Ride Report - Belden

The first time I ride with a new group, I’m always a little anxious. It’s like going on a date for the first time, you are just feeling everyone out and getting indoctrinated into that group’s way of operating. Every riding group has their own pace, different riders have different roles on the road, and different expectations.

My riding group in Tennessee really aligned with my natural pace and everybody’s skill and experience was pretty similar. I always felt comfortable riding shoulder to shoulder with guys like Kyle, Wes, Brian, Colby, and Wes H. because naturally we just rode the same way. Jon Dragonette and I would always joke about how we subconsciously began shifting at the exact same time together, we would actually match the pitch of our engines like a choir- pretty ridiculous and cheesy, but it’s true. When you put down so many miles next to someone, you both become one unit on the road. Jon and I would call it “singing the 4-speed song”.

Anyway, one night at Uncle’s Choppers we were drinking beers in a circle and Dennis mentioned he wanted to get a mountain chopper trip in before winter hit. This was the last week of October and the NorCal mountains get cold fast, it could be covered with snow by November. I was stoked on the idea and said I’d be interested- I met Dennis a few weeks earlier at Mike’s shop for a Thursday night ride. I had just gotten home from Boise that Monday on my bike and had not had time to go through any mechanical shit. Of course, I broke down that night riding with a pack of new guys haha. It’s always humbling to be “that guy” with problems, it keeps me down to earth, the second I start to feel cool or overconfident, my bike puts me right in my place and makes me look like an idiot.

It’s funny because that night riding out to Uncle’s with Tim, Dennis, and Jake, I broke down again on the freeway haha, I was excited to have a chance to redeem myself and get in a proper out of town trip with these guys and see how they roll.

The plan was to meet at the California Club in Auburn early Saturday morning for a few drinks before takeoff. I had my bike all packed down, I was wearing my huge fur coat to keep me warm and also double as a pillow that night. I typically don’t use a tent on bike trips, It’s a pain to bring one on my bike, and I hate the idea of having to rush to set one up before dark when I want to just start drinking and having a good time. I packed a roll-up air pad which is super nice to have for warmth.

I rode up to the bar, bikes were all lined up right in front. The crew for the trip would be Jake, Dennis, Zack, Rhett, Ben, and myself. We were all on rigid cone shovelheads except Ben who was building his shovel, and was on a Sporty. I parked, hopped off and admired the other guys’ whips. I love seeing people’s daily riders, it’s fascinating to me, it’s like getting a glimpse into their personality, I really feel like a daily rider becomes an extension of you. Rhett’s bike is super clean, like pristine, really nicely built, super comfortable and built for the long haul, Dennis has a really narrow tall/skinny chop, but packs meticulously and brings alot of useful things for the group, Zack is the exact opposite- very minimal packing and no emphasis on comfort. Jake’s frisco pegs are very high, his knees were almost at his shoulders. really cool to see the different styles of these guys.

We had a couple drinks to get warmed up for the ride. I had a bloody Mary, and it was really good, spicy just how I like them. The actual mileage to Belden is not that far, but its all winding mountain roads, so it takes a while. You also have to plan gas stops accordingly with small gas tanks.

We all fired up our bikes and went to the gas station next door to top off. The on-ramp in old town Auburn is a 5mph off-camber hairpin turn. I thought I’d lead since we were heading through my territory, I grew up in Auburn, and our route was I-80 up to HWY 174 through Nevada City, then hop on 49.

Upon merging, the guys immediately blew past me ha! I think there is a style of riding that is adopted if you live in a California city- you really have to “fight” on your chopper to survive. Splitting lanes, passing big rigs, navigating abrupt congestion, uninsured motorists, and shitty quality roads where you must veer to avoid 12” deep potholes at any second- California is a beast, and the people that ride here do it with a with a sense of fearlessness and orchestrated “controlled chaos” not seen in other parts of the country.

