If you live in a colder climate (as I do) and are wondering (as I was), “What could a California company possibly know about heated motorcycle gear?” you should know that “California Heat” is something of a misnomer. The family-owned and operated company is based in Maryland and presumably named after how you should feel riding in sunny California.

I don’t live in California, so as I geared up for my February trip from my home at 6,000 feet in Southern Utah to Las Vegas for the AIMExpo show, I was excited to try out California Heat’s 12V Jacket Liner ($230), Pant Liners ($190), and Gauntlet Gloves ($175), all covered by a lifetime warranty. [Note: Make sure to check the info for each product to see what’s included and what you must purchase separately for operation.] 

The windproof and waterproof gloves are made of nylon and leather with a tricot lining and Thinsulate insulation. They feature heating elements on both sides of the hands from the wrist to the fingertips. There is a rubber squeegee on the left thumb, and the index fingers are touchscreen compatible, but given the thickness of the fingertip, it’s a little clumsy.  

A great feature I haven’t seen on some other heated gloves is the 90-degree L-plug. California Heat could take it up a notch by adding an L-junction or plug on the cords that come out of the jacket liner as well, which would make it less cumbersome to slide the gloves over the cuffs of your riding jacket after the gloves are plugged into the liner.

Otherwise, as to the wind-resistant, water-repellant ripstop nylon jacket liner, I have no complaints. It has zipper pockets for the wires when not in use and other regular pockets, including two outer pockets and three inner pockets (I especially appreciated the zippered one). The pant liners are the same composition as the jacket, also with zippered pockets for the wires, and speaking of zippers, the pants have zippers halfway up the sides to make boot management easier. 

When I left my house for Las Vegas, it was in the low 40s. I was on the interstate with an 80-mph speed limit, so I had the added wind chill factor, but I also had my windshield, and it was sunny, which helped. I run a little warmer anyway and am pretty used to colder temps, so when I started, I set both the jacket and pant dials on the Dual Dial Temp Controller ($100, sold separately) just barely above “off.” The website says the controller has “20 variable stages up to 135 degrees.” There are tactile soft “clicks” on the dials, and I counted more than 30 clicks, so I just used a visual reference. I was plenty comfortable at the lowest setting, but even on the ride back when temps were in the upper 30s, I didn’t need to turn it up much past a third of the dial.

With my job, I don’t have the luxury of only riding during my area’s warmer season, and with the California Heat gear, not only is my job easier but I now look forward to extending my riding season. If they could just bring some California heat to all the snow on the roads…

For more information, visit the California Heat website.

See all of Rider’s apparel reviews here.

Not much about me screams either “sportbike” or “trackday.” With a shaved head and beard nearly as long as my face is tall, to look at me, you’d probably guess I ride a Harley. And you wouldn’t be wrong. My main bike currently is a 2004 Heritage Softail Classic. I’m a cruiser guy. But the length of my beard might belie the length of time I’ve been riding – at least this most recent stint. According to a website I found with a glossary of both common and obscure motorcycling terms, I’m a “BAB,” or Born Again Biker, which is “someone who has recently returned to riding after a period of absence…and really ought to get some advanced training.” 

I’ve taken a couple MSF parking-lot classes that were informative, but when the opportunity arose to pick up a Yamaha MT-09 SP test bike in Southern California and take it to the Yamaha Champions Riding School’s two-day ChampSchool in Las Vegas, I jumped at it. I may be a cruiser guy about to turn 50, but I still have a pulse, and the idea of learning from some of the best racers in the country got that pulse, well, racing.

Related: Yamaha Announces 2023 Updated and Returning Models

Preparing to ‘Ride Like a Champion’ 

Prior to the school, I was sent the online Champ U “Champion’s Habits: Core Curriculum.” I talk more about this in the sidebar below, but in the immediate, it was very helpful to watch the courses before attending the class. Much of the information was repeated within the first couple hours at the Las Vegas Motor Speedway, but this method of instruction made perfect sense to me. It’s the same reason I usually have my 10-year-old son read through all the instructions before jumping into a project. That way, once you actually get down to business, you understand the big picture – where you’re going and how you’re going to get there. I was pleased that most things the instructors at ChampSchool said in those first hours were lessons I remembered from Champ U.    

That’s not to say that I wasn’t still nervous. After all, even if you’ve read the instructions, sometimes you break the little pieces when you’re building a model. I wasn’t particularly interested in breaking the $12,000 motorcycle that didn’t belong to me…or the little pieces that make up my body.  

Related: 2023 Yamaha MT-10 SP | First Ride Review

But my mind was put to ease by one of the first things ChampSchool Chief Instructor and CEO Nick Ienatsch instructed us to do: Turn to the person standing next to us and say, “I don’t care what you think about my riding.” I’m guessing that even after that, most attendees at the class probably actually did care, myself included, but that was just me dealing with my own insecurities, and starting the two days with that directive was a good reminder. More importantly, even though I was one of the slower riders, I was never made to feel that way by the instructors. 

It also helped that the approximately 25 students were divided into two groups depending on track and general riding experience (and then further divided into an approximate 4:1 student-instructor ratio). The two groups would alternate sessions on the track and sessions in the classroom reviewing the time they had just spent on the track and reinforcing other concepts. The only time all of us were on the track together was toward the end of the second day – at which point it wasn’t so nerve wracking being passed by the more advanced students, and I was able to keep my focus on my riding.    

Strength Through Struggles 

In between each track session, students were asked to rank themselves from 1-10 on a scorecard of “CHAMPS” categories (Comfort/fun, Have brakes past tip-in/efficiency, Apexes/direction, My plan/eyes, Position/timing of body, Smooth initial/final 5%). My three lowest scores were consistently related to braking, scanning forward, and my body position.  

While “eyes” was obviously tied to “My plan” (scan ahead on the track and make a plan), the benefit of the CHAMPS scorecard during the classroom sessions was that it gave riders another kind of plan: the things they needed to work on when they went back on the track. 

