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by Frank L. “Cranky Frankie” Palmeri


    My path to the 47th annual AJS-Matchless Jampot Rallye, the longest running British motorcycle rallye in the US, was very different this year. Prior to this rallye, I was at Americade in Lake George for one week, then at the International Norton Owner’s Association rally in Woodstock, NH for another week. All the while dealing with “dry socket” from what should have been a very ordinary tooth extraction. What’s dry socket, you say? Imagine sticking a hot 50 watt soldering iron on your gums. That’s dry socket.


    I planned to leave for the Blackthorne Resort in East Durham, NY on Friday afternoon around 2PM. This gave me much needed morning time to take care of the house since I had been gone so long. When I left my home in Guilderland, NY (just outside of Albany) on my 2013 Harley-Davidson Electra Glide Ultra Classic “Ruby,” the skies were already darkening. I wasn’t too concerned as the “heat dome” that had settled over the Northeast the past week was, I thought, finally moving on. I mean, how much more Florida-like heat, humidity, and unsettled weather could possibly be left? A lot, it turns out.


    Within minutes of settling in for the ride the skies opened up with powerful rain coming in sideways. The wind was so strong, it just pushed the rain right into me. Visibility was very, very limited. At that point, since it was only getting worse the more I headed south, I made a bee-line back home. I may be old but I’m not stupid. I don’t have to pee on the electric fence to see whether it’s on or not, haha.

    When I got home I called the Blackthorne and told them I wasn’t going to make it on Friday night because of extremely dangerous riding conditions, but they adamantly refused to refund my deposit for that night (they made me pay for Saturday). I guess they really need that hundred bucks. As bad as getting screwed out of my deposit is, it was much worse for Jampot regular Ben English.

    Ben left the Norton rally on Friday with Murray from New Zealand, heading for the Blackthorne. Same riding conditions as I have described. Totally unsafe. Somewhere in MA there was a tree down across the road, but high, such that Ben hit it right on his neck, just under his helmet. He was thrown off the bike, yet somehow managed to continue to the Blackthorne, even eating a burger, before making to the ER where, as I write this, he’s still waiting to see an ENT specialist. In my close to 45 years of riding I’ve never seen a tree across the road at that height like that. Ben is lucky his head is still attached to his body.

    I finally made it to the Blackthorne early Saturday morning. The crowd was less that it used to be – much less – but a good core group remains. Trust me if you are reading this, there is just nothing like the Jampot Rallye if you love motorcycling. It is raw, unruly, unscripted, and just a complete blast. Kahuna for Life John Les puts his well worn heart and soul into it, and deserves plaudits and salutations for keeping the tradition alive as well as he has. Thanks Brother, you rock.

    Since Ben was to be our Saturday ride leader, we needed a backup plan. I proposed a ride to the awesome MotoCafe in Hudson, but the weather for riding was iffy, so we chose plan C. Tim Powers, another Jampot regular, has a buddy named JJ that lives not far from there. We took a short ride to JJ’s barn to see his collection of almost everything but mostly motorcycles. There has to be close to 200 bikes in this large building. Probably 50 Honda Trail 90s, and at least one of everything else. I’m not kidding, there are so many bikes there is a second story to house them.


    JJ himself is an interesting guy, friendly as all get out and a complete motor-head. He and his son run a transmission shop, but they can’t get any help. JJ said they are offering $25/hour just for someone to sweep the floor. No takers. If I lived close to there I’d work three days a week just to learn about transmissions and soak up the ambiance. I hope they find someone soon so JJ can retire and really enjoy all his toys.

    On the way back from JJ’s I decided to stop at the McDonalds in Cairo for the one Big Mac I eat each year. A Big Mac meal is supposed to cost around 7 bucks and take about 5 minutes. This one cost close to 15 bucks and took around 10 minutes. What the hell is going on with McDonalds? The inside counter is so small now, there is barely even room to wait for your order. At least they provide clean public bathrooms, but between the excessive cost, time, and unbelievably wasteful amount of single use plastic, I won’t be going back there any time soon.

