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Benchmark

A Tribute to Arlen Ness, 1939-2019

Words & photography by Michael Lichter


From the earliest times, Arlen Ness was a trendsetter, quietly and steadily producing some of the most creative custom bikes the motorcycle world has ever seen. Many of his innovative ideas and designs evolved into popular styles and trends. Year after year, even when custom bike building was going through hard times, he came out with spectacular new machines that caught the attention of the media and the riding public.

It all goes back to a fateful day in 1963, when a 24-year-old Arlen drove by a Harley-Davidson knucklehead for sale while driving home after working his day job delivering furniture. With his wife Bev at home with their two-year-old Sherri and pregnant with Cory, Arlen took $300 of his bowling winnings to go buy the knuckle the next day. His friend Charlie had to ride the bike most of the way home, since Arlen had never ridden a suicide clutch, but he did get on it and, after killing it a dozen times, managed to pull it into his garage. Bev opened the door, took one look, and promptly slammed the door on him. 

Arlen rode that ’47 knuck everywhere. He soon made friends with other riders and got involved with the motorcycle scene. They hung out in Harry Brown’s Hayward garage, where Harry painted bikes on the side and where Arlen learned as much as he could by helping Harry out. All the while, he practiced his own paint, graphics and flaming techniques by working on Harry’s customers’ bikes, as well as his own Harley. Every year, that knuckle got rebuilt and was put into shows, but it was the Oakland Roadster Show every January that really mattered. It was 1977 when that knuckle, then known as Untouchable, finally won that “Show of Shows,” and then things really started to change. No longer was he going to rip apart the knuckle just to rebuild it the next year. Instead, he saved Untouchable as it was and began working on a second custom bike, thus starting what would become an impressive collection of one-off motorcycles.

Without realizing it, Arlen was also creating a model for an industry before an industry could even be fathomed, and it was one that has lasted for decades. Every year, after Arlen’s bikes won awards at bike shows, they got the attention of the press and got photographed for magazines like this one. Once on the newsstands, the phone at Arlen’s shop started ringing. 

Keep in mind, this was a time when prefabricated aftermarket parts were just becoming available, so there wasn’t much out there. When guys saw a set of custom handlebars in magazines, such as Arlen’s Ram Horn Bars, they snapped them up in record numbers. In fact, handlebars were the first Arlen Ness products available. “People seemed to like them, so I went down to Superior Tube, and they bent more up for me,” Arlen said in the book I wrote titled Arlen Ness: The King of Choppers “Then, I’d take them to a polishing shop, bring them back to weld the bungs in them, and then have them chromed. My first production may have been twenty sets. That was a big investment for me at the time, but people would see my handlebars in a magazine on a bike and they would call up to order them. I didn’t know anything about advertising.” 

Arlen realized that the average guy might not be able to afford an entire Arlen Ness custom bike like the ones they saw featured in Easyriders, but they could certainly afford a set of Ness bars, or mirrors or grips, and the rest was two-wheeled history.

All Arlen had to do (a bit of an understatement) was keep coming out with incredible customs and fabulous parts year after year, which is all he really wanted to do in the first place. One thing he learned along the way was to recognize his own shortcomings and make up for them by enlisting outside help to achieve something as outstanding as he envisioned.

Consequently, when the business was still small, he came up with the tagline “Quality Motorcycle Parts from California Craftsmen,” so whether a bike was being displayed at a show or featured in a motorcycle magazine, contributors like Bob “Mun” Munroe, Jim Davis, Danny Gray, Jeff McCann, Horst and Dick DeBenedictis were clearly identified and thanked. These craftsmen appreciated the credit, as well as Arlen’s sense of honesty, fairness and respect. Their response was to strive for perfection, producing the highest-quality work possible.

Following those fourteen years of working/reworking the ’47 knuck known as Untouchable, new bikes featuring his parts and accessories started coming out on a more regular basis. The first major custom bike to follow Untouchable came out later the same year (1977) in the form of a 2,000 cc twin-engine supercharged Sportster with two-Weber carbs, four oil bags, two batteries, and center-hub steering. Two-Bad, as it was named, certainly startled the crowds, especially when they got close to the bike, as Arlen would use a remote garage door opener to start the beast up from a distant vantage point. It was pure Ness.

At about this time Arlen, along with Dave Perewitz and Donnie Smith, started the Hamsters MC. This was a fairly loose group in the early years, but as time went on, it became a full-on club that focused on builders linked by their addiction to custom bikes. The Hamsters get together at rallies and events all around the country, although now their ranks have grown into the hundreds. Some of Arlen’s closest and oldest relationships have come through the Hamsters, which now includes both his son Cory and grandson Zach. To this day, you can see several hundred Hamsters riding in a pack as they pass through Sturgis, Daytona and other bike events in their distinctive yellow T-shirts. 

Back at Arlen’s Motorcycle Ness-eccities on East 14th Street in Sean Leandro (they were in their third location on the same street by this time in 1978), Arlen unveiled the antique-inspired Nesstique, with its thin chrome moly 5/8 tubing and 21-inch front and back wheels. A 93-inch shovel/knuckle dubbed Orange Blossom came out in 1984 in time to be included in the “California Dream” exhibition at the Oakland Museum of California. 

