Hello and welcome to my web site,

My name is George Barnes.  I live in the small town of Rifle in the western slope area of Colorado.  I was born in 1954, so I am 47 as I write this.  I have been married for almost 21 years and have three children.  My oldest, Jeff, is in the US Navy, studying the workings of nuclear reactors in Goose Creek, South Carolina.  My other son, Craig, and my daughter, Laura, are both in high school. I became a power lineman for the Department of Water and Power in Los Angles when I was 21.  However, I have spent most of my adult life self-employed as a wood flooring contractor.  I spent a few months as general manager of a motorcycle shop, and I now make my living as the maintenance manager of a 14-acre commercial greenhouse.

This web site is dedicated to my obsession with motorcycle riding.  And, specifically, with long distance, endurance riding.  I put the word riding in bold type because, unlike many motorcycle owners, it’s the riding that I enjoy the most.

My dad taught me to ride when I was nine years old.  At the time he was an officer with the Los Angeles Police Department.  Though he was in a patrol car then, he spent many years on the “motor squad” as the motorcycle officers were called.  While riding motors he spent some time on the drill team, a group of riders who rode intricate, precision maneuvers on their bikes at shows and parades.  He also served as a clown on the drill team.  Though the memories are vague, it still brings a smile to my face when I visualize him darting around the big Harleys on his little mini-bike, all dressed out in clown regalia.

I moved from riding a Cushman Trailmaster when I was nine through a series of step-through Hondas, both 50 cc & 90 cc models, to a Honda 125 twin when I was 14.  It was the first bike I paid for with my own money.  At the time we were living in the resort community of June Lake on the eastern slope of the High Sierras in California.  My mom and dad owned a small country store in the mountains.  I would work at the store in the morning, then head out on the Honda and ride the fire roads and mine trails for hours on end.  I pretty much rode alone and soon developed a love for the solitude I experienced.  I also developed a sense of individuality that has served me to this day.

My motorcycles got bigger as I did.  I moved up to a Honda 350 when my family moved to the Los Angeles area when I was 16.  My junior year in high school I rode the 350 back up to Bishop, a town near June Lake, to visit with friends.  It was my first “endurance” ride.  When I got home I told my dad of the terrible winds that almost blew me off the road and of the miserable heat of the Mojave Desert and how badly my butt and arms hurt, (the bike had no fairing or windshield).  He quietly asked, “Would you do it again?”.  “In a minute” was my answer.  I guess I was hooked on long distance riding.

I moved up to a Triumph 650 a year or so later.  It was the Tiger model, the one with one carburetor.  As I was riding it up to a friend’s house in San Jose I melted a hole in one of the pistons.  It was running too lean and I had a spark plug with the wrong heat range.  My dad told me, “If you’re going to do these long rides, you need a more suitable bike”.   I wholeheartedly agreed.

Soon, I was the proud owner of a 1972 Moto Guzzi Eldorado Police Special.  I rode it for a couple of years, traveling all over California and the adjacent states.

In 1973 I established a relationship with Bob Blair, the West Coast distributor for Moto Guzzi.  Bob asked me to put miles on brand new police bikes so that they could do the 1,000-mile service before delivering the bikes to the departments.  It was tough work, but someone had to do it!  The downside was that I had to get back on my old Eldorado after taking the new model bikes back to Bob.

In 1975 I managed to buy a brand new Moto Guzzi T3 Police Special.  It had a frame mounted fairing and driving lights where the red lights should have been.  Over the next 15 years I put over 150,000 miles on that ol’ Guzzi, riding throughout the western states and even into Mexico and Canada. I rode more California 1000 rallies and other organized events that I care to remember.

I married Donna, my wife, in 1980.  In ’82, Jeff was born.  A few years later I decided to get back into dirt riding, though I had never left it entirely.  I joined a desert racing club, the Shamrocks, and began to race in the Mojave Desert on a 500 cc Maico.  My greatest accomplishment was finishing fifth in the Veterans Novice class in the final Barstow to Las Vegas race held in 1989.  The class was comprised of over 400 riders, so I was duly proud of my accomplishment.

In 1990 I retired the Guzzi and I bought a BMW K100LT.  I set it up for endurance riding, adding driving lights and, eventually, a spare gas tank, CB radio and intercom system.  I continued to ride organized endurance rallies, including the Saddlesore and Bun Burner, hosted by the CMTA.  In 1993 I rode my first “competitive” rally, the California 1000 in 24.  I had a blast. The rally combined the ease and pleasure of road riding with the competitive aspects of my desert racing years.

That same year, 1993, I rode the Bite the Bullet, (see story elsewhere on this web site).  After getting back to Southern California a couple of friends suggested I “was ready” to ride the Iron Butt.  I knew Ron Major, the winner of the 1991 Iron Butt, and was curious about the rally, but I just couldn’t pull it off for that year.

In 1994 my family and I moved to Carbondale, a town up the road from Rifle. I spent that year setting up my wood flooring business and getting us moved into a suitable home.  I did very little riding that year.  I was able to get over to the BMW Owner’s club National Rally in Durango where I took the Motorcycle Safety Foundation’s Experienced Rider Course.

In ’95 I rode the California 1+1, which was formerly the 1000 in 24.  I did very well on the first day, having earned the most points and, therefore, the lead.  However, I got greedy on day 2 and went for one too many bonuses, arriving 10 minutes late to the finish, resulting in a DNF, (did not finish), for the entire rally.

1996 was a better year.  I won the Cal 1 + 1, as well as the Utah 1088.  I placed second in the Cal 24 and 4^th in the Miles Inc. rally put on by Reno BMW.

In 1997 I rode the Iron Butt.  I was in second place half way through when my bike broke down, (see story elsewhere).  It was a very depressing event, but one I learned from. The highlight of ’97 was going to Laguna Seca Raceway in California and taking Reg Pridmore’s CLASS course.  It was a lot of fun and taught me a great deal.

In 1999 I won the Iron Butt, on the same bike that let me down in ’97, and in the process set a world record by riding 13,346 miles in the eleven days.  The most difficult leg of the ride was the final one when I rode from St. Augustine, Florida, up I-95 to White Plains, New York, then across to Rugby, North Dakota, before finally riding back to the finish in Ojai, California.

I rode the 2001 Iron Butt, (see article elsewhere on this site).  A string of minor problems and instances of bad luck on the ride back from Alaska caused me to be late to the finish, which dropped me from a first place position to 82^nd.  However, I managed to best my earlier mileage record by 11 miles, (one per day), totaling 13,357 miles.  The ride to Prudhoe Bay, Alaska, was undoubtedly the highlight of that trip.

A few weeks after getting home from the event, I had a fire at my home.  My motorcycle, along with all of my riding gear and most of my family’s possessions, was destroyed.  We were out of the house for eleven months while it was being repaired.  That, and being laid off from my job when the facility I worked at closed in October of 2002, made it impossible for me to ride the 2003 Iron Butt.

It is now late in 2004 and I am preparing to ride the Iron Butt next year, which starts on August 22^nd in Denver, Colorado.  Finally, I get to ride a rally that I don’t need to ride a thousand miles just to get to the start, (and then home again).

George Barnes