Death Valley was our riding destination. But a sun-baked desert overrun with scorpions, rattlesnakes and European tourists didn’t automatically rise to the top of our list; we had to convince ourselves that the Valley’s stark bounty of towering mountains, colored vistas and barren salt flats, along with the promise of warm weather once we got there, would be worth it. And since we were heading out in mid-autumn, we didn’t relish the idea of riding through nasty weather the entire way without some offsetting climate reward at the other end. And so, Death Valley (or DV) it was.

From outer space, the mountains of Western Virginia resemble petrified waves crashing onto an unsuspecting shore. In the west is a roiling sea, giving way to organized ridges in the east and finally to the breaker that is the Blue Ridge. In between are troughs - a series of valleys - the easternmost hosting Interstate 81 and its string of small cities. In the next valley to the west, on a broken, irregular, and secluded path, is Virginia State Route 42.

Riding in Los Angeles can range from frustrating to infuriating. It’s an ever-changing dynamic of drifting big rigs and various other speeding vehicles intent on constricting your path. But honestly, we do have a relatively civilized driving etiquette. We are taught to respect the “Right of Way,” and this driving rule sets in motion an entire series of social behaviors that translate subconsciously to common daily activities.

We don't care WHAT you ride, Just Do It!
I am a "Hack" rider. I have a 2009 HD FHLR with a 2011 Liberty Sidecar. It's kind of trick, it is designed to look like a 1937 sidecar. I am 78 years young and I will be bringing my wife, married 54 years. Hope you have a successful turnout. Rush C.

Deer carcass? Check. Dead skunks? Double check. No Monument signs? A million of ‘em. If your trip chart contains three or more of these items, chances are you’ve blundered into the State of Jefferson. I say blunder, because well, it’s not easily found—and you aren’t necessarily welcome. Sounds like a perfect destination.

A massive river, a winding road and an oversized blue ox. If those three elements meet your criteria for a weekend wander, then you owe it to yourself to check out a chunk of the Great River Road—a historic, interconnected route that shadows the legendary Mississippi River, from the Canadian border to the Gulf Coast. The GRR isn’t a single road as its name might suggest, but rather a squiggly collection of byways and roads patched together. The GRR spares you the packs of semis hurtling along the superslab and that soulless collection of big box retail stores, and rewards you with heaps of local color, flavor, and wildlife. Created in 1938 from a network of federal, state, and local roads, the River Road, or the “GRR”, is a ragtag collection of mostly sleepy two-laners that runs 2340 miles, most of them bearing a green-and-white sign showing a river steamboat inside a pilotwheel with the name of the state.

The Snake Ride. Howling Wolves, Stars & History. Vinegar Pie. Two Rivers, One Mountain, and 10 Million Trout Eggs. These are the enticing names of four of the Southern Dozen.

From the Crescent Hotel to the bottom of the "Pig Trail" on Arkansas Highway 23, the Eureka Springs Backroads Route is a memorable route in this part of the country. The 132 mile (roundtrip) ride has 571 curves to keep you occupied, with the estimated time from start to finish clocking in at just under five hours.

::Destinations::

Maybe I agreed to do the ride to prove I’m not a wimp. It would take a tough guy to ride all day in the desert. Hot. Dusty. Gritty. Sounds pretty rugged to me. I didn’t want to ride in the New Mexican heat, but it might boost my cred as a biker to say I spent a week out there.

It’s not easy to get to, it’s not always open, and frankly, it’s not very long. So what makes Going-to-the-Sun-Road such an essential entry on every rider’s bucket list?

All I had to do was read the Wikipedia entry for Colorado State Highway 141: “...winds around a considerable amount due to the rugged terrain, and ultimately forms a giant S.” Words like ‘winds’ and ‘Giant S,’ when describing a road, usually get my synapses firing like an AK-47. I needed to ride this thing.

You might say that touring the Great Lakes during the windiest storm event in seven centuries would be like throwing caution to the wind (Ba-DUM). When you hear that I had originally intended to ride to Alaska though, you might reconsider that judgment. Instead, I decided the Lake Michigan Circle Tour (LMCT) would be a sufficient cure for my mid-autumn wanderlust, despite wind gusts reported at 70 mph.

