'Twisted Oz' Motorcycle Museum & Cow's Paradise - May 22

Tuesday May 22

Improbably my motel turns out to be located right across the street from the 'Twisted Oz' motorcycle museum, which is my main reason for riding this way through Kansas. It's open Wednesday through Sunday, and in the mistaken belief that today is Wednesday, I ride the MZ over. (Forgetting weekdays is a sure sign that you're really on vacation). Fortunately Kelly Modlin, the owner, shows up just at the same time, invites me in, and over the next hour gives me the grand tour.

The museum is a good size, with a lot of oddball and rare motorcycles or trikes. Red Indian 6-cylinder is at right. 

1923 Henderson, modified with a trike rear end, so the owner doesn't have to worry about keeping the balance.

There's an abundance of American motorcycles, half the bikes are nicely restored, and most of them actually run. There are two Nimbuses, one of which is owned by a 91-year old gentleman, who only now thinks of mounting a sidecar for stability. But for me it's the specials that count. And of those there are some in particular, that stand out: Obviously Herb Ottoway's 6 cylinder Indian Chief is one of them, an electric start Henderson Four one-off trike is another, as is a parallel twin 'Wood' from 1914. Only this one was built, and was ridden extensively by the constructor and his wife. Interestingly they divorced, and some time after that she poisoned him!

One-off 'Wood' two stroke parallel twin, with an interesting (if a bit morbid) story to it.

Red Indian racer, and next to it the neatest little Harley dirttrack bike I have ever seen.

Kelly seems impressed with the MZ, and when I tell him that it's for sale once the trip is over, he doesn't flinch at the (admittedly not particularly high) price. And if he wants the trailer at market price, he can have that one and the sidebags too, even if I had planned to take it all back with me to Denmark. Frankly it would be really neat if it ended up right here, because I like the style of the museum, as well as Kelly's non-puritan approach to how old bikes should look and be treated.

Kelly Modlin with his very early Excelsior, which he starts right up. It has been used for The Cannonball Run, in which he participates every time, but on different motorcycles.

The twin engined Vincent streamliner 'Lambky  Liner' is by far the longest motorcycle in this collection. It ran an estimated 275 mph (443 km/h) in second gear before a supercharger spindle broke and spoiled a run on Bonneville Salt Flats in 2008 .

Some years ago I wrote a couple of articles for 'Motorcycle Classics', a Topeka-based magazine, and I've warned the editor Richard Backus that I'd drop by. In order to make time I only take part of the scenic Rt. 177 north, and then jump on the Kansas Turnpike. It is not often one can put 'beautiful' and 'freeway' in the same sentence, but the first part of this stretch qualifies: Green rolling hills as far away as the eye can see, dotted with cows on pastures and in cool lakes - compared to the prison camp style pens of yesterday, this must be the cows' version of Paradise.

The Kansas Turnpike is, however, hardly a slow motorcyclist's paradise. I'm doing 55 downhill, working hard to stay above the 40 mph minimum speed limit going uphill, and everybody else is at or above the 75 mph max. allowable speed. Trucks too, of course, and a few of these locomotive sized rigs like to play a slightly altered game of 'chicken' with me, by getting as close to me as possible before taking evasive action. Only one of them wins, though, by scaring me out on the shoulder of the road.

At the magazine's office Richard comes out to greet me, along with other bike enthusiasts from the publishing house. And soon we ride along a series of really nice hilly and - on one half mile stretch - curvy back roads to his house in nearby Lawrence. As boring as the last two days' ride was, today more than made up for it: Kansas can be really beautiful too. The day ends with dinner out, in the company of Richard's brother Tony, and girlfriend Jean, who seems delighted to get a chance to speak Danish, which she learned when she stayed a year over there. A long time ago.

Colorado to Chicago.