You know that little boy who stares at you, mouth agape, as you ride by? That was me, John Flores, thirty-plus years ago. There was something about two-wheeled travel that always fascinated me, and for years I channeled that fascination into bicycling. I’ve raced bicycles, as well as riding through Colorado, from Oakland to Los Angeles along the Pacific Coast Highway, across the mountains of Vermont and New Hampshire, and along the mountain bike trails of Southern Utah and West Virginia.
But even back then, I was buying motorcycle magazines well before I got my first motorcycle in the mid-90s: a late 80s Honda Hawk GT. I’ve been riding ever since. For me, there’s no better way to see the world than from the seat of a motorcycle. Nothing else immerses you into the landscape, while allowing you to cover significant terrain.
Several years ago I merged two of my passions, motorcycles and photography, when I became a contributor to RoadRUNNER. I feel at times, the luckiest man alive, as I’ve been able to ride to places of unbelievable beauty and take photos. It’s a challenge sometimes, deciding when to let the flowing asphalt carry me away and when to stop, smell, and photograph the roses. But it’s a challenge I relish, and I try to bring a fresh eye and perspective to each of my stories.
My favorite road? There are so many to choose! Mountain passes in the Alps, along the California Coast, in the jungles of the Philippines. But one that will remain with me long after I’ve been rolled into the old-age home is Turn 7 at BeaveRun’s North Track. It’s a blind, downhill, off-camber right. You’ve got to turn hard to the right at the top of the hill, well before you can actually see where the road goes, and then the world falls away as you descend. Get it perfect with your knee puck kissing the asphalt, and you’ll feel like you are flying. Get it wrong and you’ll be back in the pits, picking clumps of dirt and grass from your fairing. Trust me, I’ve done both.