’s also home to a unique geological feature that offers a great Arkansas motorcycle ride through beautiful, heavily forested landscapes. This geological feature is called Crowley’s Ridge, and it rises as much as 550 feet above the fertile delta farmland.

Scan QR code above or click here to view the route on REVER

Toward the end of the last ice age, the confluence of the Mississippi and Ohio rivers shifted 190 miles north into Illinois. This change left a 150-mile-long, 15-mile-wide motorcycle playground in the middle of an otherwise flat delta, 110 miles of which is in Arkansas.

To most travelers on Interstate 40 between Little Rock and Memphis, Crowley’s Ridge is an easy-to-miss rise in elevation. But for those looking for an enjoyable Arkansas motorcycle ride, you can find serpentine pavement by traveling the length of the ridge. Mix in the delta’s historic and cultural sites, and a tour of Crowley’s Ridge becomes an attractive proposition.

A riding buddy visiting from Florida, Matt Terry, and I began our tour of Crowley’s Ridge on its southern end, in Helena. Here, the ridge begins in dramatic fashion, overlooking the city’s riverfront on the Mississippi.

Helena was an important site during the Civil War. Fort Curtis is located halfway up the ridge above Helena’s downtown. It was coveted – and occupied at different times – by both Confederate troops and Union soldiers. The fort could effectively control boat traffic up and down the river for whomever held this important high ground.

On Cherry Street in downtown Helena is the Delta Cultural Center, which celebrates the rich history of the delta and is home to the KFFA King Biscuit Time studio, where the daily 12:15 p.m. broadcast is made. King Biscuit Time began in 1941 and became an important venue in the development of the delta’s many African American blues musicians. It also happens to be the longest-running broadcast program in the nation, and blues fans from around the world travel to Helena to attend live broadcasts of this historic show.

From Helena, we rode north along the eastern edge of the ridge on Arkansas Highway 44. If you’re a fan of Food Network, then you probably know that winning the culinary world’s prestigious James Beard Award is akin to winning an Oscar or a Grammy. Arkansas’ first James Beard Award winner was Harold Jones, and his family restaurant is in Marianna.

The Jones family started the Hole-in-the-Wall around 1910. The name was changed to Jones Bar-B-Q Diner in 1964, when it moved from downtown to its current location on West Louisiana Street. The small dining room has only one large table and one small table, so takeout is popular.

“Mr. Harold,” as locals call him, serves any kind of barbecue you want – as long as it’s pulled pork, either in a sandwich or by the pound. His great-grandmother’s sauce recipe, which dates to Civil War times, is a thin, sweet vinegar-based sauce that’s delicious on their sandwiches, which are served on white bread with or without coleslaw.

We continued north on AR 1 and 1B. Just south of Forrest City, we enjoyed a twisty out-and-back spur on AR 334. North of Forrest City on AR 1 is Colt, birthplace of the “Silver Fox,” Grammy Award-winning singer Charlie Rich. We bypassed Colt, curving and cornering our way northeast on AR 284. The road runs through a landscape reminiscent of my home in the Ozarks, with nice sweepers and scenic, heavily wooded terrain.

After riding along the western edge of Village Creek State Park, we jogged east on County Road 720 and then went north again on AR 163, a mostly winding and always scenic highway. We made our way northwest to Vanndale so we could enjoy the curves of AR 364 on our way back to AR 163.

From Birdeye, we rode west on AR 42 to Cherry Valley, bending around curves nearly the entire way. For another musical connection, you can take AR 42 east from Birdeye to the tiny delta community of Twist, where blues legend B.B. King first named his Gibson guitar “Lucille.”

King was playing a gig at a juke joint in Twist when two men began fighting and overturned a kerosene heater, setting the building ablaze. Two patrons were killed. King rushed back into the inferno to retrieve his Gibson and realized he, too, could have died.

From that point on, King named all his guitars Lucille to remind himself of two things: First, never go back into a burning building to save a guitar. Second, no woman is worth fighting over. (The two men were fighting over a woman named Lucille.) A commemorative plaque marks the spot.

We stayed on AR 163 for quite a while, eventually reconnecting with AR 1B just south of Jonesboro. We rode north out of Jonesboro on AR 141, which runs along the western side of the ridge. Though it’s not on the top of the ridge, it is a scenic ride along the seam between the delta and Crowley’s Ridge.

At Walcott, we turned northeast to Crowley’s Ridge State Park, the former homestead of Benjamin Crowley, an early settler in the area and namesake for the ridge. His property became an Arkansas state park in the 1930s, and it offers cabins, camping, hiking trails, picnic facilities, a swimming lake, and a native stone CCC-era pavilion.

