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Motorcycling Lifestyles
BIKES: Del Mar Déjà vu
Nolan Woodbury heads to 'Celebration of the Motorcycle' in Del Mar California.
This trip was more of an uncanny recreation of a journey taken long ago. (Photo: Nolan Woodbury)
We've all experienced it, that strange, familiar feeling of being wherever we are, before. Some call the phenomenon 'hyper consciences' but New Age slang doesn't accurately describe what happened on my way to 'Celebration of the Motorcycle' in Del Mar California. This was more of an uncanny recreation of a journey taken long ago. Besides, this title sounds better than 'Del Mar Do Over' so it's staying.
Recalling the fun last fall, no sooner were the dates announced for this year's So Cal extravaganza that Jonzo Cerilli and I began making plans to ride out again. Revived from a decade-long sleep, co-organizers Theresa Worsch and Dan Reichel (who, along with Theresa's late husband combined as the driving force for past events there) found the motivating force Del Mar needed from Tim and Julie Henry, then combined to pound out a spectacular show with very little advertising or promotion. Confident in the success of 2011's Del Mar Classic, the team forged ahead with plans for bigger and better things. Cameras ready and motorcycles primed, all systems showed green.
Sadly, an urgent need to visit his elderly parents in Florida forced JJ to bow out. Resigned to ride it alone, inspiration struck on the way to Merry's for dinner. “I'd like to go” said my old friend Richard on the other end. “I'll call you tomorrow night and let you know.” Not waiting, my phone rang early the next morning. “I'm in” said the voice, rising above the clatter of wrenches. “Meet me at the Shell station on Interstate 8 and Highway 85. Ten AM. You remember the place? Just like back in '96.”
Bright, clear and cool on the last weekend in October I find myself lost in thought, steering the Le Mans due west across the Eight at a steady eighty-five. Richard remembers it better, but my enactment of that sixteen-year old recollection finds a younger version of yours truly rumbling down this same exact road, at roughly the same time of year. “Nice Guzzi” I heard over my shoulder after stopping for fuel in dusty Gild Bend. “Where you headed?” That question came from Richard Souligny; a short, stocky, world-class jeweler who wears the same silver earring and handlebar mustachio today. When I answered Del Mar, Richard said he was headed there too. Did I want some company? The answer is now obvious but for the life of me, I can't recall a single mile of it. This year, I beat Richard to Gila Bend by ten-minutes and sneaked up behind him. “Nice Guzzi” I say and he spun around, whipping off his helmet with a knowing smile. Soon, we're traveling together again, like many times since that day. Through rain, fog or dark. All over the western half of the USA. Good times and bad. It's always great.
Then, as now, our lodging waits at the home of Bill and Moni Ross, who long ago tossed out the burden of formality. Just show up and expect food, drink and a place to sleep. That's how it is now, and that's how it was in 1996. I was riding a CX100 then, cut up to look like an 850 Le Mans. Richard was on a R80. “I've always liked the Guzzi. Is it a good bike?' he asked. Recently, I found out that Richard bought his first Moto Guzzi -a 1987 Le Mans 1000 SE- that same weekend. And the story gets better.
With no car show, this year's event was moved to Sunday. With a free Saturday, Bill, Richard and I bopped around Escondito and the foothills, visiting pals and spying several restoration projects. I was on auto pilot, content to follow Bill's always interesting lead. Following some of the popular shows like Mid-Ohio, Del Mar has adopted the 'feature marquee' theme, with Vincent getting the call for 2012. “There's a pre-show Vincent owners party and we're invited” Bill announced. Dressed like three island manikins, our goofy trio set off for more moto-fun with a stocked cooler to aid in the cause.
On the drive over, Bill explains that local Vincent enthusiast Mitch Talcove is hosting the party, and with many Vincent owners both living here and visiting this weekend, we should expect a crowd. Winding through an upscale Carlsbad neighborhood we arrive at a lovely bungalow-style home and search for a place to park. “I've been here before” says Richard. “I've been to this house.” Thinking Richard might have sampled a few 'refreshments' on the way over, Bill and I look at each other and shrug. There were Vincents everywhere; inside and out. Dickerson's record-holder was showcased majestically in the dining room, others were stashed in the den. Some were ridden in, backed up to the curb and a few more we found in the garage being prepped for the show. That's where we found Mitch.
