Born Free Trip Finale

After a long night of music and drinking, I was told that I wasn't allowed to make my Helena visit a "one night stand". So, to sweeten the deal, Leny and Murna told me they needed a chauffeur the following day to drive them to Butte - in Leny's '69 Mach 1. Not only could I not pass that up, but I wanted to spend more time with friends that I don't get to see nearly enough.

Saturday, July 2nd
The next day, I fired up the Mustang and we hit the road. About ten miles down the highway, I was babying the gas pedal when Leny asked me "what are you doing"? I replied "what", as he responded, "hit it". So, I floored it. There aren't too many cars that give me goose-bumps, I'm all two-wheels, but this car lit me up as I crushed the gas pedal. Montana back-roads are only as good as the vehicle you're driving and this thing was nasty. Needless to say, we made it to Butte in no time.

We spent most of our day there, then made our way back to Helena to visit with more of our Sturgis friends. A low-key night was much needed on my part, so it was good to relax, have some drinks and good food.

Sunday, July 3rd
The next day, we hit a breakfast spot before heading over to the shop to bolt up my tank and get me back on the road.

My plan was to head to Sheridan, WY for the night, stop in at The Mint Bar downtown, have some cold ones and check out any Independence Day festivities. 370 miles was what lied ahead of me. I cranked it out, making it there in about 5 1/2 hours. When I pulled into the North side of Sheridan, it was a little after 4 o'clock in the afternoon. After talking to some locals and figuring out that nothing was going on as far as 4th of July celebrations, I got the itch to get back on the road. With 5 hours of daylight left, I wasn't about to find a place to bed down and call it a day. So, off I went.

I love Wyoming. Besides all of the Meth Billboards and a few shitty towns along I-25, I love the State. Every time I roll across it, I'm smiling from ear to ear. 415 miles left on the day and I wasn't looking back.

By the time I got to Wheatland, the sun was setting and fireworks were going off all around me. It was an incredible feeling, riding solo across the USA on my motorcycle and having a grand finale exploding in the sky as I made my closing stretch home.

On to Cheyenne, where I felt like my ass was gonna fall off as I rolled into a truck-stop. I took a good, long break, even a cigarette as I sipped a cup of coffee to get my nerves back. As I laid on the concrete, a guy on a bagger pulled up and started wiping all of the bugs off of his fairing. Some fool in a van came walking by and made a comment about how many bugs hit his windshield, I could only laugh. Proof that most people have no clue how easy they have it in their a/c, leather interior, cruise control cages of boredom.

From there, I tucked in behind a SUV to protect myself from bugs, wind, and an always possible deer crossing. As I got closer to home, I hit every red light on my way into town when all I wanted was to see the inside of my garage before I deliriously ran myself off of the road. I made it home and was greeted by hundreds, yes hundreds on flies in my apartment... left the garbage sitting for two weeks, whoops... a killing spree ensued.

Freedom is the main reason I embark on these journeys. Riding down the road on two wheels can make you feel alive, but riding cross-country opens your eyes to both who you are and the human spirit overall. People that don't take chances or live their lives the way they want just don't understand, anyone can do it. Call it free spirited, courageous, living on the edge, whatever. I don't want to look back on my life and feel that it was normal. I do this because it's what makes me happy, it's what makes me feel like I could die at any moment, it makes me feel alive. Some people call it crazy, others envy the lifestyle - I pay no attention to what others think, good or bad, it won't change the way I get my kicks.

Like all of the others, it was a great ride... what a trip it was.

Leny's Mach 1

Montana Mountain Ranges

A good friend I made while visiting, Leny and Murna's Boxer, Boom

Montana Sunsets

Born Free 3

The road to Cook's from the campground is a tunnel of trees, then from there to the show site it's a hilly, windy road. The entire time, you feel no where near the madness of Los Angeles. Very cool spot for the Born Free guys to have host this enormous event. With talk of this event happening or not next year, I hope it fuels this feeling for years to come, chances are I won't make it next year if it goes off the same weekend as this year's...but, depending on if they even have the event again, who knows.

Rich and I made our way over to the show and I pulled into the event, running into Grant as I pulled through the crowd. Since Rich's build wasn't ready in time, we put my chop in the builder's circle at the show.

The show was as big as expected with all of the sponsors on board, publicity the past 6 months, and success from last year's show. The Knuckle they raffled off was an amazing bike, to whoever won it - I hate you. But really, the guys who put this event on did a great job. It was a great reason to pack up the bike and head West for the weekend(or two weeks), which is what it's all about, riding.