    Saturday afternoon was a great Jampot hangout, as usual. I missed Murray from New Zealand showing a movie about a similar rally where they ride on the wrong side of the road. I’ll have to catch that at some point. But there were good vibes and a lot of laughs as always. Loved it.


    Saturday night dinner was at the Red Rooster in Cairo. They handled a large crowd admirably. Food was great as well. Next time I have to try the “Rooster Balls.” After that we tried to have the usual Saturday night camp fire and sing along, but the wind and rain picked up so it was lights out a little earlier than usual (but not before trying some heavenly Cooper’s Daughter bourbon).

    I made a big mistake this year by not bringing anything for the raffle, as a really beautiful leather riding jacket was a fantastic prize. Doug, another Jampot regular, won it and it fits him perfectly. I did score a bunch of Triumph Owners Club back issues to share with friends. Kevin Cameron writes for that mag. He’s always a great read.

    I had an interesting conversation with long time Jampotter Bill Cawley about why my BSA 441 Victor Special had no compression at the gas pump after one hour of spirited riding. Bill, a 441 rider himself, says it’s due to differential expansion of the engine and push-rods such that, after a long hot ride, the valves sometimes stay open. I don’t see how that’s possible – the bike was running fine before I stopped for gas – but Bill is retired now and offered to look at it for me. This happened about ten years ago, and the engines’ been sitting on my workbench since then. I’ll be taking Bill up on his generous offer for sure.

    I had some real excitement when I left on Sunday morning. I had my bike parked under the eaves right in front of room 27 at the Weldon House. That building, a large flat of rooms, sits on top of a vast, grassy, steep hill. The day before I had negotiated down it on the bike with no problem, but it had rained all Saturday night, and now I had to get a 900 pound motorcycle down that frigging wet hill. Yikes!

    In situations like this the key is to keep a loose grip on the bars and let the front wheel find it’s own way. So that’s what I did. Now I’m sliding/steering down this ridiculous wet hill, gently trying to feed it some gas, hoping that at some point I’ll get traction. I felt like a rodeo cowboy wrestling a great beast, haha. Finally, the rear tire dug in and I was able to power off that hill onto the asphalt. I hope to A, never get dry socket again and B, never to park at the Weldon House by those rooms atop that hill ever again.

    Big shout out to Tim Powers for all the help he did behind the scenes; to the Canadian guys who love to sing and just let their hair down and have a great time always to matter what the situation; and to John Les, who by sheer tenacity and stubbornness somehow keeps this thing going. Let’s all pray for Ben’s quick recovery and for the Jampot Rally tradition. May they both live long and prosper.

Update on Ben:   The ENT's reported serious bruising of the larynx which was treated with IV steroids to rescue swelling. Ben was kept in the ICU due to the highly remote potential of the swelling closing the airway. He was released Monday morning and is in fine fettle if very horse and with a rather sore throat, a condition which may last many months.


By Randal Montgomery


This year I had a great time at the Jampot Rally despite only an hour or so of riding in the mountains. 


THURSDAY June 19, 2024

When I checked the weather forecast for the Catskills Mts (S of Albany NY) a few days before I left last Thursday it looked good but it seems many other potential attendees checked more recent forecast and since it was predicting heavy rains many did not attend so the attendance was low, about the same as when I was there a few years ago with Dave Marr. Also so many older members are dying off or "again out". To their credit some attend despite being too old to ride their motorcycles. Its as much a social and tech info exchange event as it is mt. riding and a "show and shine" for all old British motorcycles. 

It takes five hours and 20 minutes to drive there from my US apartment, and this year it was made harder because Dave was unable to attend to share the driving with me, and because of the intense heat on the way there ,and my 24-year-old car has no air conditioning and is running on snow tires and has a bad shake in the steering wheel about 45 mph. So at first I restricted my speed on the way there to 59 mph but was constantly getting passed by tractor-trailers so I gradually increased it to 65 to 70. 