In 1986, there was the corporate-sponsored street digger Accel Bike, with its 90-inch knuckster motor (Knucklehead top end with Sportster cases), and then the drag-inspired Blower Bike came out in 1987. 1990 was a big year with Ness Café (possibly inspired by Willie G’s XLCR), as well as the Ferrari Bike that he had been working on for several years, going back to preliminary sketches in 1987.

The 1990s saw huge growth in custom motorcycling, and concurrent with this was Arlen’s most productive decade ever. He came out with many “signature” bikes reflecting different inspirations. Looking back to the 1960s, he came out with several very cool choppers like Yellow Knucklehead Chopper (1990), Red Flame Chopper (1993) and Green Flame Chopper (1995). Some of his most memorable customs came to life, like Nesstalgia (1995), which is often referred to as The Chevy Bike, as well as his Art Deco-looking Smoothness (1995) that was initially sketched out by Carl Brouhard, based on a 1932 Bugati Roadster sculpture Arlen has in his house.

Arlen’s Luxury Liner custom baggers started appearing in the late 1990s with Orange Luxury Liner (1997), and the green and white Pete Ardema-powered Overhead Cam Luxury Liner (1998). Another one of these Ardema OHC engines made expressly for Arlen was used in the All-Aluminum OHC Evo (1998). By 1999, theme bikes started appearing, like the Ness County Fire Engine Bike (1999) and Ness Patrol (1999). Finishing out the decade was another Art Deco-inspired signature custom named Arrow Bike that took inspiration from open-fendered cars from the 1920s and ’30s. 

By 2000, Arlen had entered the new millennium by making his son Cory vice president of Arlen Ness Inc., with the understanding that he would be responsible for the daily running of the business, while his sister Sherri headed up human resources and other business details. This gave Arlen, then in his early 60s, even more time to play with his bikes. 

The decade started with a very practical bike, Screamin’ Nessessity (2000) that he rode to Sturgis several times. This custom bagger, on a heavily modified FXR frame with a 21-inch front wheel, six-speed transmission, and a nine-gallon fuel tank, was geared high so the engine only had to turn 2,700 rpms at 80 mph — perfect for those long trips to Sturgis that Arlen so loved. Engines and wheels seemed to get bigger, as did Arlen’s enthusiasm as he moved to the current location in Dublin, California, which features a museum of all of Arlen’s favorite builds from over the years.

Then came The Discovery Channel’s Biker Build-Off TV series. Arlen was featured in two of these television specials, starting with a head-to-head against his son Cory in Hawaii in 2002. While Arlen lost this bout to Cory, it was a big win-win for Arlen Ness, Inc. with all the publicity it brought. For the second build-off against a young Roland Sands, they filmed the ride and finale on location in Puerto Rico. Arlen started with a unique, one-off frame that enveloped a 145-inch S&S motor. The engine itself was modified to an OHC design, and a supercharger with two S&S carbs added to maximize performance. Roland Sands also made a spectacular bike for this show and, in the end, while Arlen was announced the winner, Roland certainly didn’t lose; this episode helped launch his career and RSD business. 

One more major theme bike that needs mentioning was Arlen’s Jet Bike (2005). Arlen’s good friend Barry Cooney found the engine that originally came from a helicopter. Bob Munroe hand-fabricated the all-aluminum body, and Carl Brouhard painted realistic graphics that are so detailed, it seems rust has built up behind the painted rivets from so many flight hours. While the paint may be “faux,” there is nothing fake about the afterburner exhaust that shoots ten-foot flames.

Since the Jet Bike, Arlen continued to release one or two customs each year, although his focus moved to touring bikes, especially since he wanted a custom worthy of riding to Sturgis every year with his Hamster buddies. Many of these bikes have been on the Victory platform, since Arlen andCory had a strong relationship with the brand, most notably, designing the Ness Signature Series Vegas and Kingpin models. 

So, what was Arlen’s secret to success? Really, it wasn’t much of a secret at all. It all started with his manner and attitude: easygoing, honest, and always there with a smile. Add to this the team he assembled, which included not only those “California Craftsmen” he sought out from the very beginning, but also his many employees over the years and his incredibly supportive family. 

Arlen Ness will forever be known as one of the most esteemed and accomplished custom motorcycle builders in the world. He is the benchmark against whom all other builders are measured.

On July 12 this year, Arlen was to celebrate his 80th birthday. It has been an honor for Easyriders magazine to showcase his many amazing custom creations over the years though my contributions. Here’s to the “King of Customs.” He will be truly missed by his family, his thousands of friends, and the millions who love and admire his work and legacy in the custom motorcycle world. He was the best of us.

Death of a Dream

A Symbol of the Human Condition

Words by Forrest Minchinton | Photography by Harry Mark


We heard a sound, or maybe it was a murmur. The truth, we will never know. The pinnacles of the desert, a place where dreams go to die. Grand visions and hopes, materialized, but rarely sustained. The aftermath of such left to die a slow dissolve back into the earth. The wind, the heat, the cold, taking their toll year after year. What is left, future generations will guess the reasons as to who, why, where and what. The desert has this mysterious allure, the freedom, the solitude, the tranquility, and opportunity. The only things that remain are those unwavering pinnacles.