Arkansas is one of those states where more famous riding areas in the Ozarks overshadow hidden gems like Crowley’s Ridge. The roads may not be as steep and the curves not as sharp, but they provide plenty of enjoyment. There are also numerous secondary roads, both paved and unpaved, which make the area great for adventure touring. Add in the rich cultural and musical history of the area and you’ve got a winning destination.

Arkansas Motorcycle Ride: Crowley’s Ridge Resources

• Arkansas Department of Parks, Heritage, and Tourism
• Delta Cultural Center
• Village Creek State Park
• Crowley’s Ridge State Park

The post Arkansas Motorcycle Ride on Crowley’s Ridge | Favorite Ride appeared first on Rider Magazine.

As I reached for the pump handle to fill up at the start of this trip, I suddenly realized my hydration pack wasn’t on my back. Doubt flooded in, and I wondered if this trip on the Trans Wisconsin Adventure Trail was a bad idea. After returning home to retrieve my pack, I scolded myself for failing right out of the gate.

The Trans Wisconsin Adventure Trail is also known as the TWAT, a term I use for “one who tweets” and the British use for an obnoxious person. Though not a term one hears in polite company, this TWAT is a 635-mile dual-sport and adventure motorcycle route that runs from the Illinois/Wisconsin border in the south to the shore of Lake Superior in the north. There are no maps of the route, but you can download a free GPX track at the Trans Wisconsin Trail website.

Scan QR code above or click here to view the route on REVER

The TWAT was to be my first time riding off-road. What was I thinking?

To prepare myself, I binged hours of off-road riding instruction on YouTube by Bret Tkacs, Dusty Wessels, and Eric Lange. Their tips and techniques came back to me when I needed them most. YouTube was also my tutor for what to pack. I’d watch a video, hit pause, and click over to Amazon to load up my cart. I felt like a kid on Christmas opening boxes and setting up fake camp in my backyard to try out everything.

The Trans Wisconsin Adventure Trail starts just south of Hazel Green, Wisconsin. I rode past the gravel road near “The Point of Beginning” historical marker on State Route 80 twice before realizing it was my starting point. There was no sign for the TWAT, but the route I had uploaded to the REVER app indicated I was in the right place. My adventure had begun!

See all of Rider‘s Wisconsin touring stories here.

Day 1: Dirt Legs

The standard advice is to run knobbies on an adventure route, but after all the money I’d spent on gear, I figured replacing the perfectly good 90/10 tires on my Honda Africa Twin would tip Mrs. Trimble over the edge. Rather than make camping a permanent situation, I opted to use my existing rubber.

The first day had the most pavement of the three. Intermittent road stretches were a welcome break for a novice like me. The limited traction off-road was unnerving, so the grippy bits helped relieve the tension. Hour by hour, my confidence and skills improved.

The Midwest is renowned for its flat landscape and laser-straight roads, which results from most of the region being scraped clean by glaciers during the last ice age. But there’s a small territory where Wisconsin, Minnesota, Iowa, and Illinois meet that was not covered by ice and thus lacks glacial deposits known as drift. Known as the Driftless Area, this playground of hills, ridges, valleys, and rock formations was a highlight of Day 1.

The first day also took me over the Mississippi River for some riding in Iowa, which is a little odd for a route across Wisconsin, but the ride through the Yellow River State Forest made it worthwhile. After crossing back into Wisconsin, I rode through the Rush Creek State Natural Area.

I spent my first night camping in Soldiers Grove, right in town at Beauford T. Anderson Park. Stomach issues had me in and out of my tent all night, and dew made everything inside unpleasantly damp. As the sun rose, I hung my things up to dry. Drinking instant coffee from my Jet-Boil, I questioned my decision to camp, which led to more second-guessing about the entire adventure. I rolled out of town disgusted by how soft I had become.

See all of Rider‘s Northeast U.S. touring stories here.

Day 2: Attitude of Gratitude

The next day, I felt more comfortable riding off-road, and gratitude soon replaced despair. The trail meandered through hills covered in baby-head-sized rocks and water-filled bottoms that hid all sorts of bar-yanking surprises. Wrestling my Africa Twin along trails in the Chequamegon-Nicolet National Forest left me drenched with sweat.

When I poked out onto a paved road, the sun was getting low, and I worried about finding a hotel. A half-mile down the road, I passed a sign for Chippewa Campground, which was on my must-visit list. Rather than suffer self-flagellation in a hotel room, I opted to camp. Two days of riding had me so beat that I dropped my bike while trying to lower the kickstand.

