2019 Triumph Scrambler 1200 XC & XE Review

"I can't get it out of my head - the way it looks, the way it feels tearing down a dirt road, and how easily it handles the twisties on our way back to town. To be honest, I was apprehensive at first. Another 'scrambler,' another retro styled motorcycle taking aim at the hipster millennial? But Triumph’s new Scrambler 1200 seemed different. It slots itself into a spot no one knew existed: The Naked Adventure Bike. But does anyone want that? Do we need a bike that can ADV and be "cool" at the same time?"

Read my full review of the 2019 Triumph Scrambler 1200 on ADV Moto.

Einer Bankz

For those unfamiliar...

Some Secrets are Worth Keeping

"Buried in the backwoods of the Pacific Northwest is an assortment of shelters which have laid dormant for decades. For those willing to explore a bit beyond their comfort zone—down dusty dirt roads, through dense forests and around metal gates with ominous sayings like ‘STOP’ stretched across them—these cement structures are reminders of a world once filled with fear. Looming over inlets and waterways throughout the region, the fortifications and armaments of the inter-war period are now time capsules for the curious, assuming you know where to look."

Read about our latest 'bunker hunting' adventure on RideApart.

Western Aloha

My family hails from the Island of Hawaii, near Honoka'a, on the Hilo side. They're some hard working, family-comes-first, no bullshit kind of people. They're also Portuguese, and arrived on the Big Island in the 1800's to work the cane fields. My grandmother and her siblings were born in a plantation home on the Kuka'iau Ranch during the Roaring Twenties. She was one of ten - nine girls and a boy.

All but her brother, Antone, the first born and only male of the bunch, would leave the islands following WWII. My grandmother, for example, traveled to Honolulu when she was 26, met a tall fella from Eastern Washington after the War, and then moved to the mainland in 1951. But Antone stayed, and his son, Anthony, carries on a tradition that's little known outside of the Hawaiian Islands. The Paniolo are the original American cowboys. Born from necessity, they were trained by the vaqueros of Mexico and have maintained the livestock of HI since 1832.

Photographed for Western Aloha

Hustlers

My ex-wife once once told me, in the midst of her post-departure-angst, that I was "nothing but a goddamn hustler!" At the time I wasn't sure what to make of that. How to take it... Was that a bad thing? Shit to be ashamed of? I've spent the better part of my adult life working for myself. For better or for worse. Cleaning cars, writing about racing stuff, and most recently marketing for the motorcycle. It's all uphill. Treading water with weights around your ankles. But those big, deep breaths you get to take, when the air is ripe with opportunity and you can see everyone along the shoreline crossing tasks off their lists and tackling to-dos, for someone else? That's when you know this hustle shit is worth it. When I replay that comment she made, reflect for a second, and then, yep... I'm out here hustling like a motherfucker. For me. Because I'd rather die drowning than be sunburned on the shore.

MSR Hubba Tour 2 Review: The Definitive Adventure Motorcycle Tent

"Camping and motorcycling go together like bread and butter: a great combo, but too much of one and not the other can lead to a lousy breakfast, or in this case, a lost weekend. You don’t want your kit to become a burden or be too cumbersome. Setting it up and breaking it down should be a no-brainer, and more often than not, less is more when it comes to camp gear. So, choosing the right equipment for your motorcycle adventures is vital. Items need to be light, pack easily, accommodate you, and often the person you’re riding with as well. Designed to house two motorcyclists (or cyclists) and all their gear, the new MSR Hubba Tour 2 is the ultimate two-person tent for two-wheeled travelers. According to MSR, it was the motorcyclists in the office that designed the tent."

My review of MSR's new Hubba Tour 2 tent just went live on Gear Patrol.

OTW

What I've been listening to lately... Like, a lot.

Perpetual Motion Postcards | Tejas

The second episode of Perpetual Motion will be going live real soon. Here's a little teaser from Tejas!