So I spent 3 3/4 hours on the New York Thruway I-90 heading East wilting from the heat but then when I began looking for my exit number 29 at Canajoharie the skies opened up and was intense rain and all the traffic had to slow down and I could barely see the signs I was afraid I would miss my exit. It seemed to take forever before that exit finally appeared, I felt like I was in a twilight zone or space-time warp and would spend the rest of my life on the I-90 searching for that exit. Check out original Twilight Zone episode "Death Ship".


When I finally entered Canajoharie I consulted my notes but with my bad eyesight I had written down Highway 55S but I was actually supposed to just simply make a sharp left on Highway 5S so I drove through the town trying to find Highway 55 and ended up on a side road paralleling the I-90 heading back West as if I was still caught in the space-time warp. So after all this time desperately trying to get off the I-90 here I was paralleling it heading back the same way I had been coming from.  Three were no intersections to turn around, the road ran straight as far as I could see, a sign said the next town was over 2miles distant. Argh! There were really no shoulders either but I finally saw a bit of a field where I was able to make a U-turn (my tow rig does not allow one to back up) but the field was much rougher than I had anticipated and the poor motorcycle was bouncing up and down and the tow rig was crashing against the ground. So I finally was heading in the correct direction and got on Highway five not 55. 

I had forgotten to keep paper maps in that car having transferred them to my newer car (which lacks the motorcycle tow rig) so I relied on Google and the voice advised me of some detours on Route 162 which was a nice twisty road if you're riding a motorcycle but when you're towing one it just means more turns and more time spent. 

I was in a rush to get there for the Thursday ride which was supposed to take place at 6 PM. 


When I went to pick up my key for the Weldon House cabin at the main Blackthorn Resort Park, it turned out they had closed the office at 5 PM and it was 5:15 and there was a note saying people could pick up the keys in the bar downstairs. So I rushed downstairs and there were at least 100 rough and tough-looking Harley bikers there all talking very loudly and quite drunk and no sign of any waitresses. I had to wait about 15 20 minutes before the waitresses appeared and then I had to wait another 15-20 minutes to get their attention because they were rushed off their feet by all the customers. Finally a waitress told me she would be back with my key right away but that was like another 20 minutes. So I finally got my key and drove back to the Weldon House area just before 6 only to discover that mine was the only motorcycle there so obviously I was not going to go for a group ride in the mountains. Also the key would not open the door to the cabin so I had to drive back to Blackthorn and it took another 15 minutes to get the waitresses attention and then she said she would contact the manager and eventually after I spent 45 min. in very interesting conversation with some of the Harley riders (one guy Bill Moore was a drywall installer who made $133k net, he looked 43 and was 69 years old! Full head of dark hair, no wrinkles. Even his 66 year old gal pal looked about 49, I even took some photos of them) the manager appeared and handed me two keys which the housekeeping staff used to access the cabins. So then I drove back to the Weldon House spot and was able to access the cabin but I could not figure out how to get the AC to work and he was still extremely hot, but luckily the bar manager arrived to kindly check on me and so he managed to get the AC working for me and I handed him back one of the two housekeeper keys. By then it was around 7 PM and I was pretty hungry and I had heard and seen that the dinners that were at the Blackthorn bar were excellent so I ordered a beef steak dinner with perogies, but the waitress was still overrun and it took about half an hour for the food to arrive even though the kitchen was only metres away. Anyway I had more conversations and some very tasty draft Smithwicks red ale pints and the dinner arrived, but before I could start to eat it she took it away from me and turns out she kept getting everyone's orders mixed up but I finally got my steak and it was the best steak I've ever had so was worth the wait. Around 8 pm the bouncer conducted a Trivia contest. The smart ass answers from one of the drunken bikers near me were pretty funny. The bouncer was 6'9" tall, stocky with a big beer belly and wore cowboy style holster with “six shooter” guns on either side. (real guns, legal in New York state).


