1. CruiserCustomizing Turns 5 Years Old

Party-goers parked their rides in front of the Cruiser Customizing Showroom.

Business partners, employees, and customers were invited to the 5th Anniversary Party.

Greetings Cruisers,

Cruiser Customizing’s Fifth Anniversary Celebration drew a large crowd of members, fellow riders and associates at our headquarters in Livermore, CA on August 10th, 2006. It was a gala and gourmet event. We do like spending time with our customers, and many local customers attended the event. Meet us at our next event in our showroom. Or read below to see our tour schedule: we may be at a biker gathering near you. As riders, we’ve got much to live for and a lot to celebrate together.

From all of us at Cruiser Customizing, a very special thanks to all of you, our members, for the opportunity to serve you over the past five years. We’re looking forward to the years ahead for continued growth based upon customer service and member satisfaction.

Remember, if we do it right, please tell a friend. If we fall short of your expectations, please tell us.

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2. More Travels with Soncho

Soncho writes, “Peggy looks good and I don’t. No wonder people stare. You’ll have to pay for the photos that make me look good.”

U be U and I be me and Soncho be Soncho.

Once again we catch up with the intrepid traveler Soncho aboard his Honda Spirit 750 “one day closer to whatever it is he wants to get closer to…” Now here’s Soncho in his own words:

Hola Amigos,

U be U and I be me, and no, Amigos, it don’t take much for me to make a road trip. Spin like a top and what direction I stop, it’s good enough for me. As long as it doesn’t point to Williams, AZ since the last trip there scored me an overnighter at the crossbar Hilton. Fortunately, this time the spin points me towards Payson, AZ, one hundred miles north of Phoenix in the rim country. Sounds good to me since we’re having a cold snap in Phoenix. It’s down to a chilling 102-104.

I’ve asked an old friend, Peggy, to tag along; a real awakening for her. How do I describe Peggy? After all, she’s truly not some biker chick, but don’t worry, Amigos, I’m working on her. Peggy’s more like an ex-model, if there is such a thing. They’re gorgeous at any age and Peggy is still a piece of work. Peggy and I go way back. Way back to my place, then a few turns in the road and twenty years later we met at the crossroads of Blistering Boulevard and Scathing Way here in Phoenix.

Peggy is the class act that makes me look like Bulk Rate. We get many stares since we’re both total opposites and I still wonder what the hell she’s doing with me. Brunette Barbie hanging with Scooter Trash Ken. The best part is she’s a real trooper who’s not afraid to break a nail and we really do have fun together.

Hopping on my scoot, we don’t get five miles before a rock bounces off some cement truck and flies right at us. It makes its way between my mirror and the trusty little windshield that has protected my ass plenty of times before except this one. The sucker hits my left arm, puts a divot in it, bounces up and grazes Peggy’s left ear. Man, we aren’t even out of the hood and we’re already dodging bullets. Think this is an omen? Damien, you little punk, I’ll get you!

In the blowing wind red starts crawling up my arm and it doesn’t look good for some biker to have blood splattered all over his woman (even if she isn’t my woman). So I pull into a gas station for repairs. Remember, we’re riding a Honda Shadow Spirit 750 and repairs aren’t mechanical.

The Yah-Tee-Hey behind the counter points me to the bathroom where I do the blood letting ritual. When I return from the procedure she hands me a band-aid and holds out a bag so as to not touch anything. I find myself explaining to her that my blood is very rare. It’s hard to find blood type 86 proof at 11 am. Sure, it gets a laugh, but she still won’t touch me.

Heading out towards Globe, Peggy and I and stop for a beer when the 86-proof blood is in danger of dropping to 79. I hate it when I hit highs and lows; a nice balance is good. For every beer and shot of tequila I had, Peggy would out do me with an iced tea and water back. As usual in Globe, nobody is there. Globe is a place where everybody lives but nobody goes.

We find ourselves heading towards Roosevelt Lake and Payson. I’m hoping to someday build a biker trash, loser, misfit bar near the lake or in Payson, if the right investors come forward. The Rim Country has every number in the demographic formula: roads that are great for riding and have gorgeous scenery.

On the road towards Payson, poor Peggy is hanging on for dear life and the last thing I wanted was to see her doing cartwheels on the road behind me because it’s not as fun as it sounds. Especially with her blood-splattered white tee shirt. How does one ‘splain that to The Man except to say, “Man, I didn’t do it!” Would that get me eight to ten for aggravated something? Anyway, we finally make it to Payson.

Payson knows when hell is burning in the valley. They might not have to turn on the air conditioning, but they know how to melt the number off your credit card. Rooms that I wouldn’t let my dog stay in go from $85 to $127 with AC, running water and roof extra. Somehow the doorknob deposit got to me. It’s not that I’m cheap, but I tend to show my “Exit Only” tattoo on my rear when someone tries to stick it to me.

We end up at a 2 ½ star shack for $92, in a second story room so I can’t park my scoot next to the bed, which makes me mad. We’re paying $11 an hour to sleep and I can’t even do that since my second favorite extension is out in the parking lot. After screwing us, the hotel gives us a “Come and Get Screwed” coupon for the local casino. No need for church, we’ll be donating plenty.

In the room, Peggy takes one look at the bed…not me, not the room, not the TV, and spends the next two hours checking her eyelids for light leaks. Some day we’ll all take that Great Ride to the hereafter, and I get a glimpse of what she will look like in the coffin. Arms folded across the chest and very content. Thank God it would not be tonight.