“Do you remember me?” Richard asked, boldly walking up to Mitch and offering him a cold bottle. “No,” he answered, opening it and taking a drink. Looking at a photo mural on the wall, Richard snatched an old, curled photograph and showed it to him. “Now do you remember me?” Laughing, the pair got reacquainted while Bill mingled and I snapped photos. “This is my friend Nolan. I met him on the road, the day before I met you. We've been pals ever since. He was riding a Guzzi. I always wanted one, but seeing his pushed me to get one of my own. I met you the next day and bought your Le Mans.” “Where is it now, do you still have it?” Mitch asked. “No. Crashed. Years ago, by the guy who bought it from me. But I've got four others” Richard said, whipping some photos from his shirt pocket.
I'm nearly out of space and it just occurred to me I haven't mentioned the show. Suffice to say it was a smashing success; perfect weather, incredible bikes, and over 8000 people showing up to take it all in. You can view the gallery here, but do yourself a favor and go. Just do it. You won't be disappointed.
The next morning, Bill and I rose from an exhausted sleep and rode to Julian for coffee and pie. Not feeling well, Richard left the event early and headed back on his stunning, custom-built V11 Sport, wearing his trademark, skin-tight Bates leathers. Seventy-years young on his next birthday, Bill remarked with awe how Richard was still able to travel such distances on a dedicated sport bike. We talked for a long time, Bill and I. Talked like brothers do. We didn't want to say goodbye, but we eventually did. Alone for the first time in days, I felt lonely for the first time in years. I wonder why?
Maybe it's because for the first time, I'm beginning to realize that without the people, my love for motorcycles would be a hollow vessel. Lord willing, I'll be on the road for many, many years to come, but I've reached the age where I know it won't last forever. Nothing does. When my riding days are over, I'll marvel at the fact that nothing happens without a reason. Not the most casual hello, the routine gas stop, or acknowledging a friendly stranger in the middle of nowhere. I'll remember them. Nuts and bolts are great, but friendship is the glue that holds motorcycling together.
- Nolan Woodbury (Motojournalist/photographer)
To see more photos from the event click the photo below!
Recalling the fun last fall, no sooner were the dates announced for this year's So Cal extravaganza that Jonzo Cerilli and I began making plans to ride out again. Revived from a decade-long sleep, co-organizers Theresa Worsch and Dan Reichel (who, along with Theresa's late husband combined as the driving force for past events there) found the motivating force Del Mar needed from Tim and Julie Henry, then combined to pound out a spectacular show with very little advertising or promotion. Confident in the success of 2011's Del Mar Classic, the team forged ahead with plans for bigger and better things. Cameras ready and motorcycles primed, all systems showed green.
Sadly, an urgent need to visit his elderly parents in Florida forced JJ to bow out. Resigned to ride it alone, inspiration struck on the way to Merry's for dinner. “I'd like to go” said my old friend Richard on the other end. “I'll call you tomorrow night and let you know.” Not waiting, my phone rang early the next morning. “I'm in” said the voice, rising above the clatter of wrenches. “Meet me at the Shell station on Interstate 8 and Highway 85. Ten AM. You remember the place? Just like back in '96.”
Bright, clear and cool on the last weekend in October I find myself lost in thought, steering the Le Mans due west across the Eight at a steady eighty-five. Richard remembers it better, but my enactment of that sixteen-year old recollection finds a younger version of yours truly rumbling down this same exact road, at roughly the same time of year. “Nice Guzzi” I heard over my shoulder after stopping for fuel in dusty Gild Bend. “Where you headed?” That question came from Richard Souligny; a short, stocky, world-class jeweler who wears the same silver earring and handlebar mustachio today. When I answered Del Mar, Richard said he was headed there too. Did I want some company? The answer is now obvious but for the life of me, I can't recall a single mile of it. This year, I beat Richard to Gila Bend by ten-minutes and sneaked up behind him. “Nice Guzzi” I say and he spun around, whipping off his helmet with a knowing smile. Soon, we're traveling together again, like many times since that day. Through rain, fog or dark. All over the western half of the USA. Good times and bad. It's always great.
