AZ Rider Magazine is proud to announce the addition of  contributing writer, Chad Hensiak – AKA Biker Chad. In addition to being a published writer and photographer, Chad has worked as a mechanic, product tester, technical adviser, motorcycle sales associate,  and parts consultant. For the past several years, Chad has traveled across the country attending motorcycle rallies, and assisting fellow bikers with motorcycle accessories. He currently works as a motorcycle mechanic at the Road Guardians Compound in Big Bend, Wisconsin.

Chad lives by the mantra, ‘Ride to Live, and Live to Ride, which he says is more than just a patch on his vest.

“My Harley is my life and my income”, says Chad.  He also considers his bike to be his therapist. “You never see a motorcycle parked outside of a shrink’s office, unless it is the shrink’s bike”.

Chad will be submitting articles on topics ranging from motorcycle maintenance and repair, to road safety and biker camaraderie. He offers words of advice to his fellow bikers, which include always lending a hand to others.

“In this modern age we all to easily assume that that biker you just passed on the side of the road has a cell phone or a roadside assistance coming. Well, what if he or she doesn’t?”  Asks Chad. ”It only takes a minute of your time to stop and make sure they are o.k.  Who knows you may make a new lifelong friend just for checking.  It is time for all of us on two wheels to band together, put our differences aside  and look at what we have in common..  being in the wind”.

Chad is a firm believer that we gain power through knowledge, and hopes to help educate by offering  technical tidbits. By doing so, he hopes to be able to help the readers put a smarter face to the wind the next time they ride.

“Ride Smart”, he says in his tagline.

We look forward to seeing Chad on the road, and on AZ Rider Magazine.

PRESS RELEASE:  Big  Bend,  Wisconsin  –  January  14,  2012 

“A  Motorcyclist’s  Community”.  The  Road  Guardians  Compound  announces  the  launch  of  their  new  website  that  aids  in  the  distinction  between  the  National  Road  Guardians  Member  Program  and  the  physical  location  highlighting  the  many  activities  that  are  happening  at  “The  Compound”. 

The  Compound  is  home  to: 

Accident  Scene  Management,  Inc.  --‐  A  Non--‐Profit  organization  established  in  1996  to  reduce  injuries  and  fatalities  to  motorcyclists  through  education. 

Road  Guardians –  A  member  program  of  Accident  Scene  Management,  Inc.  that  allows  motorcyclists  to  become  part  of  our  National  effort  to  achieve  our  mission  while  supporting  the  many  comprehensive  efforts  of  other  to  do  the  same.  We  believe  that  life  long  learning  is  the  key  to  becoming  a  “Better  Biker”. 

SOS,  LLC  – A  for  profit  company  that  provides  education  and  supplies  that  support  that  education  from  CPR  and  Trauma  care  to  personal  defense  &  motorcycle  Maintenance  –  SOS  puts  safety  into  action.  SOS  also  owns  the  37  year  old  reflective  vest  brand  “Conspicuity”.  Conspicuity  Reflective  products  are  made  in  the  USA  with  all  USA  materials  and  are  the  highest  quality  available  for  motorcyclists. 

Of  course  we  have  to  have  a  little  fun  too  so  we  have  a  great  line  of  “human  accessories”.  We  have  a  sewing  area,  stage,  garage  w/mechanic,  kitchen  and  all  of  the  social  tools  to  make  our  “Compound”  a  great  place  to  visit. 

We  invite  you  stay  in  touch  by  visiting  our  website  and  signing  up  for  event  updates  and  blog  updates  as  Biker  Chad  blogs  about  tech tips  and  Tony  Pan  muses  in  the  garage  about  whatever  is  on  his  mind  in  “Pansophic  Dribble”.  Visit  us  at  http://www.rgcompound.com/.

Contact  Information:

Road  Guardians

W231  S8759  Wynn  Dr.

Big  Bend,  WI  53103

Vicki  Sanfelipo

Email:  This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it

Phone:  262-706-3278

Bikers

I searched for a name for this story for a long time… and this was the best I could do.  This is a story about “going local” Alpha Biker style.  I have to remind folks, this is just another day in the life.  It’s amazing what does are opened when you are genuine, have a propensity for smiling, and walk your talk.  I travel quite a bit.  Nobody is surprised when I say this.  What does tend to surprise folks is the situations that present themselves on such expeditions.  Read and ride on…

A few years back my girl at the time had to spend the last remaining months of her mom’s life taking care of her.  They were a family of limited means, and as the oldest daughter, she came forward to do the tasks required.  I would have expected no less.  It is a natural order that I am familiar with.  People live, people die, people say good-bye, or not.  I will circle back on this aspect of the story later.

At the time I was living in New Hampshire.  At the time she was in South Carolina.  It was about 1,100 miles door to door, or about 2/3 of the way to Sturgis.  Note, I also measure bills in tanks of gas or cases of beer, but I digress.  I rode down to spend some time with her in the Spring.  I arrived and spent some time with her family, and like any length time I spend on the road, once I stop, I am like a junky who needs to get back on, just for a quick taste, or I get antsy.  This day was one of those days.  I tell my girl that I am going for a putt one morning and will be back in the evening.  The walls were closing in and I was jonesing for my fix.