I wake up Sleeping Beauty and after a little fluffing and buffing, we’re heading to the casino. After a great conversation with some Aussies from down under, we wind up in the poker room. This is one for the books. Peggy advises me to go play Holdum while she walks around. Any logical man would look at the poker table, then look at her and come to a very logical decision. Luckily she understands my mentality, so I buy in for $30. Ten or fifteen minutes later I am being schooled in the art of Texas Holdum by a bunch of renegades who are still pissed off at Custer.

I’m all in with my last $3.00 when Peggy saunters into the poker room and asks, “How’re you doing, Soncho?” She doesn’t know how to play, but any fool can see that if you do not have a stack of chips in front of you, then it’s not good. At least she isn’t shouting “Loser.” Peg sits down behind me and I catch her hand. And I catch all the next ones…eight hands in a row. Got my thirty bucks back and another $115 of their money in ten minutes. Good time to bail, and thanks to Peg’s karma and my stupidity we got a free 2½ star room.

Next morning the casino gods are still angry; they have cried all night and the Scoot is very wet. Someday when I play with the big boys in Vegas, I can guarantee that Peggy will be there with me and all the drinks will be on me. I have lived in two Nevada sewers, Laughlin and Las Vegas. If Nevada is ever to get an enema, I know where the hose is going. It’s a cardinal sin to leave a casino with hard-earned cash. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, like your cash, your car, the title to anything you own, your checking account, watch or maybe even your wife or your life.

Sunday we decide to head back to hell via Camp Verde. Still angry, we are followed all the way by the casino gods in the form of some very interesting clouds. Peggy, who has ridden with me hard, is now water-logged and ready to be put away wet, clings for dear life hoping not to become a skid mark on the highway. When she spots a tarantula on the highway, she does an excellent job of not commandeering the scoot. The tarantula brings to mind the age old question, “Why did the spider cross the road?” To get his picture taken! While I’m trying to get the little critter to smile, Peggy is mumbling something about my mother, but I can’t make the connection. Read: clouds, spider, mother. Duh?

After a few iced tea stops, we arrive back at my place. Her derriere needs a place that doesn’t move. Damn, Peggy, you are a good sport and you know wh-a-a-a-at? We’ll do it all again soon. When Peggy calls me later, there is no reference to my mother, or to her sore butt. Peggy, you are a good sport and you’ve always been a great piece…of my heart, and always will be. Great ride, Peggy, thanks for coming along.

Editor’s note: Soncho, Thanks for sharing, but it sounds like your Scoot could use a sissy bar. Peggy’s worth it. And there’s a great selection at Cruiser Customizing: click here.

For our members: If you think that Soncho displays a decided lack of political correctness, you’re probably right! Soncho is planning a series of Rice Burner Trips around Arizona. For next year, he’s organizing a group ride to Mazatlan, Mexico for the ’07 Bike Week, which attracts bikers by the thousands from the US and Mexico. Soncho knows Mazatlan inside out and going with a guide for a ride through foreign countries is always a good idea. Plan on riding a thousand miles either way from Phoenix to Mazatlan. Skilled, adventurous riders with solid bikes can contact Soncho for details. He’s also looking for investors for his biker bar. Write Soncho at Soncho2@hotmail.com –Ed.

Please Note: You will be dealing directly with Soncho and not Cruiser Customizing. We are listing these tours and ventures only as a service to our members. Cruiser Customizing has no business interest nor is involved in any way with these tours.

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3. Message From Tiny

Cruiser Customizing Member Tiny (yellow shirt) with his family on their vacation.

Cruiser Customizing member Joseph “Tiny” Haynes wrote us this touching letter. “I love the Newsletter. I’m a dude who is in a permanent malfunctioning mode and have been getting the check for thirty-one years. I have a muscle disabling disease called MG. In 2003 I bought a Honda Saber. I cannot ride for long distances, so I bought a fifth wheel and pull a cargo trailer behind it with my motor scooter on it. I am going to ride my motor scooter in every state of America over the next several years.”

Tiny, please keep us updated as to your progress in every state, with pictures. We’d love to share your progress with you and will run your Kodak moments in the Newsletter -Ed.

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4. CruiserCustomizing on the Road

Meet CruiserCustomizing on the Road.

The VTX that will be given away at Street Vibrations this year.

Meet CruiserCustomizing on the road at these fine biker rallies:

Events near Cruiser Customizing's Headquarters in Livermore, California.

Rallies Cruiser Customizing will be attending this year.

Cruiser Customizing / Road Bike Magazine / Kuryakyn will be giving the VTX 1800 F away at Street Vibrations, where the winner will be announced. Be sure to be there!

Please email us at feedback@CruiserCustomizing.com if you would like to help us at any of the rallies.

5. BACKFIRE


My old high school buddy Jeff Medved sent these shots in. Jeff’s advice? “Gotta love those rednecks.” Maybe that’s why you moved from Long Island to Arizona, Jeff!

What happens when you need a custom bike and the steel factory shuts its doors and moves to China? You go chop down an old oak tree, that’s what!



Ladies, is it nearly impossible to pry your husband away from Orange County Choppers to go out and mow the lawn? Then get him the new Mow-Chopper for the best in customizing lawn care.

Thanks Chris

The Biker Wall

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