Then, as now, our lodging waits at the home of Bill and Moni Ross, who long ago tossed out the burden of formality. Just show up and expect food, drink and a place to sleep. That's how it is now, and that's how it was in 1996. I was riding a CX100 then, cut up to look like an 850 Le Mans. Richard was on a R80. “I've always liked the Guzzi. Is it a good bike?' he asked. Recently, I found out that Richard bought his first Moto Guzzi -a 1987 Le Mans 1000 SE- that same weekend. And the story gets better.
With no car show, this year's event was moved to Sunday. With a free Saturday, Bill, Richard and I bopped around Escondito and the foothills, visiting pals and spying several restoration projects. I was on auto pilot, content to follow Bill's always interesting lead. Following some of the popular shows like Mid-Ohio, Del Mar has adopted the 'feature marquee' theme, with Vincent getting the call for 2012. “There's a pre-show Vincent owners party and we're invited” Bill announced. Dressed like three island manikins, our goofy trio set off for more moto-fun with a stocked cooler to aid in the cause.
On the drive over, Bill explains that local Vincent enthusiast Mitch Talcove is hosting the party, and with many Vincent owners both living here and visiting this weekend, we should expect a crowd. Winding through an upscale Carlsbad neighborhood we arrive at a lovely bungalow-style home and search for a place to park. “I've been here before” says Richard. “I've been to this house.” Thinking Richard might have sampled a few 'refreshments' on the way over, Bill and I look at each other and shrug. There were Vincents everywhere; inside and out. Dickerson's record-holder was showcased majestically in the dining room, others were stashed in the den. Some were ridden in, backed up to the curb and a few more we found in the garage being prepped for the show. That's where we found Mitch.
“Do you remember me?” Richard asked, boldly walking up to Mitch and offering him a cold bottle. “No,” he answered, opening it and taking a drink. Looking at a photo mural on the wall, Richard snatched an old, curled photograph and showed it to him. “Now do you remember me?” Laughing, the pair got reacquainted while Bill mingled and I snapped photos. “This is my friend Nolan. I met him on the road, the day before I met you. We've been pals ever since. He was riding a Guzzi. I always wanted one, but seeing his pushed me to get one of my own. I met you the next day and bought your Le Mans.” “Where is it now, do you still have it?” Mitch asked. “No. Crashed. Years ago, by the guy who bought it from me. But I've got four others” Richard said, whipping some photos from his shirt pocket.
I'm nearly out of space and it just occurred to me I haven't mentioned the show. Suffice to say it was a smashing success; perfect weather, incredible bikes, and over 8000 people showing up to take it all in. You can view the gallery here, but do yourself a favor and go. Just do it. You won't be disappointed.
The next morning, Bill and I rose from an exhausted sleep and rode to Julian for coffee and pie. Not feeling well, Richard left the event early and headed back on his stunning, custom-built V11 Sport, wearing his trademark, skin-tight Bates leathers. Seventy-years young on his next birthday, Bill remarked with awe how Richard was still able to travel such distances on a dedicated sport bike. We talked for a long time, Bill and I. Talked like brothers do. We didn't want to say goodbye, but we eventually did. Alone for the first time in days, I felt lonely for the first time in years. I wonder why?
Maybe it's because for the first time, I'm beginning to realize that without the people, my love for motorcycles would be a hollow vessel. Lord willing, I'll be on the road for many, many years to come, but I've reached the age where I know it won't last forever. Nothing does. When my riding days are over, I'll marvel at the fact that nothing happens without a reason. Not the most casual hello, the routine gas stop, or acknowledging a friendly stranger in the middle of nowhere. I'll remember them. Nuts and bolts are great, but friendship is the glue that holds motorcycling together.
- Nolan Woodbury (Motojournalist/photographer)
To see more photos from the event click the photo below!
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