So I went back to my cabin with working key and working air conditioner and a full belly and a couple of beers and unhooked the Matchless with the help of Brad, who to my disappointment had not brought his 1965 Royal Enfield Interceptor. I fired up my Matchless and rode around the grounds a few times as victory laps.



On Friday morning I started the Matchless and rode it around the grounds again. I tried to find the old Moto-Cross track and did but it was grown over and no longer used.  I decided to turn the idle adjuster out another one quarter turn as the starting was still intermittent, would either fire right up or I had to use my roller starter. After it was idling nicely I put it on the side stand while I went inside the motel room to brush my teeth or something, and I heard the bike idling nicely outside and then suddenly I heard a crash and then the engine stopped running . I ran out and somehow the bike had fallen over on the left side and was against the motel cabin wall and I was not able to pull it up because I was on the high side rather than low side of the bike; meanwhile gasoline was pissing out of the full fuel tank . I managed to squeeze my leg in between the cabin wall and the left side of the fuel tank and tried to pick the bike up but in my panic I failed to lock the front brake and the bike just arced in a circle causing the rear to jam against the cabin wall. Also I was burning my right calf on the exhaust pipe.  By then I tried holding the front brake on while I tried to lift the bike but I just could not pull it up as by now it was almost completely on its left side. Fortunately there was a guy renovating one of the cabins a few hundred feet away so I yelled at him to come and help me in and between the two of us we got the bike upright. 


The glass headlight lens unit was shattered and the rim that holds it on was bent  (replacement cost about $100 after tax and shipping) and then I dropped the bulb onto the sidewalk breaking the filaments and during the drive home lost the ignition key and the rear bulb was fried to a beautiful milky white and blue colors, so I bought a new one from Tim Powers so total about $120 damages, and there was a scratch on the left side panel that holds the battery, and there was paint on the seat that I managed to get off. What pissed me off the most is a scratch on the left side panel which normally would not be a big issue but I have repainted those side panels so many times I am sick of it. 

I used a face cloth soaked in cold water on my burn for half an hour and gradually it stopped hurting.


Then I started the bike using Carl Kotevich's technique and it ran OK. There was supposed to be a group mountain ride on Friday at 10 AM but at that mine was still the only motorcycle there , except Bill Reilly arrived on one of those flashy new BMW boxer twins with 1800 cc. He decided to go on a long ride by himself and I decided to go on a shorter ride by myself. I took a few photos (attached) 


We expected more rain and there would be no way my bike could keep up with his anyway, in fact I was only able to do about 55 or so mph up the mountains, anyway I had a lovely ride for over an hour mostly going up mountains on the way north west and descending on the way south east. Bike idled fine while I took the photos or stopped for views. However when I stopped for fuel about 7 miles from Blackthorn the bike would not start. I tried running and bumping side saddle in 2nd gear TT style start (can still do it at age 77). Engine turned over several times but would not fire. Then when I checked the battery by turning the lights on and there were none whereas there had been a nice bright headlight during my riding.  I could have also tried the horn and brake light but obviously the battery was dead, exactly the same situation as my last Jampot when the battery failed. Fortunately my cell phone worked so I called the Big Kahuna (John Les) who came and got me and the bike with the chase truck (trailer kindly supplied by Tim Powers.). 

On Friday afternoon the Ottawa contingent of father Stan and son Brian Johnson arrived and then from Rhode Island arrived John Vaughan aboard a perfectly restored 1953 G-80 factory competition model - the only bike there with actual Jampots. 