I cruise the Maggie Valley area and circle back around in a little town just north of Spartanburg.  The bike is running a little rough and according to my “maintenance journal” the plugs hadn’t been changed in exactly… let me see… a long fuckin’ time.  I pull the plugs, and “the journal” confirms my suspicions.  I remember seeing an independent bike shop down a side street of this small town during my last visit so I track down this place again and see if they have what I need.

As I pull up to the front of the shop, I notice that the door is propped open, so I walk in.  Nobody appears to be here.  As I look around, I feel like I am in an old barn or maybe a museum.  Dust covered Harleys from all eras are here in what I would call the “showroom” that is to the left of me.  The uneven wooden floor of the show room gives way to the “shop” in the back.  The whole place is probably 20 feet wide and maybe 50 feet long.  The front door has a back door directly 20 feet across from it that also is open and appears to lead into some kind of outdoor fenced in courtyard.  The parts counter to the right has the most eclectic collection of stuff I have ever seen.  I am not sure if they are for sale, or simply for show awaiting pickup by the Smithsonian.  In front of the parts counter is a row of theatre seats from an era long gone by.  The smell of fuel, oil, and old metal hangs in the air.  I breathe deep and take it all in.

“Y’all sure are a long way from home!”, I hear directly behind me.  I must have jumped two feet in the air when I heard this bellowed behind me.  I am usually pretty good about being aware of my surroundings, but this place had me lost in thought.  The owner, a bald man in his mid 50’s was now smiling at me as he walked back around the parts counter.  “What can I do you for?” he asked.   “How about a new pair of skivvies and a set of spark plugs”, I respond.  We both have a good laugh.

“I saw your plate on the way in, the spark plugs for your bike are usually $9, but where you are so far from home, give me $8 and we will call it a deal.”  I give him my $8 and am a little in shock by what I just heard, don’t things usually work the other way?  “You want a beer?”, he asks.  “Ummmm, sure, thanks”.  He digs into a fridge under the counter and pulls out two Busch lights.  We crack them open and begin talking about my trip and his shop as I get the full tour… and a couple more beers.

The tour ends at the back door to the shop that leads out into the “courtyard”.  We grab a couple more beers and walk out into the steamy South Carolina Spring late afternoon air.  We pop a squat at what appears to be an old Friendly’s Ice Cream booth that is situated in the middle of the courtyard.  There is a hole drilled in the middle of the table and a dilapidated beach umbrella now adorns this fine piece of patio furniture.  The courtyard is about the same size as the shop.  It is a mix of uneven gravel and earth fenced in by old billboard signs, plywood, and barbed wire.  Over on one side is an old shed.  Beside the door to the shop is another refrigerator.   There is an assortment of random parts and things back here.  There are a couple more sets of “patio furniture”, tractor pieces, bikes and bike parts, cars and car parts, appliances, and an old man in his late 70’s with thick John Lennon style glasses, salt & pepper hair down to his waste, sitting with his legs crossed over at one of the other tables, observing us, while taking a drag on his cigarette.  Apparently he had been watching me since I first arrived at the shop. “Hey there.” I say.  I get a head nod back.

Oddly enough, he goes by “Preacher”.

“What brings y’all here”, asks Preacher.

“I was out for a putt and needed some plugs”, I reply.

“Did ya hear that Bob, he said he went for a putt”.   “Enough of this talk, we need a safety meeting.”

It turns out a “safety meeting” means getting one’s head straight in the metal shed in the back which was home to a family of black snakes and assorted parts, motorcycle and otherwise.  Preacher and I share a toke and make our way back to the umbrella adorned Friendly’s booth.  I am feeling pretty righteous at this point.  Here I am in Podunk, SC enjoying the 130% afternoon humidity with two new found friends who sold me discounted spark plugs and got my perspective adjusted all because I respectfully walked in the door.

We share stories of our rides and I give them some more context to just why I was passing through this neck of the woods at this time.  The front door to the shop swings open and in walk two younger dudes that look like that just came back from a Skynyrd concert.  After some hearty hellos one of them heads back inside for more beer.  While he is in there, Bob, the shop owner, yells inside “check and see if any of that stuff is still left in the freezer”.  Now, at this point, my head wasn’t locked down on my shoulders all that tight, but I had a pretty good idea of what was coming next.  With a full mason jar of clear liquid in one hand and three beers in the other, one of the younger dudes comes back into the courtyard.

I am thinking to myself, Christ, I came in here for a couple of spark plugs, and I’m gonna end up sleepin’ on this fuckin’ picnic table.   The shine is very smooth.  Unbeknownst to me, this county in South Carolina is actually home to an annual moonshine festival.  No shit!  I saw the signs for it later in my trip.  They unapologetically host this event without any interference from the law… as it should be… but I digress.

After another hour of lie swappin’ it was time for me to move on while I could still semi-function.  I had few miles to ride and it was time to roll the dice.  I promised to return with some gifts of my own in the near future.  That promise was kept.

This experience was one of true bike brotherhood.  You hear about it, but get caught up in the thought pattern of society that tells you distrust and paranoia are the rule.  Well, it isn’t the fuckin’ rule.  At least, it is not in the world that I choose to live.  Remember that life is a mirror.  What you put out is what you will receive.  Step forward with sincerity, respect, and a smile and the same will be shown to you.  For those in my world reading this story, those statements are obvious conclusions and a way of life.  It is amazing what doors and life experiences are there for you when you are open to receiving them.

Amen.

~ Preacher Chuck D.