Another great feature of the school is the filming and reviewing of student riding, which happened twice, once toward the end of the first day and then again before lunch on the second day, with the review of the footage happening at the meal after the filming. 

In order to move the process along, students were either taken out two at a time to watch their riding with an instructor on a laptop or their riding was reviewed on a larger projector screen with the whole group. For the review of my first ride, I was one of the smaller two-at-a-time groups. I’m not sure if this was by design, but I was glad I didn’t have to watch my puttering along in front of the whole group. And after getting almost a blow-by-blow analysis of the entire ride by my instructor, I was pleased to see improvement in the second-day video (thankfully, since this one was viewed in front of the main group). And like with the CHAMPS scorecard, watching the videos gave me a plan for when I returned to the track.       

ChampSchool ‘Roller Coaster Moments’ and Other Surprises 

The cost of attending the two-day school at the Las Vegas Speedway was $2,495 (prices vary depending on the track), not counting travel or rental costs for a bike if you don’t bring your own or the required “standard track gear” – in my case, track leathers and boots. This is a little higher than some fees I’ve seen, but considering the bona fides of the instructors, the quality of instruction, the amount of track time, and the online curriculum sent in advance of the class, I think it’s a solid value.  

However, there were a couple experiences where it felt like the organizers and instructors thought, Let’s give them an even bigger bang for their buck. I called these the “Roller Coaster Moments.” There were lessons to be gleaned from each one, but mostly I just walked away glad to be alive.  

The first one was shown in the online curriculum…kind of. At several points in the videos, instructors hop in a minivan to illustrate how riding can be similar to driving. Makes sense. And so it also made sense when, after some introductory instruction at the speedway, they said, “Okay, let’s get in the minivans, and we’ll illustrate some of these things we’ve been talking about.” Sure, I thought. I remember seeing them doing this in the videos. 

What they didn’t show in the videos is the extreme version of illustrating the points. 

Did you know a minivan can take corners at 80-plus mph? I didn’t. Nor did I necessarily think it should. My instructor for the two days (and minivan driver that first day) was Cody Wyman. In addition to all of Cody’s racing accolades, he is also a professional driving instructor. Again, did you know a minivan can take corners at 80-plus mph? Apparently it can, although my death grip on the underside of my seat (you can probably still see my claw marks) was because I was convinced we were going to go ass-over-teakettle. 

Cody was sure to check in on all his passengers as we careened around the track, and I think I mumbled something like “I’m good,” and I think he said some other things we were supposed to be learning, but it wasn’t until they repeated the exercise the next day that I was able to breathe and pick up some of the finer nuances of braking and finding the straightest lines to the next apex.    

The second “Roller Coaster Moment” was riding two-up with an instructor. I’m not sure what else to say besides it was like being on the back of a rocket. I don’t remember much beyond trying not to collapse Cody’s lungs or fracture his ribs with my arms as I clutched the grab bar that had been affixed to the Yamaha MT-10 tank in front of him while he took corners at speeds that I’m pretty sure were faster than the minivan. At least the van had seatbelts.      

While I joke about this being a “Roller Coaster Moment,” the lesson was indeed solid, and it segues into my biggest surprise – or perhaps realization – of exactly how amazing motorcycles are when it comes to moving through space and time, especially sportbikes – even with my 200-lb butt on the pillion.  

Several times over the course of the two days, we were told to trust the bike. We all hear about “lean angle” and “rider triangle” and “geometry,” but it was fascinating (and reassuring) to hear from professionals exactly how much these machines have been designed to take your physical inputs and convert them using math and science into results that allow the bike to cling to the earth in seeming defiance of natural laws. But I learned that they’re actually pushing those very laws. 

Common ChampSchool expressions like “Load the tire before you work the tire” revolve around math and science. Adding 5% of brakes starts to compress the fork, which changes the geometry of the bike and widens the tire’s contact patch, and suddenly (well, similar to his dislike of words like “flick” or “grab,” Nick would probably scold me for such an “abrupt” word choice as “suddenly”) you can add more brakes or lean angle to make a tight corner. It’s more than “man and machine”; it’s an amazing symbiosis. We are riding the motorcycles, and they are listening to what our bodies are saying.  

It’s also worth noting I was a little surprised about the caliber of the instructors, not only in their accomplishments but also – and maybe more importantly – their behavior. Nick may have started the class by saying that they would be hard on us, but what I found from all the instructors was positive correction and consistent support and encouragement. And Cody was about the nicest guy you could imagine. Someone could say, “Well, sure, because you were paying them,” but a few weeks after ChampSchool at the AIMExpo show, with hundreds of attendees, I was wandering around trying to take it all in when I heard, “Hey Paul!” It was Cody. I hadn’t even noticed him, and he could’ve just let me pass, but instead he stopped me and took a minute to talk. He didn’t have to do that, but the fact that he did spoke volumes to me.

Related: 2023 AIMExpo Highlights

ChampSchool Final Takeaways 

I attended ChampSchool for two reasons: to become a better at my job with Rider, especially when I need to attend a bike launch at a track, and to become a better rider. I’m sure you want to feel like I’m a competent associate editor, but you’re probably reading this to know whether you will become a better rider if you attend ChampSchool. For me, it was mission(s) accomplished. 

Between Las Vegas and my hometown in southern Utah, there’s a great 12-mile stretch of interstate (yes, interstate) through the Virgin River Gorge, with tall canyon walls and lots of curves. Riding home after ChampSchool, I trusted my bike and I trusted myself. I centered myself and repeated my mantra as I rode toward the slice in the mountains where the interstate cut into the towering walls, and I opened it up a little more through the gorge, as traffic was relatively thin that day.

