On The Mark

Thirty years is a long time. In some professions, 30 years is an entire career – time for the party, gold watch, and beachside margaritas. Or maybe it’s matching, white New Balance sneakers and Hawaiian shirts as you and the spouse enjoy the never-ending buffet on a cruise ship that holds the equivalent of a big crowd at Citifield. Then you find out the ship is a giant, floating petri dish, you just contracted the latest version of an intestinal plague, and your bowels are running like Usain Bolt. You arrive home to a stack of AARP mags and solicitations for Medicare supplements. But THIS is about 30 years of Backroads, as far from AARP as the distance to the Voyager probe.

My personal experience with Backroads goes back to “ought three,” when Betsy and I were on a motorcycle tour in Montana. We got picked up at the airport by a van and I vaguely remember a large, gregarious man with a very New York accent, talking animatedly. He might have handed out copies of a tabloid-sized, newsprint “magazine.” My experience with large, animated New Yorkers had not been satisfying up to that point, so I treaded cautiously. We had a great trip, except that the entire state of Montana was on fire, but after riding with the herd the first day, we told the guide “sayonara” and went rogue, as did everyone

We had to overnight in a motel in Kalispell that was WAY sketchier than it should have been and I ended up at the bar with the New York guy, downing gin and tonics like I needed the quinine for my malaria. We talked about Backroads and it turned out he was WAY nicer than some of the other large, loud New Yorkers I had met. At the time, I was writing a bicycle club newsletter that a few people found amusing. And that’s when he invited me to submit something for publication (it must have been the gin). My first piece was called “Stolen Rides” and its publication made me feel like Ralphie in “A Christmas Story” when he still believes his “theme” is the golden ticket to the Red Ryder. I knew how to spell and stayed inside the word limits, so editing my stuff wasn’t too hard and they published more things (and I got to know the more diminutive, but no less dynamic, partner in Backroads).

In ’06, I got the email that literally changed my life: I was offered a regular, monthly column in what was a rapidly-growing and improving Backroads, now in glossy living color! Instead of a “vox clamantis in deserto,” I was given the gift of a voice that was definitely NOT in a desert – it was in an amazing, high-quality publication with a broad following. The other great thing I was learning about Backroads was that their rally peeps were really cool – an eclectic blend from all over the map, literally and figuratively. We now consider a lot of those people to be our family, something ELSE that is special about Backroads. I wouldn’t call us perfectly functional and definitely not dysfunctional, we’re…multifunctional! We’re there for each other and I dare you to find another publication that shares that kind of ethos among their creators and readers. We even have BERT, the Backroads Emergency Recovery Team!

Backroads is a phenomenon. It’s lightning-in-a-bottle captured and lovingly held in a bell jar of a publication by two amazing people. I need to mention more than the big, gregarious guy, because the beating heart and soul of the party is his brilliant, beautiful, artistic, gourmet-chef partner whose layout and editing skills make Backroads a sexy beast of a magazine. If he’s the chemical reaction, she’s the catalyst (and vice versa). There are reasons other print publications have fallen by the wayside and Backroads hasn’t, but it comes down to two lovely people whose never-say-die determination and incredible relationships with their readers and advertisers keeps this magazine not only afloat, but thriving. I searched my mind for one word that would best define the Backroads ethos and I came up with “kindness.” Hell, even Spenser the cat is friendly.

Here’s to 30 years, the traditional “pearl anniversary.” This pearl is the monthly work of art Brian and Shira put together, plucked from a sea of choices. Here’s to the crazy, wonderful band of people who read and advertise and attend the rallies, the Backroads family. This anniversary is just as much yours as it is ours. Cheers!