Illegal Offroading

[opfermanmotors]

[opfermanmotors]

A follow up to this video:

A Camas man got busted for illegally off-roading and destroying state forest land. And to punish him, a judge sentenced him to make an apologetic YouTube video.

But now that the public-service announcement has gone live, Rickey Sharratt calls the whole thing “baloney.”

“It’s just a bunch of baloney,” he said. “I just thought that was an easier route to go” than jail work crew.

Sharratt, 29, also vented Wednesday about the trial that led him to reluctantly agree to the video, saying the prosecuting attorney excused all possible jurors who could have sided with him — those who like to four-wheel drive.

“The jurors were all a bunch of tree-hugging hippies,” he said.

After a six-member District Court jury found Sharratt guilty of the misdemeanor crime of destruction of state-owned property in May, a state Department of Natural Resources officer suggested the idea of filming the video as a way of getting its message out.

Clark County District Court Judge James Swanger agreed to the idea. He asked Sharratt whether he’d rather serve five days on work crew or take part in the video. Sharratt picked the video.

Sentenced May 28, Sharratt’s video went live on YouTube this month.

While the punishment is unusual, Swanger said Wednesday he thought it would benefit the defendant — and the public — the most.

“I thought it was probably more therapeutic for him,” Swanger explained. “If the word gets out about the problems with illegal off-roading, that’s a benefit to all of us.”

On Feb. 2, officials say Sharratt maneuvered his Chevrolet Blazer around a locked gate at a forest service road near Tukes Mountain east of Battle Ground, according to court documents. Next to the locked gate was a sign that said, “No motorized vehicles.”

However, Sharratt said he never tried to get around the gate but took back trails to the forest land instead.

After driving his truck through the mud and then getting it a stuck in the mud near a beaver pond, a logger noticed him trying to pull the Blazer out of the pond. The logger notified DNR workers, who responded and cited Sharratt.

Damage to the forest road was estimated at $2,140, according to court documents. Swanger ordered Sharratt to pay back $1,200.

In the YouTube video — which crested more than 700 page views by Wednesday afternoon — Sharratt first talks about the incident and his ensuing punishment before explaining how off-roading affects wildlife. He’s seated behind a table, reading from a piece of paper, as he addresses the camera. A heavy metal song is playing in the background in between takes, when the camera switches to pictures of his muddy truck.

He first says he thought it would be fun to off-road — then, the word “busted!” appears across the screen. He goes on to say he has since learned about the repercussions.

“I learned how off-roading damages habitat that fish and wildlife depend on,” he says. “The cost of illegal off-roading is pretty horrible.”

Prompted in the video to explain why he agreed to go public with his message, Sharratt explains, “To make others aware of the situation and how important it is to read the signs.”

At the end, a message says the video was ordered by a Clark County District Court judge.

The video is a first for DNR, said Larry Raedel, chief of law enforcement services. Officials have noticed a growing number of people posting videos on YouTube, showing them illegally off-roading on forest land. Officials thought they’d put a spin on that trend.

“This has been something that officers are all aware of. We’re paying attention to the social networking sites,” he said. “We really want to get the word out about what the rules are.”

[JETZcorp]

$2000 worth of damage?  What in the hell?  And does anyone else find it funny that he was busted by a logger?  You simply can't try and tell me that all the 4x4s and quads and dirt bikes throughout the entire history of the planet have managed to do as much damage as the humble chainsaw.

Where's the Phantom Duck of the Desert when you need him?!

One of the times I go riding next, I plan on doing a video about the environment and such.  I intend to show the world the difference between the "damage" caused by bikes and quads, and the damage caused by the National Forest Service in their attempts to keep the bikes and quads out.  They've sawed down 60 year-old trees to block a road, and then continued cutting for an eighth of a mile to make sure no one can get in and damage the roots of those trees.  And then they go in with bulldozers, and dig massive trenches and stack mud four feet high in this big ugly heap, to keep the environment nice and beautiful.  And meanwhile, if you even dare to ride around without a spark arrestor, they stack on a big hefty fine.  Nevermind that in order to do so, they had to drive their Jeep over some highly flammable dry yellow grass, with headers and catalytic converter glowing orange with heat and pressed against the tinder!  It's all ridiculous.