Still cautious but more confident, I pushed myself. The catchphrases that were repeated in both the online curriculum and at the class echoed in my head – load the tire before you work the tire, brake until you’re happy with speed and direction, and a host of others – and a stretch of road that had been a little more intimidating than enjoyable just a few days earlier was now more fun and exciting. 

So thank you to Nick, Cody, and everyone else involved with ChampSchool for taking this cruiser guy and making me a better rider…and making the ride more enjoyable.  

For more information, including upcoming ChampSchool classes, as well as other course offerings, such as the one-day ChampStreet program, which is geared more toward street riding, visit the Yamaha Champions Riding School website. 

SIDERBAR: Champ U 

While the Champ U online Core Curriculum is available for free as part of ChampSchool, for those who are unable to attend one of the ChampSchool events, purchasing the Core Curriculum independently is an excellent alternative, especially considering it’s on sale for only $49.95 as of publication.  

For that cost, you get 12 modules comprising a total of 43 video lessons (most ranging from 3-7 minutes long) and corresponding quizzes. The 12 subjects run the gamut – from front and rear braking, downshifting, and body position to mental approach, the 100 points of grip, and a concept they call “radius=mph” – and there are more than 30 drills to reinforce these lessons.  

If it seems like there is some overlap, you’re right, and as a former teacher, I can tell you that learning comes from repetition, a tactic Champ U employs very effectively when topics intersect one another. In fact, a decent amount of the information was familiar to me already, but much like I still regularly ride the test course at my local DMV, I also think it’s valuable to hear the same information from a different perspective. And along those lines, the Champ U content creators know how to turn a phrase. Nearly two months after the class, many of the pithy catchphrases from the Core Curriculum still roll around my head as I roll around on my bike.  

They also effectively use humor, which keeps the content from feeling like you’re back to studying up for your motorcycle endorsement. Video production value is good, and most of the instructors look very comfortable on the other side of the camera.    

The information is largely geared toward track riding and sport bikes, but they drew several parallels to street riding. Even where they didn’t, as primarily a street rider, I made several connections between the lessons and my own experiences. And once you buy it, it’s yours to revisit as often as you’d like. 

And if you know someone who is considering taking up riding or if you are new or recently returning to riding, Champ U is now offering a “New Rider” class with 35 lessons, 28 quizzes, and drills designed to prepare students for life as a motorcyclist at an introductory price of $19.95. 

More information at the Champions University Champ U courses webpage.

Racing up to the blind rise on the 2023 Indian Sport Chief, I roll off the throttle slightly, and the pleasing roar of the engine lowers to more of a threatening growl. As I crest the hill, there’s a moment of weightlessness, and I see a line of about a dozen other riders, all on the same performance cruisers, gliding down the roller coaster-like drop and blasting back up the sweeping left on the other side. It looks almost as if they are defying gravity – or getting ready to launch into the air. It’s a quick flash of a scene, a rush of exhilaration that makes me feel younger than my years, and I roll on the throttle again. The big Thunderstroke 116 responds without hesitation, pulling me forward as if it can read my mind and knows that, in that moment, all I want to do is catch up and take off into the sky with them.

The 2023 Indian Sport Chief: A New Take on a Familiar Favorite

The first Indian Chief, offering 61 inches of displacement, was released a little over 100 years ago. At the February launch for the Sport Chief, Brandon Kraemer, Indian’s VP of product and motorcycle electrification, said that Charles Franklin, who also designed the Scout, had a goal in mind when he developed the Chief.

“His goal was to take what was great about the Scout and basically make it a little bigger and a little more capable, a little more powerful,” he said, “and ultimately they did that.”

Kraemer continued to say that 100 years later, Indian “rebirthed that, with what you see here as the basis of the new Chief platform.”

He said that the Chief bridges the gap between the Scout and the heavier, more expensive Chieftain or Challenger ranges. Kraemer called it “a great canvas.”

Related: 2022 Indian Challenger Elite and Chieftain Elite | First Look Review

In 2021, we tested the new 2022 Indian Super Chief Limited, an up-spec, touring-ready version of the new Chief platform that included the standard Chief, the Chief Bobber, and the Super Chief, all of which feature the air-cooled Thunderstroke 111 49-degree V-Twin. The Dark Horse versions of the Chief and Chief Bobber and the Limited version of the Super Chief boast the Thunderstroke 116, which makes a claimed 120 lb-ft of torque at the crank compared to the 108 lb-ft of the 111 engine.

The Dark Horse/Limited models also have a 4-inch round touchscreen TFT instrument panel as an upgrade from the traditional analog gauge on the regular models, as well as standard ABS, an $800 option on the base models.

“We wanted to focus on a really flexible design that we could take to many different places,” Kraemer said of the Chief base, adding that the Sport Chief was the “first derivative coming out of the all-new platform.”

Taking It Up a Notch

Kraemer said that while the 2022 Chiefs were largely targeted after the bobber segment, “we always knew we were going to go after the performance segment second.” Enter the 2023 Indian Sport Chief.

“Going back to what we originally set the Chief architecture up for, we definitely have it in our wheelhouse,” Kraemer said and mentioned the obvious rival in this category, the Harley-Davidson Low Rider S. “That’s what we’re going after.”

In our review of the 2022 Indian Super Chief Limited, we said that the new “Chief lineup is more stripped-down and elemental, reflecting contemporary tastes. Like their ancestor, the new Chiefs draw inspiration from the modern-day Scout, with a shortened wheelbase and exposed twin laydown rear shocks rather than a single shock hidden behind bodywork. They’re also much lighter.”

We appreciated that the new rear dual shocks reduced the wheelbase and added agility but felt the 3 inches of resulting rear travel (down from 4.5) was a design compromise – “overall the ride is much firmer and less forgiving.”

Like the Dark Horses and Super Chief Limited, the 2023 Sport Chief is an up-spec model with the Thunderstroke 116 engine, the 4-inch touchscreen TFT display, and standard ABS. Its suspension and brakes get a major upgrade over previous Chief iterations, including the same front end as used on the Challenger bagger, with a 43mm KYB inverted fork offering 5.1 inches of travel and a pair of Brembo 4-piston calipers biting 320mm rotors.

