Our Slimey, 2-wheeled rite of Spring

Shows Wisconsin, man & machine at their Springtime best!

Blaska has ridden motorcycles on the Pacific Coast Highway 1, through the streets of San Francisco to the wine country of Sonoma and under Sequoia trees. Hugged Canada’s north shore of Lake Superior where only French is spoken. Skirted the Gulf Coast of Texas; traveled the dusty road from Tombstone to Tucson. Drove straight from Madison through rush hour, pouring rain in Indianapolis to Smoky Mountain National Park. Scraped the floorboards of the Harley Davidson Softail Slim 11 times each way on the infamous Tail of the Dragon — 318 curves in 11 miles in North Carolina — in the rain. Ridden solo and in a herd.

At that, your irascible bloggeur takes a backseat to his riding buddy Judge Mark Frankel, who has invaded Sturgis, the Canadian Rockies, Europe and Morocco.(Blaska did rent a motor scooter in Switzerland once.)

Southwest Wisconsin holds up to all of them. Give me wooded green hills rather than cold stony mountains, streams and rivers, red barns (and the increasingly rare sight of cows at pasture). Interrupt at decent intervals with small towns and country taverns, all along county roads posted with signs bearing curlicue arrows. (The sign of “Wonder & Delight Ahead.”) Stir in the occasional rock outcropping and a farmer working his fields; promise a beer at the end of the drive and we’re good.

Such is what approaches a compulsory holy day of observance for your Head Groundskeeper: The Slimey Crud. (Yes, that is how it is spelled.) First Sundays of May and October. The weather 05-05-24 could not have been more perfecter. With Judge Frankel, Steve Witherspoon, and Earl Kielley, started the morning from the west side of Madison WI due west on Mineral Point Road to unincorporated Pine Bluff, home to beautiful St. Mary‘s Church, two taverns and a baseball diamond.

 People watching and machines on show

What to our goggled eyes did we see but possibly 1,500 bikes — not one like another. And their riders just as distinctive. Harleys, Indians, Honda Gold Wings, German BMWs, Italian Ducatis, and British Triumphs. Spotted a classic Norton and a Spanish-made Bultaco. This year’s award for most distinctive bikes — and independent sense of humor — belongs to a group of Madison kids who call themselves the Driftless Anchors. They etched their presence in colored chalk in front of their most distinctive bikes — the Austrian-made Puch (pronounced “poosh”) Maxi moped. Manufactured in the 1970s and ‘80s. Motivated by a 49cc engine compared to my Harley Davidson’s 1690 (103 cubic inches). The little two-strokers (mix oil and gas) get 120 miles to the gallon! Saw not one electric bike!

Your intrepid reporter asked how many are the Driftless Anchors. One of them did an on-the-spot head count and answered “three.”

Like emerging cicadas, but louder, Slimey Crudders begin heading out around noon for Leland, 44 miles northwest. Each group on its own schedule and unique itinerary. As usual, Blaska plotted out a dazzling route on a sheet of paper (P north to Lodi Road, W to Brereton, to Lueth, S on Hwy Y to Mack Road …) but quickly lost his way. The route we traveled, however bewildering, was likely just as beautiful. Crab apple trees in full flower adorned manicured farmsteads, old cut-stone barns, and pioneer churches. We were in no hurry.

We must be in the front row!

Miraculously, found an empty table at the front window of Sprecher’s tavern in Leland, looking across the street to Schelter’s tavern and the mass of motorcycles and riders from which to enjoy a barley pop. (Except for Earl, who drank tea. The barkeep ignored my command to enliven his beverage with a squirt of vodka.) We lost the judge back in Pine Bluff; he had locked his helmet to the bike but forgot the key. We hear he is a very erudite lawyer.

Leland also has a church, this one Lutheran. No baseball diamond but a skeet shooting range. And a millpond. 

Blaska’s Bottom Line: Somehow, all those big honking motorcycles (never mind the Puchs) manage to negotiate cheek-by-jowl pedestrians and criss crossing bikes without incident. Garmin GPS is over-rated, anyway.

What is YOUR annual must-do?