You are riding along in the left lane of a one-way street, with a car ahead of you on your right. As the two of you enter an intersection, the car swerves left across your path to make a turn.
Strategy: Because traffic was light, the driver may have forgotten that he was traveling on a one-way street and never looked in his blind spot for you. Since there was no traffic in the oncoming lane, he felt free to make a normal left turn (without signaling), inadvertently trapping you in his path. There was no way, short of watching for the non-existent signal, to predict that this driver was going to turn left. But remembering that intersections are always situations of increased risk, you might have prepared for this by taking actions to separate yourself from the other vehicle. By riding so close (and inside the driver’s blind spot) you effectively hid yourself from the driver’s vision and greatly increased your exposure to danger.
THE MEANING OF MEMORIAL DAY
NEVER FORGET OUR VETERANS WHO SERVE
I have approached this subject several times over the years, Memorial Day is not the official start of summer, nor should it be the reason for a 3-day long weekend of parties, barbecues, or car sales.
Memorial Day has had several names over the 150 years of its existence; however, the reason for Memorial Day stays the same. The day is for honoring and showing respect for those who have been killed while serving in the military, beginning with the Civil War through current military engagements.
Over the years Memorial Day has diminished as a national holiday and has become the unofficial start of summer and
big box store specials. Why has it gotten to that point?
Simply stated, people don’t seem to care as much as they have in the past. With only 10% of the American population having served in the military, the other 90% seems to have forgotten what the actual cost of freedom is, those who have given their lives.
Cemeteries will have small American Flags placed on the final resting places of our warriors and American Flags should be flown at half staff from dawn until noon at which time they will be brought back to full staff (or to the top of the pole). To properly bring the Flag to the half staff position the flag
should be raised to the upper most position on the staff and then lowered to the half way position.
Now you should have some idea as to what Memorial Day represents and what respect and dignity the day should be shown.
Please say a special prayer for those who we have lost over the years. God Bless America and those who serve in uniform. It’s not about the war; it’s about those who serve to protect us.
-Terri Longpree
Remember and Honor our Veterans and Never Forget the meaning of Memorial Day.
THE WHITE ROOM BIKE DAY
In Memory of Nancy Ray
Mom just turned
!
Why Tampa’s Motorcycle Scene Is Worth Showing Up For
Over the past year, I’ve been working closely with dealers, brands, and riders across Florida while building out the Motorcycle Expo.
One thing became clear pretty quickly. There’s no shortage of riders in Florida. There’s no shortage of interest. But there is a gap. Especially in markets like Tampa. Right now, if you’re a rider and you want to check out new bikes, see gear in person, or actually talk to brands, your options are limited. You can visit a dealership. You can scroll online. Or you wait for one of the big rally-style events.
But there hasn’t been a true indoor, all-in-one experience where everything comes together in one place. That’s the gap we’re looking to fill. And the timing matters. The motorcycle industry has been going through a shift. Sales have tightened, brands are adjusting, and dealers are being forced to rethink how they connect with customers. At the same time, riders are changing how they make decisions. People don’t just want to scroll anymore. They want to actually see things up close. Sit on the bike. Compare options. Ask real questions. Have real conversations.
That’s where events like this start to matter again. At our Palm Beach show, just under 3,000 people came through over two days.
What stood out wasn’t just the number — it was the engagement. People weren’t just walking through. They were stopping, asking questions, spending time with vendors, and actually connecting with the products in front of them. And yes — they were buying.
Bringing the Expo to Tampa is about creating that same environment here. A place where riders can actually see what’s new, connect with brands, discover gear, and spend time around people who are into the same things they are.
For vendors and dealers, this isn’t about exposure — it’s about access to a concentrated audience that’s already interested, already engaged, and already in the mindset to explore what’s next.
For riders, it’s about access.
And for the local motorcycle community, it’s about building something that doesn’t currently exist at this level.
Not everyone, and not everything. But there were real transactions happening, real leads being generated, and real follow-up conversations that extended beyond the show. For dealers and brands, that means something simple: real traffic, real conversations, and real opportunity — all under one roof. That’s not something you get from a social post or a digital campaign alone.
This isn’t meant to replace rallies or dealership experiences. It complements them. It brings everything into one place, indoors, where people can take their time and engage without the distractions that usually come with outdoor events.
Tampa is a strong motorcycle market. This is about giving it a platform. This one is worth showing up for.
— Jeff Greenburg
A BORN TO RIDE PRESENTATION
VALERIE THOMPSON
is without a doubt the QUEEN OF SPEED She is the world’s fastest female motorcycle streamliner racer, hitting an incredible 328.467mph on the BUB 7 Streamliner motorcycle and is an eight-time Speed Record holder. She is also an inductee in the Sturgis Motorcycle Hall of Fame, a member of numerous 200 MPH Clubs and one 300 MPH Club. She is also known as Australia’s fastest female motorcycle land speed racer and was recently included in the Dealernews “Top 100 Leaders in Powersports” list. And that was all before lunch.
Most of us who ride motorcycles have “gone fast” on a bike. But we’re talking topping out at like 110 or 120mph. The fastest I ever went was 160mph on a 1000R Ninja. Even at that speed, the wind becomes a solid wall of force. So I had to ask Valerie, what does it feel like to pilot a Streamliner to over 300 miles per hour?