When it comes to rear suspension, Kraemer said when they created the new Chief models, one thing they focused heavily on is what Indian calls the “Signature Line,” which runs from the steering stem all the way down through the axle.

“The rear shocks are a big part of that, having that continuation of that consistent line.” Much like the cross-pollination evident in the front end, Kraemer cited the Scout as inspiration for the rear suspension, but he also said the company recognized that on a heavyweight cruiser, customers are going to want to customize.

“And we are too,” he said. “Having outboard rear shocks makes it really easy to jack the bike up and change the suspension, or you can lower it as well if you want to go that route. Obviously we’re going higher with the Sport Chief.”

Along these lines, the Sport Chief has new piggyback Fox shocks with adjustable preload that bump travel up by an inch (to 4 inches) and lean angle up by 1 degree (to 29.5 degrees).

From a visual standpoint, a new quarter-fairing also sets the Sport Chief apart from the other models, combined with a new moto-style bar with a machined triple clamp and 6-inch machined riser. A solo gunfighter seat with 2 more inches of bolster than the standard Chief is complemented by mid-mount foot controls.

GEAR UP

• Helmet: Arai Contour-X 
• Jacket: Highway 21 Motordrome 
• Gloves: Highway 21 Hook Glove 
• Pants: Highway 21 Blockhouse Jeans 
• Boots: Highway 21 Low Primary Engineer 

The bike features cast wheels (19 inches in the front, 16 in the rear) wrapped in Pirelli Night Dragon tires, a 4-gallon fuel tank, a bobbed rear fender, dual exhausts, LED lighting, keyless ignition, cruise control, and three selectable ride modes: Sport, Standard, and Tour.

Where the Rubber Meets the Texas Roads

We tested the 2023 Indian Sport Chief on a 120-mile mix of Austin city streets, interstate, and winding Texas Hill Country roads. The pace was brisk where traffic would allow, and except for some patchy spots of construction around town, the conditions were perfect for trying out this new performance cruiser, especially rolling through Hill Country and the short side jaunt we took on a narrow road with some nice twisties.

The first thing I noticed when firing up the Sport Chief was the pleasing rumbling of that blacked-out Thunderstroke 116. We started our ride with some laps around the city, but it wasn’t until we hit the interstate that I really got a taste of what this bike wanted to do. Not to anthropomorphize too much, but I daresay the Sport Chief was just as eager as I was to open it up a little more than permitted by the stop-and-go of city driving.

The second thing I noticed was that round touchscreen TFT. Although it’s not new – at least to the lower-spec versions of the Chief – it’s still pretty to look at, much cooler than a rectangular display. Kraemer said it is important at Indian to keep adding tech without taking away from style, which he called “critical” to the company’s customers. “And it’s not easy, by the way, to find a round touchscreen.”

Riders can use the display to cycle through multiple interfaces, including two different gauge configurations, bike and ride information, and turn-by-turn navigation with connected features like weather and traffic overlays. Riders can also pair their smartphones to the panel via Bluetooth or USB and access music and phone information through the Ride Command system.

Once we got rolling, some of the unavoidable potholes and bumps of city riding were a little more jarring than I would’ve expected given the new suspension, and even with rear-cylinder deactivation, there was still some serious heat coming off the exhaust. But once we got outside of town and off the interstate into Hill Country, the Sport Chief really shone. And in this case, some of the positive response I experienced from the bike was directly related to that new rear suspension.

Changes to suspension subsequently alter the bike’s geometry. The new taller shocks not only give more lean angle but also pivot the front end and result in a slightly tighter rake of 28 degrees (from 29) and shorter 4.4 inches of trail (from 5.2). Kyle Goede, product manager for the Super Chief, said the reason they did this was for “flickability.”

“[It’s] a little bit easier to maneuver,” he said, adding that it was important when developing the bike to think about its performance aspect.

And Indian nailed it with that one. For a bike with a wet weight of 685 lb, it handled in the corners like a much lighter motorcycle. It was almost effortless. I can admit that I’m probably in the category of “most riders” and didn’t take advantage of the full increased lean angle, but it didn’t take much more than a bit of countersteering or shifting of my upper body to carve out a nice apex.

Speaking of those apexes, although I might’ve been more conservative in my cornering, when I came out of them and wanted to catch up, a twist of the throttle brought an immediate but steady and strong response. And as the speedometer climbed, the engine purred with a surprising smoothness, likely the result of the V-Twin’s counterbalancers.

One area where the ride felt a little rougher was at the top end of some of these speeds, but that had more to do with the accessories on the bike I was riding than the engine. There are several accessories for the Sport Chief that are also compatible with other bikes in the Chief lineup, including the Fox piggyback rear shocks (and an up-spec 24-click adjustable version), 10-inch risers, the quarter-fairing with a low (4 inch) or tall (9 inch) forward windscreen, an extended reach or reduced reach seat, the Chief Syndicate Seat and Syndicate Low Profile Passenger Backrest for two-up riding, and the Chief Pathfinder 5 3/4-inch adaptive LED headlight.

The bike I was riding had the 10-inch riser and the matching taller windscreen. While this riser indeed contributes to a look that Dan Peterson, PGA lead, called “meaner and badder,” it also led to a little less control than the 6-inch riser offers and less wind protection at higher speeds, even with the taller windscreen. However, even Peterson said the windscreens are “as much about style as they are protection,” so this was to be expected.

And from a comfort standpoint, I was happier to have the 10-inch riser. With my 32-inch inseam and the mid-mount foot controls, I felt a little cramped at times along the ride, even with the more open ergonomics.