The campground’s coin-operated shower revived me. For $2 in change, the sweat and dirt disappeared down the drain while the satisfaction of completing two days of off-road exploration lingered. I strolled to a gas station for a six-pack and a cup of ice that I filled with Jameson. That night by the campfire, I felt like a new man. A sense of accomplishment and a nice Irish whiskey buzz made for a more enjoyable night in the woods.

Day 3: Enter Sandman

The third day on the Trans Wisconsin Adventure Trail called for sand, which had seemed treacherous on the YouTube training videos. So far, I’d only taken a few dabs and no falls, so I expected this to be my day to eat humble pie. Not far in, I experienced my first tank slapper after putting too much weight on the front wheel. Rather than panic, I drew upon the wisdom of my YouTube tutors – Don’t cut the power abruptly; Lean back and give it gas; Ride it out until the bike stabilizes – and I recovered. Soon I was sitting back against my dry bag and flying through the sugary stuff without a care in the world. 

At a stop for gas, I asked the attendant how far it was to the Delta Diner. He said it was about an hour away, so I bought some beef jerky to hold me over. Because I was on the TWAT and not driving by car, it took three hours before I finlly pulled off the trail at the diner, a chrome-and-neon oasis in the middle of nowhere.

The parking lot was empty except for an older couple gearing up to climb back on their BMWs. After removing my sweaty gear and helmet, I nodded to them as I headed for the door. As I reached the top step, the lady said, “They’re closed.” What a gut punch. I was tired and hungry, and for hours I had been fantasizing about a juicy burger with a side of fries and an ice-cold Coke. Dry jerky and warm, plastic-tasting water from my hydration pack was a poor substitute.

North of Delta, I crossed U.S. Route 2 and entered the final stretch. After riding through the Moquah Barrens State Natural Area, I rolled through the town of Cornucopia. A few more county roads later, I arrived at a dirt cul-de-sac by the Point Detour Campground near Apostle Islands National Lakeshore. A faint trail led into the woods and came out at a dilapidated set of stairs down to Lake Superior, and I worked my way to the rocky shore.

As I sat smoking the cigar I saved for the occasion, I felt humbled by the setting and the moment. I had overcome self-doubt, completed my journey, and even learned to love sand.

Trans Wisconsin Adventure Trail Resources:

• Trans Wisconsin Adventure Trail
• Driftless Area
• Chequamegon-Nicolet National Forest
• Delta Diner
• Apostle Islands National Lakeshore
• Point Detour Campground

See all of Rider‘s touring stories here.

The post Trans Wisconsin Adventure Trail | Favorite Ride appeared first on Rider Magazine.

I should warn you: This Florida motorcycle ride doesn’t include challenging hairpin curves or drastic changes in elevation. The Sunshine State has a well-earned reputation for flat, straight roads, but there are little nuggets here and there that offer riding entertainment of a different sort.

Jacksonville is the second largest city by area in the contiguous U.S., so it’s spread out in clusters of population density. To get away from the hustle and bustle, I headed to a local favorite for motorcyclists, State Road 13, which runs for nearly 50 miles along the east bank of the north-flowing St. Johns River from Jacksonville south to Spuds, a rural community that grows exactly what its name would suggest.

Scan QR code above or click here to view the route on REVER

On the day of my ride, I hit the lottery in terms of traffic. I had the day off for Presidents’ Day. Schools were out, less fortunate souls were working, and my family was visiting the zoo, so I had a cool, sunny day all to myself.

After filling my body’s tank with high-octane coffee, I fired up my air-cooled Ducati Scrambler 1100, and its Italian rumble brought a smile to my face. I started off midmorning in no particular rush, enjoying the Duc’s torquey Twin while my fellow travelers sat locked in their steel cages.

Related: Ducati Scrambler 1100 First Ride Review

See all of Rider‘s Florida touring stories here.

As I approached Greenbriar Road, my thoughts went to the history of this unremarkable stretch. Artist Amy Stump, who is a native to the area, once told me about the road’s history and its nickname, Ghost Light Road, which was summed up in Bill Delaney’s Jaxlore column in The Jaxson:

“[T]he ghost is a young motorcyclist from the area whose father had warned him about speeding on the dirt road. One fateful day, the young man’s brother strung a rope across Greenbriar. This prank merely would have unseated the cocky rider had he heeded his father’s admonition, but, unfortunately, he gunned the engine and lost his head. Thereafter, his ghost shined his headlamp down Greenbriar in a nightly vigil, either searching for his lost head or warning others against being so reckless.”

Like The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, the tale is apocryphal, but why let the truth get in the way of a good story?