“It starts with me walking to the streamliner in my fire suit and helmet. Focusing. Getting my head around what is about to happen. My team is pushing and pulling me into a tiny cockpit that was made just to fit me. I am form-fitted into it, being strapped in, like a sardine in a can. They close the canopy over me and it is quiet for a moment but my focus is to make history. “The engine comes to life and I get a burst of energy
but then I go into a calm zone… totally focused. I touch the controls and know I won’t let go of them until the run is over. Then I am off! The experience is loud and bumpy and yet somehow serene. I am going very fast and the ground is very close. But I can’t afford any distraction. I get tunnelvision, only paying attention to the RPMs and I go for it. Your peripheral vision helps you focus on where you are on the track. In first gear you’re going 199 mph. In second gear you’re up to 255. In third gear you hit 335 and in fourth you can hit 363 mph.”
“Oddly, it all happens in slow motion. I don’t think about how fast I’m going and inside the streamliner you don’t feel the wind so you don’t feel how fast you are going. Sometimes the run that feels the slowest is actually your fastest. My execution has to be perfect and every run is a chance to make history. When you’re racing, you have to manage your fear. You have to understand the limits of your machine and manage risk. You have to have confidence in yourself, your vehicle and your team.”
I asked Valerie what inspires her to take these risks. She smiled and said, “The challenge.” When asked how she got into racing, what inspired her, she says, “Nobody inspired me to race. It was the challenge. I was always told I couldn’t do it. Mainly, I wanted to avoid getting tickets on my street bike. I was in my late 30’s when I started racing. I was told that I was out of control and that I should take it to the racetrack. I took my bike to a drag strip to see how fast it could go. Once I started, I never left. My local H-D dealership sponsored me and in my second year of racing, I placed third in the All Harley Drag Racing Association (AHDRA).”
Jesse Jurrens of Legend Air was a big inspiration to Valerie, sponsoring her racing efforts. “He invited me to the Bonneville Salt Flats to race my motorcycle. I thought I’d slip and fall on the salt. Even though I was worried, I bucked up and went out
there. I went 153 mph on my V-Rod, doing everything I could to hold on, rookie-style. The wind became a solid force and my helmet started choking me out. Luckily, I had a lot of great teachers who took me under their wings. I learned a lot from famous racer Wink Eller.”
Valerie’s racing career led her into the biker lifestyle, not the other way around. In 2018 she was inducted into the Sturgis Motorcycle Hall of Fame. Now she’s on a mission to rewrite motorsports history in 2021 with the Target 550 streamliner team in Australia this coming March at the Dry Lakes Racing Association (DLRA) Speed Week competition by breaking the current FIA conventional wheel-driven, piston-powered automobile class speed record of 415.867 mph.
But that’s not all. Valerie and Team 7 Racing plan a minimum of two events for 2021 for the famed BUB 7 motorcycle
Most of us who ride motorcycles have “gone fast” on a bike. But we’re talking topping out at like 110 or 120mph. The fastest I ever went was 160mph on a 1000R Ninja. Even at that speed, the wind becomes a solid wall of force. So I had to ask Valerie, what does it feel like to pilot a Streamliner to over 300 miles per hour?
streamliner, including a private testing session and competing at the Bonneville Motorcycle Speed Trials August 28 –September 2nd.
If successful with both the Target 550 and Team 7 Racing teams, Valerie will become the first woman to ever go over 500 mph in a car and over 400 in a streamliner motorcycle. Her success story and relentless quest to become the world’s fastest motorcycle racer is a key plot line in “Rockets and Titans” an upcoming film documentary about the competitive world of land speed racing. You may have also seen Valerie featured in the award-winning documentary films, including “Why We Ride” and “Mega Speed” (Discovery Channel).
This year, Valerie could actually become the first woman to go over 400 mph both in a car and a motorcycle. Already ranked #7 on the world’s fastest motorcycle racers of all-
time list, Valerie has become the first woman in the seat of the incredible Treit and Davenport Target 550 Streamliner. While other women have reached fabulous speeds in a car and others in a motorcycle streamliner, no woman has done both. The net result might be the first driver over 500 mph in a piston engine car, and over 400 mph in a motorcycle. Something that NOBODY, man or woman, has ever accomplished.
You can become a part of this history making quest by sponsoring Valerie and her independent team to shatter barriers and set new speed records! Visit ValerieThompsonRacing.com for more information or follow her on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram.
— Dave Nichols
King Diamond started almost entirely on a whim. My friend Chris Lampman told me to stop messing around with a generator shovel project I was putzing with and to do the pan in a VL frame project I had in my garage. We started working on the bike in October or November of 2007, and finished it by the third week of March 2008. We put in a lot of time in my garage that winter.