When it came time to slow it down, the dual Brembo components up front put the “sport” into the Sport Chief with very little convincing required. And the standard ABS was definitely appreciated, especially when I came around a corner on that narrow, twisty side road and encountered a short stretch where the road surface went from asphalt to a patch of concrete that had been smoothed over by obvious years of seasonal high water. Fortunately, there was a sign warning of the upcoming slick crossing and I had already applied some braking, but I have a feeling if it weren’t for the ABS, I might’ve locked it up and dumped the bike off the short drop-off into the rocky riverbed … and felt like an idiot.

But once again, the Sport Chief did what a performance cruiser is meant to do: It performed. And as we wound our way back to the hotel at the end of the day, even after we had to plunge back into the stop-and-go for the last stretch, it was a performance that I didn’t want to end. I may not be the 25-40 age bracket West Coast customizer this bike is primarily geared toward, but that day, I sure felt like it.

The 2023 Indian Sport Chief comes in Black Smoke, Ruby Smoke, Spirit Blue Smoke, and Stealth Gray starting at $18,999.

2023 Indian Sport Chief Specs 

• Base Price: $18,999 
• Price as Tested: $19,929 
• Website: IndianMotorcycle.com 
• Warranty: 2 yrs, unltd. miles  
• Engine Type: Air-cooled, transverse 49-degree V-twin, OHV w/ 2 valves per cyl.   
• Displacement: 116 ci (1,890 cc) 
• Bore x Stroke: 103.2 x 113.0mm   
• Horsepower: 76 hp @ 4,200 rpm (rear-wheel dyno, 2021 Thunder Stroke 116)
• Torque: 106 lb-ft @ 2,000 rpm (rear-wheel dyno, 2021 Thunder Stroke 116) 
• Transmission: 6-speed, cable-actuated wet assist clutch  
• Final Drive: Belt   
• Wheelbase: 64.6 in. 
• Rake/Trail: 28 degrees/4.4 in.  
• Seat Height: 27 in.  
• Wet Weight: 685 lb
• Fuel Capacity: 4.0 gal.   

Previous to hearing about the Zovii Alarmed Grip Lock, I was apparently naive when it came to motorcycle theft. At home, I always lock both my ignition and fork. What I didn’t know is that fork locks are relatively easy to break, albeit noisily. The noisy part is helpful if your bike is parked at your house, but what if you’re not home or you’ve taken it on a ride? Thieves can also lift a bike into a vehicle in a matter of seconds and take it elsewhere to disable security measures.

To address these issues, Aerostich offers the Zovii Alarmed Grip Lock, a waterproof nylon-construction lock with a 10mm carbide-reinforced hardened steel locking pin and a built-in 120dB anti-theft security alarm. For comparison, most emergency responder sirens range from 110-129db.

The lock is lightweight and compact. It weighs 8.7 ounces, about half an ounce heavier than my iPhone and case, and at 6 x 2.25 inches, it fits easily in the interior pockets on my leather jacket.

See all of Rider‘s Parts & Accessories reviews here.

To activate the alarm, clamp the lock around either grip and front lever on your bike and depress the lock button to arm it. No key is required to activate.

Unfortunately, the width of the stock grips and levers on my Harley Heritage Softail doesn’t allow the device to clamp entirely shut, so I tried it on a friend’s BMW R 1200 RT. The Zovii clicked on his grip and lever easily. However, when we took the bike off the centerstand and rolled it, I was surprised the alarm didn’t make a peep.

Here’s where a slight design flaw exists. The instructions say the unit beeps twice when you unlock it; however, we discovered after tinkering with it that two beeps means the alarm is disabled, even when it’s locked shut. Seems to me when you clamp the unit together and push the lock in, you also want to activate the alarm. However, you must make sure you hear a single beep (followed about five seconds later by a longer tone). If you clamp it together, push the lock in, and get two quick beeps, you must unlock it with the key and push it in again to get the single beep indicating that the alarm is activated. Slightly annoying, but I can see certain circumstances where this might be a good feature, primarily if you’re carrying the Zovii around and have to clamp it shut to do so.

Once we figured out the beeps, a slight jostling of the handlebar was enough to sound the warning tones. If we kept messing with it, we got the whammy 120 decibels, which is disarmed by unlocking the unit. The warning tones are nice in case you accidentally bump the bike or are concerned about how gingerly you have to unlock it when it’s armed.

So besides the minor inconvenience of the single vs. double beep – and the much bigger inconvenience of not fitting my bike – the Zovii is an inexpensive product (just $60) that’s loud enough to send a would-be thief scurrying back to the shadows.

The Zovii Alarmed Grip Lock is available at the Aerostich website.

Thirty years after the fact, my older brother still likes to remind everyone that I managed to blow a full-ride scholarship my first semester at college even though I was supposedly “the brains of the family.” I think he enjoys telling the story because, at the time, he believed it was a flaw in my armor, a chip in the chrome plating. But even then, he must have thought I would do well for myself. Otherwise, he might not have made a deal that ultimately brought him to my doorstep with a Harley-Davidson Heritage Softail in the spring of 2018.

Along for the Ride, A Few Lengths Behind

In my office, I have a framed picture of my brother, age 5, and a chubby 2-year-old me. We’re wearing matching striped railroad overalls with thick leg cuffs, holding hands, and I have a big smile. I’ve always looked up to my brother. He was the epitome of cool – as soon as I knew what “cool” meant – even if he wanted nothing to do with his younger, dorky brother as we got older. If anything, that made him cooler.

Even in our teen years, when he was getting in trouble and I was getting straight A’s, I watched him admiringly from behind my textbooks, wishing I were as fearless and willing to take risks. 

A few years later, I ended up following him to the local college. With my grades, I could’ve gone somewhere more prestigious, but in my senior year of high school I had started hanging out with my brother and his friends. I was welcomed into his fold. We were friends again, like we hadn’t been since childhood.