As the pioneers of the past set course on horseback with dreams and grand visions of freedom, liberty and opportunity, we too saddle up our motorcycles with dreams and visions. Our conviction comes from our machine. As the world evolves, and technology advances, the difficulties of our lives are supposed to lessen. But maybe that’s not how it’s should be. 

For what we need is not an easy life; what we need is difficulty. For this is what drives us forward. This is where our human instinctual senses thrive. Let us build the machine better, faster and lighter, to go higher, farther and faster. So we choose this machine, we choose this challenge. We want to feel alive, and we to want live every day and die on the last. 

For that I have chosen this machine. The motorcycle that sits beneath me is the product of 57 years of countless legends, blood, sweat and tears. The combined effort and sacrifice and untold experiences have culminated in this machine. The earliest grand vision and hope was the legend of Bud Ekins, who set out to ride his Honda from the top to the bottom of the Baja Peninsula. What he sparked ultimately transpired into many legends after him. Obsessions with conquering that 1,000-mile stretch of the planet. Many of them became heroes, legends and icons. Most of them aboard predecessors to this very machine. Some gave the ultimate sacrifice and lost their lives. Others were victorious. Ultimately, each one of those men lives on in this motorcycle. Their legacy carried on in the form of continued innovation, improvement and success. They all set out with a dream of conquering the desert and building a motorcycle to do it with. Most of the time that dream died during failure. What was born in its place was a vision. Reinforced with experience and humility. A vision that the race, the machine and the desert are much more. They are a symbol of the human condition.

Fragments in Time

Photography by Richard Chenet, 1977


Richard Chenet is a renowned automotive photographer who has been shooting professionally longer than most our readers have been alive. In the early days, he dabbled in the world of two wheels. His creative eye captured this set of experimental photographs which lived on slides, tucked away in a box for over four decades. Little did he know we would take such an interest in these images all these years later. Fragments in time preserved in an emulsion and finally brought to life to celebrate a time and place that would otherwise be lost and insignificant. There’s something beautiful about that.

Understated

The Ivan Tedesco Story

Words by Eric Jonhson | Photography by Drew Martin


Although none of the 32,000 fans crowding and shrouding the hills and flats around the Autodromo di Franciacorta in Northern Italy really knew it at the time, it would be the last major triumph of his racing career, and it was a big one. 

“Of course we can win,” said Roger DeCoster before the third and final moto of the 2009 Motocross of Nations. “Everyone around the team seems a little down, but we can do it.” 

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Way down deep in the middle of the Italian auto racing facility, the British race announcer could be heard over the public address system, repeatedly proclaiming to the fans that they were about to witness the “biggest race of the year.” He had it right. With the points spread so close among the nation’s top state teams, and with all of them in possession of a moto score they could throw away, the final result of the Motocross of Nations was a toss-up. Meanwhile, way back in the parc fermé, Team USA 450cc racers Ryan Dungey and Ivan Tedesco sat atop their respective motorcycles and waited.

“I remember before that final moto, Ryan Dungey and I had a little pow-wow,” said Ivan Tedesco, smiling as he reflected back on that sunny Sunday afternoon. “We said to one another, ‘Dude, we’ve got to get this done.’ I don’t remember much more than that, but I do remember the vibe of the conversation. It was like, ‘All right, we’re going to do this.’”

Ivan Lee Tedesco was born on August 12, 1981, in Albuquerque, New Mexico, with its riding areas abundant and skirting the high-desert community of approximately 1 million people. He followed his older motocross-loving brother Gio right into the sport.

“The whole dirt bike thing started for me with my brother Gio,”

said Tedesco, assuming a seat at a table nestled inside the Monster Energy/Pro Circuit/Kawasaki pit area at the second Anaheim round of the 2019 Monster Energy Supercross Series. “He’s about two years older than me, and ever since he was about four years old, he was just obsessed with dirt bikes. My dad bought Gio a bike when he was about ten years old. I was eight at the time. He brought my brother a YZ80 and brought it home, and I started crying because I wanted one. They went back down to the shop and bought me one. That’s basically how it started. I only got into it because my older brother was into it. Yeah, I cried, but I got a dirt bike!”

And as such things can transpire, the Tedesco family soon took to sportsman-level amateur motocross racing. “Basically, we jumped right in,” explained Tedesco. “We went to a local race about a month after we first started riding, and we also kind of found a local crew of guys that were racing and doing the amateur nationals and stuff. Actually, I went to Vegas for the World Mini about four months into racing. We just jumped in headfirst. Going into that race, I thought I was going to do pretty good, but I ended up getting 30th. I got smoked, and it was an eye-opener to me. It was like, ‘Okay, some of these kids are really good at what they do.’ From there, we just kept on going with it.”

Tedesco and family would return back to the Land of Enchantment and circle the wagons with a group of other young men who were also busily riding and racing away in an effort to make it in American motocross.