Surf Mat Shenanigans

"Some of the best ideas are born after many beers. Like when your father spots an inflatable surf mat at a shop on Sunset Boulevard – shortly after pouring back a few pints at Mohawk Bend, I might add – and then pulls the trigger, suggesting you pack it onto your motorcycle and ride up the coast looking for waves to surf along the way. Great idea, dad! And so just like that a trip was born, two actually. The first was as mentioned, from San Diego to Seattle on big American cruiser machines. Kyra and I stopped to surf in San Clemente, again in Santa Cruz and then a third and final time on the coast of Oregon. The second trip, though, was into Baja on our Indian Scouts. And unlike our first little adventure, which had us riding well-known roads and surfing even better-known spots, our surf mat shenanigans south of the border were a bit more off the beaten path. That trip was the focal point of ‘Baja Norte,’ the first episode of our new moto-travel show, Perpetual Motion. So, I’ll let you watch that, and save the story. And instead of waxing on about what we did, I’d like to explain a bit more about the mat itself, how to surf one and why they’re so awesome."

I wrote about the awesomeness of inflatable surf apparatuses for Wayward. Click this to read the story.

Hoh. No. Kah. Ah.

My grandmother, Mary Jane Texeira, was born in a plantation home on the Kukaiau Ranch outside of Pa'auilo, HI in August of 1920. Her father, Antone, worked the cane fields of the Honokaa Sugar Co. and lived in a small house near the mill with his wife, Cozy, and their ten children. When she was 26, my grandmother moved to Honolulu and opened a little laundry service. A few years later, she met a tall fella from Eastern Washington by the name of Merlin 'Doc' Coffey, my grandfather. They moved to the mainland in 1951 with two children from her previous marriage, as well as one on the way - my father, David. Much of my family is still on the Big Island of Hawaii, living in the small town of Honokaʻa, working as paniolo. That little guy hiding behind his mother's leg is my grandmother's great-great nephew, the next generation of Hawaiian cowboy. And that old guy with the devious look in his eye? That's my grandfather, Doc, at 97.

Ara Macao

What I've been listening to lately...

The Shape of Speed

I've got a thing for Art Deco - or anything made between the wars. A style that felt forward thinking, futuristic, and yet tied to the time and space in which it existed. My interest in this era, this style, is so great that I stopped in Tulsa, OK just to eyeball the architecture for a few days. And so, when the Portland Art Museum proclaimed the introduction of their latest exhibit, 'The Shape of Speed,' which showcases streamlimed automobiles and motorcycles built between 1930 and 1942, I purchased tickets and packed a camera, no questions asked.

The exhibit will be on display from whenever you're reading this, until September 16th of 2018.

You should go.

Asher Emerson

"In a dimly lit corner of an automotive restoration shop in Tempe, Arizona, there’s a giant dragon. It looms overhead, long and twisting and yellow, with flames thrown from a mouth adorned by a mustache. I look up from below, admiring its form, its size, then pull a few paper towels from the roll, dry my hands and exit the little bathroom in the back of Asher’s studio. On the walls there are tracing paper sketches of the human form with could-be tattoo designs covering their butt and backs. Traditional Irezumi art is everywhere. There’s a small drafting desk, a padded massage table and a big bendy light, which looks a little bit like that character from The Brave Little Toaster. Asher is standing in front of his computer, which casts a blueish glow over his upper half. He’s looking at something that he’s scanned, the outline of a design which he’ll soon paint onto the back of my leather motorcycle jacket."

I wrote about my friend Asher for Wayward. Hit this link and check out the piece I put together.

From the Phone - Vol.8

Most of this won't make much sense to anyone. It's just a bunch of photos pulled from my phone. Many of which are old, like maybe a year or more. Anyhow. At least I know what it all means, for now, while I'm still cognizant and not suffering from some kind of memory losing old-age disease. That said, the first five or six photos are contemporaneous - a lake in Arizona, an International Scout like the one I had, and a photo of my grandfather and his second wife. Those are followed by a random assortment of images that include a month long motorcycle trip around Italy (and France), drag racing on the East Coast, the stump of my grandmother's redwood tree, my father, my wiener, and a few negronis. It's a mish-mash. And something I haven't done in quite some time. So here goes. A pull from the ol' telephone memory book. If you want to see more, you can hit the FTP tag at the bottom of the post.