[2stroke250]

He's like, "this is total bullpoo....stupid video, I learned nothing and just want to go on with my life." Come on, this guy doesnt care about the animals, he probably hunts anything that moves and hangs the heads on his bedroom walls. Any idiot knows not to go around a gate, or shred up state land.

[MXLord327]

I don't care what they say, State land belongs to the people that pay taxes in that state, not the beaurocrats running it!!  Riding or 4 wheeling should not be illegal in the first place!!

[JETZcorp]

Okay, it's story time!  I would like to point out ahead of time (for imagined legal purposes) that I did not write this, SuperHunky did.  This tale begins on page 321 of Monkey Butt.

THE TRUE STORY OF THE PHANTOM DUCK

Did you ever sit around and daydream about taking on a big corporation that just wronged you?  Or maybe getting even with a company that just ripped you off?  How about the ultimate?  Taking on the Internal Revenue Service!  And winning!  We'd all like to have the time, money, and energy to fight the Battle Royal, but, in the course of earning a living and just getting along, day by day, we somehow never seem to get up the steam to actually realize that dream.

One man did.

He goes by the name of The Phantom Duck of the Desert, and, single-handedly, has taken on the Mighty Bureau of Land Management, or the BLM, as we have come to know it.

If you ride a dirt bike of any kind, on any land other than a private park, anywhere, at any time, you are not doing it by the will of the Lord.  Nope.  You are doing it because the BLM, in their infinite goodness, has not yet closed that land down.

However, we must face up to the rather alarming fact that most of the people who ride, are riding illegally, most of the time, most of the places.  Why?

Simple.  We don't have any other places to ride.  Here in the vast Southwest, we have literally millions of acres of wasteland that bears the name "desert."  Much of this land is owned by the railroad, more by other private industry, but, by and large, most of the land is owned by us.  That's right.  Us.  You and me.

"Hey," you say, "that makes it nice.  It's our land.  Therefore, we can ride cycles and off-road vehicles on it, right?"

Wrong, dead wrong.  Standing between us and the rational use of our land, is the aforementioned BLM.  The very name sends spasms of disgust up this writer's spine.  The Bureau of Land Management.  It smacks of post-World War II purges.  Stalinist Russia.  Control.  The government bigger than the people.

On paper, in front of a committee of white-haired legislators, the ideals of managing land for the good of the people almost sound reasonable.  In practice, they make you want to puke.

Which brings us back to the Phantom Duck.  He saw the land slowly and surely being taken away from us.  He saw the bikers being herded into small pockets of the desert, much like a bunch of diseased cattle.

He wanted to do something.  Naturally, he felt that he should work within the system, but after finding that the local branch of the AMA (District 37) was bound and determined to work with the BLM, he decided to strike out on his own.

After working with the BLM, District 37 had come out not only empty-handed, but looking like simpering idiots.  The BLM had simply bent them over, greased it up, and rammed it home, legislatively speaking, of course.

What really pissed the Duck off, was the canceling of the 1975 Barstow to Vegas desert classic.  This race had been run for eight years and was a "must" for every off-road rider in the Southwest.  In 1974, 3,500 riders participated in the race.

The BLM, seeing this many people having fun, freaked out!  When the sponsoring club, San Gabriel Valley MC, reapplied for the event in 1975, they were denied it on the flimsiest of pretexts.

Strangely, the BLM offered to let the Barstow race happen again at a later date, or, (get this) trade the Barstow event for more new land to be opened up in the near future.

They made this offer to those in charge of District 37.  Now, we didn't know the district officers all that well, but it seemed to us that if they bought the song and dance the BLM gave them, they would be prime candidates for swamp land lots in Florida.

But, as the story sadly goes, they bought it, hook, line, and proverbial sinker.  No new land was ever opened up.  We lost the B to V event, and several others of importance.