Places like Graham County, North Carolina, don’t always make it onto our editorial radar, but they should. Nestled in the Great Smoky Mountains lies an old favorite of ours: The Deal’s Gap Motorcycle Resort.

Think of it as a MotoGP at 500 feet—and three times the speed. At least that’s how I was selling the Reno National Championship Air Races to my riding buddies. We’d been looking for an interesting destination to implant in the middle of a long road trip, and the Reno Air Race seemed to fit the bill. It offered a collection of fabulous machines that traveled fast, all with the body-pounding sound only huge-piston engines can deliver. With everyone onboard to give it a try, we packed our gear and headed to Nevada.

By now, most riders are well-versed in the touring riches of the Beehive State. Between Zion Canyon in the south and the Flaming Gorge up north, there’s no shortage of world-class riding in Utah. But the one road I keep coming back to is Utah’s State Route 12, in the south central part of the state. The well-kept chunk of asphalt stretches only 125 miles in length, but it’s bookended on each side by a national park, and along the way, scenery you’ll find nowhere else. You could probably charge through it in a couple of hours, but trust me, you wouldn’t want to.

Brazil has the caipirinha-a generous pour of its harsh version of rum, cachaca, softened with lime, sugar and ice. Japan has sake, Bourdeaux has its wine, Polynesia has kava, and New Orleans claims the Sazerac.

If there’s two things that’ll get my attention, it’s a good dirt track race and a chance to take a ride through a part of the country I’ve never seen. Toss in a comfortable cruiser with a big motor, some good company and a corporate credit card, and I’m all yours. Ah, Kawasaki, you know my weaknesses all too well. Ostensibly, Team Green brought me to Calistoga CA, so I could experience the 2010 Vulcan Nomad’s prowess over a variety of terrain, but the aptly-named Good Times people also saw to it that I (along with a few fellow journos) were amply rested and well-entertained by scoring us tickets for the Calistoga Dirt Track National.

The Cory Ness Cross Country sports a Sunset Red paint job and a heavy dose of shiny stuff: chrome Ness grips, billet pegs, engine covers - even the radio display!

Summer may be officially over, but in many parts of the U.S., that just means it's the beginning of prime riding season. Take the southeastern part of the country, for instance: the area's normally, unbearably hot temps are now fading into a more tolerable warmth index, and even stamina-sapping humidity is diminishing. The days are still reasonably long and usually sunny, and the RV-and-camper set have, for the most part, turned their land yachts elsewhere.

Founded in '57 as an elitist supper club, the Continental Club's velvet curtains and painted tin ceiling have morphed from 1950s swank to rockabilly dank. Fellow moto-journalist Billy Bartels and I were pulling back Shiner Bocks at this gritty Austin music club, eyeballing the crowd of trucker-capped blue collars, polyester blue hairs, and hipster hillbillies in ragged-brimmed straw cowboy hats and aviator sunglasses. I spotted a hand-scrawled cardboard sign in the back of the club that read, "BBQ Sandwiches."

It may already be August, but there's still plenty of time left to salvage the summer for some memorable road trips. At this point in the riding season, you probably don't want to point your wheel at the usual hot spots-they're likely to be packed with tour buses and sightseers. Not to worry-you can still bag some good scenery without having to stomach the crowds if you aim your sights just a little further off the main track. These less-trafficked alternatives will give you just as much riding pleasure as the main show.

The Pismo Beach Motorcycle Classic (PBMC) on September 18 & 19, 2010 will recreate an iconic 1929 photo taken on Pismo Beach. The PBMC will start with scenic motorcycle rides from Northern and Southern California. The rides will conclude in Oceano, CA, for a rally to kick off the festivities from 1p.m to 8 p.m. The PBMC will wrap up on Sunday, where the panoramic photo will capture motorcycle enthusiasts on beautiful Pismo Beach at 8:30 a.m.