Almost every part on this bike is made from scratch or heavily customized. The frame needed a new backbone and a new neck forging, as well as new motor mounts to fit the panhead motor into the smaller VL frame. We had to weld in new bearing cups in the neck, and I modified internal fork stops
to work with the Ceriani front end. The bars were made from scratch. The seat pan was modified to increase the flip-up on the back; I also made a custom seat pivot bracket. The gas tank was heavily modified (removing a half-inch from the bottom, tapering middle section from the top, frisco’ing the bottom moving the petcock and putting in a new filler neck on the crown of the tank). The clutch lever is a modified aluminum British lever made to fit a H-D clutch cable. We cut the neck stem on the Ceriani trees in half and extended to fit in the VL neck. The pipes were handmade. The top motor mount, the foot peg and brake setup, the kick shifter, the primary cover mount/taillight and license plate mount, the sissy bar, the mousetrap eliminator, and several other things I am
sure I am missing, were handmade, as well. I tried to use round stock and curved shapes for everything, to get a rounded, organic feel on the bike.
I decided early on to have a quality fit and finish to this bike, which meant polishing, chroming and powder coating all the parts possible. I had the cases and the heads on the engine polished, as well as the entire transmission. I had the cylinders powder coated silver. All aluminum was sent out to be polished; Gary at J&D Plating did all of my chrome plating and polishing. For the paint, I told Harpoon to do whatever he wanted, and he came through to perfection. For assembly, I used chrome
hardware throughout and used cloth-covered wire for the minimal electrics. In short, I spent way too much time and money to get this bike done-and clean looking.
After I made it look so pretty, I started riding it and promptly doused everything with oil. Eventually I found the crankcase breather was clogged,
forcing oil out of the engine in all directions. Once I repaired that, the oil leaking slowed tremendously. I rode all summer, it is fast, comfortable, and a real pleasure to ride. It looks nice and beat-up now, and it will look even better as I continue racking up the miles and flogging it around town.
Thanks go to Chris Lampman for all of his help building this bike, and all the 7th Street crew in St. Paul for their help and support.
I stole ideas from all over, but I got a ton of inspiration from Max Schaaf, Rockabilly Jay, Irish Rich, Arlen Ness’s old yellow VL bike and All Stubbings’ “Detail Freak” bike (both versions-early and late). Thanks to Josh Kurpius for taking the pics, respect!
David Polgreen and Chris Lampman
Story and Photos By: Josh Kurpius
Tech Sheet
General
Owner: David Polgreen
Fabrication: David Polgreen and Chris Lampman
Year and Make:
1961 Harley-Davidson
Model: FL Assembly: David Polgreen and Chris Lampman
Engine Year: 1961
Model: FLH
Rebuilder: Jason Clampett & Kokesh Motorcycles
Ignition: Morris Magneto
Displacement: 74”
Lower End: Stock
Balancing: Stock
Pistons: Stock
Cases: Polished Stock
Heads: Polished Stock,Repaired
Cams: Andrew B
Carb: S&S E
Air Cleaner: Velocity Stack
Pipes: Custom Built
Transmission
Manufacturer: Harley-Davidson
Year: 1953
Type: Ratchet Top with Kickshifter
Engine: Sprocket: n/a
Trans: Sprocket: 23
Wheel: Sprocket: 51
Painting Painter: The Harpoon
Type: You tell me
Color: A bunch, gold leaf under tank & fender
Frame
Manufacturer: Harley-Davidson
Year: 1930’s
Type: VL
Rake: Raked to 33°, new backbone, neck forging, motor
mounts
Stretch: None
Color: Black Powdercoat
Accessories
Bars: David Polgreen
Risers: Ceriani Integral
Fenders: Wassel Ribbed fender
Headlight: 4” Spotlight
Taillight: 50’s Norton repop
Pegs: Who knows
Electrics: Cycle electric generator, tiny capacitor
Gas Tank: Narrowed, sectioned and frisco’d sporty tank
Oil Tank: Santee
Seat: Modified Bates pan, covered by Sean at Fatlucky’s
Other: Imperial primary cover, Primo belt drive primary
Forks
Type: 32MM Flat Track
Builder: Ceriani
Wheels
Front
Brakes: None
Wheel: 21” WM1 Dunlop Tire: Avon Speedmaster
Rear
Brakes: 63’-66’ Hydraulic Drum
Wheel: 19” Excel Tire: Avon SMK II
WHat happened to the American Work Ethic?
There’s a certain kind of rider you don’t forget. The one who shows up early, leaves late, and knows every bolt on their machine because they’ve rounded a few and learned the hard way. They didn’t “manifest” their bike—they bled knuckles for it. And if you’ve been around long enough, you’ve probably noticed those riders feel a little more… vintage these days. Somewhere between carburetors and content creators, the American work ethic picked up a limp. Not dead—just scrolling. You can spot the shift at any meetup. There’s still the old guard: the guys and gals who worked overtime, skipped luxuries, and built their rides piece by piece. Then there’s a newer breed who seem convinced a dream bike should arrive like a pizza—hot, fast, and preferably financed at 84 months. Entitlement isn’t new, but it’s gotten a glow-up. It used to whisper; now it has a ring light. Scroll long enough and you’ll see it: pristine builds, perfect angles, and captions about “the grind”—conveniently skipping the part where the grind was mostly choosing a filter. When the highlight reel becomes the curriculum, people start thinking the trophy is step one. And let’s talk about the idea that everyone owes you something. The shop owes you a deal. The world owes you recognition. The road owes you respect. Newsflash: No one owes you S**t. The only thing the road owes you is a lesson if you come in sloppy. Motorcycles are brutally fair. Skip
maintenance because you “deserve” to ride anyway? The bike will educate you. Think skill can be downloaded like an app? Gravity offers a hands-on tutorial. Now, before we throw the entire next generation under the nearest lifted truck, let’s be honest—every era has its freeloaders. The difference now is scale and speed. Convenience is king. You can finance almost anything, learn anything in minutes, and broadcast everything instantly. That’s powerful. It also means you can look like you’ve put in the work without actually putting in the work. Appearance has never been cheaper. But here’s the twist: in the bike world, shortcuts
“Somewhere between carburetors and content creators, the American work ethic picked up a limp. Not dead—just scrolling. You can spot the shift at any meetup. There’s still the old guard...”