All these things must have run through the feathered mind of the Phantom Duck, as he sat there, pondering the status of things.

1978 was not the first time the Duck quacked.  No sir, you can bet your beak on that.  When we lost the Barstow Run in 1975, he immediately saw what was happening and decided to do something about the situation.

This was the First Annual 'Unorganized' Barstow to Vegas Trail Ride.  To keep things completely legal, our friend the Duck decided to have a trail ride, rather than a race.  You see, to have any sort of race, you must go through the humiliating process of inserting your tongue into the bowels of the BLM cheeks.

Paperwork, endless paperwork is what they demand.  And they want money for you to ride on your own land.  They also insist on Impact Studies and reports.  And more forms.  You must also be very nice to them.  You must kiss their bureaucratic butts, or they’ll really make things tough for you.  They’ll lose papers.  They make sure that the Environmental Impact studies just don’t get done in time.  Or get lost.  It’s degradation, humiliation, posturing, groveling, and boot-licking of the worst sort.

The Duck took a deep breath, flexed his wings back, and said:  “To hell with all this.  We are still Americans.  This is still our land, and, by gawd, we can ride on it, no matter what the BLM says.”

The First Annual Trail Ride was somewhat less than a blazing success.  According to the BLM rangers (who were monitoring the area like CIA spies), about 25 bikers showed up.  The BLM chose to ignore the happening, for a number of reasons, some of which we shall explore a bit further downstream.

We personally happen to know that the actual number was closer to 75 riders, but that is not important.  Different groups of riders took different routes.  What is important, though, is that the Duck and his Feathered Friends did ride that day.  They rode the entire distance from Barstow, California, to Las Vegas, Nevada.

And, you know what?  The Earth did not end.  The desert did not die.  Dust clouds did not encircle the planet.  Species of wildlife did not perish.  Indian burial grounds were not violated.

All that happened was this:  a friendly bunch of bikers got together and had a nice trail ride covering maybe 160 miles, tops.

The following year, the race was relegated to the history books, as B to V was written off.  The Phantom Duck saw fit to hold the Second Annual Trail Ride, of course, unofficially, and a few more riders showed up.  Not the thousands who had enjoyed the event in the years past, but hard-core riders who refused to give up the concept of being allowed to ride on supposedly free American land.

A third year passed, and the Duck responded with yet another trail ride.  The BLM, chose to ignore the existence of any sort of protest.

1978 rolled around.  By this time, the riders in District 37 were not only fried at the BLM, they were infuriated with their own officers.  The Board of Directors of the Legal Defense Fund had done little more than pick their collective noses.  Rumblings were happening.

While the Duck was busy urging riders to join him in a peaceful protest, the officers of District 37 pleaded for the riders to ignore the upstart.  Jim Wells (from the AMA) even wrote a piece for the Sierra Club newsletter, the ORV Monitor, calling the efforts of The Duck destructive, and begging riders to ignore the protest ride.

The Duck stepped up his pace.  Letters and posters were mailed to President Carter, the Governor of California, everyone of importance in the BLM, congressmen, senators, legislators and just about everyone of influence.  Sort of a Message to the Leeches, as it were.

At this point, the BLM went absolutely bug-nuts!  They flipped out!  Eyeballs rolled uncontrollably.  They reeled against walls and stumbled into urinals.  Reacting like slack-jawed pinheads and trained circus geeks, the BLM redlined!

They did this, mostly, because they realized that sooner or later, someone would step up to challenge them.  They knew it had to come.  And they were ready.

They figured that if someone tried to rebel against their policies, they would squash that individual.  Make an example of him.  Ruin him.  Hold him up to the light and say, “See?  See what happens when you mess with the BLM?  You get your ass in a sling of the worst sort!”

There are only two things they never counted on:  the backbone of the Duck, and the people who rallied behind him when it came right down to the wire.

First, you have to understand what the Duck was up against.  When the paperwork for the 1978 Barstow protest ride was distributed, the Duck was contacted by the BLM and threatened.