I followed him onto the ski slopes – down mogul hills and over cliffs I probably shouldn’t have. When he got into motorcycles, starting with a Yamaha V-Max, I followed him there too. My first bike was a Honda V65 Magna. It’s a miracle I didn’t kill myself, but maybe I just didn’t have it long enough. I only owned the bike a little over a year before I had to sell it.

Here’s where the details get fuzzy. But it was college after all.

In my recollection, around this time my brother offered me a deal: Whoever could get himself a Harley first would then get the other brother one when he could reasonably afford it. The benefit of this deal was each of us eventually having at least one bike, either bought ourselves or gifted to us. But if we were both successful, we would each ultimately have two bikes.

When he bought a Sportster 1200 – and started doing pretty well in the business world – I got excited, especially as I was still screwing around somewhat aimlessly (this was after blowing that scholarship). Certainly my bike wouldn’t be far off.

Then he got a Fat Boy, and I thought, “Wait a minute.”

Turns out, my brother remembered the deal differently.

Deal or No Deal

By his own admission when I called to tell him about this article, my brother proceeded to customize probably five other Harleys.

Several years and motorcycles later, after a few beers, I asked him about it.

“That wasn’t the deal,” he said. “It was that we both get one for ourselves first and then one for the other brother.”

“What if one of the brothers never ended up being able to afford one for himself to begin with?” I said, still living paycheck to paycheck at the time.

We continued to debate the finer details of a deal made probably 15 years earlier. At the end of the night, I didn’t think I convinced him I was right – that kind of victory over an older brother is rare. But in 2018, after selling his business in a lucrative deal, he called me and said, “So, do you want a Jeep or a Harley? But whatever you pick, I get to choose the style.”

Who was I to argue?

I chose the Harley, and a month later, he showed up towing a 2004 Heritage Softail Classic with just over 8,000 miles. Talk about feeling like a kid again. Or at least that carefree 20-something-year-old. It was a dream – and a deal – come true.

Sometimes I wonder if my brother made that original deal because he felt bad that I had to sell my motorcycle. He says he just thought I would hit it big before him and things would’ve gone the other way. Funny how life works.

Whatever his reasons, he came through. These days he doesn’t ride anymore. After selling his business, he moved to Hawaii and traded his jeans and riding jacket for a wetsuit and fins. But after all these years, he is still the epitome of cool.

This article first appeared as the Exhaust Note feature in the October 2022 issue of Rider.

In his intro video on the Ride for Light Facebook page, former Army paratrooper Perry Steed says there has been something he has been unable to do for the last 10 years – an obstacle he hasn’t overcome.

“That obstacle has been going to collect one of my very best friend’s ashes,” he says with solemnity in his voice.

On April 24, 2012, Sgt. Kristopher Cool took his own life. Steed says he has known several people who died by suicide both before and since Cool, but his friend’s death has been “the worst one for so many reasons.”

I can relate to Steed’s struggles. I’ve never been any good with death, whether it was from old age, a tragic accident, or suicide. But it’s a little harder in the case of suicide because of the conflicting feelings for those left behind. In 2014, a good friend of mine who was a veteran took his own life, and I still get choked up thinking about the pain he must’ve been feeling and the times we haven’t been able to share since.

According to the website for Steed’s nonprofit, Operation: Purpose, veterans are 50% more likely to die from suicide than those who haven’t served, and what started as a mission to retrieve his friend’s ashes in Minnesota and take them to Fort Bragg to spread on Sicily Drop Zone became a “rally cry for support.” On May 20, Steed departed Wilmington, North Carolina, on a 2013 BMW R 1200 GS for a 48-state trip covering more than 15,000 miles. He returned home August 14.

“This ride is meant to provide Kristopher a final resting place,” the Operation: Purpose website states, “while also illuminating the issue of veterans’ mental health.”

When I first contacted Steed in June, he had made it to my neck of the woods in Utah.

“None of us can save the 22 that died yesterday,” he told me, referring to the Veterans Affairs statistic that 22 veterans take their own lives each day. “But if we can save one today, maybe they can help save two tomorrow. And then we can get this thing under control.”

More Than a Promise

Steed served as a forward observer in the Bravo 1st Battalion, 319th Field Artillery Regiment, 82nd Airborne Division from 1994 to 1997. He met Cool at the 82nd replacement. Steed was coming from jump school, and Cool was working the change of quarters desk. “We got to chitchatting about music, and we had similar tastes.”

The two men served together in the 82nd Airborne Division. Cool left the service a year before Steed, but the two stayed in contact over the years, including a stint when they lived in the same town.

“For a long time, he and I were pretty much inseparable.” Steed paused, and his next words were heavier. “Those were good times.”

In April 2012, Steed got a call he said he was expecting. “But I couldn’t hear it. My friend had died by suicide.”

The news hit him hard, and he formulated the plan to gather the ashes.

“But every time it came around for me to do it, I just couldn’t seem to make it happen.”

Steed said he struggled with his own instabilities for several years, and when he heard the news about Cool, he was trying to focus on his family.

“In fact, when I got the call, I was waiting for my wife to come home so we could go to childbirth class for our middle child,” he said. “So I focused on trying to be there for them. But I haven’t been there for myself.”

But the tragedies kept “building and building,” he said, including the deaths of more than two dozen family members and friends from various causes.

“They’re not all old people that had lived a full life. A lot of these people were cut down in their prime, and there have been a few suicides.”

He tried to keep motoring on, but everything came crashing down when his father-in-law died of cancer in 2019.

“He was the glue keeping me together,” Steed said, “because I had been focusing on getting him to his treatments, to his doctor’s appointments – just being there and doing things.”

Earlier in our interview, Steed said he had left from Fruita, Colorado, that morning, taking U.S. Route 191 and visiting Arches National Park, one of five national parks in Utah, and was talking to me from one of his father-in-law’s favorite spots in Mexican Hat, Utah, on U.S. Route 163.