“I raced and rode with Justin Buckelew, and then there were all the Johnson brothers, and there was Ryan Clark; we all grew up racing together in New Mexico,” said Tedesco of his “little league” days. “There was a good group of guys that we all grew up together with. There was my brother and about five other guys. We were close in age, and it was pretty cool growing up in that group. We all rode with each other a lot and pushed each other.

“I’d say we got a lot more serious about the racing when I was around 12 or 13 years old,” continued Tedesco. “My last couple years on minibikes, I was winning some motos at some of those amateur nationals and running up front and showing that I was capable of being one of the guys.”

In the late 1990s, Ivan Tedesco, despite not winning an overall championship at the Loretta Lynn’s Amateur Motocross Championship, went into 1999 as a young racer with some potential. 

“My last year as an A-class amateur, I was a Yamaha kid. It was me and Justin Buckelew going for the premiere Yamaha ride at that time — which was the Yamaha of Troy ride. He was obviously better than me at the time, so he got the ride. I ended up getting a deal with Plano Honda, which was a privateer start-up team out of Texas. I signed with them in 1999 and rode my first two years professionally with them.”

By 2001, Tedesco was a top-five supercross rider — he placed fifth in the AMA 125cc West Region Supercross Series. Nonetheless, he knew he still had some ground to cover if he was to be a title contender in AMA Pro Motocross. 

“I got fifth in my first year in supercross in 2001, but outdoors was kind of a struggle for me. I did two years at Plano Honda, and then I signed a two-year deal with Yamaha of Troy in 2002. Yamaha of Troy was a solid team. At the time, it was almost as good as Pro Circuit. It was a top-level team, and they ran a good program. The whole time I was there, I felt like I was capable of winning a championship, but I just didn’t quite have it yet. I wasn’t mature enough as a rider.”

Ultimately, it all came out right for Tedesco, with his first major victory coming on April 5, 2003, inside the long-gone Pontiac Silverdome (destroyed in December of 2017). At my final supercross race with the Yamaha of Troy team — it was at Pontiac — I finally got a race win. I showed to myself that I could win.

You know, there is no feeling like winning. Winning is like a drug. You get an adrenalin rush, and you get addicted to that feeling of winning.

I think that’s where a lot of guys struggle, including myself. I got a taste of winning on the 250.”

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As a member of the prolific Monster Energy/Pro Circuit/Kawasaki outfit, Tedesco reached for a higher gear at the opening round of the 2004 125WSX at Angel Stadium and simply took off like a scalded cat, winning six of the first seven main events, and waltzing his way to his first AMA title.

“Going into 2004, I had the speed, and I also had this feeling that I was mentally prepared,” pointed out Tedesco. “I felt like something clicked within me, and I won seven out of eight supercross races that year and pretty much dominated. It was a huge year for me. I always knew that I had it in me, but to actually go out and execute was pretty cool.”

One year later, Tedesco raced away in the glow of his greatest season as a professional racer, winning the THQ AMA 125cc West Supercross Series Championship and the AMA 125cc National Motocross Series title. Tedesco was also handpicked to represent Team USA at the Motocross of Nations at Ernee, France, a race Team USA won handily. 

“Going into ’05, I knew I was capable of winning, but I wasn’t included in any of the talk of being a potential champion outdoors,” Tedesco offered. “James Stewart was moving out of the class at the time, so the title was kind of open that year. I remember reading some interviews at that time, and there were probably five or six guys on the list of who was going to win the title that year, and my name wasn’t on it. I remember being so mad about that! I was like, ‘I’m going to win this title.’ It was pretty cool to be able to pull that off. I ended up winning both titles in ’05, but for me, winning that outdoor title was huge. I wasn’t very good at outdoors coming into the professional ranks, and I just slowly progressed, and I proved to everyone that I could do it.”

Tedesco was tapped to ride the 450cc classification in 2006, and as a result, signed a contract with Suzuki to be Ricky Carmichael’s teammate for both 2006 and 2007. And while he didn’t win a main event during his tenure with the Rising Sun brand, Tedesco slotted in at a remarkable fourth overall in the ’06 Supercross Championship. 

“I moved up to the big class with Suzuki,” explained Tedesco. “I kind of had the opportunity to go anywhere, but I chose Suzuki just to go under Carmichael’s wing and to learn from him. I felt like it was a good move.

It was about the time that Ricky was moving out of the sport, so Ricky was real open to teaching me everything he knew. We had a good relationship.” 

Tedesco would race for Suzuki again in 2006, a major highlight of the season coming at the 2006 Motocross of Nations at Matterley Basin, England.

“That was a crazy story, because I wasn’t expected to race the Motocross of Nations that year,” Tedesco said. “I was at Glen Helen watching the last National of the season, because I didn’t race outdoors that year because of an injury. I saw Carmichael go down, and I went back to the truck after the race. Ricky had banged up his shoulder and Roger DeCoster pulled me  aside and asked, ‘Hey, you think you can race Ricky’s bike in two weeks?’ I said, ‘I guess.’ From there, I basically trained for two weeks, went over to England, and we pulled it off. I remember being so nervous before that race because I wasn’t prepared; I wasn’t ready to go race des Nations. Since the bike was already over there, they had to have somebody from Suzuki race.”