This was very surprising, as the Duck operated out of a P.O. box number that was placed by his sister from Northern California.  Using tactics that were normally reserved for snaring people who sold nuclear secrets to the Enemy, they tracked the Phantom Duck down and proceeded to lean on him.  And lean hard.

A Federal attorney named Burton Stanley told the Duck that if he didn’t retract his promotion of the ‘unauthorized’ trail ride, he was going to be thrown in jail and fined $2,000. (Note from JETZ: That’s $6,500 in 2009 money)  “Of course,” said the good lawyer, “because you’re a first offender, chances are you’ll get off with two years’ probation and a reduced fine.”

“However,” continued the good barrister, “if you retract everything you’ve said, and issue a statement that what you said was harmful and bad, we’ll drop all our plans to prosecute, and let you go on your way.”

At this point, most folks would probably have yielded to the good Mister Stanley and gone quietly about their business, forgetting all about irritating the Mighty BLM.

The Duck, remembering what his great-grandfather had once said, bristled, and quoted, “Quack, quack.  Don’t look back.  Who wings first overall?  The Phantom Duck of the Desert, that’s who.”

All of this came to an ugly head, when the Duck was served with papers about a week before the 1978 Protest Ride.  The subpoena was an inch and a half thick and headlined as follows:

THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA VS.
LOUIS HENREY McKEY

And I'll leave the story there for now and we can pick it up later.  Perhaps tomorrow.  I intend to get the entire saga of this thing written down here, right through to the '90s.

[JETZcorp]

Did anybody read what I posted?  If people are interested I'll keep putting it up here, but if they're not then I won't bother.  It's okay if you didn't, that's a lot of material to go through.

[TMKIWI]

Yep i read it.
But only because my subscription to the porn channel has expired. 

[Coop]

Did anybody read what I posted?  If people are interested I'll keep putting it up here, but if they're not then I won't bother.  It's okay if you didn't, that's a lot of material to go through.

I have the book and have read it at least 5 times since I got it ten years ago.

[Hondacrrider]

I read it, please keep posting.

[JETZcorp]

Good, I was worried I did all that for nothing.


THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA VS.
LOUIS HENRY McKEY

Imagine, the entire US of A against one man!  IT was at this point that The Duck contacted me about his plight.  I had been in touch with Lou for some time, and I was planning to do a story on the Fourth Annual “Unorganized” Barstow to Vegas Trail Ride.  Now, instead of looking forward to a pleasant trail ride, the Duck was looking at a possible prison term and a large fine.

The way the BLM served the Duck with those terrible-looking legal papers was pretty sneaky.  In fact, they bent and skirted the law to make sure Lou never had a chance in court.

Late on a Wednesday evening, he was served the papers by a Federal marshal.  The BLM was asking for a temporary restraining order against the Duck THE VERY NEXT MORNING!  If he wanted to contest the order, he would have to get a lawyer that night, prepare a rebuttal, and appear in court in less than 12 hours, ready to defend himself against a team of lawyers.

It was clearly impossible.  To complicate things even more, Lou was on jury duty and couldn’t even get away if he wanted to.

We talked that night, and tried desperately to think of something.  I called my lawyer and told him the situation.  He told us that unlike normal municipal courts, the federal system isn’t required to give you a reasonable notice.  The only possible thing to do was send a telegram to the judge, explaining the situation, and hope for the best.

Fortunately, the judge turned out to be a reasonable human being, and ordered both parties to appear in court in one week.  This was the week right before the Trail Ride.  The hearing was scheduled for Tuesday – the ride for Saturday.

The news media picked up on the confrontation, and naturally, the environmentalists peppered the reports with all sorts of lies.  The newspapers churned out erroneous headlines that the federal courts halted the “race.”  People got furious and said that, order or no order, they were going to ride.  The mood of the off-road people got ugly.

We got busy.  Our lawyer started working to defend the Duck with only three days to go before the Tuesday hearing.  We sent word to Cycle News that all was not lost yet, and for riders not to give up hope.  We also started the Legal Defense/Attack Fund at that point and asked riders to Send a Buck to Save The Duck.  They responded.  Money started to come in almost immediately, which said a lot for the influence and circulation of Cycle News at that time.