BTS | The South

We traveled throughout the South in April, filming the third episode of our show, Perpetual Motion, spending something like three weeks on the road. We'd been across the Bible Belt before. A few years back, on the same sort of bikes (see: Scouts Honor). From New Orleans to Key West, riding along the southern edge of America. We didn't take our time, however. We had a deadline in Daytona Beach, and were running out of money. This go around, though, we had a bit more of both - time and money. So we spent some time in New Orleans, where we drank ourselves silly and ate wonderful things. We then wandered into the bayou where we met some friendly fishermen who took us to a Civil War fort now surrounded by the sea. Afterwards, we headed to Birmingham, Alabama to see the greatest motorcycle museum on earth and kick back a few beers with an old friend and photographer, Raymond. Our next stop was Atlanta, Georgia to see Steve West, eat our annual donut, and do some drag racing with our friend and 11-time national champion, Rickey Gadson. From there we traveled to Charleston, South Carolina where we swapped motorcycles for sailing boats. Long story short, we'd met this dude, Chad, by chance a few months back in Baja. And he made the mistake of suggesting we come sailing on his boat some time. Dummy. After that? South to Jacksonville, Florida for the circus, then Daytona Beach to ride our bikes along the Atlantic Ocean. There's more, though... Drinking mezcal with a members of law enforcement, kickin' it with a couple of Eastern European contortionists, sitting on the disassembled Globe of Death, etc.

All of this and more will be featured in the forthcoming episode of our show. So, stay tuned for that.

In the interim, though, check out some of the behind-the-scenes photos I shot throughout the South...

Jacob Bromwell Vermonter Flask - Part Deux

28 months ago, Kyra gave me a gift. She had our friend Hobo Shane in Ohio carve a likeness of my little dual-sport - taken from a drawing our friend Doug in Denver had done about a year prior - onto a hand forged Jacob Bromwell flask. It was a gift unlike any other I'd received. I filled it with my favorite whiskey and took it with me everywhere. Across the country on motorcycles, twice. Off the coast of Africa. Into the Sierra Mountains where a friend poured hot sauce inside it as a prank. To the Bonneville Salt Flats and Baja, around England and just about everywhere else.

Then one night not too many months ago, someone broke into a friend's car and stole my stuff - camera equipment, clothing, riding gear and, perhaps most unfortunately, my beloved flask. Fuckers. If you're reading this, which I doubt, just know that if I see you sipping from that thing, you'll be removing it from your ass shortly thereafter. Anyhow... Fast forward to my birthday this year and guess what that goddamn woman got me, again? Yea, another flask to replace the one that had been nicked. This time, though, she had Shane carve a likeness of my Indian Scout sitting on the beach in Baja, from a photo I'd taken a few months earlier. Same Lana Turner quote, and same incredible craftsmanship, both from Hobo Shane and the boys and girls at Jacob Bromwell. So if you're in the market for an American made alcohol drinking apparatus, one that'll only get better with age, check out the Vermonter Flask.

Perpetual Motion | Baja Norte

In the last four years, Kyra and I have ridden more than 60k miles, explored 15 countries and been lucky enough to see the world from the seat of a motorcycle. Now with the help of our friend and filmmaker, Nathan, we've decided to create a new moto-travel series called Perpetual Motion.

In this episode, we go back to Baja on our Indian Scouts and spend three weeks exploring the northern half of the peninsula looking for waves to surf, tacos to eat and good times in a place we just can’t get enough of.

Brought to you by: WESTx1000, Indian Motorcycle, and Slabaugh Media.

With support from: SENA Bluetooth, Wolfman Luggage and Lost In Baja.

