
That claim was staked at the starter’s banquet in the Golden Nugget hotel on September 9th in Atlantic City, New Jersey, during an oppressively hot and muggy late Summer week – 95 degrees and 90% humidity – the hotel having chiseled off it’s ‘Trump’ name some years ago during a bankruptcy proceeding.

The Motorcycle Cannonball was initiated by Lonnie Isam Jr, as both an homage to the achievement of Erwin ‘Cannonball’ Baker’s cross-country record breaking sprees in the early part of the 20th Century, and a challenge to the many owners of early motorcycles who didn’t ride them all that much. Lonnie believed early machines were just as capable of crossing the country today – on paved roads rather than dirt tracks – as they were when new, and the first Cannonball was held in 2010, with a small cadre of riders on pre-1916 machines accepting the challenge. That first year was notoriously difficult, and an admirably bonding experience.

Nobody had tried such an incredibly long ride – 3500 miles – on such old machinery, and nobody really knew what to expect, or how the bikes would hold up to riding and average 250 miles/day on a rigorous schedule.It wasn’t the only evidence of Trump, or bankruptcy, we’d encounter on our third trip over backroads America. Three Cannonballs, this one likely to be my last, and for once totally bikeless, as my partner (with the bike) couldn’t take the 3 weeks off this year. My artistic and life partner Susan, after a crisis huddle, decided our MotoTintype project was too important to abandon, so we chose to follow the Cannonball as photographers, taking as many ‘wet plate’ photos as we could, and round out the hundreds of images we’d already shot on the prior 2 events, in order to make a book of the best images. Susan’s brother Scott drove my Sprinter to NYC, and thus began another epic road trip.

Not surprisingly, the tales of woe and late nights spent making repairs, every single night, made that 2010 event legendary. Most of the original 45 riders vowed never to do it again, and kept their promise! Some returned in 2012 though, especially as the rules were relaxed to include bikes up to 1930. That allowed me to naively enter the 2012 Cannonball with my 1928-framed Velocette Mk4 KTT. ‘The Mule’ had been my reliable rally machine for 12 years, taking in 7 week-long Velocette rallies, covering 250-mile days with aplomb. I’d already effectively double the Cannonball mileage on a similar daily schedule, so it seemed a plausible effort.

With no motorbike to concern us this year, Susan and I had an all-Sprinter Cannonball rally, and embraced the experience. Following the same route as the riders, we were blessed with the endlessly beautiful and fascinating landscape of the United States. The natural beauty of the East Coast forests, with their winding hills and hollows, lovely climbs were perfect motorcycle roads, dotted regularly with podunk villages and oddball eateries, brought a mix of awe at Nature and concern at Nurture. Signs supporting a blustering demagogue were inevitably mixed with Confederate flags in Pennsylvania, a clear repudiation of both the policies and race of our current president, in parts of the country left far behind the technology-based prosperity of my native California.

September 10th was a short ride of 158 miles through an endless series of New Jersey stoplights. The heat, and the constant stop-start, took a heavy toll on machinery and riders, and by the end of the day in York, Pennsylvania, 23 machines were hors de combat. Some refused to start in the heat, some broke parts, some seized, and one burned to the ground. John Pfeifer had built an extra-capacity fuel tank for his 1916 Harley-Davidson, and the weight of a full tank pressed down onto the rear cylinder’s rocker arm (atop the cylinder head on an F-head motor). It only took 80 miles or so for the rocker to wear through the metal, fuel to spill onto the magneto, and a great ball of flame to erupt. John watched his machine burn for 20 minutes before a fire truck arrived with a decent extinguisher. The first day was the worst day overall, culling the field quickly, and serving notice this wasn’t going to be an easy run.

On a bright note, Susan and I had a terrific meal at the Left Bank in York, the first of 3 excellent meals on our 17-day trip. We tried our hardest to eat well, searching daily for the ‘best restaurant in X’, and finding lists online which invariably included chains like Jack in the Box. It’s not difficult to draw conclusions about rural American culinary habits from this, and you’d be correct – America grows food for the world, but eats poorly in the very regions that food is grown. But we’d discovered that a couple of times already, and brought a sufficient stock of coffee and wine from home!

Readers of my2012 Cannonball reports on TheVintagent.com know I had terrible problems with two replacement camshafts I installed, the first lasting about 20 miles total, and the second, installed after many hours modification at a machine shop, lasted only a further 1000 miles. Those were blissful miles over the Rockies, I’ll confess, but the truth was, the Cannonball defeated my preparation. The Mule remains the only overhead-camshaft motorcycle to run the Cannonball, and several H-D riders suggested that a machine which couldn’t be fixed with a hammer had no place on a run like the Cannonball. Perhaps they’re correct.

Cris Sommer Simmons has ridden ‘Effie’, her 1915 Harley-Davidson, on 2 Cannonballs now, and it acquitted itself very well.










Related Posts
July 8, 2017
The Vintagent Trailers: Mancini, The Motorcycle Wizard
The mechanic that helped debut five of…
Thanks for sharing the pictures! Your loss of not riding is us readers’ gain in having wet plates (and digitals) to enjoy.