Yet the team, certainly along with Tedesco’s contributions, won the thing.

Tedesco won his last AMA Pro Racing event at Thunder Valley Motocross in Colorado at the high point of summer in 2009. Guiding his works Honda CRF450R up and down the track’s radical elevation changes, Tedesco left Denver with the winner’s trophy, saying now that “it was just one of those days where it felt like nothing could go wrong. It was an easy race for me.”

Three months later, Ivan Tedesco was chosen to be a part of Team USA at the 2009 Motocross of Nations. Set to run in the north of Italy during the first week of October, 

Tedesco looks back with a smile. “That was a cool day. We were called the B Team, you know? I guess they could have sent a better U.S. team at the time, but Dungey, Weimer and me got the call. You know, as far as the dynamics of the team, it was just a small group that went over there. To go there and win it — and just the atmosphere of that race that day in Italy — is something I’ll never forget.”

“I led my first moto for 20-something minutes, and then I got the worst arm pump that I’ve ever had in my life,” mused Tedesco. “We hung on, and we ended up winning it. That was probably one of the coolest moments of my career. To rise to the occasion in that type of environment was pretty tough.”

For the 2010 racing season, Tedesco teamed up with longtime friend and mechanic Frankie Lathem to go to war for the upstart Valli Motorsports Yamaha team out of Northern California. And while the dynamic duo didn’t exactly set the ever-spinning motocross/supercross off its axis, the two did enjoy the hell out of the year.

“That was probably one of the funnest years of racing I’ve ever had,” declared Tedesco. “It was me and my longtime mechanic Frankie Lathem, and we just kind of did our thing. We had a pretty good bike, and we actually did pretty well that year.”

All things considered, and after his career trajectory finally stalled out a bit, Tedesco agreed to terms to race for the Hart & Huntington Kawasaki in what was the twilight’s last gleaming of his run as a professional race.

“I knew it was kind of winding down by that point,” said Tedesco. “The Hart & Huntington deal came up through Kenny Watson, who was a good buddy of mine. They did supercross-only, which at that time worked because I was getting a little older. I was like, ‘All right, maybe this will prolong my career a little longer.’ So I did the two years supercross-only with Hart & Huntington, and that was pretty much it. It was kind of the end of the road, you know? You kind of see the light at the end of the tunnel and you say, ‘All right, this is it. I had too many crashes and injuries.’ It just got to a point where I wasn’t having fun anymore with the results I was having. I had won and been successful, and it’s just not fun when you’re not doing well anymore. It takes the fun out of it. I had my day, and I had a long career, and it was time to make the decision.”

The final AMA race Ivan Tedesco ran was at Budds Creek, Maryland, in July of 2014. Shortly thereafter, the New Mexican called time on what had been an excellent, steady and fulfilling career.

“Retiring was probably the toughest thing I’ve ever had to deal with in my life, honestly.

I’ve heard that from other guys, and you think about retiring from racing and you think all of the positives — yeah, you don’t have the pressure, you don’t have this or you don’t have that — but you’ve worked since you were a little kid for this one goal, and you’re so busy facing that, and then boom! All of a sudden, it’s over. It’s kind of weird to wake up without having that goal inside you, you know?”

As they say, good things happen to good people, and while a bit was lost after the supermotocross war was over, all it took was a few visits to the Pro Circuit race shop off the 91 freeway in Corona, California, for a wayfaring Tedesco to stumble upon a new line of work.

“So I was looking to get back in the sport, and I started talking with Mitch Payton and the boys there,” Tedesco said. “They were looking to maybe have somebody help with the testing and development of their bike, and I rode it a couple times, and we ended up doing a deal. I’ve been doing that for the last two years. I’m the guy who basically feels what the bike is doing and try to guide the team in the right direction so we don’t go off into left field. Basically, what I do is that we kind of have a game plan of what direction we’re going to go on the bike, and I try to execute that and present it to the guys once it’s in more of a fine-tuned state. Luckily, it has been pretty good. Everything that I’ve come up with they have pretty much liked. From what I see, I think it’s working.”

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When I asked Tedesco if he was okay with the way his professional racing career turned out, he just smiled that Hot Sauce smile.

“Of course. If you would have asked me that when I was 10 years old, and if you would have laid out my career in front of me, of course I’d be pumped. I was just a kid from Albuquerque who wasn’t expected to do anything. I feel like I made it to a pretty elite level in the sport. I can’t complain. The sport has given me a great life, and I’ve met a whole bunch of great people, and I’m still here. This sport is like a family to me. That’s why I’m still around. Otherwise, I’d be doing something different.”

Woman’s Best Friend

Jean Bolinger & Cricket Outlaw Moonshadow

Words by Ben Giese | Photography by Chris Matlock


When I arrived at a Las Vegas coffee shop one afternoon during the sweltering heat of summer, I rushed inside like a firefighter into a burning building.  Only I was the one on fire, and the sweet air conditioning inside was my only hope for survival. It was 106 degrees outside, and I sat there sipping on a cold brew, asking myself, “How could anyone live here?” 