expire quickly. The riders who actually wrench, who respect the craft, who earn their upgrades one paycheck at a time— they stand out like polished chrome in a
gravel lot. You can hear it in how their engines run and see it in how they carry themselves. No hashtags required. There’s also a quiet rebellion happening. More riders are rejecting the “I deserve it now” mindset and choosing the long way on purpose. They’re learning to tune instead of tapping “buy now.” They’re riding within their limits and expanding them the right way. Turns out, discipline still works. Who knew? So what happened to the American work ethic? It didn’t vanish—it just stopped being automatic. Now it’s a choice, which means it’s rarer, which makes it more valuable. And maybe that’s not the worst thing. Because when everything is easy, effort becomes a statement. Out on two wheels, the truth is refreshingly simple. You don’t get respect because you want it. You don’t get skill because you watched it. And you definitely don’t get a well-running machine because you feel entitled to one. You earn it—mile by mile, bolt by bolt. If that sounds harsh, good. Bikes don’t care about feelings. They care about inputs. Put in garbage, get out garbage. Put in the work? Now we’re talking. The short cuts you take today can change your day riding to a day walking. Get off your ass and earn your stripes. Why? Because it’s the American Way. Simple is what simple does. See ya out there.
— Nefarious James
HUNNY NEEDS OUR HELP! PLEASE HELP!
She’s spent years by Craig’s side as an avid rider, known for her calm, loyal presence and the special bond she shares with him. Hunny has a personality that leaves an impression on everyone she meets, and she’s even been featured in Easyrider Magazine and Born to Ride, becoming part of a community that knows and loves her.
Recently, everything changed in an instant.
After an unexpected accident, Hunny suffered a severe injury—a comminuted fracture of her femur. She was rushed to the University of Florida Small Animal Hospital where a team of specialists performed emergency surgery to repair her leg using plates and screws.
The surgery was successful, and Hunny is now home—but the road to recovery is just beginning.
Over the coming weeks, she will require strict rest, medications, follow-up visits, and close monitoring to ensure her leg heals properly.
The financial burden of this level of care has been significant, with over $9,000 already incurred in emergency and surgical expenses, and additional costs expected as she continues healing.
Craig has been by her side through every moment of this. Like any devoted owner, he’s carrying both the financial strain and the emotional weight that comes with seeing a beloved companion go through something like this.
We’re asking for help to support Hunny’s recovery and give her the best possible chance at a full and comfortable life.
If you’ve ever loved a dog, you understand—they’re not just pets, they’re family. And Hunny means everything to Craig.
HALL OF FAMER VICKI “SPITFIRE” SANFELIPO AND TRIGGER, HER 1993 HARLEY SOFTAIL
Accident Scene Management founder, Vicki “Spitfire” Sanfelipo, was inducted into the Sturgis Motorcycle Museum Hall of Fame in August of 2020. Known as “Spitfire” by her friends, Vicki certainly lives up to that moniker. Ever since starting to ride motorcycles in the late 1980s, she’s been a bundle of energy. The single parent raised three young daughters and became a Registered Nurse at a hospital in Wausau, Wisconsin, finally settling in the surgery department.
In 1987 Vicki bought her first motorcycle and then in 1995, she joined the Governor’s Motorcycle tours as the only female Road
Captain and ride nurse. Shortly after, she attended a workshop presented by “Slider Gilmore” entitled Two Wheel Trauma. Gilmore, an EMT in Iowa, lectured on how to treat injured motorcyclists before professional help arrived.
Energized by Gilmore’s presentation, and with his blessing, Vicki authored a program she named Accident Scene Management (ASM), and along with three fellow nurses from Wausau Hospital, began teaching a “hands-on” class to riders in Wisconsin. The Wisconsin Department of Transportation learned of her efforts and supported her in presenting more classes for anyone interested.
Her devotion to education and saving lives led Vicki to leave her nursing career and devote her time as a volunteer director, educator and instructor trainer for ASM. Today, with instructors in states across the U.S. and in other countries, thousands of students have been trained in roadside assistance at motorcycle crashes.
Vicki’s every day ride is “Trigger”, her customized 1993 Harley that started life as a Fatboy. The only original parts left are the frame, transmission and rear wheel. The motor is an S&S 100ci 4x4 with a 585 cam and S&S shorty “E” carb as well as a Crane single fire ignition. Other details include Indian Larry rotors and GMA
brakes up front, a Springer front end and LED headlight, Chubby beach bars and a custom seat by Leather and Lead. The pipes are White Brother Porker upsweeps and Trigger’s Taildragger rear fender includes a Tombstone taillight and a full “real” horse tail.