Lots of good people coming together for a common interest. The more I go to these types of events, the more I get to see friends and make new ones - this industry(at least the custom side) is far different than most. It's what makes it such a great thing to be a part of. Competing businesses coming together, helping each other out, and enjoying time together. No cut-throat shit. Well, that's not to say you won't see it from time to time, but the people who pull that shit don't really matter much to those that take motorcycles seriously.

Didn't take to many pictures or shoot any video of the show. I felt I did a lot of that last year, which is why I tried enjoying it more this year. I made my rounds, shot the shit with a lot of people, relaxed, and had Pacman pin-stripe my bike... that's it. No crazy stories, just came to have a good time and get some work done on the chop to finish it off.

The Dice party that night was a hit, packing the crowd into Cook's for the after-party. The Dice guys always throw a good shin-dig, if you get a chance, hit one up.

Got back to the campsite and sparked up a fire for a few hours. Me, Rich, Mike D and the boys from Dallas, along with Stephen and his friends from the Denver area, drinking and doing our thing before passing out for the night.

The next day I was heading on a long trip up the Coast and through the NorthWest part of the country, didn't know what might lie ahead...


Builder's Circle Area

The Bike Show Area

I've never really been a huge fan of the stretched out, long chops, but Dave Polgreen's bike did it for me. This bike was wicked and is giving me the itch to build something with this style in the near future. From its stance, to the engraving, to the wheels, to the sissy bar, to the front end - this bike was one of my favorites.

Uhhhh, yeah...

Pulled my bike out of the Circle, into the shade for Pacman while he pin-striped it. He knocked it out.

Homeless style sign Rich made for my chop. With how dirty the bike was, it fit.


To the guys who put this event on, great job. I hope this event returns year after year...

Ride Hard Rock - Day Two

Rich and I got on the road our second day in good fashion, heading East when we needed to go West. Somehow, being so exhausted the night before, we didn't remember which way we came into Richfield, Utah. So, we blew right past the sign that said I-70 West and got on the on-ramp headed East. Had to pull a u-turn through the median and what seemed to be loose gravel about a foot deep. Almost got stuck, but kept the wheels moving and made it through, barely.

What a way to start the day.

Our first stop was Beaver, Utah. Pulled onto the off-ramp to get some grub and gas and I had no clutch. So, I jammed down the gears and got to our usual restaurant stop there in town(use to be Paradise Grill, now it's MJ's). Rolled the bike into the shade and let the engine cool off while we went inside and ordered some food. Once we ordered, Rich and I went out and diagnosed the problem. My clutch adjuster lock-nut had backed off completely, rattling around in my clutch hub dome. When I re-built my chop, I was considering leaving the chrome dome off, but, Rich talked me into keeping it on there - good thing I did or that nut would've been long gone. Got me fixed up and back on the road.

We took our time getting to the Nevada state line. Had to pull over in St. George, Utah it was so hot. Sitting there in the parking lot, a mustang pulls up in front of us as we sat on the curb. This hot little blonde gets out and right off the bat starts talking our ears off. She steps out in this short little dress, flip flops and aviators and sits down behind me. We get to talking and she asks where we're headed, this whole time I'm thinking "this is too easy", but she was interested so we told her our plans. She hears Vegas and starts on a rant about how she wants to come and meet us for the night and crash in our room at the Hard Rock. Again, "this is too easy", but she was down for it and kept asking if we were sure it would be alright. Come on, this girl was 22 years old, bangin' hot, and ready to party. We looked like shit and she didn't know us at all, but it didn't seem to matter to her. So, she assured us she wasn't a thief(like we cared) and asked for me to take her number down, "this is too easy". Well, she was all about it, but in the end, she didn't come to Vegas for the night, figures. Next time I'm passing through St. George though, ohhhh boy, look out - she's getting a call.

By the time we rolled into Mesquite, the temp was at 106 degrees. Guys were pulling up on bikes with full leather gear and full-face helmets on, fucking crazy. It boggled my mind seeing them pull up while I slammed a 32 oz. Gatorade(I should own stock in Gatorade) and soaked my head with water.

From there, we got to Speedway Blvd on the north end of Vegas to gas up and take a break before heading in to the Hotel. Vegas was hot, like always, and the traffic there blows. We got to the Hard Rock and I pulled up to the front door, asking the valet guy where a secure spot would be to park the bikes. He directed me to the VIP parking and we unloaded our gear.