Shortly after, Jean Bolinger and her dog Cricket walked in the door, completely unphased by the heat that was obviously killing me. Jean was wearing a black leather jacket, black leather pants, black leather boots and a sinister-looking black Biltwell helmet.  She took off her helmet and jacket to reveal arms completely covered in tattoos and a punk rock haircut with one side of her head shaved.  A real “don’t fuck with me” look that was slightly intimidating as I approached them to introduce myself. I began by complaining about the heat, of course. She laughed at my delicate nature and reassured me that these were mild temperatures for this time of year, and it really wasn’t a big deal. Cricket didn’t seem to mind it either as she patiently sat next to Jean wearing her micro-sized biker vest adorned with patches and a studded collar.

Jean proceeded to order a drink and asked me if I was one of those goofy guys that wears a rainbow-colored bubble shield helmet. Nothing like a little jab to break the ice. I laughed, told her “no,” and thought,  “What did I get myself into?” We spent a half hour or so making small talk and planning out a route to go ride and snap some photos of her and Cricket. Jean has a calm and confident demeanor, with plenty of attitude. I get the sense that she’s seen a thing or two — the type of person with more life experience than most. She’s a person with many layers — a badass on the surface who would slowly reveal an endearing softness. It’s always refreshing to meet unique and interesting individuals like this. 

Jean was born in Washington State as a Navy brat. Her formative years were spent living all over the United States and abroad. Always on the go, always landing somewhere new. This is where she originally caught the gypsy bug. She carried that sense of wanderlust into adulthood, living in both Northern and Southern California, Nevada, Colorado, Virginia, Japan, Washington, Oregon and Utah, to name a few. Never staying in one place for too long. She told me that she has always had a love for the Southwest, which is why she ended up moving here.

To anyone who knows or follows her dog, Cricket, on Instagram, it’s clear that Jean is an animal lover. The origin of this love for animals and her connection with animals and motorcycles goes way back to when she was just a little girl. Motorcycles and horses were both simultaneously integrated into her life at her uncle’s farm, where she learned to ride her first bike and also learned to ride horses. She spent her youth riding dirt bikes on the farm and competing nationally in equestrian events, including show jumping, dressage, equitation and trials. She eventually graduated to street bikes, accumulating over a million miles in 18 countries and across all 50 states. Throughout her life, she has refused to choose between riding bikes or horses, and still rides both to this day.

Jean tells me, “Horseback riding and motorcycling are so intertwined, I feel like they are two of the most similar experiences you can have in life. With horses, you have a large, powerful animal that you control through gentle and sensitive movements. You build a bond and rely on each other in a deeply connected way. Motorcycles are the same for me; you have a powerful machine that you are more successful operating with finesse. You eventually get to know every part of your bike. And the feeling of freedom, the power and the adrenaline you feel when riding horse or motorcycle are the same.”  

It’s an interesting connection, and cool to hear how these lifelong passions helped that little girl to develop into the woman she became. “As a young woman, being able to command a large horse or a powerful machine forces you to learn about your strengths and weaknesses and to mature rapidly to avoid being injured or hurt. You have to build and maintain a relationship with an animal that, quite frankly, could kill you or cause great injury. It’s the same with a motorcycle. Learning to communicate non-verbally with a horse, to read their behavioral cues, and to react appropriately, definitely helps in interpersonal relationships within your own life. Horses and motorcycles both taught me about the respect, confidence and the hard work required to achieve my goals.”

Jean’s love for animals goes well beyond just riding horses. She has owned bison, ostrich, emu and other various exotic animals, mostly coming from rescue situations. She has also bred over 100 species of reptiles and amphibians. But one of the most interesting things I learned about Jean during our afternoon together was her current career. She works for the federal government, traveling across all 50 states and U.S. territories via motorcycle, with Cricket by her side. Her job is to work with veterinarians at zoos and other federally regulated facilities that exhibit animals to the public to guide them and ensure humane animal care and welfare. She tells me, “I am grateful that my experience with exotic animals allows me to work behind the scenes with some of the very best zoos and marine mammal parks in the world. It is literally a dream job, and I love that I can make a positive impact on so many endangered and threatened species.”

Getting to know Jean and learning about her story was inspiring, but let’s not forget the main reason I drove all the way out to this godforsaken desert in the first place: To meet Cricket, the sweet little Boston terrier who has racked up more than 300,000 miles on the back of Jean’s motorcycle across 48 states, Mexico and Canada. Her full registered name is Cricket Outlaw Moonshadow. In Native American culture, animals with two different-colored eyes are thought to be connected with the spiritual world and considered to be good luck. Jean lived in Japan for a while, and in Japanese culture crickets are a symbol of good luck. So, “Cricket” comes from good luck, “Outlaw” is an ode to her biker lifestyle, and “Moonshadow” represents her multicolored eyes and the unique markings on her face, like the light and dark sides of the moon. Jean says, “It took me three months to name her after I got her. She was an old soul even as a puppy, and I wanted to take time to find a name that was as special as she was.”