The custom paint is by TS Customs and the graphic on the gas tanks says it all. Ride forever, Spitfire!
— Chopper Daddy Dave
Locked Down Prison Poetry
The rear-view mirror is small. It’s the front windshield that sees the new highway to our future. See a free bird fly hear a motorcycle ride by. Freedom is waiting for you and thank you for your poems as you are Born to Ride. — Ron Galletti Send Robert a Note of Encouragement
I’M GLAD I CALLED I’M GLAD I CALLED
“Oh, David,” My mother replied, “I’ve been having the most wonderful time.”
“What’cha doing?” I asked innocently in an effort to start the phone conversation.
“Oh, David,” My mother replied, “I’ve been having the most wonderful time.”
She went on to explain that during a recent visit, my sister had bagged up a bunch of clutter from the attic but before the bags were carted off to the dumpster, my mother wanted to have a look inside. If her enthusiasm was any clue, the discovery she made was significant. Next came the announcement that she had found all the sheet music from when she was in the quartet
“The Melodears” in Chicago back in the midforties, before she met my dad. Walking on air, she was leafing through the cherished musical scores, reliving memories of her youth and singing those wonderful songs.
“What timing,” I thought as I listened to her happy story. She went on to tell me that she had also found a music professor at a university that was interested in having the antique sheet music for their collection.
“That,” she said, “is much better than having all this wonderful music landing in a dumpster.”
The pleasant surprise of finding my mother so elated heightens my gratitude. I am very fortunate to have such a sweet, joy filled mother, looking for the beauty that surrounds her everyday. My interest piqued, after a moment I asked when her love for music began and about some of the memorable achievements along the way. Perusing the thought, she then giggled and began to tell me a story.
The first official announcement of her career intentions occurred during the height of the great depression in her homeroom class. The teacher went around the room asking each student what he or she wanted to do with their life. When her turn came she said “I want to sing” and the whole class burst out laughing.
Starting with voice lessons, soon she was in both chorus at school and choir at church and sang occasional solos. Soon with her long time friend Amy, she was part of a duet.
After High School she attended the Sherwood Music School where she had received a scholarship. At the first FM radio station in Chicago she was the program director with an emphasis on selecting peppy, vocal free music for her program “Music for War Workers” from a library of 78rpm records and even larger
commercial discs. While at the radio station she sang in a trio at church. Encouraged by one of her friends, an audition downtown secured a position for a rigorous season with the Municipal Opera of St Louis, where the company performed a new operetta every week.
After that, a tour with the Chicago Popular Opera Company took her on the road all over the country and to Denver where the company fizzled out.
Back in Chicago, an audition with an agent started a tour of state fairs and school assembly programs with the “Charm Quartet,” a trio of vocalists with a piano.
Becoming independent, the group became the ‘Melodears’ and at a church mortgage burning celebration she met the student intern assistant to the pastor who ended up also being invited to the choir party later on, but he would need a ride, so since my mom had a car, the girls went to pick him up and the rest is history.
As the wife of a pastor, my mother also became the choir director of the church. During thirteen years with the Civic opera in Springfield, Ohio, she sang the lead roles in two operas: “Samantha Southwick” and “Old Maid and the Thief” and supporting roles in all the others. One of my favorite memories is that of waking as a child to the sweet melody that slowly drifted upstairs and into my waking consciousness every morning. Mom would arise early to practice her scales at the piano each morning. This early imprint must surely have something to do with my continual enthusiasm for the morning and the attitude of expectancy for all that the new day brings.
She taught piano as head of the junior piano department at Wittenberg University for eleven years and later when we moved to Bloomington Indiana she taught piano and voice as well as when we lived in Arlington Heights, Illinois.
When my folks built their retirement home in the Ozarks of Arkansas, she continued singing and playing the piano. She remembers her voice teacher back in Chicago telling her “if you take care of yourself, you will still be singing at sixty-five.” At sixty-six she started her role as the paid soloist at the Christian Science Church and continued in that role for twenty years. She is still singing, as a testimony of the joy in her heart, at eighty-six.
My mother provided a tremendous amount of encouragement for me. She still does. When I was a child it was my mother that noticed I had a gift. I never had coloring books; she bought blank sketch books, and signed me up for drawing and painting workshops. Busy with creative projects, realizing that I was gifted never occurred to me. When the other kids in the neighborhood would ask if I would paint a “thus and such” for them, I’d say “yeah,” but the whole time I was painting for them, I’d be thinking, “Why don’t they just do it themselves?”
My mother’s example makes me think back and be grateful for the sequence of events that molded my career. As a teen, I apprenticed the sign painting trade, a trade that is extinct today, but it gave me the wet blend brush painting techniques, lettering
and layout skills that are part of what sets Letterfly apart from the rest today. The years as a carnival painter gave me a unique outlet to paint large entertaining scenic displays, fanciful enticing designs and food art of all types and, perhaps most valuable of all, effective marketing savvy at the grass roots level.
My goal of becoming the best sign painter in Jackson, Michigan was realized with the last three jobs being gold leaf signage on window glass coinciding with the computer beginning to take over that trade twenty years ago.