“I’m actually sitting in the motel that he talked about for years and years, and wanting to come back,” he said. “I’m here to spread some of his ashes tonight. I carry him with me everywhere. I was raised by a good family, but when I met this man and asked if I could marry his daughter, he turned into my dad.”

Once his father-in-law died, “everything spiraled out of control for my family and me. And then Covid hit.”

He said the pandemic felt like a reset for a lot of people, himself included. He started using VA grief counseling tools and “put in a whole lot of work to get myself to where I could honor the promise I made when Kris passed away to go get his ashes.”

Before Christmas 2021, Steed spoke with his wife, who encouraged him to do it. The idea of the trip got him thinking about a friend in Oklahoma he had served with and who had been difficult to reach for quite a while.

“People don’t pop into my head for no reason,” he said. “So if someone pops into my head, there’s a higher calling for me to reach out to that person. I’m going to find them and I’m going to call them and I’m going to check on them.”

At that point, the purpose of the trip evolved.

“It’s me checking on battle buddies, guys I served with, friends of guys I served with, complete strangers.”

Over the course of reaching out to people, Steed reestablished a connection with a friend he served with who lives in San Luis Obispo, California.

“I told him, ‘Hey man, I’m getting ready to do this crazy thing. Hell, I might even come to California.’”

When Steed explained the impetus for his trip, the friend asked if Steed would also retrieve the ashes of his brother, Specialist David J. Howard.

“I haven’t physically seen this guy in California in over 20 years, and he still thinks enough of me to trust me with some of his brother’s remains knowing that I’m going to do exactly what I told him I would do and spread those ashes on Fort Bragg.”

The Pros and Cons of 15,000 Miles of Helmet Time

Steed has been riding motorcycles for about 13 years. While the 1200 GS is his chosen mount for this mission – a bike he said was a holdout for him, even with the rave reviews – it’s not the only bike in his stable. His first motorcycle was an ’84 BMW R 80 RT.

“I spent a ton of money getting that thing right,” he said. “I still have it.”

He also owns an ’81 Yamaha XS 650, an ’84 BMW R 100 RT, a ’74 Moto Guzzi Eldorado, and a 2015 Suzuki V-Strom 650XT. A full stable indeed.

Related Story: 2014 BMW R 1200 GS Adventure Review

After more than a decade in the saddle, he’s no stranger to helmet time, but the Ride for Light provided more of a challenge. For one, it was longer than any rides he had previously taken.

“I did a mini trip last summer,” he said. “I rode 2,500 miles, just around North Carolina and Virginia and those areas, to see if I could even handle being in my head that long.”

Steed originally planned on doing the trip solo, but he was joined along the way by various friends and family. When he set out from North Carolina, he had a friend who is also a veteran ride along with him for the first five days and then split off in Georgia, at which point Steed was joined by a cousin who rode with him about 1,100 miles to the Oklahoma state line.

“He’s been riding for a long time,” Steed said of the cousin, “but as far as long stretches in the saddle, that’s the longest he’s ever done.”

In addition to the distance, his cousin had also never ridden with anyone else, which provided Steed some opportunities for coaching and helped break up the monotony. But more than that, Steed was glad for the cousin to come along because he is a veteran as well.

“He downplays his military service, but he still signed a blank check. He’s a good dude.”

And Steed ultimately connected with that friend in Tulsa, Oklahoma. They rode together to Fort Sill, where Steed had completed basic and advanced individual training. The two rode about 700 miles together.

Besides the camaraderie, the other advantage to having someone else along is in case of a mishap. After riding the Tail of the Dragon in Tennessee with the friend who had been with him from the start, Steed separated a rib doing some off-roading on a forestry road. At that point in the trip, he had become used to having someone tag along. He felt like he could push himself, take a few more chances, and do a little more off-roading. When his friend split off, that changed.

“All that stuff was gone,” he said. “I had to come to grips with no guarantees of anybody doing it with me.”

When you get used to someone being around – even if just for a short time – it makes it harder when they’re gone, like when a good friend comes to visit and you feel a little bit lonely when they leave.

Or when a friend you’ve known for many years takes his own life.

In the late 1970s, psychiatrist Dr. Bessel Van Der Kolk started working with Vietnam veterans. Interestingly, his first patient would ride his Harley to bring himself down from moments of rage brought on by his trauma.

“The vibrations, speed, and danger of that ride helped him pull himself back together,” Van Der Kolk wrote in his 2014 book The Body Keeps the Score.

Van Der Kolk’s original work took place before post-traumatic stress disorder was an official diagnosis. These days, his contributions are considered pivotal in the field of trauma. He says one area of difficulty shared by those dealing with trauma is the inability to live in the moment. This capacity is the foundation of meditation and the somewhat recently coined term of “mindfulness.”

Personally, I appreciate the fact that when I’m on my bike, I’m only on my bike. Preoccupied with operating the machine, there isn’t much room to think about a troubling situation at work or home. The past and the future don’t matter nearly as much as the present moment.

For Steed, that wasn’t always the case on this trip.

“I’m stuck in my head and in my helmet all day,” he told me in June. “It’s like when you’ve got two kids who don’t get along, you lock them in a room together and say, ‘You guys are going to be getting along before you walk out of this room.’ That’s me, man. Some days my biggest fights are with myself.”

But this was a battle he was determined to win.

“Just today, I got in my head this morning,” he said. “I didn’t want to ride. I didn’t want to go anywhere. I was fumbling around getting ready, and I was awake almost all night for no reason.”

Steed said that as men, we try to find out the rationale, to get to the “why” for everything.

“But it’s just me,” he said. “It’s how I am. It’s how I’m wired. A success for me is going to be if I can get out of this trip being able to live in my head better.”

Steed said he could’ve chosen to fly to all these places to retrieve the ashes, maybe checked in on friends that way, “but I have things I also need to work out.”