Jean and Cricket are basically on the road full-time, typically spending only 45-60 nights at home per year. They travel by motorcycle as often as they can, and Cricket almost always travels with Jean. That dog has seen more miles in the last five years than most humans do in a lifetime. She’s got more friends than you do, too. In addition to visiting zoos across the country, Jean rides to various motorcycle shows, rallies, festivals and gatherings throughout the year. Cricket has become engrained in biker culture and a well-known member of the motorcycle community. With over 113k followers on Instagram, it’s clear that people love her. She’s become quite the influencer, even racking up a few sponsors along the way.

Dogs are wonderful companions, and humans have bonded with them for centuries, but these two obviously share something special. “Cricket came into my life after a significant loss that left me pretty shattered. I wasn’t exactly looking for another dog at the time. I got a call from a breeder with a special-needs puppy. She had failed her hearing test and was almost completely deaf in her right ear and very significantly hearing impaired in her left. The breeder knew I wouldn’t be able to say no once I met her, and she was right. We quickly bonded, and I decided to keep her.”

Jean continued to explain the impact Cricket has had on not only her life, but also how she helps other people. 

“Cricket is exceptionally sensitive and perceptive to people around her. She seems to always find the person in the room who needs comfort and goes straight to them. It’s almost inevitable, if I’m at a big event, someone ends up on the ground with her, with tears in their eyes, as she comforts them. They tell me about some major traumatic life event that has recently occurred (like the loss of a longtime pet or family member), and how they really needed her love at that moment. She has a way of finding the one person going through some type of internal trauma and smothers them with love. I’ve literally had strangers sobbing, holding my dog, thanking me for sharing her with them. I also take her to the VA hospitals and veterans’ home as a therapy dog, where she spends time with veterans who have PTSD and TBIs. She has also done quite a bit of therapy dog work with pediatric brain tumor warriors. She is so gentle and loving to everyone.”

Jean and Cricket are a dynamic duo that have been gifted with the amazing opportunity to live a life in motion, chasing experiences, seeing new places, collecting beautiful moments, building community and making a positive impact on the world. I drove out here to tell the story of an amazing dog, but I ended up getting to know an inspirational human, as well. The wheels keep turning, and Jean and Cricket keep moving, making this world a better place one day at a time.

Travels with Jason Lee

A Decade on the Road

Written by Jon Beck | Photography by Jon Beck & Jason Lee


I’m walking around New Jersey, having just concluded several days of filming on a motorcycle. Exploring these old neighborhoods on foot makes a person want to skate. Infrastructure built upon the forgotten remnants of itself creates an accidental canvas of creative possibilities. Hiding in plain sight, a broken section of retaining wall points the way over a grassy bank to a misshapen sidewalk slope just beyond. In many ways, a skater’s eye is trained to see beauty and utility in the abandoned and the broken.

Jason Lee is a legendary skateboarder who has translated this aesthetic into a series of photo essays spanning over 10 years. With an arsenal of older cameras, Jason has been steadily building a library of black-and-white slides, color films and Polaroids that are a record of what would otherwise be forgotten America. Sharing a passion for film photography, Jason and I have traveled through portions of the U.S. and Mexico over the years, cameras in tow. On a recent road trip from California to Texas, we revisited some locations from early trips a decade ago. Visible changes over the 10-year span were striking in some cases, and barely perceptible in others. 

Having a tangible, analogue record of everyday people, locations and events creates a more honest historical archive. Where monuments, natural wonders and featured destinations perhaps represent the lion’s share of usual road-trip documentation, the vast majority of what exists on most any journey lies in the supposedly mundane. Life’s narrative is composed mostly of gaps … and written in silence. 

Brevity

Everything is Temporary

Written by Ben Giese & Derek Mayberry
A film by Voca Films | Photography by Jimmy Bowron


Deep in the heart of Colorado’s San Juan Mountains, we ventured to a place where spirits hover in the ether, and the relentless passage of time becomes apparent in the death, decay and life all around us. Colorado is estimated to have had more than 1,500 ghost towns, of which only 640 currently remain. The idea was to spend a few days exploring and appreciating these forgotten relics of the past, but what we found when we arrived was something much more transcendental.

A few hundred miles from Denver, the pavement ended and the hands of time wound back as we navigated the loose rocks and challenging terrain of Colorado’s Alpine Loop. Thunderstorms loomed at our backs, and our motorcycles dotted the high-elevation landscape like obscure pixels on a digital canvas. As we crested the final switchback of Cinnamon Pass and began our descent into the valley below, we could finally see our destination, the small ghost town of Animas Forks.  

This rugged patch of earth is so harsh and remote, we sat there in awe questioning how it was possible for those original settlers to arrive here and build a thriving mining community. At 11,200 feet, the town rests on the edge of treeline, exposed to high winds, avalanches and brutal low temperatures. It’s no place for those of a delicate nature.

Against a backdrop of flowering meadows, the timeworn wooden buildings stand in stark contrast to the surrounding summer blooms – a clear depiction of the struggle between man’s creations and the unforgiving alliance between Mother Nature and Father Time. Off-grid and cut off from modern-day conveniences, there was an awareness between all of us of how vulnerable life was in such a remote and brutal location. 

We explored the area with a sense of respect and appreciation for what it took to live off this land. We could still feel the strife under our feet as we examined the precarious timber framework of the town’s mill. There was a sense of brevity among us as we inspected the last remaining artifacts from a time where only the hardened prospered.

