We got thinking about the motorcycle movies several of the Road Dirt guys have mentioned before as film favorites, and thought we’d share them here. They’re not the usual “bad boy” or “biker gang” movies that have been a dime a dozen over the years. These are movies that we feel really capture in some way our collective moto culture. And we love them.
Read More
I grew up in a different world, at a different time. A period in history that will never repeat itself, never return again.
I grew up in an analog world.
very January, motorcycle brands pull the wraps off of new, updated, or revised motorcycles for the new year. We’ve seen several unique offerings already by different companies, and two in a recent press release from Harley-Davidson caught our attention. Harley is offering a Street Glide Ultra this year, and they are debuting what some say might be the closest we’ll see to that Bronx prototype from several years ago, in a stripped-down and hopped up Pan America 1250 ST.
Read More
Now in its 15th year, most of the great and more well-known BDR routes are out west, from Texas and South Dakota westward, with the exception of Montana. But here in the Southeast, the home of Road Dirt, we’ve not had the opportunity to experience the BDR rides like our western brothers and sisters. That is about to change, with the development of the soon-to-be publicly announced South East Backcountry Discovery Route (SEBDR). Finally, some BDR close to home.
Read More
Every new year, we look forward to the press releases of new and/or upgraded motorcycles soon to debut. It’s an annual ritual in our world, and 2025 is no different. We peruse the press docs, dream and scheme about how we might get a ride on the ones we really like, and start making plans. Most of the bikes we dream about we eventually get a chance to sample; others, not so much. But it’s fun to dream, right?
Read More
In early 1981 I rolled into the town of Colchester on a well-worn Yamaha XT 500, flat broke wearing a leather jacket, a pair of thread bare jeans, and just a bag of clothes on my back. As I pulled over in the high street to get my bearings, it happened. A bright orange Laverda Jota fired up a few hundred yards away, filling the high street with the most blood-curdling roar as the owner blipped the throttle to warm the engine. Watching transfixed as he then climbed on, clicked the snarling beast into gear, before dropping the clutch, and taking off with the most intoxicating cacophony of sound I had ever heard. Winding the big triple up close to red line in first gear before letting off to slow for the traffic light, the noise the big Laverda made on the overrun was as equally stunning as it snorted and backfired in the quiet English afternoon.
Read More
I was taught by my father at a young age not to go walking through other people’s yards but eventually, my curiosity got the best of me and I rode my bicycle down that driveway to see what was in that garage. There leaning against the wall was a super crusty/rusty little silver single cylinder machine with just the metal framework of a seat left on it. I had no idea of what it was. It didn’t have any badges or emblems on it that I could see. I just knew it was old and it was a motorcycle.
Read More
As the minor character in this horrendous drama, the fact that my bones were mending and my dependence on narcotics was waning, apart from when Wibbly came to visit, and I was beginning to get my strength back was all positive. Walks around the garden were extending to the end of the drive, the end of the road and even down to the local chippie (fish and chip shop in English). My thoughts began now to focus on Florida, specifically the sun, beaches and girls in bikinis. Not that there’s anything wrong with living with your mother in freezing, cold, damp weather with seven hours of murky daylight.
Read More
Recent Comments