Fortunately, having a hand with an airbrush qualified me to excel in another genre; the fad of painting murals on motor homes had just begun. I moved into my RV full time and chased motor homes all over the country for nine years, completing a large body of work and accumulating the reputation that attracted the attention of the largest RV dealership in the country, which was in the midst of creating the “Disney World” of RV destinations. Having an artist in residence was part of their vision.
The endless stream of motor home customers lead to other opportunities. One had a Harley-Davidson dealership in Iowa. I was asked to travel and create mega murals inside and outside of their store. That started a series of motorcycle dealership mural painting projects across the country. While at these state of the art retail motorcycle dealerships, the art of hand painted pinstriping, a skill I had been trained in as a youth, was rekindled and started an endless stream of old school bike designs, flames and brush painted images of all kinds.
As the years go by and I grow artistically, spiritually and emotionally, my motive changes. At one time I was ego driven to be the greatest I could be. Now I realize that true satisfaction is the byproduct of being of service to others. My passion for painting is evidenced by the amount of completed work that continues to this day. With each passing year, the old time pinstripers and airbrush artists diminish, leaving a market to an elite few artisans that thrive creating art in the centuries old tradition to an audience that has been heightened to appreciate its uniqueness by the reality motorcycle TV shows. Like my mothers career unfolding one decade at a time, a sequence of events continues to unfold into mine.
Noticing my mother’s relentless singing, optimism and efforts to inspire others around her provides me with clarity. My goal is to be a true blessing to others and to have fun, while interacting with them and sharing the gift I have received from a heavenly source and strive to create memories for other people to cherish and enjoy. As I pause this day to appreciate the beauty I am surrounded with and the wonderful people I am of service to, the peace increases the level of joy in my heart and I feel like singing a happy tune, just like my mother.
I am glad I called.
Sincerely,
Dave “Letterfly” Knoderer Artist@Letterfly.com
Out of all the ‘biker exploitation’ movies I have reviewed, this one may be the funniest! The 1991 film features Billy Bob Thornton, MTV VeeJay Martha Quinn, and a few other B movie celebs. This movie has it all – hot chicks, lesbians, motorcycles, midgets and a troop of blind orphans - who wouldn’t love it? First off I must tell you the Chopper Chicks don’t actually ride “Choppers” but they do ride Sportsters, all equipped with engine guards and various custom paint jobs. The girls in the film are members of an all female motorcycle gang called the “Cycle Sluts” which in itself is funny. They do have the usual trappings of women traveling in groups, such as being on the rag, and searching for meat.
Anyway, the film begins when the Cycle Sluts cruise into the small town of Zariah looking for a good time. In Zariah, an evil scientist turned mortician has been killing local townspeople with the help of dwarf that he continually abuses. After turning the folks into zombies, he uses them as labor at an abandoned mine. The mine is too radioactive after underground nuclear testing to be mined by living people. He later admits the real reason he’s doing it isn’t for the money, it’s because he’s just plain mean. The zombies are released when a curious little boy opens a door in the apparently
abandoned mine, thus releasing the un-dead, and of course this act is his un-doing. In the mean time, the girls are in town, and decide to split up and go look for some meat. One of them is run over by the mortician, and is turned into a zombie, while the others find their way into various sexual situations with the local guys. This is where we first meet Billy Bob who plays the ex of one of the chopper chicks. They meet in a church where the dwarf is attempting to shoot her, and retreat to his trailer for some fun. Another mistake for the midget, and more punishment later, the zombies are still marching on, and they are getting hungry!
On the way to town the zombies encounter a group of blind orphans, who are stranded just on the outskirts after their bus breaks down. Luckily for the kids their bus-driver always keeps an Uzi on the bus (for sentimental reasons) and while the driver seeks help the kids (shooting blindly) manage to hold off the zombies until the chopper chicks arrive to rescue them in a hearse. Even though the girls are doing some good deeds, the locals don’t seem to like them too much and repeatedly attempt to run them out of town. That is until the town is overrun by blood thirsty zombies! But wait – the town folk refuse to help the girls fight the zombies because “they are all family.’’ Hordes of zombies begin eating their relatives as the girls fight them off. The dwarf decides to turn against the mortician, and tells the girls that the only way to kill the zombies is to “cut their heads off.” The chopper chicks use baseball bats, chainsaws, and other devices to do away with many of them, but just when they think they have won, dozens more arrive. The girls devise a plan to lure all the remaining zombies into the church using raw meat as bait. They load the meat truck with dynamite, and crash it into the church. The timer on the dynamite goes off and the church goes up in flames burning up most of the remaining zombies.
In the final scenes the Cycle Sluts are rewarded with a sack full of cash and induct the dwarf and several of the blind orphans as honorary members of their gang. They then ride out of town with some of the men folk (their new ‘bitches’) on the back of their bikes and toss wads of money into the wind as they roll down the road to a new destination and adventure.
This review could not possibly expose you to all the hilarious action that this film provides. It is sometimes so ridiculous that you would find yourself rolled up in a knot from uncontrollable laughter. It takes shots at old films, TV and life in general, but it never leaves you bored. I admit that I have a sick sense of humor, but for some unknown reason, I actually liked this film! (I usually don’t) Try this one out. It’s available on DVD from Troma Films, www.troma.com or at your local ‘strange DVD dealership.’ I have to give this one 4 out of 4 stars just because it’s super-funny. … Till next month.
