Brian A. Hopkins
Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA)
Horror Writers Association (HWA)

Miscellaneous Motorcycle Pics

 

June 30, 2003, Day One of ZZR1200 ownership -- just two weeks after totaling my last bike in a deer strike.  I wasn't even healed up yet, as I had a pulled shoulder muscle and some bruised ribs.  I'll never forget that first ride home from the dealership, hitting the I-40 entrance ramp, needing to merge in front of a truck, and giving the ZZR full throttle.  She nearly ran out from under me, rocketing me out onto the interstate at well over 100 mph in less time than it took me to say, "Oh shit!"  The truck that I'd been worried about was instantly history in my mirrors.  It was weeks before I could get that first grin wiped off my face.  It still returns every time I fire up the bike.

The Honda Magna that the ZZR replaced after the poor Honda was destroyed in a deer strike.  I see those damn deer every morning.  They're watching and waiting for the opportunity to take down the ZZR.  I've always loved Magnas.  This was the third one that I had owned over the years.

Betty captured in a rare moment in the saddle of the ZZR. Looks like she thinks she's gonna ride it, doesn't she?  Ha!  Fat chance of that.

A couple solo trips.  I do a lot of these on the weekends, generally getting out for five or six hours, visiting various little podunk towns in Oklahoma, often having lunch at a Sonic Drive-In (every little town in OK has a Sonic).  Left:  Lone Wolf, Oklahoma (about 300 miles round trip).  Rode there one Saturday or Sunday, just so I could say I had been there on account of the whole wolf connection.  Took the photo, turned around and came home.  Right: Buttes near Hobart, Oklahoma.  Typical solo ride photo -- the bike in front of some landscape.

I met up and rode with writer and biker-buddy Bill Allen (from Tulsa) to a science fiction convention in Memphis.  To the left is the ZZR beside his Nomad cruiser.  A less likely pair of motorcycle companions is hard to imagine: the big heavy cruiser and the sleek sportbike; me in full face helmet and race leathers; Bill in fringed vest and dog bowl helmet (when he wore one).  I kept my speed under 80 for him.  LOL.  To the right is a shot taken by Selina Rosen and Lynn Stranathan (Yard Dog Press) as I passed their car somewhere on I-40 en route to the convention -- only picture I have of the ZZR and me in motion.

More solo adventures.  Lake Thunderbird on the left (just a hop, skip, and twist of the throttle from my house).  St Louis, Oklahoma on the right.  Until I stumbled across the town, I didn't even know there was a St Louis in Oklahoma. Their welcome sign is a riot.  Soon as I saw it, I hooked a u-turn and went back for a pic.

Fellow OKC ZZR rider James Pratt and yours truly at Robber's Cave State Park, OK.  This was en route to ride Talimena Drive (the road from Talihina, OK to Mena, AR) in the Winding Stair Mountains -- some real twisty fun there.

The ZZR in the living room in the dead of winter so I could mount my new bags on her.  (It was awful cold out in the garage.)  Our ferret, Nip, checks out the bike, perhaps trying to reach the starter button.  For those wondering how I talked my wife into allowing the bike into the living room, get this ... she was the one who suggested it.  Ayup, she's a keeper.

Shots from two separate two-wheeled assaults on Talimena Drive.  On the left, mine and Crazytrain's ZZRs, Bob G. on a BMW, and two red VFRs (one belonging to Greg Ruffin, the other belonging to British chap named Andy, working in Dallas at the time).  On the right, a larger gathering: four silver ZZRs, two black ones, and two red Honda VFRs (Greg's and a guy from Paris, TX who we never heard from again after that ride).  On both trips, we rode the damn tires off the bikes in the twisties of SE Oklahoma and SW Arkansas.  Great fun!

However, three of our group did get nabbed by local law enforcement.  Shame on them!  (Good thing I didn't get caught myself.  Ha!)

James Pratt and I near Lake Eufaula, with Crazytrain's ZZR between us.  To the right is Gregger, Aaron, and myself, with Crazytrain's ZZR squeezing into the shot again during a gas stop in Talihina, OK.  (Both photos by Crazytrain.)

Yours truly on the left in HJC jacket and helmet.  That helmet bought the farm in the deer crash, but at least the insurance company paid me for it -- the same could not be said of the jacket (not that one), gloves, jeans, and sneakers also shredded in the wreck.  On the right, the ZZR rolls over 10,000 miles in less than one year of ownership.  She actually rolled over 13,000 before June 30th of 2004 and the miles continue to pile up, 'cause she's the finest bike I've ever thrown a leg over.

I replaced my poor dead Triumph Tiger (after the engine exploded) with a BMW F650GS Dakar.  Here are some shots from the first month or two, as I broke in the bike by exploring the Oklahoma boonies.  Here are also some shots of Chris and Rich (both on DR-Z400's) and myself cutting up along the Canadian River ... including one shot of me and the Dakar down in some sand, with Rich standing around laughing about it instead of lifting the bike off my leg.  What are friends for, eh?  This was my first time in sand on the Dakar and I was still running street tires at the time.

 

 Of course, it didn't take me long at all to mount some knobbies (Dunlop 606's to be precise) on the Dakar...

In October 2005, I rode with the OK Dualsport gang (James Pratt, ZRod, Connie, and others) down to Ravia, Oklahoma to watch a trials bike competition.  Those guys do amazing things on their motorcycles, climbing straight up the side of huge boulders, hopping from one wheel to the other to turn the bike in place, and so on.  Incredible stuff.  I wish I was a better photographer, but here are a couple shots that I took.  They don't do the skill of the riders and the complexity of the course justice at all.  Not even close.  The ride to Ravia was an interesting one, as Pratt and ZRod found some interesting and challenging offroad routes.  ZRod led us through what I'll forever call "The Sand from Hell."  Very deep and soft.  I was doing well on the Dakar, but Connie went down twice in front of me and I stopped behind her both times.  The second time, I lost my balance and fell in the warm, soft sand.  Plunk!  Then, leaving the riverbank and cutting up through a neighborhood park in Norman, I allowed the edge of a sidewalk to trap my front wheel and slam me down on the concrete -- and I do mean SLAM.  The Dakar took some damage and my hip was purple for a couple weeks.  Most dramatic crash of the ride, however, goes to Connie.  She had a major whipout in a sharp downhill corner on a gravel road.  After sliding and tumbling a good 30 feet off the road, she came to rest in the scrub brush just 5 or 10 feet short of a massive clump of prickly pear cactus.  Yikes!

In November of 2005, my buddy Daniel and I rode to Eureka Springs to ride the Arkansas Twisties with Crazytrain and some of my other sportbiker friends. We had a great time, laying down rubber all over northwestern Arkansas.  It was my first introduction to Hwy 123.  What sort of nut designed that steep series of super tight 10 mph switchbacks around Mount Judea?  Aeeiiiiiiiiiiiii!  Talk about a handful on the long wheelbased ZZR!  I needed a little 600 cc sportbike to ride that road properly.  Here's a shot of Daniel and me as we were leaving my house.  Isn't his R1200GS a beauty?  I've got to add one of those to my own stable...