SUBSCRIBE and stay tuned for Tejas!

Cigar City Brewing's Jai Alai India Pale Ale

First time I had a pint of Jai Alai (pronounced hi-uh-lie) was in Key West, at the end of a rather long motorcycle trip (see: this). The second pint was at the Ritz-Carlton in Orlando, Florida where I was accused of being a pimp by a gang of Gatorade employees (true story). The third time was in Paris (yea, that Paris), where a can sat serendipitously on the shelf of a small, but well stocked, beer store a few blocks from the flat we had rented. So to say my experiences with this illustrious IPA are extraordinary is an understatement. I could tell you that the fourth and fifth pints were also rather weird, but that's to be expected, no? Instead, what I should tell you is that this Tampa Bay creation is my absolute favorite at the moment, and offers the magic IPA equation I've come to discover: 70 IBU's and roughly 7(.5)% ABV. It's carried by citrus and fruit notes akin to my beloved West Coast IPAs, but is not a light golden color like its kinfolk. Instead, it's a more malty copper, perhaps thanks in part to the "bouquet of tangerine and candied orange peel." It is hop forward, though, proof of which came courtesy of my step-father Bruce's approval - a proper bitter beer fanatic. But it's also easy going for something that runs a cool 7.5% and has more hops than most. What was once hard to find, or at least offered an odd experience in the process, is now stocked at your local beer store (at least in Arizona and Texas). So if you see a can or tap of this tasty Tampa IPA, get after it. Assuming you like the same thing I like.

For those that give a fuck...

BeerAdvocate: 4.28/5

RateBeer: 99 Overall

Read more 'Brew Reviews' here.

BTS | Tejas

A behind-the-scenes look at the second episode of our forthcoming moto-travel show, Perpetual Motion. This time in Tejas, where we were lucky enough to tour the Stetson hat factory, visit a friend in Dallas who has the ultimate "office," ramble our way through the Hill Country, and then find our way onto a working ranch in West Texas. We ran into our friend, Alicia, ate soft-serve at Health Camp, and Kyra learned how to throw a rope from some guy named Stran. All of that and more!

Perpetual Motion Postcards | Baja Norte | Part One

An inflatable surf mat, swim fins and... a pair of Indian Motorcycles?

Subscribe to our YouTube channel and stay tuned for the first episode of Perpetual Motion!

Thirty Five Millimeter | Around Arizona

Sent three rolls up to Seattle to be processed and scanned at Panda Labs. The first roll was the last I shot with my long-loved Yashica T4, which was stolen, along with all of my other camera equipment, a few months back. Long, shitty story. The other two rolls were shot with an old Olympus Stylus point-and-shoot that I picked up on eBay; the same camera my father gave me for Christmas in 1998 (?). The collection of images is sort of an amalgamation of events and people and other strange shit that happened in Arizona this winter. Suppose I should let the photos speak for themselves.

Check out more of my 35mm musings here.

Faheem Rashad Najm

This guy. 12 million views, huh? So dank. So... Gospel?

Thirty Five Millimeter | Washington, D.C.

In the winter of '87, I traveled to our country's capital, Washington, D.C. I took photographs using one of those fancy new Yashica T4 cameras with the Carl Zeiss glass, and some of that Ilford HP5 (?) film. My father was with me. We saw where The Trump resides, drank rye whiskey and long neck Budweiser at the Round Robin, visited the theater where Lincoln lost his lid (too soon?), and saw kids do tricks on skateboards. It was eye opening. Our nation's capitol, amidst great change, with people of all the creeds and colors converging. And so I left wanting more. Good thing I've got thirty years.

Check out more of my 35mm musings here.

Mainly We Work, David...

"No, I don't do that... I'm a binge writer."

But this one is better, because, Conan.