Walked in, lugging our gear past the suite check-in counters and on to the regular standard room check-in desk. Great thing about the Hard Rock Hotel, it doesn't have slot machines ringin' and dingin' non-stop, driving you nuts. They play rock and roll, loud, all throughout the casino and restaurants - 24 hours a day. I walk up and give the girl my name and i.d., tired from the road, I just wanted to drop my gear and get a drink. She looked up my info and said "sir, you have a suite tonight". I looked at her confused and said "you must be mistaken". Nope. I accidentally booked a suite for that night. These suites at the Hard Rock are pretty much brand new, have built-in jukeboxes in the walls, flat screens, a living room area, bar, huge bathroom, and beds that'll make you want to move in. 750 miles down and we were about to sleep like kings.

Hit up the 24 hour restaurant in the hotel, hung by the bar for a bit watching girls dance on poles, then hit the room for some shut-eye.

Getting Elevated - Day One

Up until the day we left for Born Free 3, I was constantly working on getting my chop finished, breaking it in as well as I could, and tweaking the bugs out of it. 9 p.m. the night before we left(Tuesday Night), that was when I finally had everything said and done. Spent that day running around, getting new rubber put on my wheels(Thanks to Randall down at Deluxe Motorcycles in Denver - you da man), changed my fluids, and checked everything over one last time.

Dave Polgreen, Gator, Zac, and Pete got into town from the Twin Cities earlier that day - Dave and Gator were busy most of the day and night at Rich's trying to get their bikes up and running. I stopped by for a bit, then called it a night so I could get home and pack my gear for the long trip.

Wednesday, the 22nd, Rich and I got on the road after Dave and the guys got squared away with a rental to tow their trailer. We got out of town later in the morning, but Rich and I are never in a hurry, making our trips a little more relaxing in the scorching summer heat. Plus, after getting my top end worked over(Again, thanks to Randall at Deluxe for doing the work on my engine, top notch guy), my engine still had some breaking in. We stopped at our regular stops along the highway, making our way West.

We got to Grand Junction, Colorado, and I got ahold of Mike Lichter. Mike had been keeping in contact with me for the months and days leading up to Born Free, trying to talk me into riding with the Ride To Born Free crew out of Denver. He was documenting the whole ride for Cycle Source. The thought was great, I just didn't know about riding with a bunch of guys I didn't know. Trusting the people I'm riding with is a huge deal for me... They had left early that morning and had only made it to Fruita, about 15 minutes ahead of Grand Junction. Mike asked us to meet up with them and shoot while the light was right and the sun setting. So, Rich and I took a long break, then headed over to Fruita where the Ride To Born Free crew were fixing a flat.

We found them pretty easily, though we didn't know where they were exactly, Fruita only has one exit - wasn't hard. We hung out with them for a bit, then got the itch to get back on the road. Mike asked the two of us to stick around a little longer, so he could shoot us on the next stretch of the trip. We caved and waited for them, letting Mike know we were only gonna stick with them for a little bit of the next stretch before we blasted ahead.

Mike had Rich and I up in front, directing us up, back, left, right, side-by-side, staggered, on and on. Not feeling it, Rich blasted ahead after a short while. I stuck with the crew for a little longer while Mike snapped away, he must've shot about 1,000 pictures in that short distance. By this time, my engine was broken in and I still hadn't opened up on the throttle yet. Mike gave me the thumbs up to bail and I ripped ahead to catch Rich. I gripped the throttle, twisted, and my engine came to life. It was time to let it do it's thing, opening up the addition power I had worked into it. I could feel it, the time was right, almost perfect, and it felt great.

Rich and I took off ahead of the pack, headed for Richfield, Utah. We got to the next stop, met the crew again, then said goodbye, not seeing them until we got to Born Free. We pulled into Green River while the sun was setting and the mosquitos were out in full force. This is where the Ride To Born Free crew were camping, Rich and I thought they were gonna get eaten alive. Like always, we pushed ahead into the night to get through the long 110 mile stretch between Green River and Salina, Utah. This is one hell of a stretch, going through during the day is well worth it. But, Rich and I get it over with at the end of our first day almost every time we ride out to L.A. - less traffic and cooler temps at night, that stretch can get really hot during the day.

We pulled into Richfield, Utah on fumes. I was also fuming cuz I thought I was gonna run out of gas about a mile before the exit, but I made it, just barely. With no restaurants open at that time of night, we got some food at the local truck stop and called it a night.

The next day was set for the desert and a night at the Hard Rock in Vegas, it was gonna get hot... with some pleasant surprises along the way.