Around dinner time on Friday local guy Tim Powers brought his collection of about six vintage bikes, mostly British, and his son Mark also arrived. One of Tim's bikes was a pretty 1963 or '65 G-80 with a red fuel tank. There were torrential rain storms on and off during the day so I was glad I had gotten my mountain riding in before noon. Dinner BBQ of tasty burgers and hot dogs was courtesy of Tim Powers acting as chef, and he and his wife had prepared a half dozen tasty salads.  


Just as dinner was well under way, at 7:30 PM two Norton Commandos pulled in, one was ridden by Ben English which was the very 750 Combat that he had rescued me on a few years earlier when my battery failed, and the other was ridden by Murray McLean, who is head of the New Zealand AJS and Matchless club there and who runs their own Jampot Rally there. They had left the New Hampshire Norton Rally in Woodstock New Hampshire at 7:30 that morning, riding through torrential downpours most of the way, after a 45 minute late start due to one Norton not wanting to start and the other leaking oil badly (onto the brake disk, I have had that problem yeas ago on my 1980 Harley). Maybe they fixed those problems and then left at 7:30 but the main point is that they had been outside either riding or fixing or under overpasses ducking the rain for 12 hours. Under normal conditions it is a 5 hours trip but they had to ride slowly due to virtually zero visibility at times, especially after the accident. Ben could hardly speak or eat because on the way, in fact shortly after leaving New Hampshire, a large part of a tree blew down and across the road directly in front of the motorcycles and it had two thick branches in a Y and the upper one caught Ben in the throat and knocked him right off his motorcycle like a Medieval jouster and his Norton slid under the lower branch. The visibility was so bad that Murray who was riding behind Ben could see nothing except Ben's red tail light and for a second a dark object in front of them (the tree branch). Some car drivers stopped and finally some young guys braved the rain to get out and it took Murray and seven car drivers to drag this huge branch off the road. Then all the cars took off leaving Ben and Murray there with Ben's lightly damaged Norton. They managed to rebend his bent shift lever and then rode all the way to the Jampot. However Ben was still in such pain that the Big Kahuna persuaded him to ride to a hospital near where Ben lives and he checked into Emergency around 8:30 PM but was still waiting to be seen at 8:30 on Saturday morning, just like a Canadian ER!  We hope he is okay, maybe a smashed Adam's apple. What are the odds that a falling tree would take out a 1970 era Norton and rider?  Update: His larynx was damaged (severely bruised) but he will gradually recover but with a sore throat for perhaps months . 

During Friday afternoon I felt tired even though I had gotten eight hours sleep Thursday night and I had to have a nap for a couple of hours.


We spent the rest of the Friday evening drinking the free beer (whisky, and some weed and hash were also available) and listening to Murray's stories. He has ridden in South America, Vietnam, much of Europe, the USA, Britain, Australia and Siberia. In Siberia he was riding a 250 cc Russian two stroke in mud so bad that the front wheel would not turn and was just filling up with mud, being pushed along by the rear wheel at a walking pace. At one point he encountered a hitchhiker but the extra weight on that puny machine broke the rear spokes after a short time and the hitchhiker disappeared, so there he was in the middle of nowhere on a broken motorcycle. Some peasants (husband and wife) came down the hill and invited him to spend the night in their hut and gave him dinner. Another example of nice folks helping a stranded biker. They had no electricity or running water /indoor toilet and heat was from burning wood. Due to cell phone reception problems he had lost contact with the other two riders and the three-man Mafia chase crew who were driving a small truck, but he managed to hail a local van which operated as a taxi and eventually get back in touch with everyone. He did not speak a word of brush and any peasants did not speak a word of English and the only way he got out was by waving and yelling the word "taxi". (photos of Murray attached)


I drove Murray in my car to Angela's restaurant for a nice breakfast and treated him. Then John Vaughan rode in on the 1953 Compie model which Murray verified had the correct Compie frame. A bit later back at the Weldon House "campus" Cranky Franky Palmeri roared in on his huge 2013 Harley touring bike.  He does own a Norton and a BSA 441, but had to listen to the Kahuna's many Harley jokes.  Like Ben and Murray he had left the Norton rally but wisely turned back home for Friday day and overnight due to the deluge.


