Sorry this is such a short Sunday Post. Bandit was having connectivity issues while at Bonneville, so no emails from him. What it means, however, is we’ll post a huge Thursday News. I haven’t heard from the guys today, so I’m not sure how things are going at the BUB meet. They did get the Bonne Belle running, hoping they’ll make passes today. Enjoy your Sunday Post!
~Nyla
CYCLE SOURCE 15th Anniversary Party
Cycle Source Magazine held a 15th Anniversary Party at the Sturgis Saloon Co on Lazelle Street during the 72nd Sturgis Motorcycle Rally.
Many industry dignitaries enjoyed each other’s company as well as complimentary food and beverages.
[photo 31510]
Breakfast In Nemo
While in Sturgis one of the things I look forward to is my morning ride up Vanocker Canyon to Nemo for the All You Can Eat Breakfast put on by the Volunteer Fire Department.
Good Chow for a fair price and a good cause.
Rogue
The Next Wave of Ticket Cameras
The small town of Glen Echo, Maryland (population 259) made headlines recently when its mayor proposed a unique addition to the town’s landscape: a stop sign camera mounted at the town’s only intersection.
Maryland statutes don’t currently allow such cameras, so town Mayor Debbie Beers has lobbied state officials for an amendment authorizing their use.
Beers’ justification for the camera focuses on high traffic volume through the intersection (200,000 vehicles annually) coupled with low compliance at the existing stop signs. News reports failed to mention any history of serious traffic accidents, injuries or fatalities at this particular intersection.
Perhaps a clue to Beers’ true aim can be found in the second half of her proposal: As an alternative to the camera, she has suggested that the county let the town to keep the revenue from citations currently being issued by conventional means.
That seems clear enough—this is Maryland after all. A state whose public officials are known as early and aggressive adopters of all things photo enforcement. An amendment to state statute seems like a slam dunk. From there, watch as cameras sprout up at every busy crossroads from Ocean City to Hagerstown.
And while stop sign cameras are not yet in wide use nationally, they have proven highly lucrative where they are.
Take the Santa Monica Mountains near Los Angeles, for example. The Mountains Recreation and Conservation Authority (MRCA), the agency that oversees the area, set up stop sign cameras at seven locations five years ago, and the results have been nothing if not spectacular. In 2010 alone, these seven cameras issued thousands of citations and generated $2.4 million in revenue for the authority.
Considering the high volume of activity, you may think the cameras were a response to chronic accident issues. Yet, from 2005 (before the cameras) to 2012, the LAPD has no records on file of any vehicle accidents in the area.
Los Angeles camera activist and friend of the NMA, Jay Beeber, has written extensively about the MRCA camera program. His blog posts clearly document (with photos) the systematic abuses MRCA has employed. Check out how MRCA painted crosswalks in the middle of the road to justify the stop signs and the cameras.
This latest photo enforcement scheme follows the standard ticket camera formula for success: keep fines low enough and make mounting a defense hard enough that most motorists simply pay up and move on.
Stop sign cameras represent just one aspect of this next generation of photo enforcement. There are others. School bus cameras, automated license plate readers, average speed cameras, aerial drones—all have the potential to harm motorists, not to mention ratcheting up the surveillance quotient on our daily lives.
It’s ironic these “tools” that do such a good job of scrutinizing the public have not in turn received the public scrutiny they deserve. In the months to come, look to the NMA to stay informed on these issues so that you can take action if your community decides to catch the next wave.
STURGIS BROKEN SPOKE SALOON
No matter what Broken Spoke Saloon you go to you will have a good time. The Sturgis Broken Spoke started 20 years ago with riders with a love for the open road and adult beverages making it their favorite stop and then it growing into the biggest biker bar on the planet.
Hot Barmaids, Cold Beers and other adult beverages, rockin bands and a master of ceremonies named Jack Schit. Hell after stopping by and meeting him you can tell people you Know Jack Schit and had a great time partying with him and all the other great down to earth bikers that party and camp there.
The Marine Corps mascot, a bulldog named Chesty,
got into a confrontation with a superior officer, Defense Secretary Leon Panetta’s Golden Retriever. Despite this “breach” of protocol, Chesty still got a promotion from corporal to sargeant. WSJ’s Julian E. Barnes reports from Washington.
WASHINGTON—The Marines won’t say it out loud, but everyone knows that Cpl. Chesty got promoted to sergeant this summer not for being a good Marine, but for his in-your-muzzle confrontation with the top dog in the Pentagon.
Just two weeks before his promotion, the Marine Corps mascot, an English bulldog formally known as Chesty XIII, had a run-in with Bravo, Defense Secretary Leon Panetta’s golden retriever. Chesty, usually known for happily mugging for photos with kids, revealed his inner grunt when he spotted the larger dog at the conclusion of a pomp-filled military parade held in honor of the Pentagon chief. Chesty growled, barked and ignored his choke-chain of command as he went nose-to-nose with Bravo.
