Old Irons 2024 - a report.

"I heard there may not even be a rally this year..."

"I heard they were changing location and that it's going to be an invitational..."

"nobody knows for sure yet, it might be last minute..."

These were the rumors surrounding this year's Old Irons rally, and the reason is simple. As I had mentioned last year, this rally is a small miracle and relies on a delicate equilibrium in order to exist. Well, now that equilibrium has been disrupted, possibly irreversibly so: what was once a remote and hard-to-reach plateau is now inundated with all manner of vehicles and the untold masses that bring them up there. We rode past what must have been thousands of people and at least forty or fifty camper vans, huge, white and bulbous, like a grotesque display of beached beluga whales.

The motorcycles weren't much better either, all new and plasticky, all electronic, all the same...

This place is finished and I have a sense the local authorities will have to step in and regulate access, or the next thing to make the headlines around here will be "national natural landmark suffers serious environmental degradation". 

But let's go back to the start of the day, when my dad aboard the Interstate, Lele on the Sportster and I on the Rising Star set off along the Salaria, all the way to Antrodoco and then up and over towards l'Aquila. A nice easy stroll along the sweeping turns and mellow scenery of the "sabina" and "reatino" areas. It was a hot day and I was being careful not to overdo it, but the BSA was turbine smooth all day. The route was also very easy with basically only one turn where to pay attention, and a bit of a slow crossing at l'Aquila; otherwise the most challenging part was precisely up on the Campo Imperatore plateau where by some miracle the Rising Star didn't shake itself apart and I got through with only a mild buzzing sensation in my arms. This little chopper has no right to be as tough as it actually is, it keeps leaving me astonished at how strong and capable it really is.

Once we got to the mountain kiosk, it quickly became apparent it would have been impossible to stop for food there, so we continued since there really wasn't far to go. The descent towards Rigopiano was peaceful and relatively quiet; of course all along the way we met many others on choppers and other cool contraptions, which all adds to the atmosphere.

From the road, the only giveaway that there was something going on was seeing maybe a dozen bikes parked along the edge, otherwise this is very secluded indeed. A short climb on loose limestone gravel gets you to the metaphorical gate onto a clearing, immediately flanked by the mountain, itself cloaked in impossibly tall beech trees.

What I noticed right away was that everyone looked, in a word, enthusiastic about being there. This location managed to recapture the grassroots essence of this rally, as well as breathe new life into it. We all wonder what the future may bring, but it looks promising!

It seemed easier to catch up with everyone and we soon had a large group of old friends eating, drinking and spouting absolute nonsense about motorcycles and chickens.

Even Witold managed to join at the last minute but by no means late, aboard his R100GSPD, that poor bike needs a substantial amount of work and attention... and yet remains unstoppable. As to the reason why that bike needs an overhaul, that will be the subject of future discussions, but better not speak of such things at a chopper rally, so off you go into the woods:

With no time to waste, we set up our tents and figured out some helpful tips for next year (get there early to find a nice spot, bring a good flashlight and possibly leave a couple of LED beacons on so you can find your tent in the dark. Bring lots of water...).

It's so much easier being there than way up at the top where you're completely exposed to the sun beating you over the head and the wind robbing you of body heat. Instead, everything is within a few steps, be it the kiosk (hardly ever a line), the beer stand or the bikes. Lots of really nice rides this year, from Panheads to Shovels, Duo-glides and Electra-glides in their original paint, period accessories and just the right amount of patina.

One machine I kept going back to was this R90/6, with the impressive period optional twin disc brakes, a sports seat (possibly a Giuliari?) and modern shock absorbers (Wilbers, I think), the original luggage and absolutely no fuss or fanfare, just an eminently practical tourer. I find this particular model to be very appealing, though I don't know it well enough to tell whether it would suit me. At any rate the handlebar is too narrow and the master cylinder for the front brake is something that gives me pause, having seen it on our own /7.

There's something about these Bavarian airheads... they're not cool, they're not particularly good-looking, powerful or agile; and yet they can't be ignored. 

The evening's festivities continued late into the night, long after we grilled the last skewers and drank the last beer.

I couldn't fall asleep but I must have eventually passed out and woke again as the first sunrays entered my tent. We all packed up with no particular hurry and already noticed one more surprise this new place had in store for us: the morning was nice. No hurry to get going, and a breakfast stand ready to serve decent coffee and sweet or savory home-cooked items.

One thing I did do was to tighten the steering stem nut on the Rising Star, which was way too loose, probably due to all the abuse along the Majella park at the end of June. I'll need to keep an eye on this.

a lengthy detour back home was a good opportunity to revisit some nice spots like Roccaraso and the higher part of the SS17 especially. We also hit torrential rain down towards Barrea and further along, not to mention horrendous heat. Although we had no real mechanical trouble, the starter motor on Lele's Sportster is giving us cause for concern, I think this will need a rebuild and possibly an overall check of the electrical system very very soon.

Black & Gold, never gets old.

Harley-Davidson's Aqua Pearl, an underrated and now rare, super color.

Thanks to Lele for his company, patience and photos.