Greenbriar Road ends at SR 13 near Switzerland (which is nothing like the country), and I headed south toward the town of Orangedale, passing under a large canopy of oak trees casting shadows over the road. The 17-mile stretch of SR 13 between Julington Creek and Wades Creek is designated as the William Bartram Scenic and Historic Highway, named after the naturalist and botanist who documented plants, animals, and native peoples in the area during the late 1700s.

As I rolled along the well-kept two-lane road, I caught peeks of the St. Johns River through the trees, and a few curves and roundabouts provided an opportunity to lean the Ducati over. There are small parks aplenty for scenic stops, many with benches to take in the river views and get a taste of “Old Florida.” 

As I approached Orangedale, I was enveloped by the smokey smell wafting from Woodpeckers Backyard BBQ, a local favorite. Amy Stump’s mural of angel wings encircling regional landmarks greeted me as I placed an order for brisket and datil corn. Luckily, I got there before the brisket sold out, a gutting experience for those who arrive late in the day. I took my platter across the street to the Shands Pier and ate while watching boats gliding on the glint of the St. Johns.

Continuing south on SR 13, I took a brief detour on State Road 16 and crossed the Shands Bridge, passing fishermen, food trucks, and farm vendors. After riding by boatyards full of masts jutting into the sky, I stopped at The Military Museum of North Florida, located at the former site of Naval Air Station Lee Field. With its bunker-like main building, heavy machinery, and even a couple of military motorcycles from past theaters of war, it serves as a vivid reminder of the area’s deep military history.

Back on SR 13, I stopped at Trout Creek Memorial Park and Marina, highlights of which include the Major Gen. William W. Loring Monument and swamp-boat rentals for sightseeing or fishing. While enjoying an inspiring view of the creek, I imagined William Bartram recording observations and gathering samples in the same location hundreds of years ago.

Just down the road, I stopped at Buddy Boy’s Country Store, the best gas station on this route to fill up or enjoy the camaraderie of fellow riders. With its Adirondack chairs, general store provisions, and tasty country barbecue, it’s a must-stop if you’re in the area.

See all of Rider‘s Southeast U.S. touring stories here.

On the road again, the beauty of my ride really unfolded with curvy roads winding through tree canopies with peekaboo views of the river, piers, boat docks, and parks. Between the well-to-do town of Picolata (once the home of a Spanish fort) and Tocoi, SR 13 opened up, giving the Ducati a chance to stretch its legs.

Once past Tocoi, I recommend stopping at Riverdale Park. With picnic tables, benches, and a well-kept public restroom, it’s a nice place to relax and reflect. As the glassy calm waters of the St. Johns lapped gently against the shore, I closed my eyes and soaked in the ambience.

SR 13 ends at the junction with State Road 207 near Spuds. I had a decision to make: head east toward the coast to towns like St. Augustine, Palm Coast, and Daytona Beach, or cross the river and ride up the west bank of the St. Johns. Eager to get home in time to enjoy dinner with my family and listen to the adventures my 6-year-old and his friends had at the zoo, I returned home the way I came, enjoying the open road and the scenery in the opposite direction. The beauty of this route is that it’s enjoyable on its own, or it can be combined with other scenic roads nearby. One thing’s for sure: It was the change of pace I was looking for.

See all of Rider‘s touring stories here.

The post Florida Motorcycle Ride on Scenic State Road 13 | Favorite Ride appeared first on Rider Magazine.

Utah’s national parks – Arches, Bryce Canyon, Canyonlands, Capitol Reef, and Zion – are known as the Mighty 5. All feature impressive red rock formations, landscapes, and vistas, yet each is unique. In late September, after the worst of the summer heat and crowds, my wife and I toured three Utah National Parks on a motorcycle.

We were coming from California. Younger riders or those with iron butts may choose to endure the entire journey on two wheels, but we prefer burning the hundreds of interstate miles to get there and back in comfort, and we like to bring more for a two-week trip than can fit on a bike. We rented an RV and a trailer, loaded up my BMW R 1200 GS, stocked up on gear, food, beer, and wine, and hit the road from our home in Oxnard.

Scan QR code above or click here to view the route on REVER

We “glamped” in RV parks, all of which had wide pull-through spots with plenty of trailer and bike parking. Once parked, we saddled up for scenic day rides. Being on a motorcycle made it easier to cruise through the national parks and slip into smaller parking spaces. At the end of each day, we returned to our campsite for a sundowner by the fire. For this trip, we purchased a National Parks and Federal Recreational Lands Pass for $80, which paid for itself upon entrance to our third park and gave us access to other parks for a full year.