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MAY I SEND YOU A MESSAGE?
code. On Born To Ride radio it simply has its own cameras and it’s a topic of discussion on most of the shows but not the most important of topics. I love doing Talk-Radio, and I know that Lynne and Eddie do also, but we are trying to do something good for our local community and worldwide.
With all the recent activity in my life, it becomes unusually difficult for me to enjoy just hanging out or being my usual rotten self. I have been constantly reminded of my degenerate lifestyle and lack of reasonable income, plus the fact that no matter what I do, some kind of crap comes up that prevents my happiness and success. Well, not really. I mean, it could be worse - much worse.
Here’s an example: I had to go to the office today to do some business and when I left there, RT60 was in total Eastbound chaos. There was some sort of serious accident involving a motorcycle which spread small pieces of debris and parts all the way across the 3 eastbound lanes. If I had arrived an hour later, I wouldn’t have been able to make the turnaround to the BTR office. Evidently, this was fairly serious and every type of police and emergency vehicle were present on the scene. Every month I remind all of you, my dedicated readers, to look out for and respect the motorcycle riders that are out there using our nation’s highways. I suspect that most of you actually have and ride a motorcycle, but this message goes out to the general public: Watch out for and respect motorcyclists and remember to share the road! Correctly. … And we all said please and Amen. (No, I’m not really a preacher)
Originally, I was going to write the majority of this story about Lynne’s hair. You see, Eddie and Lynne are Co-Hosts on Born To Ride radio on Tuesday night. We have a lot of fun doing it and it provides a ton of valuable information to those of us who ride. But Lynne’s hair is so large it allegedly has its own zip code and area
I can’t seem to avoid the “Talk-Radio” circuit because I have a really cool radio on the bagger, and infrequently the radio in my old pickup still works. I used to listen to the CD player on the bagger or try to find the ‘one out of many’ stations that didn’t play the same worn out seven songs between commercials. Good radio is hard to find nowadays – especially when you want to rock out or enjoy some progressive country music that doesn’t make ya want to cry in your beer. Anyhow, following talk-radio has brought me to the same plateau that watching television does. Maybe I shouldn’t say plateau, I should say cliff. Yeah you know, the one you wanna jump off when you’ve had enough BS in your life from the regulated media. And this revelation that I was given by listening to regular radio be it talk, music, or a combination of both brought me back to my abnormal reality.
So with all the aforementioned conflicting and sometimes useless information that I am supplying you, I decided to get back in the Internet broadcasting business, largely due to the fact that I had extra room in my new location and moreover my personal desire to try to make things better for the general public and bikers, whether that constituent is listening or not. Honestly, I hate to just talk about radio in general and I am continually trying to change it with the help of Born To Ride.
The truth of the matter is that wherever you go, you will still be exposed to the same ‘media’ slant that all the regulated outlets cram down your throat. Unless you live in a small town where you can actually call into a radio station and get your request played, you are pretty much stuck with what you get. … I am trying to change that.
For what it’s worth, I believe that in the very near future the Internet is where all you regular people will get all your entertainment. It’s alarming to observe the huge number of people who get all their content from their phones ... be it TV, radio, or movies the Internet has taken the forefront in the delivery of your content. For better or worse, just live with it. You are stuck with it.
Don’t forget to tune in to Born To Ride radio every Tuesday night between 8 PM and 11 PM. I thank you and so does Lynne’s hair. …
MEET JACLYN
Hi I’m Jaclyn, born and raised from North Carolina. Spread my wings to check out the sunshine state. Making my way to becoming a professional model and enjoy photography as well. I like taking the daring and free feeling a motorcycle gives; especially on a back road country drive.
Bike: 2010 CVO Convertible
Bike Owner: Randy Benson
Model: Jaclyn Beasley
PHOTOS BY DANIEL GALLANT
Yes, it happened My Born to Ride friends. Mother nature kicked me in my butt last month, literally! I can now honestly say I know how it feels to be a woman in the worst way. There were moments where things felt uncertain, but like any tough ride, I wasn’t going down without a fight.
Last month the avian overlords threw me a curve ball I didn’t expect—one that took the wind from under my wings and me off the road then threw me into a fight for my life.
I became egg-bound, and it turned serious fast. All my pumping, pushing, squealing and squawking wasn’t working anymore! I even let Mike’s little pinky finger slip up there to try and help it out, but to no avail…
this! Thanks to your pterodactyl typing talents, now everyone’s got the visual stuck in their heads! You’re pushing the story on the readers way more than you were pushing that egg out of your butt!”
I cackle, “OK sorry for the scare and the visual. Sometimes my tallons have a mind of their own and don’t know when to stop typing. You call it ghost writing…
Recently the great Dr. Sixto at the Animal and Bird Medical Center of Palm Harbor, granted me the green flag to return to my normality, riding the Harley. Mike took me to one of our favorite events, the Leesburg Bikefest.
