Objective: Laughlin
Laughlin, Nevada: Site of the Annual Laughlin River Run, where an estimated 20,000 to 40,000 (mostly) Harley riders gather year after year to celebrate the virtues of clean desert living, $5.95 Prime Rib Buffets, and gambling. This year we were not going to be left out. Starting in early February our plans were formulated, hotel reservations were made, and routes were mapped out. Come April 18th, we threw it all out... The Men and Machines: Ducati M900 Monster: Once CEO Plummer's favorite pick in our Muscle Bike test, 400 miles through the desert on the Monster caused him to think again. During the long road home he was frequently heard asking, "Does anyone want to ride this thing?" It was the fastest of the bunch, but carried absolutely no gear. Therefore Mr. Plummer's only luggage was a toothbrush. This prompted him to constantly challenge everyone to a "Stink Contest." Harley-Davidson Heritage Softail Classic: Picked for its combination of classic styling and massive luggage potential, this beast did not disappoint.
The pilot, Todd "Gimpy" Canavan, was pleased with the S2's large storage capacity, and filled it to overflowing. After a good bit of chiding from Brent, he cut down to 4 pairs of socks, two pairs of skivvies, and a toothbrush (again, the rest of the space was filled with more electronic garbage). Harley-Davidson Fat Boy: Still hangin' out at the MO office after the Open Cruiser test ("just one more week, I swear..."), it was the sexiest bike of the bunch, albeit the slowest. The bike must have been hammered during break-in: the fully loaded Heritage (with passenger) would beat it during top gear roll-ons through the desert. Or, it could have been the sheer weight of all the junk that U.S. Director Len Nelson brought with him, including such sissy items as: deodorant, sandals, hair-care products, and five full sets of clothing.
Day One: Thursday, April 18th
The Journey Begins...
At 2 PM, after phone calls from prospective clients, network emergencies, and a case of milk we finally got underway. We chose a rather roundabout route, to try and avoid as much interstate travel as we could. We left L.A. heading north to the Antelope Valley, after which there would be no more freeway until Nevada. We took the Pearblossom Highway east to Victorville, then another two-laner into Yucca Valley. There we tracked down the local Harley dealer (Hutchins' Harley-Davidson, Yamaha & Honda) to get oil for the Buell. As it turns out, they were holding an open house for all those River Runners brave enough to leave the safety of the freeway. After gorging ourselves on free snacks and soft-drinks, we left civilization behind ... and got lost ...
Day Two: Friday, April 19th
Oatman, The Law, and The Smell of Success...
Day Three: Saturday, April 20th
Complete and Utter Losers, or The Quest for the Title
We quickly found the game was almost as much fun sober, and definitely more fun than most other things in this town. We quickly developed our individual techniques, and strived to perfect them. CEO Brent Plummer was the first to figure out a strategy more complex than "push right to go right - left to go left." After that we each tried to figure out our own strategy, of course stealing the ideas of whomever was winning. We also realized not all the bikes were created equally: one was dog slow, while another unfairly fast (we dubbed it "Gixer"). We switched off to be fair, but technique was king (see sidebar). Six hours and $120 in quarters later, we left feeling triumphant.
At this point we broke the herd. Brent and Len went to hang out at the "Show Your Boobs" sign while Todd, Billy, and Ann went to the Colorado Belle's dinner buffet. The buffet-goers gave the Belle three thumbs up, and afterwards went wandering the town. The boob-voyeurs sighted four pairs of flesh melons before hitting the $1 Corona bar again.
Day Four: Sunday, April 21st
Exodus
We hit bottom. We wake at eleven, glad that checkout is only an hour away. We couldn't resist the urge to spend another $20 on Suzuka 8 Hour on the way to the desk, but after that we bailed. On the way back to L.A. we took a bit more interstate than on the way out, and found time for a few backroads adventures.
We stopped by Hutchins' again to clean out the rest of their traveller's munchies, while putting more oil in the Buell. After that we headed south to the interstate, and rode the freeways to home.
The Aftermath:
Well, after MO's first bike rally, we must admit we had a pretty lousy time. It was preventable though, and we offer up a couple of tips from our experiences - Tip 1: Go with people who know where the parties are, or who aren't afraid to start one. Tip 2: Go to the less publicized rallies (the cops won't be out in force). If you would like to see more MO coverage of this sort of activity, send E-mail to: Brent Plummer, otherwise known as "the man with the AmEx."
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