50 Years Rolling

Two legs, two sports, two wheels.

Our bikes were lugged steel, glasses were Oakley. Color-coordinated and resting with Steve Smith at Old World Wisconsin sometime in 1989. Image: Jean Houillon

Conversations with lifelong motorcyclists typically begin as others explain how they got into motocross at age three or so, eventually graduating to street bikes in their late teens. Some played ball and stick sports, but many didn’t care for anything but twisting throttles.

Growing up the son of an athlete, coach and sports fan in Green Bay, Wisconsin during the ‘70s and ‘80s, it was inevitable that I followed suit. The Packers had lost their late-’60s Super Bowl luster, but Lambeau Field was always sold out. Soccer became my chosen sport after Dad volunteered to coach the fledgling Allouez Anchors when I was seven or so, and my dedication to one of the greatest sports on the planet carried through with a decent high school career on defense at Abbot Pennings and the University of Wisconsin-Whitewater until October 1985.

Left a bit rudderless after walking away from 12 years of soccer practice, training, travel, camaraderie and tournament play, bicycling came calling in the form of a co-worker named Steve Smith in late May 1988, when I was interning at Johnson Hill Press in Fort Atkinson, Wisconsin. A bicycle was transportation until that point, but Steve made it more alluring with the racing posters and jerseys hanging in his office. Physical exertion churning out RPMs drafting off Steve on his light blue Viner Italian road bike brought me into a higher plane of appreciation.

“Still don't know what I was waiting for
And my time was running wild, a million dead-end streets and
Every time I thought I'd got it made
It seemed the taste was not so sweet
So I turned myself to face me
But I've never caught a glimpse
Of how the others must see the faker
I'm much too fast to take that test”

“Changes” by David Bowie

In time my communications degree and love for history dovetailed into several journalism, retail and consulting gigs in the bicycle industry. Moving to Dayton, Ohio in August 1999 was hard because it meant leaving behind friends and family to go work for a Huffy subsidiary.

In the midst of all this I was drawn to motorcycles after years of watching On Any Sunday and The Great Escape with my family. I bought a ‘75 BMW R90/6 in June 2000, dipping my toe into the motorcycle world when I was 33.

Jean and I started our own bicycle brand and opened a boutique shop near the University of Dayton in January 2003, and my blue Beemer took a back seat to our entrepreneurial efforts and long hours.

Asked to write a regular column about running a family start-up for Bicycle Retailer & Industry News, I caught the attention of Tom Ritchey, a curious Steve Jobs-ian bicycle industry icon based in northern California. He invited me to Rwanda in late 2005, where we and others discovered the ‘Land of a Thousand Hills’ from the handlebars of our mountain bikes and launched Project Rwanda with pioneering American racer Jonathan Boyer (first American to race the Tour de France) in mid 2006.

Not content with working together on Project Rwanda’s initiatives remotely, Tom persisted on having me relocate my family and business to California. We loaded up a rented 26-foot yellow Penske truck (including my blue R90/6) in late May 2006 and rolled into La Honda, California three nights and 2,480 miles later. Plans fell apart with Tom, and fate stepped in when I became U.S. editor for bikeradar.com in February 2007, my first full-time journalism gig after years of freelancing for a multitude of international titles.

I won’t bore you with the details of the next eight years, but after 24 years in the bicycle industry and becoming editor-in-chief of a respected magazine, I woke up one day with no feeling or passion for cycling whatsoever. A self described bicycle evangelist who was once an executive director for a non-profit cycling group, board president for a national high school mountain biking organization, with all the important CEOs, CMOs and designers on speed dial, I decided – age 49 – to pivot, once again leaving behind the known for a much-needed restart.

The motorcycle had re-entered my life in late 2013 when I bought a 2004 Moto Guzzi California Stone for $3,400 with shekels made from trying to assist Greg LeMond in relaunching his brand. All the steep, twisty and challenging roads I had been riding on drop bar bikes near my Mountain View home were also ideal for motorcycles, and as I navigated my career pivot, a gig opened up to manage the popular Dainese company store in San Francisco, a glorious 44-mile ride north.

I celebrated my 50th birthday with Dainese staff in early May 2016, at the same time freelancing for Cycle World magazine. I met MotoGP world champion Nicky Hayden two months later, when he podiumed with Tom Sykes at WorldSBK Laguna Seca. A year later I rode my 2003 BMW R1150RT solo to Wisconsin, stopping overnight in Los Angeles, Flagstaff, Santa Fe, Colorado Springs and Lincoln, Nebraska before spending a week with family and friends (including bicycling buddy Steve Smith).

Jean had flown to Milwaukee, and joined me on the R1150RT for the return trip west. We started the Sunday Moto Club at Red Rock Coffee in late August 2017, a social riding club catering to newer riders, transplants, and folks looking for more than just a fast jaunt to the coast and back.

A whirlwind year contributing to Cycle World and The Vintagent brought me all over the U.S., covering custom motorcycle shows, attending MotoGP in Austin, the Sturgis Bike Rally in South Dakota, Bonneville Speed Week on the salt in Utah, and sharing an unforgettable journey on Harley’s with Henri from Milwaukee to northern California.

Me with rider/actor Zahn McClarnon minutes after rolling into the Buffalo Chip at the 2018 Sturgis Bike Rally. Image: Henri Boulanger

While we were on the salt supporting Alp Sungurtekin, Jean was back home taking her motorcycle training course at Mission College. Friends like Jenna Stellar had nudged her in that direction, and since scoring her M1 Jean’s owned five bikes, settling on a 2020 Triumph Bonneville Speedmaster while recently acquiring a 1962 BMW R60/2 from Scottie Sharpe. I’ve lost track of how many bikes I’ve bought and sold since December 2013, but I’m glad that my ‘04 Moto Guzzi California Stone now belongs to Henri, my ‘Motorcycles Are Drugs’ partner and podcast co-host.

Twenty years after working my first corporate job, I decided it was time to try again, this time with FOX (the suspension company). It started off nicely, but over time new leadership, a pandemic, and an avalanche of misguided alphabet soup HR initiatives forced my hand to walk away for good after nearly four years in a position that paid me more than I’ll probably ever make again.

Feels good to be my own man again, this time building a family business centered around creativity, storytelling and adventure.

There’s been some early talk of Henri and I hitting the road again this summer, possibly heading east through Nevada, Utah, and Colorado before doubling back home through New Mexico. My nearly 57-year-old mind and body is strong, limber, and relaxed. Cycling is something I do for fitness, while motorcycling is something I now realize has been my destiny all along. The machinery, people, and places make it an ideal fit for what I dig in 2023, just like soccer was my main jam as a young athlete back in 1973.

---

David Bowie, Los Angeles 1974. Image: Steve Schapiro

There have been many fantastic evolutionary examples that have impacted my life decisions. It’s no surprise I’ve been a David Bowie fan since his Ziggy Stardust days, right around the same time I suited up to play soccer on a cold northeastern Wisconsin grass field with other wide-eyed kids.