During the last weekend of April, this sleepy little town has turned into a Mecca for bikers going on 29 years now. It becomes packed with venders, bands, daredevil acts and bike shows with every scoot imaginable and the most interesting people riding them. It’s still considered an oldschool bike event with so many mom and pops opening their doors and greeting all of us bikers
Give me a chance to explain, I’m a fertile Myrtle and i’ve laid over 14 eggs in the past 20 years, but this one could’ve been the death of me. Surgery wasn’t optional—it was the only way through. I had to have a good ole’ C-section and now I have the scar to prove it! Mike let’s loose, “whoa now my multicolored mockingbird. Slow down and stop being so explicit. I wish you would’ve left my finger out of
with a smile and wanting everyone to have the ultimate Leesburg experience and that’s just in the town. The area is full of great destinations and awesome roads getting there. In fact, there’s no way you can do it all and see it all in three days. Trust me, Mike and I have tried!”
Mike cuts me off saying, “well now my chirping chickadee the surgery hasn’t cut down your gift of gab. In all your bird babbling there is two things you did forget; our camping experience
MOTHER NATURE KICKED ME IN MY BUTT
at Windy Acres and your Benefit at the White Room in Land O’ Lakes.
”I screech over him, “oh my impatient daddy. I didn’t forget you just didn’t let me finish my jibber jabber!
To put it into perspective, Windy Acres was like a mini Roscoe’s Chili Challenge with the throttle pinned wide open and the rulebook tossed into the fire. When we rolled in, right away I knew… this wasn’t no kumbaya campsite—this was a full send no-pictures and take all prisoners kinda throwdown.
The bands were awesome, vendors had something for everyone, body painting was the norm, alcohol was flowing freely and the party games had everybody rolling in laughter. The highlight of the adult debauchery was definitely the women and men’s T-back tractor pull!
It’s a game where adults wear thong underwear then get hooked up to a sled and pull weights, trying to get it over the finish line 1st without breaking them. Mike made it very interesting by entering him and I. We made it to the semi finals until he got wacked with a ball buster, literally…
Sunday, my benefit at the White Room Lounge was also a blast. It may have been a bit more mellow but nevertheless, his biker games made it feel like a toned down Windy Acres for everyone that didn’t make it to the event.
The Born to Ride party at the White Room Lounge goes on every last Sunday of the month and is a great destination for riders all over Tampa Bay and beyond. But you don’t have to wait until then to make it a stop for your next ride.
Well, now that all my readers have been informed, my job is done. In a few minutes, I look forward to Mike getting my wings in the wind, a little fresh air on my C-section, his knees under the triple trees and the Fat Birds’ wheels rolling down the road to our next event.”
— SPYKE
Do you have a riding pet story? Let us know, Spyke wants to feature them! editor@borntoride.com
CHRISTIAN MOTORCYCLISTS ASSOCIATION
Not long ago, our CMA chapter set up a tent at a local annual bikefest. I headed over that evening to join the rest of the crew—talking with riders as they passed by, sharing stories, and offering Bike Blessings. For us, a Bike Blessing is simple: it’s a moment to pray over a rider and their motorcycle, asking God to watch over them on the road ahead.
As I stood near the tent, a gentleman walked up, and we struck up a friendly conversation. We talked about his ride to the event and what he’d enjoyed so far. Eventually, I asked if he’d like a blessing for his bike. That’s when he told me its name. He said his bike was called “Shiva.” He explained that Shiva is known in Hindu tradition as the god of destruction, and because of that, he felt a blessing would contradict the name he had chosen.
His comment brought me to a question that’s been on my mind: What’s in a name? I believe names matter—a lot. A name carries meaning. It reflects identity. Throughout history, names have revealed character, purpose, and sometimes even destiny. Some names inspire fear; others bring comfort. Parents spend time choosing names for their children because they want those names to speak life, strength, and hope into their future. Even nicknames can build someone up—or tear them down—depending on how they’re chosen.
What’s in a name? Scripture speaks powerfully about names, especially one name in particular. In the book of Acts, we read: Acts 4:11–12
“For Jesus is the one referred to in the Scriptures, where it says, ‘The stone that you builders rejected has now
become the cornerstone.’ There is salvation in no one else! God has given no other name under heaven by which we must be saved.”
So again—what’s in a name? According to God, everything. He has given one name under heaven by which we can be saved from eternal death and separation from God. Let’s look at that name:
Jesus means “Jehovah saves; God who is salvation; Savior”. His very name means the One who saves.
That’s not just a title. It’s His identity. His purpose. His mission. And it’s the name we call on for hope, for forgiveness, for protection, and for eternal life itself.
Teach’s Takeaway,
- Names carry weight. They shape how we see ourselves.
- Above every name—above every label, nickname, or title—is the name of Jesus. The name that saves.
- The name that rides with us wherever the road leads
Naming your motorcycle is common. Taking on a road name or nickname is also usual and customary. What you choose is very important. I often have this question: Am I ready to receive the outcomes of the names I have chosen if they were to be fulfilled? I encourage you to do two things. The first is to choose wisely when naming your bike. The second is to choose the name that is above every name. The only name that can save. Choose Jesus today. Ride together, ride safe, and ride on.
Fellow Soldier in Christ, Wayne (Teach) Masiker
Christian Motorcyclists Association, wayne.masiker@att.net