Defense Secretary Leon Panetta and his dog Bravo with Chesty in May
As Chesty’s growl erupted into an angry bark, an officer urgently whispered in the ear of his handler, Sgt. Chris Harris: “Keep the leash tight.”
That kind of breach of decorum at the headquarters barracks, where the top generals and their wives reside, could have been career-ending for most Marines.
Chesty weathered the controversy and came out of it with a new stripe on his uniform.
Privately, some wives of senior Marine officers, more focused on politeness than doggedness, let it be known they didn’t approve of the promotion. A whispering campaign against Chesty reached the ears of Col. Paul Montanus, barracks commander. Some said Chesty was getting too fat. Some senior wives wanted Chesty relieved of duty in favor of a more pliable bulldog private serving in another unit.
Other senior Marines worried about the message promoting Chesty might send. In military chain of command, Bravo is second only to Bo Obama, the president’s hypoallergenic Portuguese water dog. The Constitution puts the military under civilian control, and some senior officers thought promoting Chesty might appear insubordinate.
“The standards in the barracks had lowered,” said one senior Marine officer. “The dog didn’t really deserve it.”
Col. Montanus, who had the dog’s fate in his hands, acknowledges that Chesty was wrong to shove his short snout in Bravo’s face. “There absolutely was a protocol break,” he said. “We don’t bark at guests, whether they are human or the canine variety.”
But, the colonel said, much of the opposition was baseless. A barracks spokesman says senior Marine wives love and support the current Chesty. And at 54 pounds, Chesty fits nicely in the dress blues he was issued as a younger dog, thanks to being served half the daily kibble ration of his chunky predecessors.
Nevertheless, in a speech at Chesty’s June promotion ceremony, Col. Montanus acknowledged the decision was “touch and go.”
“There are some Marines that are destined to be sergeant,” he said. “Then there are some whose conduct is…questionable. Chesty is one of those Marines.”
Col. Montanus said he had considered formally punishing Chesty for “disrespect to a superior commissioned dog.”
It is true that “Chesty made threatening gestures,” he said. “But we decided the body of work for Chesty was enough he rated becoming a sergeant.”
Left unspoken: The very act that made Chesty’s promotion controversial also made it more likely.
Immediately after the parade in honor of Mr. Panetta it became clear that going muzzle-to-muzzle with the 75-pound golden retriever was going to enhance Chesty’s reputation in the ranks.
While Mr. Panetta was present, the top Marines displayed embarrassed grins and laughed nervously. But after the boss left, the high-fives and atta-boys broke out. Far from being denied his traditional post-parade Milk-Bone, the bulldog found himself the object of warrior admiration. Even Gen. James Amos, the Marine commandant, approached Chesty and said, “Good job.”
There is a reason the Corps has a bulldog for a mascot and that he is named after the famously gutsy Marine Lt. Gen. Lewis “Chesty” Puller. Even within a service that values discipline, there is a certain mystique about a Marine who’s willing to poke a paw in the eye of power—particularly in defense of the homeland, or kennel.
Col. Montanus’s successor as barracks commander, Col. Christian Cabaniss, made plain the current Chesty had only grown in his estimation.
“Chesty embodies Gen. [James] Mattis’s saying about the Marines: ‘No better friend, no worse enemy,'” Col. Cabaniss said. “Chesty’s great. He is great with kids. But if you are impolite to him, if you are wrong, that is when he will defend himself.”
Like Chesty, Gen. Mattis has risen through the ranks despite the occasional public display of machismo—comments such as “Be polite, be professional, but have a plan to kill everybody you meet”—that has raised eyebrows with civilians.
Gen. Mattis, who oversees operations in the Middle East and Afghanistan, said he considers Chesty a “kindred soul.”
“He’s a fine Marine dog,” the general said. “Loyal, hardworking and full of fun—while looking mean as all get-out.”
Col. Montanus strenuously denies that the confrontation with Bravo helped Chesty’s promotion. A well-trained Marine, he said, should be able to recognize a superior.
“I would say Chesty needs some threat-identification classes,” he said. “I understand ‘No better friend, no worse enemy.’ But generally we are talking about our enemies, not our superior officers.”
Col. Montanus calls the clash with Bravo a minor infraction. Chesty, the colonel says, excels at his main responsibility: Accepting hugs from children with enthusiasm and without biting.
As for Bravo’s master, there seem to be no hard feelings. “Chesty may bark a lot,” Mr. Panetta said. “But he understands the chain of command.”
In an interview on a hot evening, Chesty was friendly and panted constantly. Although he didn’t answer questions about Bravo, he did jump on a reporter’s leg.
That’s it for the Post. Until next week…
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