Later on Sat. there were intermittent showers but we were all clustered together drinking the free beer under a tarp. In mid afternoon we went inside the air conditioned community room and fortunately the Kahuna had brought a laptop (he did not bring any motorcycles due to the weather forecast so had rented a pickup truck so was able to carry stuff like that) and we watched an hour or so long video that Murray had on a memory stick about the big Matchless and AJS week long riding rally up and down the South Island of New Zealand which also had attendees from Oz and Britain. We North Americans have been invited but none of us made the trek there. It is arranged so that the Norton rally starts immediately after the Matchless one ends.  I later found out that Murray runs a Matchless (and other English brands) repair shop in New Zealand and is an expert motorcycle mechanic and had spent years studying at the MMI Institute in Florida and was one of the top five students in the class and you needed 86% to graduate and the vast majority of the students did not pass. Photos of Murray attached.


Also instead of the group mountain ride we went to visit a guy named J.R. who apparently had done well financially repairing automobile transmissions and spent it on a huge collection of motorcycles and guns and snowmobiles and a few cars, so we spent about two hours at his place looking at his collection and talking to him, and Murray was posing with the Civil War rifles (I held one, sooo long and heavy) and the German lugers. I have some photos of that if anyone is interested. The collection also included two small actual photographs, not reproductions, of Hitler and a couple of his henchmen, and other Nazi and Japanese war regalia. 


On the way back from JR's Mark Powers in his orange 8 speed Dodge Magnum escorted me and Murray to a classic car show in a park (photo of old Plymouth mounted on a dump truck chassis and a cute Morris Woody attached) where we first baked in the hot sun and then ran from torrential rain.


Then we visited Tim's garage to look at a BSA 650 and a Norton 750 that Tim had restored. During this visit Murray diagnosed and Mark confirmed the cause of the shake, shimmy and shudder problem on my 24 year old car. Two previous car mechanics I had taken it to said it was due to the left front spring not being hundred percent seated on its base (probably from me putting it into a ditch twice last winter) but at this point it looks like the spring had repositioned itself and Murray diagnosed that the problem was a worn control arm bushing, so that really relieved me and I knew that the vehicle was still safe to drive for several hundred miles and would not suddenly fail and cause a crash. The car is only worth $175 (best offer from wreckers)  but the Matchless being towed is worth over $6,000. I guess my neck is worth some nominal amount too.  

Back at the Rally I took the side panel off my Matchless and saw that the battery was leaning way over (almost fell out) and the ground wire was disconnected. So now I know why it would not start after fueling on Friday. When I tried to charge the battery the charger emitted a warning sound and later Tim's voltmeter revealed only 2 volts. I think the reason the battery became dislodged was when I made that U-turn in the field in Canajoharie and/or when the bike fell over outside my cabin. In fact it was a miracle that the bike had started for my mountain right. Tim figures that the battery had somehow shorted itself out and was now defective and would not take a charge. He very kindly sold me a nearly new Moto-Batt brand six volt battery that fit perfectly for only $40 and we also found out that the taillight had failed and he had some 6 v. tail light bulbs. He tried to find me a new lens and rim for the headlight but he was out of stock on those. With the new battery the bike starts on first or 2nd kick. I have lost confidence in the tri-cell condenser style 6 v Sundance batteries that I was using. Did not know that Moto-Batt sold 6 v AGM batteries.  


Met Bill Cawley again (remembered him from a few years ago) who is a machinist from Wash. Mass. who has 100 classic bikes in his collection, mostly BSA 441 Victors. He was riding around the grounds on a mini bike with a centrifugal clutch and he let me and Murray try it and it was a blast.   