Fujifilm XE-3 Mirrorless Camera

It's been a bit since I reviewed anything on here. But considering the circumstances, I thought it might be worth my while. You see, nearly all of my camera equipment was stolen out of a friend's car in Seattle a few months ago. Canon kit - a body and two lenses - as well as my beloved Yashica T4, my laptop, flask, some motorcycle gear, and about half of all the clothing I own. It sucked, most certainly. The kind of sting that comes only from knowing someone is out there drinking from your flask, shooting photos with your gear, and tippy typing on our computer. But that's not what this is about. This, my fearless readers, is about the little mirrorless camera I acquired as a stop-gap. Something to hold me over while Kyra and I film the first three episodes of our new travel show, Perpetual Motion.

Much research went into this acquisition. Much. Like maybe a solid 48 hours without sleep. My criteria was convoluted. Something small, easy to carry, not too expensive, but that could also shoot images fit to print. I initially looked at Leica. And nay - too expensive, too much commitment. Then at some Sony stuff. An older A7 (small-ish, full frame, etc), but it seemed soulless, no matter what Linhbergh says. If I was going to gamble, I wanted something that inspired me. Something which would allow me to create an image on the camera, not in post. Something that made me feel like I was shooting film, only not wasting a wad of coin every time I burned a frame. And so I started looking at Fujifilm - much to the delight of my friend Nimi from Big D Speedshop, an avid Fuji shooter, fellow surfer and generally dope dude.

Why Is It So Hard

If this makes you feel nothing, you're probably part robot...

Thirty Five Millimeter | Biltmore & Monticello

From the largest private residence in the United States to one of the most important ones. This roll was shot while traveling between Asheville, NC and Charlottesville, VA. We visited both the Biltmore Estate and Monticello, two homes, as mentioned, of tremendous significance. This was my father's first time on the East Coast, and as an avid student of both history and politics, he insisted we include the latter in our travels. Not much else to say about all this, other than that if you haven't visited, you should.

Check out more of my 35mm musings here.

drkrm

Note: I wrote this poem, probably intoxicated, in June of 2014.

This.
It occurs often.
Taking it’s time.
Your face, conflicted.
Mine, understood.
I see past the previous.
Forward.
I am eager.
You are optimistic.
The sun through the kitchen window.
Above the sink.
The sound.
Jazz.
I look at you through an open eye.
It’s enough.
My arm reaches out.
Reels you in.
The same thing.
Sunday.
She’s something else.
Incredible.
And there’s so much more.

Raz Simone

What I've been listening to lately...

You know, there was this time I thought I was ready to share some shit from Raz. A friend. Someone from where I'm from. Better friends with my God brother, but still. Then I didn't. I hesitated. I assumed. Now, though, I don't give quite as many fucks (see: this). So here's something substantial. Something he's done recently that I think leans hard on the what we need, and has a lot less of the what we wants.

BTS | Baja Norte

Three weeks beyond the border. Into Baja to film the first episode of our new series, Perpetual Motion. Before we crossed, I picked up a new camera (because all my shit was stolen in Seattle). Something small. Something that wouldn't distract. An XE-3, Fuji's latest prosumer class rangefinder with a 23mm f/2 lens. Kyra made me an adjustable paracord strap, and I hung the thing around my neck or over my shoulder the entire time - taking photos whenever and wherever we stopped. Unlike my Canon kit, the Fuji system was nearly unnoticeable. Found myself doing a double-take to make sure it hadn't slipped loose. And while the rangefinder setup was a new steez to me, I quickly learned that people, mostly, found it less obvious, less obtrusive. They smiled as I did behind the body, my face peering out from one side, an eye open, looking through the EVF. It was different. It was better. So, here's an assortment of photographs I took with that little Fuji, each of which came SOC, and remain unadulterated. Testament to it, I suppose. But also a good example of just how much better everything looks in Baja.