Our lawyer, George Stephan, and a former Hodaka rider, worked night and day, and had his office staff cranking out the necessary papers at flank speed.  Somehow, some way, when Tuesday morning rolled around, he had prepared a beautiful defense, based on the First Amendment to the Constitution – the right to Free Speech.

At 20 minutes to ten on Tuesday morning, in the Federal Courthouse, six lawyers for the BLM sat around in a waiting room, chuckling and smiling, waiting to get in court and crucify the Duck.  They assumed he wouldn’t have a lawyer.  Or maybe he wouldn’t even show up.  Then, they’d win by default.

Their mutual back-slapping came to an end when George walked into the room and slapped a stack of papers in front of them an inch thick, and announced that he was the attorney for the defense.  Jaws went slack and a great deal of muttering and stumbling speech ensued.  All the laughter ceased.

The duck, some members of the motorcycling press and a few friends, made up our party.  The BLM had their team of lawyers, a gaggle of official sorts from their various offices, and a pair of zombie-like rangers standing around, looking as official as they possibly could.

We spent the entire day in that foreboding courtroom, and a lot of things came out.  The judge, Warren Ferguson, seemed like a fair and honest sort, and said right up front that he encouraged peaceful dissent.

The BLM got up and argued; then George got up and argued back at them.  Back and forth, back and forth.  A large map was produced and the BLM attempted to show that the proposed ride of the Duck would go over a “highly sensitive area” called Coliseum Gorge, an area with rare and threatened species in it.

George was ready for this, and got the BLM boss, Gerald Hillier, to admit that a local mining company had gone into that “sensitive area” and had bulldozed a road right through the Gorge.  In the process, they had taken the once-beautiful Coliseum Gorge, and removed it from the face of the earth.  In its place, was now a flat dirt road that you could drive a Buick up.

(Note from JETZ:  Super Hunky revealed more details on the Coliseum Gorge incident in his interview on the Steve Matthes show.  I recommend listening to the whole thing at some point, but the relevant bit starts at the 1:19:00 mark or so.  The link is http://www.pulpmx.com/moto_show/archives/podcasts/100120_Hunky.mp3)

The worse thing about this was that the BLM had approved the grading of that road.  Hillier himself had signed the permit, most certainly knew about it, and accused us in federal court of riding over an area that no longer existed.  That lying rat-bastard!  He sat right in front of the judge, told his Honor how our protest ride would fuck up all that sensitive terrain, and he knew it had been turned into a fire-road!

Right then and there, Louis and I exchanged some worried glances.  Even though it was good that Hillier had been caught in a huge lie, we realized that those pricks would literally stop at nothing.  They were out to cut our balls off and leave them to dry in the sun.

By the end of the day, the BLM as much as admitted that they gave away thousands of acres to mining companies and grazing interests, but they pleaded that their hands were tied by the Mining Act of 1872, and there was nothing they could do about it.

Finally, after a grueling, long day, the judge made a decision.  While he encouraged peaceful protest, he still could not condone breaking the law.  So, he gave the BLM a restraining order, but changed the wording to allow the Duck to ride, with 50 of his friends.  In effect, the judge over-rode the BLM and gave the Duck a permit.

The BLM attorney, a pudgy, pasty-faced slime-ball named Arnold, went bananas.  He got all red in the face and stammered out a plea to the judge to not allow any bikers  to ride.  The judge refused to change his stance, saying the citizens had the right to ride on open public land, as long as it was not an organized event with over 50 people.  With more than 50, said the judge, a permit from the BLM was needed.

Near hysterical at this point, the BLM attorney asked the judge what they should do if hundreds of people showed up.

The judge calmly replied, “That’s your problem.  You work it out.  I can’t do your job for you.”

The judge then asked the Duck to use his head and not promote the “non-event” anymore, and to do all he could to ride with only 50 people.  The Duck agreed.

However, the word got out that the protest ride was still on.  Newspapers ran big stories on our win in Federal Court, and on November 5, 1978, history was made.