See all of Rider‘s ‘Great Roads West’ touring stories here.

Utah National Parks on a Motorcycle: Capitol Reef

On a perfect 70-degree clear day, we mounted the GS, departed Thousand Lakes RV Park in Torrey, Utah, and rode into Capitol Reef National Park, known for its 100-mile wrinkle in the earth’s crust called the Waterpocket Fold. It was formed as rocks were pushed upward and erosion sliced and diced through the layers, creating deep, narrow canyons and towering monoliths.

We rode past Panoramic Point down a short washboard dirt road to Goosenecks Overlook. I changed the GS’s suspension setting to Comfort mode and promptly received a “Thanks, Babe” from Nicole via our helmet comms. The view from Goosenecks Overlook of the river below and the slender S-curve it cut into the canyon was splendid.

Continuing into the park, we turned right at the visitor center onto Capitol Reef Scenic Drive, a paved road that turns to dirt after 8 miles at the Capitol Gorge Road picnic area. There is so much to see in all directions that we poked along at about 20 mph. Coming back, we turned onto a bumpy 2-mile dirt road and rode through a couple dry washes to the Cassidy Arch trailhead and Grand Wash. I checked the horizon for storms, as even distant rain could quickly make those washes impassable. The scenery as we approached the trailhead changed dramatically, making the detour a must-do.

Utah National Parks on a Motorcycle: Canyonlands

Due to a late start from our campsite at the Sun Outdoors Arches Gateway in Moab, we were turned away from Arches because it was at capacity. Even in the “shoulder” season, high-traffic parks like Arches fill up early, so depending on when you go, plan ahead and reserve a timed entry ticket. Even though Canyonlands is only a few miles from Arches, it gets much less traffic, so we headed there instead.

We had to wait to get into Canyonlands too, but Nicole and I passed the time by chatting and digging into our bag of snacks. Following the requisite snapshot at the park entrance sign, we proceeded along the huge flat-topped Island in the Sky Mesa and the 34-mile roundtrip paved road that connects the panoramic viewpoints. These overlooks are 1,000 feet above the surrounding terrain, so the views are spectacular.

Utah National Parks on a Motorcycle: Arches

A much earlier start the next day paid off. We began the tour of Arches at The Windows Section, home of Double Arch, the Parade of Elephants formation, North Window, and Turret Arch. We brought shorts and tennis shoes to comfortably walk amongst the sites, as well as a picnic lunch. My favorite was Double Arch, a pothole arch with a span that’s 144 feet wide and 112 feet high formed by water erosion from above rather than more typical erosion from the side.

A brisk 10-minute walk took us to North Window, standing 93 feet wide and 51 feet high, where we stumbled upon a group of local grade-schoolers with canvas and paintbrushes in hand, tapping into their inner artist. “Don’t get too focused on the sky, or you’ll end up with too much blue in your painting,” advised their teacher. We continued on and then enjoyed the solitude and scenery of the Windows Primitive Loop trail.

Back on the bike, other highlights included the Garden of Eden, Balanced Rock, and Wolfe Ranch, which is located at the trailhead that leads to the famous Delicate Arch featured on Utah license plates.

See all of Rider‘s Utah motorcycle rides here.

A Bonus Ride: La Sal Loop Road

On a cloudy 62-degree morning, we followed U.S. Route 191 south out of Moab and made our way to La Sal Loop Road, a winding paved route that climbs up into the La Sal Mountains. The temperature dropped and it began to rain, but luckily the road turned away from the storm. 

“Are you warm enough?” I asked Nicole, and when she answered in the affirmative, we pressed on. Just beyond the parking area for Mill Creek, we turned right onto Forest Road 076 toward Oowah Lake. This bumpy, rutted dirt road challenged me with sharp corners, steep climbs, and wandering bovines, but we were rewarded with the fall colors of the aspens.

We continued our counterclockwise ride on La Sal Loop Road. We stopped at La Sal Lookout Point, which provides sweeping views of Castle Valley and red rock formations that look like the inspiration for the old cartoons with the Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote. A steep descent with multiple switchbacks took us down to the warmer air of the valley floor. At State Route 128, we turned left (west) and followed the Colorado River on our way back to Moab.

With so much great riding and scenery, we were reluctant to leave, but our allocated vacation time was coming to an end, so we packed up and headed home. Southern Utah is a stunning part of the country that should be on everyone’s must-see, must-ride list.

See all of Rider‘s touring stories here.

The post Seeing Three Utah National Parks on a Motorcycle | Favorite Ride appeared first on Rider Magazine.