I had been riding in the Southern US for the past 4 years and really recalibrated my riding style to more relaxed so I knew I’d be riding in the back most of the trip.

We exited in Colfax at 174 and discovered Zack’s transmission was loose. We pulled out some tools and got it tightened back down no problem. As we rolled into Grass Valley on 174 a family of deer crossed the road right in front of us, deer actually crossed in between a couple of our bikes, I was amazed no one got hit! The animals in town are comfortable around humans, I see bears a couple times a year, deer every day, mountain lions are hard to see but they are among us.

We got onto 49 feeling pretty good and hit the twisties. Everyone’s bike was running really well and the scenery was insane. most of 49 cuts through the mountains next to a river- there are tons of empty campsites at this time of year and the area isn’t blown up like a lot of other more popular places in CA.

We stopped for lunch in some little town, they didn’t have a functioning gas station but the burgers were tasty and the beer was cold. The sun felt really good but you could tell it was gonna be freezing that night in Belden.

I’m not sure if Belden is an actual town or a Census Designated Place. There is only a Bar, a motel, and a few primitive campsites. I had never been before, but it is a very popular destination in the chopper community because they are biker/party friendly and they essentially let you “take over” the town.

When highway 49 opens up and connects with 89 you feel like you are magically transported to Montana. It’s high elevation meadow, totally wide open views, huge estates with cattle and old wooden fences. The colors are breathtaking, rich golds and browns under blue California sky, NORCAL, baby!

We head north on 89 headed towards highway 70, which dives deep into mountains to Belden Town. A couple of the guys got turned around and went the wrong way, Ben and I were at the back of the pack and saw the others figure it out and turn around. The pack was back together and I really tried to stay tight with the leaders going forward.

The last gas stop we grabbed beer for the next morning return trip. When you get into Belden, you ride over a rad steel bridge with a big sign that says “BELDEN TOWN”, it’s a really cool place- like an abandoned old west movie set- there is a river running through the town, and the old wooden deck wraps around the bar, the motel is on top. There are some weird hippie type vehicles parked on the side of the main drag. We park the bikes and crack beers, the sun was already set behind the mountains but we were just warming up for a long night of belligerent dude time. When we walk in, the old gal at the bar is super sweet and says “Boys, I’ll stay open as long as you want, if you’re drinkin I’m serving, don’t even give me your cards, we’ll just settle up at the end of the night”.

We ordered a round and hit the pool table. The beer at this place was priced like it’s 1995, I drank all night and my bill was around $22. I started talking to Zack and I asked him what his favorite bike was- without hesitation he replied that his own bike was his favorite. This really made me happy because it was such a genuine response. I feel like alot of guys get sucked into the buy/flip/raffle business of bikes and parts, and don’t get to enjoy a longterm experience with one machine. But what I initially sensed from this group was they just liked to ride their personal motorcycles and that is what keeps their fire going. We drunkenly agreed that Max Schaaf’s crusty blue knuckle was one of the most inspiring bikes we’ve ever seen. We were all majorly sucking at pool and it would have been hilarious to watch us playing so poorly if you were a sober bystander.

Someone broke out some mushroom capsules, and those that wanted to get wild went for it. We began to explore, walked outside and sat on the deck, smoked cigs and watched the river, walked down to the river and sat by the water, then we went out back and started climbing a children’s play structure. After hours of partying, no one felt any psychedelic effects from the mushrooms and we started joking about how we might have mistakenly brought some “city girl” herbal supplement like Lion’s Mayne. Either that or the guys’ tolerance was very high (which I don’t doubt ha).

At around 2am we started paying our tabs and figuring out where we would sleep. There is no one in the town anywhere, we could have passed out on the front door step of the bar and it would have been acceptable. At one point Zack starts trying to convince the group to get a hotel room, because the only gear he brought was an old mexican blanket. Everyone else was pretty dead set on sleeping under the stars so we decided NO on the room, and YES to a weird wooden structure 30’ above ground on the other side of the highway.