Hundreds of people showed up to ride.  Thousands more came as support crews, or just to be part of a massive peaceful protest.  In desperation, the BLM rangers spent all of the day before the “non-event” trying to discourage people from participating.

They handed out copies of the court order and said that if more than 50 people rode with the Phantom Duck, they would be arrested.

The riders responded by playing the game with the rangers:  “What Duck?  Why, we’re just out here for a trail ride with some friends.  Who’s this Duck fellow?  And if there are more than 50 people, which of them are you going to arrest?  By the way, our little group here has way less than 50 people, so we’re not breaking any law.”

By Saturday morning, a small city had sprung up near the Harvard road off-ramp.  Everywhere you looked, riders were sporting signs of protest:  plastic ducks taped to helmets, number plates lettered QUACK QUACK, and even large plastic decoy ducks wired to handlebars.

The spirit of the crowd was more than obvious.  They were making a display of strength and unity against the BLM.  For the first time, a group of dirt bikers were jointly thumbing their noses at the arrogant policies and attitudes of the BLM.

People were happy and smiling.  Lots of joking was going on.  Banter in the pits went something like this:  “Hey, you here for the Phantom Duck Trail Ride?”

“Not me.  I never heard of it.  I’m merely out here as a free citizen of this country riding on our public land.  How’s about you?”

“Oh, same thing here.  I just thought this might be a nice place to start a casual ride.  I’m going to Vegas.”

“Why, isn’t that a coincidence!  Why don’t we ride together?”

“Of course.  But let’s  not ride in groups of more than 50, OK?”  Giggle.

And so it went.

The trail ride was a blazing success.  According to the BLM, 580 riders actually rode and several thousand additional people were in the pits.

Of course, they only counted up until nine o’clock.  We had some friends count, as riders were leaving as late as noon, and their estimate was slightly over 1,200 riders total.

But, no matter what set of numbers you go by, the point was made.  Just like the newscaster in the movie Network, the riders spoke out and said:  “We’re mad as hell, and we’re not going to take it anymore!”

The actual course, wandering from Barstow, California, to Las Vegas, Nevada, was great.  While too much fast fireroad was included in the layout, much of the terrain was beautiful enough to take your breath away.  Nearly 160 miles of public land was ridden that day.

Before reaching the Nevada state line, the riders had to climb up to the highest part of the course and they ran into snow.  Yup.  Good old white and fluffy stuff.  Some if it was two feet deep.  We had the distinct pleasure of seeing a snowball fight between nearly a dozen bikers  at the highest part of the snow area.  Spirits were high.

Doing their best to mar the event, the rangers were busy all along the course, taking photos of the passing trail riders and writing down the license plate numbers of the pit vehicles.

Later, this proved to be a genuine source of embarrassment to the BLM, as Assemblyman Bob Hayes filed criminal charges against them for violating our civil rights.  You just can’t go around gathering data like that on people, unless a crime has been committed.  Apparently, the BLM already made its mind up that we committed a crime, and were gathering evidence.  What a bunch of fun-loving cut-ups!

Still, the bikers showed great restraint and no incidents were reported.  We found out later that three riders had been injured during the trail ride, none seriously.  Bones heal.  It was reported to us that one of the injuries could have been avoided.  Rumor has it that some ribbon was removed by rangers in an attempt to discourage riders from continuing, and a rider got way off the course and fell into a ravine.

Riders trickled into the finish line area with big grins on their faces.  It was a fun ride with no hassles.  And the best part of it was that not one thin dime was paid to the almighty Big Brother for the privilege of riding on our land.

The happening in the Mojave Desert that day was more than a successful protest ride.  Off-road riders got genuinely behind the Duck.  After paying off the initial legal fees, the Legal Defense Fund was turned into a Legal Attack Fund.

At this point, the loosely-knit Phantom Duck of the Desert organization, whether they knew it or not, was going to face a truly frightening battle.  What happened here in the fight for the California desert, would affect dirt bikers across the nation.  If the BLM could be made to account for its actions and arrogance, then bikers everywhere would benefit.