Thirty Five Millimeter | The Blue Ridge Parkway

This is the third (maybe fourth?) roll of film that was shot during our ride up the East Coast. After a few nights in Nashville, we headed east through Gatlinburg, TN - one of the weirdest places I've ever been and where I acquired a most dope wiener dog shirt - and into the Great Smoky Mountains along the Blue Ridge Parkway. We eventually found our way to Asheville, NC, where we stayed the night and then spent the following day exploring the Biltmore Estate (next roll). This was my first foray into that big stretch of green running across four (maybe five?) states up the East Coast. And while the pace was just about geriatric and the tourist attractions a pungent mix of terrible and comical, it was a beautiful ride, and a great way to shake off the post off-motorcycle-incident that my father incurred. More to come.

Check out more of my 35mm musings here.

Nipsey...

What I've (also) been listening to lately...

Baja Norte?

We're in #Baja filming the first episode of our new #Perpetual_Motion series. Stay tuned! 📸 @thecalloftheroad

A post shared by WESTx1000 (@westx1000) on Feb 8, 2018 at 12:25pm PST

We just finished filming the first episode of our new series, Perpetual Motion.

Click here and throw a subscribe at our YouTube channel?

Merlin's Merlins

When WWII ended, my grandfather purchased an 85-ft ASR boat from AAF surplus. The boat was designed to rescue downed pilots off the coast of HI. It was powered by three Merlin V12 engines making a total of 4500 horsepower, consuming 125 gallons of fuel per motor, per hour. His boat, 'The Adventure,' had a 4000 gallon fuel capacity, and if my math is right, could burn the entire tank in ten hours at full throttle. He paid $8000 for the vessel, when fuel was $0.32/gallon, so again, if my math is correct, filling the tank would run him $1280. He ran an illegal poker game on the boat during his post war years in Hawaii. The vessel was eventually sold and spent the rest of its life ferrying tourists to the USS Arizona memorial site.

He turns 97 in May.

Double Shot

A post shared by Justin W. Coffey (@justinwcoffey) on Jan 26, 2018 at 3:04pm PST

Inspired by the WWII bomber jackets on display at the Pima Air Museum in Tucson, AZ, I asked my friend @thr_asher to throw a custom paint job onto the back of my old ICON 1000 jacket. This is the result.

So Long

What I've been listening to lately...

Thirty Five Millimeter | Nashville

This is the second roll I shot during our ride up the East Coast. After picking up our bikes in Daytona Beach, FL, we rode north to Savanna, GA for a night, and then on to ATL where we stayed for a few, visiting our friend and jeweler, Steve West. From Hotlanta we traveled Birmingham, AL to kick it with my old friend and former Cold Track Days photographer, Raymond, and also to visit the famed Motorsport Museum. All of that is included in this post. After Bham we made our way north to Nashville, TN for hot chicken and some honky-tonk shit. Memories from our time in Music City are pictured below.

Beau Geste

A film I must have seen a million times. Most influential in my life. Tragic, and yet wildly inspiring.

A State of Blindness

A post shared by Toddy Stewart (@endlessbummerny) on Oct 26, 2017 at 12:57pm PDT

"Apparently we live a good portion of our lives in a state of blindness, our brain enforcing minuscule moments of obscurity as our eyes scan the world around us. Evolution’s logic seemingly that were we to see every single moment as clearly as we do when we settle upon focus, we’d either be perpetually sea sick or our heads would explode from all the information."

- Toddy Stewart (of The Endless Bummer)

Thirty Five Millimeter | Daytona to ATL

For whatever reason, I've overlooked a great deal of images I shot during the twilight hours of summer in 2016, when my father, Kyra and myself rode a trio of Indian Motorcycles from Daytona Beach, FL to Lebanon, NJ. Kyra wrote about our trip for RideApart, using a few photos taken by the both of us. But like a lot of our adventures, I dragged along something more archaic - in this case, a 'Safari Green' Yashica T4 and a half-dozen rolls of film. This is the first roll. I'll get around to posting the remaining five. Promise.

Bruce

I could say an awful lot about all this. Bruce, his films, their influence.

But we all know how important he was and they are.

So just enjoy this.

Ramblin' Man

What I've been listening to lately...