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Just before Christmas 2005, the company I had worked hard to make successful, closed its doors for the last time. I was fortunate, though, I snatched a job offer prior, but it required leaving Texas and moving to Virginia. I never thought I would leave Texas, but you gotta pay the bills and that’s where […]

Here’s the clan filling up for gas outside of Fort Collins CO. We’ve got them from left to right: Jerry Francis, 1950 Harley 74 Mike Sadusky, 1950 Harley 74 Warren Webber, 1950 Harley 74 Wendell Rea, 1942 Harley 45 notice the front knobbyThe true adventure riders: On Thanksgiving day while most Americans were sitting around

Chris Kallas art available in the Black Market. Chris Kallas and Greg Parigian Inglewood, CA 1968.In Feb. 2005. I got a call from a childhood friend that I hadn’t seen or talked to since 1969.We used to build models of choppers and make modifications to our Sting-Ray bicyclestill his family moved away. It's strange talking

Not too long ago my mate Bullitt, whom some Bikernet readers know as the V-max riding professional soldier, came back home from some undisclosed overseas country where he’d accomplished some undisclosed military things.Having been on active duty for almost a full year, he was looking forward to a month off. Relaxing on the Barbary Coast

My first time on a Harley was October 26, 2005. I was 35, and newly single. The tall, smiling guy I’d met on a plane two days before showed up on a 1999 Road King. I’d spent two hours getting ready, and all that preparation was about to be destroyed. I was a motorcycle virgin.

Some 3,126 miles later I arrived home already wondering when the next ride will begin. This ride was necessitated by a visit to Biketoberfest in Daytona Beach, Florida. And since the basic characteristics of a good ride do not include the most direct route, this one was no exception. It involved a 700-plus mile first

About six months ago I got my first Harley. It is a 2003 XL883R.I love it and like all proud Daddies’ I want the rest of the world to think my baby is as wonderful as I do. Now I think some do. Living in Jacksonville Fl, it’s a short ride to Daytona. So my

Why does the road, to what we really want, always have to be so fucking long? My love of riding comes very naturally. I grew up hearing the stories, my folks passed on, of my dad picking up my mom on whatever his current ride was and enjoying the night life of post war LA.

Heading out this morning on my way to work, bundled in layers and heated gloves, I was still a little concerned about how cold it might be as the temperature was a crisp 42° F and 60 mph down the road for 30 miles can be chilly.My fear was quickly overcome, and I have to

Gaspar Trama, motorcycle instructor par excellence, and one of the finest humans I have ever had privilege to know, passed away Tues, July 11, 2006. He went into the hospital for abdominal pain last Saturday, they found colon cancer, operated successfully, and he died later of a heart attack. (The leading cause of death for

Me and ChaCha.(True story-Dates might be off a little.)I named every bike I ever had, since the first 20-inch bicycle to the present.What’s this all about, ya say? Read on and you’ll learn valuable advice. If ya do learn, send me a dollar.If ya don’t, no charge.December 2003– Unfortunately, divorce is inevitable. She fuckin’ dumped

OK, first of all, Robert and I decided to leave on the 30th of May, so we could both spend time withour wives that Monday. We'd been working a major shutdown at the JOB and needed a getaway ride. I got to our meeting spot an hour before Robert. This gave me time to reflect,

Feel like riding your new bike across the country during the winter? Photo from Bob T.I’ve had a few new Sydney Netriders ask me about how to keep warm on the bike during the winter months.So I thought I would put up some suggestions and a few tricks learned over the years.Some of them might

“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith. There is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord the righteous Judge will award to me on the day.” ~ II Tim. 4:6-8In Loving Memory of my sister, my best friend and my right hand

I don’t know where to start. A riding buddy shows up at the Bikernet Headquarters with a modified ’54 Lincoln and asked for some help. So we quit working on bikes and tinkered with the stripped Lincoln with the rebuilt engine and a Carter carb from Highway Patrol Cruisers of the era. Of course, the

It had been a great day, as far as workdays go. It was Friday at last, and I had just finished lunch at home and cranked up the old Harley for the ride back to work. It was early summer, about 95 degrees, and it felt good cruising at 60 mph down the two-lane highway.

I found myself between jobs. The company I worked for the past 4 years was closing down at the end of the year and my new job wasn’t scheduled to start until February. It would require us to move from Texas to Virginia, but that’s what you do sometimes to pay the bills. Preparations needed

We'd been on the road for a few days, and the group was ready for a break. Traveling across the Midwest is bad enough, but more than a day or two gets real old, real quick. The temps were in the 90s and the crosswinds weren't being kind to us at all. As if on

Thursday, the 28th of February will be my 50th birthday. Needless to say, reflection remains a way of life. My mother recently sent a photograph from 1973, in it I have that straight hair, wear a paisley hippie chick shirt, tight blue jeans, with an obvious teenager attitude. I am ricocheted back to a time

The author and his '39 Chief.Ok, I know it’s ancient but my main ride today is a 1939 Indian Chief. I learned how to ride on one just like it in 1965 as a 19 year old boy from Brooklyn NY and a life long love affair began. My Dad often told me stories about

This is 1977, Rockford, Illinois. Next to me on the left was Barracuda, and Silent John. I was about 26 at the time, full of piss and vinegar. I was going to the annual Chili Burn at the Hells Henchmen clubhouse. I rode my 93-inch, S&S flywheels, cone Shovel. They didn't make engines back then.

THE PLACE: Known as the Kashi of Southern India, Harihareshwar is known for its seashore where the river Savitri enters the ocean. The town is surrounded by four hills named after Lords Harihareshwar, Harshinachal, Bramhadri and Pushpadri. Nearby is Shriwardhan, another place of interest and beauty. This was the Peshwa residence who governed for their