Think about this:  there are millions of acres of public land in this great country that should be open to the people for recreational uses.  The only reason that this land is not open, is because a bureaucrat decided – without asking anyone – that he should play God.

Yet, starry-eyed environmentalists tell you that a lizard is more important than a human being.  They tell you that potential damage to a cactus is more critical than people having fun.

Listen to this.  No plant – present or past – is worth taking away our freedoms.  No archaeological site is worth more than the joy on the face of a kid on a mini-bike, trail riding for the first time.  People are more important than any pile of rocks, or any stretch of land.  If using the land can bring happiness and pure pleasure to people, then let it be used.

The BLM is always saying that we destroy the desert.  They conveniently ignore the fact that the great Mojave Desert has died and been re-born a half-dozen times in the last million years.

And it’ll die and be reborn another time in the future.  Nothing we can do will alter that fact.  In the millions of years that have gone by, the Mojave has been under water, under glaciers, and now, under sand.  What makes the BLM think that the puny efforts of man can have even an iota of effect over the powers of nature?

One sandstorm in the Mojave can move millions of tons of sand and dirt over hundreds of miles.  One flash flood can tear away the base of a mountain.  How can this compare with a set of tire tracks over the shifting sands?

If all the dirt bikers in America got together and rode around in a circle for a month at a spot in the Mojave, one sandstorm could wipe out every evidence of them having been there.  Overnight.

[eprovenzano]

Thanks for posting the article JETZ   

[JETZcorp]

Oh, there's still more!  Now, there's a piece where Super Hunky does a dystopian fiction about the state of riding in the future.  It's not strictly along the lines of this true story here, but it is a very good story nonetheless.  You guys want me to post it here, make a new topic, or just forget about it?  Either way, here's the next chunk of the Phantom Duck story proper.


LEGAL STUFF WITH THE PHANTOM DUCK

I was sitting here, looking at a stack of papers almost three inches thick.  My name was on those papers.  So was the name of the Phantom Duck of the Desert and his right-hand man, Al Fols.  This stack of papers, upon closer examination, said that the three of us were being sued by the Bureau of Land Management, through the office of the US Attorney.

We had beat the BLM in court and won the right to hold our protest ride.  Here’s what happened:  The ride was a blazing success, with thousands of folks showing up in a demonstration of peaceful dissent.  Even though the Duck was limited by law to ride with not more than 50 friends (and he did just that), those others must have showed up for moral support.

A funny thing, that weekend.  If the BLM hadn’t made such a big deal out of it, chances are that no more than a handful of folks would have showed up.  But they saturated the papers and media heavily, infuriating the riding public in the process.  By the time Thanksgiving rolled around, the BLM had worked everyone up to a fever pitch of nausea and spite.  At that point, even if the Duck owned a chain of TV and radio stations, he would have been unable to stop the people from protesting.

Which brought me back to that tidy stack of papers on the table, next to a can of cold suds.  The BLM named the three of us because we represented a threat to the way they do business.  The exact way they do business, is this:  They do anything they damned well want to, until a judge tells them no!

Right after the first of the year, Louis McKey, Al Fols and I formed a corporation called The Phantom Duck of the Desert, mostly to cover our asses.  Shortly after that, we announced that one of the goals of our new corporation was to go after the dirty laundry of the BLM and to try to get their act straightened out.

The results of that intent-to-pursue justice were now sitting right next to a can of beer.  In an almost knee-jerk reaction, the BLM went for our throats.  They wanted up behind bars!

You know, it seemed almost like fun and games to try and stand up for the dirt bikers when the Barstow to Vegas hassle started.  Then it got deadly serious.  They wanted us squashed like bus.

They knew that if they could crush the Duck and his pals, then no one else would ever stand up against the might of the BLM again.

And they were playing the ideal game.  We were the only ones with anything to lose.  Our homes were on the line.  Our savings accounts were drained from the legal fees.  If they won, they got everything we had.  If they lost, so what?  They’d just go back to work.  Another day, another government-secure job.