We all grabbed our sleeping bags and beer and hiked across the bridge in the pitch black night. The structure was right on the main highway, it looked like some type of prehistoric mining machinery, it had a huge opening in the middle with a chute that went down to the bottom.

As we approached our “tree house” for the night, Zack falls down into a ditch and we all start cracking up. We climbed the stairs and everyone set up their bags on the wooden floor. I fell asleep immediately but was woken up at some point early in the morning by Ben vomiting off the side of the tree house. I could hear it falling down through the trees. It might have been the Lion’s Mayne. I felt bad because getting sick when you aren’t at home is really uncomfortable and makes it much worse.

Jake took Zack into his bag so he could make it through the night without freezing to death.

The next morning when the sun came up we were all pretty excited to ride. It was a beautiful morning and the plan was to do a complete loop and stay on 70 W out towards Yuba City, then head back to Sacramento from there. Ben was feeling pretty bad so we let him sleep in while we went across the river to wrench up our bikes before the return trip.

I really love the ritual of going through my bike, we all had been pretty solid the way there and for the most part riding these bikes successfully is all about preventative maintenance, just making sure things are tight or knowing to check them before it’s too late. But, there are very few things that can’t be solved in a pinch, and with a group of 6 you can always count on someone to have something you don’t.

We packed up our bikes and rode back across to the tree house which was already in the sun, so we could have a beer and warm up. Everyone’s bike started pretty easy.

To my surprise, the road out of Belden to Yuba City was even more beautiful and substantial than the road in. The road was cut narrowly in between two huge jutting mountains, the gray shale type rock looked really cool. We had a great morning buzz and figured we’d stop at this rad bar called the Double G Iron Horse Saloon. It sits on the edge of a mountain cliff with a really nice view.

Inside the bar’s gift shop, I bought a weird little tweaker rave bracelet for my wife, to support the local economy of Westwood, CA.

After a great morning of riding we finally started seeing civilization. We stopped at an Ace Hardware in Marysville to get some screws for a jockey shift lever, a couple of the guys passed a bottle of whiskey around, and the group started breaking off to their homes. Rhett, Jake and I would cut over back to Placer and El Dorado counties, while Dennis, Zack, and Ben would head into Sacramento.

Jake, Rhett and I were on 65 which is a really fast open highway, we pulled into a gas station and Jake noticed his bike wash gushing oil. With the bike running we bent down to see if we could trace the leak, it was his cam cover that was loose. I had the same thing happen to me at the first Virginia City roundup. Quick tight-up and a shitton of paper towels and we were back on the road.

The whole crew ended up making it home in one piece.

The “one night” bike trip is definitely a historical tradition in chopper culture. You read all the time in the outlaw biographies how every weekend they were ripping outta town with a group of buddies to raise some hell. Mike Vils tells stories about LA in the 60s- how the original club guys would just hop on their bikes and ride to Vegas and back in 1 day- just for the hell of it, to experience the pure joy and rush of riding choppers. No official reason, no special destination, just an excuse to hop on your bike and ride with friends.

This was my first time riding with this group of guys, and I was really just getting to know everyone and see how they do things. It’s really fun to experience the different styles of the culture. To me, they represent a style and mentality that prioritizes riding with friends over other aspects of bikes. I personally just don’t really connect with the whole buy/flip thing. It’s nothing personal and everyone enjoys this stuff differently, but it’s just boring to me. The story I’m inspired by is the dude out there replacing his tires. The guy who’s bike has “become his”, and he will take it to the grave. Fuck, I think I’ve known Dennis for a little over a year and the dude has replaced more tires than I can even keep track of- that is what I admire and get excited about.

A motorcycle is just a hunk of steel, potential energy waiting to be turned into kinetic energy. The important part is where it takes you, how your bike develops and deteriorates with you, the characters you meet on the road, and the stories you will tell.

To me, thats what its all about.

Written as I remember.

-Tay