This town was built upon the backs of prospectors, mine workers, and gritty townspeople who didn’t care that future generations would be so enamored by the structures’ skeletal remains over a century and a half later. The first cabin was built in 1873, and by 1876 the town contained 30 homes, a hotel, a general store, a saloon and a post office. At its peak in 1883, Animas Forks was bustling with life, with more than 450 residents. But when mining profits began to decline in the early 1900s, the mines began to close. Mill towns were abandoned when the mining towns they serviced closed. Coal towns were abandoned when the coal (or the need for it) ran out. Stagecoach stops were abandoned when the railroad came through, and rail stops were deserted when the railroad changed routes or abandoned the spurs. By 1920, Animas Forks was a ghost town. Here one moment and gone the next. A memory that will eventually be forgotten, swept away by the sands of time. Like all things. 

If there is one thing we can learn from history, it’s that change is the only constant, and everything is temporary. Death breeds life. It’s all nature. It’s all a cycle. And it’s all guided by the unstoppable force of time. Witnessing the decay of these structures opened our minds to these ideas, and that realization became the theme of our trip, and this issue.

Dusk began to make an appearance, and it was time to continue on. Recent mudslides and remnants of an an avalanche kept us from our planned route out, forcing us to take a longer, more difficult path. It was like a rite of passage, as if the ghosts of Animas Forks were testing our mettle.

As darkness crept in, our broken bikes and exhausted bodies eventually made it back to modern-day civilization. We shared a meal and reflected on the realization that we are all a very small part of something much bigger. That our existence is temporary, and it’s up to us to carry a sense of appreciation throughout our daily lives for the time we have here. We are the sum of our experiences, and we should be grateful that life takes us where it does, however brief that may be.

Eventually the earth will reclaim what remains of these old mining towns. Time devours everything. Be it in the form of flesh or steel, everything inevitably returns to its carbon beginnings. Birth. Life. Death. Decay. Rebirth. We all come from the same matter, and we are all a part of nature’s beautiful, never-ending cycle.

Forever Forward

Volume 016: Available Now

Words by Ben Giese | Photos by Jimmy Bowron


“Lost, yesterday, somewhere between sunrise and sunset, two golden hours, each set with sixty diamond minutes. No reward is offered, for they are gone forever.”

—Horace Mann

The creation of this issue has opened us up to new perspectives on life and death, the passage of time and our connection to nature’s beautiful never-ending cycle. This inspiration began on a journey to uncover a Colorado ghost town hidden deep in the Rocky Mountains. We learned a thing or two observing those forgotten relics of the past as they decayed back into the mountains from which they came. We left with a greater appreciation for the brevity of our existence. Jason Lee’s photography is much the same, showcasing a stark contrast of beauty in the mundane, preserving moments and places that would otherwise be overlooked. We fell in love with these sentiments because most of life’s moments pass by without us even noticing. An awareness to appreciate and embrace those fleeting moments changes everything. That’s why we were so attracted to Richard Chenet’s photo series from 1977. Fragments in time preserved in an emulsion and brought to life over four decades later to celebrate a time and place that would otherwise be insignificant. 

As we watch the leaves change this year we’ve realized that our existence is no different than those glowing golden hues. Here one moment and gone the next, only beautiful because it’s temporary. Forrest Minchinton had these same thoughts when he rode into the sunset of an ancient desert landscape. Life comes and it goes, and the desert is all that remains. Nature always wins. It never fails. Everything is temporary. It’s like when Ivan Tedesco reflects on his incredible racing career, or when we look back at the legacy left behind by bike builder Arlen Ness. The past is gone, and the future doesn’t exist. All we have is now. This was exemplified the hard way this year with the passing of two motorcycle legends, Jesse Combs and Carlin Dunne.

So, the question is: What will you do with all those little moments once you realize how valuable they are? There is a big difference between living and being alive. Keith Saarloos put this awareness into practice over the summer on a 10-day ride with Carey Hart. Letting go and embracing the present brought a whole new meaning to that ride and even a few tears to his eyes. Jean Bolinger and her dog, Cricket, are making the best of their moments, too, taking life one mile at a time on the seat of a motorcycle. 

The sun rises and sets. The seasons change. The years roll by and the world keeps spinning. Time moves forward as our story is still being written. We enjoy this process because these moments are all we have. Grab life by the bars and keep the wheels turning. Forever in motion. Forever forward. 

016 Contents

008 | INTRO Forever Forward

014 | TRAVELS WITH JASON LEE A Decade on the Road

024 | WOMAN’S BEST FRIEND Cricket the Boston Terrier

036 | DEATH OF A DREAM A Symbol of the Human Condition

048 | BENCHMARK A Tribute to Arlen Ness

056 | BREVITY Everything is Temporary

070 | UNDERSTATED Ivan Tedesco

084 | FRAGMENTS IN TIME Photography by Richard Chenet, 1977

096 | ALIVE & WELL Good Times with Carey Hart

106 | RESERVE Revival Limited

108 | REVERB Music selection curated by Forrest Minchinton

110 | A LETER TO CARLIN DUNNE By Dana Brown