But guess what should tick you off more than the fact that they were trying to destroy us?  They were using your money to do it!  That’s right, buddy.  You think these government attorneys come cheap?  Oh, they might be cheap in the honesty and integrity department, but they cost money to perform.  Trained killer dogs cost a lot to train, feed, and maintain.

The average fee for a lawyer, depending on the area, was around a hundred bucks per hour (Note from JETZ:  That’s over $300/hour today).  Remember that stack of paper we mentioned that was three inches thick?  Do you have any idea how many man-hours were in that?  At [three] hundred per!

You see, the BLM was asking the judge to make us pay for the expenses they incurred during prosecuting us.  And the more they spent, the more they could try to burn us for.  And if they lost, hey, so what?  It was just taxpayer money.

On February 12th, in the Los Angeles Times, there appeared the following little piece on page two of section one:

”A court order seeking contempt citations has been filed by the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) against four Fontana men who allegedly organized a 150-mile motorcycle race last year through protected desert areas from Barstow to Las Vegas.  The BLM is charging that Rick Sieman, editor of DIRT BIKE Magazine, along with Louis McKey, Albert Fols, and William Brinson, defied a court order issued last Nov. 23 by a federal judge that restricted the ride through the desert to 50 motorcycles.  Instead, 600 participated in the race while 2,000 spectators were in attendance.”

Did you ever wonder how an article like this got to appear in a major newspaper?  Most organizations send out things called ‘press releases.’  These releases are written to sound as much like news as possible, in the hope that the newspaper that receives the item will run it in much of its original form.

Just about everyone, including the BLM, mails out releases on a regular basis.  Yet, for the suit the BLM filed against us, they hand-delivered their news releases to papers and radio stations in the area, especially those sympathetic to their causes.

Astonishing!  Here were public employees being used for political purposes.  Surely, squashing was a political move, if there ever was one.  But that was OK, because the salary for these leeches was merely taxpayers’ money.  And nobody ever complains about that, do they?

Louis and I talked it over and we felt that we could win this thing.  Maybe.  We were scheduled to appear in Federal Court in March.  The trial would take a long time.  If we did win, this could set a precedent.  If we lost, we’d just have to dig in, retrench, and get a bit more radical the next time around.

We had only two choices:  we either fought for what was right, or we signed-off dirt biking as we knew it.  This was probably the most critical year we would face in the next decade.  A loss here, and it would be grim.  Remember, one of our prime goals was to get the Bureau of Land Management squirming under the light of public scrutiny, like worms exposed from under a piece of damp wood.

Preparing for the trial was a bitch.  We worked 30 to 40 hours a week with the lawyer, and somehow I still had to put out a magazine, and Lou had to work full time as an electrician.  It was a tense, scary time.

[TMKIWI]

That reminds me of a guy here called Dave Henderson.
He upset 1 guy at the tax department over comments made to his secretary.
He went in for a tax refund and ended up with a $1m dollar bill.
They went after him and bankrupted him.
He lost his girl friend , house and everything. But he would not give up.
It took him 10 years to clear his name.
In the end he managed to make back alot of money and he bought the tax department offices, renamed it "Henderson House", then evicted them when the lease was up 
When government oficials have it in for you it's pretty hard to win.
It's great when the little man does.

They made a film about it. Bloody interesting.
The movie was called "We're here to help". Yeh right !
Heres a link.
http://www.nzherald.co.nz/inland-revenue/news/article.cfm?o_id=89&objectid=10382813

[Hondacrrider]

This is kind of interesting. Where I live, as long as you are riding on dirt, you are good, there will be signs up that say, No trespassing, but those signs are only there so you can not sue the city. The city could really care less if you are there. If you get hurt on someones property, and try to sue, the defendant can simply state that you were trespassing. A local track has signs up that say No trespassing, yet there is a motocross track there, and it has been there for 40 years, if the city didn't want you trespassing, they would take the track down. Anyways, it kinda sucks that all your guys' riding area is being taken away, I guess I am lucky because I walk for 2 mins with my bike, and I have access to unlimited trails.