“I need to be a better person for myself. I need to be a better husband for my wife, a better father for my children. I need to be a better friend, a better brother, a better son. With all these demons lurking over me, I’m out here trying to just pay all the kindness forward that I can, check on these folks, talk some stuff out with people I haven’t seen in a long time, and try to have some fun of my own.”

And there have been good times.

When you hit 48 states on a bike, you can’t list all the spots, but there are some eye-poppers worthy of mention. Although Utah is definitely beautiful, it was hot when he came through my home state, with temps in the triple digits. People in the Southwest like to say, “but it’s a dry heat,” to which Steed replied, “The only difference between a wet heat and dry heat is that with a dry heat, you don’t know you’re dying. … Even though this GS is a waterhead, it was still not liking it.”

I can’t imagine Amarillo, Texas, was much cooler, but he has some great pics and videos of his stop at the Cadillac Ranch on his Facebook page. He rode in some “hellacious storms” along the way, and he stuck his feet in the Gulf of Mexico – “with my riding boots on.” There was a spark in his voice even when he spoke of riding the Tail of the Dragon. After a couple days’ rest following his off-road crash and waiting out the rain, he rode it again. 

Then there are the people, of course. Beyond visiting friends and family, he’s met a slew of strangers.

After a mishap with his bike in Oklahoma, Steed stayed an extra day and got to meet some friends of his buddy who were also veterans, some of whom had pulled “some pretty serious duty.”

He also mentioned a 20-year military veteran who was particularly inspiring. Steed said the man, who had been hospitalized twice for mental issues, had been rudderless until he started volunteering in a VA nursing home after retiring from the service. 

After seeing the lack of attention paid to a couple of soldiers who had died under VA care, the man went to school to become a mortician and a funeral director, Steed said, with the mission of giving veterans the best burial they deserve.

“That is a fantastic thing to do for someone,” he said. “That really touched me. Because it’s not just Iraq and Afghanistan veterans I’m trying to help. A huge segment of our population that never received any kind of help were Vietnam vets.”

He said that, 50 years later, Vietnam veterans are still trying to figure out their place in this world.

“They were spit on or ridiculed when they got home. A lot of the veterans that end up committing suicide are from that theater of conflict and age demographic. Veterans often feel like they can’t help anybody and all they’re doing is hurting other people, so that’s why they do it.”

Steed said the people he’s met kept him going.

“Every positive reaction I get from telling people about what I’m doing makes me want to talk to somebody else,” he said. “This has been an exercise in me stretching my capabilities as far as reaching out to folks.”

Then there were the people waiting back home, namely his wife and three kids.

“If it wasn’t for my wife and children, there’s no way I could do this,” he said. “My wife has been the biggest cheerleader I’ve had.”

He said when he was having a difficult day, one that started with depression or anxiety, his wife was his support.

“It puts a lot of pressure on her, and I feel terrible about it sometimes, but if I’m having a rough day, I have to call her. She’s the one who has kept my head right for so long.”

Finally, he said he believes he’s getting help from those he’s lost over the last 10 years.

“Somebody’s watching out for me,” he said. “Of all the people I’ve buried that meant so much to me, I think they’re all having a huddle upstairs and saying, ‘Dude, we gotta get this guy straight.’”

The Road Keeps Rolling

In the 1994 movie Shawshank Redemption, two of the main characters reference a choice: Get busy living or get busy dying.

Steed’s mission will be over at some point. As of this writing, he has ridden 48 states and rolled back home to his family, and plans are in the works to spread the ashes of Cool and Howard at the Sicily Drop Point. But he’s determined not to make that the end of the road. This wasn’t just a trip about death; it’s about life.

Steed said that while he has been helped by the VA in many ways, he also recognizes its deficits. He has been researching various organizations that help veterans and is working on his 501(c)(3) status for Operation: Purpose, as well as accepting donations on his website.

“The real disconnect is placement for veterans in crisis and their families,” he said. “Who do you call? What do you do? Everyone knows the suicide hotline, but what happens after that? The goal is to create an education program for families and veterans.”

Steed knows some therapists willing to donate their time, and he is working with someone to apply for grants for Mental Health First Aid training, which helps someone who encounters another in a mental health crisis.

“You have skills available to talk them down, calm them down, and get them somewhere where they can think more rationally, or you can get them help without them harming themselves.”

Steed wants veterans to feel like they have another option besides ending their lives.

His long-term goal is to ultimately create a multiuse space similar to those seen on military installations, but in the immediate future, his first step is to create a database of key people in his area. He compared it to the military term “interlocking fields of fire.”

“I’ve got guys who are spread out in the greater Wilmington area, and it’s a network of people who know the veterans,” he said, adding that there are a lot of retired or ex-military in Wilmington, as well as several military bases in North Carolina in general. “We know a lot of people. We can be there for each other. We can be the ear and the shoulder and can offer redirection if that’s feasible.”

This support is what Operation: Purpose is all about.

“We may wake up tomorrow morning and the VA won’t be there anymore, but we still need to help each other. We didn’t have the VA when we were in [the service], but we had each other, and I need to reestablish that line of thinking, to bring the camaraderie and the unity and help each other get our dignity back and a hope for a better day.”

For more information, to make a donation, or to buy Operation: Purpose merchandise that supports veterans in crisis, visit OperationPurpose.net.

This article first appeared in the October issue of Rider. All photos courtesy of Perry Steed. Paul Dail joined the Rider staff as Associate Editor in June. This is his first story for the magazine. He also wrote the Exhaust Note for the October issue.

Resources:

If you or someone you know is in danger because of suicidal thoughts or actions, call 911 immediately. Suicide is an emergency that requires help by trained medical professionals and should always be treated seriously.

Nationwide suicide hotlines, 1-800-SUICIDE (1-800-784-2433) and 1-800-273-TALK (8255), have counselors available 24/7.

Other resources include Suicide.org, the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention and the American Association of Suicidology. All provide comprehensive information and help on the issue of suicide, from prevention to treatment to coping with loss.