At six pm the annual Jampot ritual of exchanging secret gifts (a free raffle, every participant donates something related to English motorcycles, although the big prize this year was a leather jacket with “provenance”, won by Doug Cropper who was there with his pal Julie V.) took place in the community room, Murray ended up with some Amal parts I had donated and said they were just what he might need for his continued riding on the Norton. 


For dinner at 7 pm some of us rode (Mark Powers rode a 1960's BSA Royal Star) and some of us drove about 6 miles to a highly rated restaurant but Murray and I ordered the steak but it was all gristle and you couldn't eat it. We did try and like the "Rooster balls" the place is famous for. Brian with his opera quality voice and volume sang a song called “Chimney Sweep”.  I sat beside Pete Polisciano and heard several interesting stories about electrical problems with his new bike (700 cc CF Moto - an amalgam of Chinese, Japanese, Italian and Spanish parts- he rides it regularly during the winter after the snow is cleared- racked up 17,000 miles in six months) and his 1975 Harley decker and 1978 Sportster.

After dinner Tim and Mark set up a DJ booth complete with a control board and colored lights and played "1952 Vincent" by Richard Thompson (1991) and many 1970's top hits until 11 pm at quite a volume. Those two are so talented. 

So we spent Sat. evening like Friday, drinking the free beer and whisky, vodka and Murray's rum were also available and listening to Murray's and Cranky Franky and my and other attendees' stories, but with musical background. Kahuna John had a scary story about riding a Triumph leaned over 15 degrees to compensate for a strong side wind when a big tractor trailer was coming toward him on a narrow bridge and he was able to right the bike at just the correct instants in time to avoid being thrown into or under the trailer or being blown over the rail and off the bridge. Kahuna John also entertained us with his many jokes, most of which cannot be reproduced here, but I do recall the Harley jokes.  

So despite the rain and not much mt. riding we all had a great time and Murray and J.R. and Tim and Mark were major reasons.  

Much thanks to Kahuna John and Claudia for all the organizing and preparing.



After free coffee and donuts at the community room, Murray packed his saddlebags and rode off on his Mk III Commando to Cuba, NY, (heavy rains forecast for his hours long route) from where he would ride to Chicago where he had a $1000 pickup truck and another Norton waiting, with which he planned to drive to Los Angeles for the flight home. Next year he plans to return again to the US for the big Norton rally in Quincy California. 


As I was no longer worried about the front wheel of my car suddenly snapping off I drove back at around 73 mph but it still took 5 hrs and 20 min. Including the dreaded 3 3/4 hours on the ultra boring NY Thruway I-90. Reason it was not faster returning home at higher speeds was more fuel stops, partly to refresh my brain, and me stopping to figure directions. The cell phone reception at the rally site was very bad and most of us could not get full reception most of the time and I could not get Google Maps to work for me for the first few hours coming home and I was cursing myself for not bringing my paper maps as backups but fortunately I made the right decisions and ended up back on the correct roads and then finally back on Canajoharie. Part of the reason was that on the way down I drove thru Sloansville NYwhich was memorable for because in 1968 -70 I used to buy Indian Chief motorcycle parts by mail from Chuck Myles who lived there, (sadly he has since deceased) so I always remembered his address, so when in doubt I followed the signs for Sloansville. Thanks Chuck. 


Although I had had seven hours of sleep Saturday night by the time I got home to my Western NY apt. on Sunday I was so tired I took a nap at 4 PM and woke up 4 1/2 hours later. Still hadn’t fully recovered on Monday so postponed my drive into Toronto to Tues (took 4 hours due to traffic)


The event focuses on pre 1985 English machines but all makes and yearss are welcome so hope to see you there in 2025, first weekend in June. Make sure to be at the Blackthorn office before 5PM to collect your key unless you want to have the biker bar experience. The beer and dinners are good there and the patrons friendly despite their tough appearance and boisterous behavior. It is worth it just to see the bouncer in his cowboy hat and six guns.   

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