Phantom Duck Of The Desert #iykyk

I don't get the AMA. TMo (iykyk), who is a life member as well as serving as a district chair in the past, said that the AMA had completely revamped the HoF election process last year. Not in a good way. To go from being barely beaten out by DC's mom two years back to not even on the ballot (I nominated him. Know several others that did, too.) is a travesty. Legends and Heroes honored him in Phoenix. If he doesn't deserve to be in the Hall of Fame, who the hell does?

gydbt.com

greatyellowdirtbiketruck.com

Kinda rhymes with Break-o? 

I think ole Ralphie had a whole bag full of 'special' tools.... 

That's the thing. It's not right. I think the AMA got torqued because he didn't work his protest through their 'system'. Pssst? Kinda of like every person that's ever swung a leg over a dirt bike. Ever. 

Nick? You must be OLD! LOL

Thank you. Nothing all that great except it was a great way for a tech+moto nerd to get up to speed on internet technology in the early days. Not quite dial-up. But close!

I think Rick was the first to write about him. Might've even conjured up the name? (It just *sounds* like a label the Hunk would dream up). First column after he returned to helm Dirt Bike in January 1979. And then, this, in July, 1979,  "From the Saddle":

 

WHO IS THE PHANTOM DUCK AND WHAT'S ALL THE UPROAR ABOUT?
The Mighty Mallard Is Fighting For More Than The Desert

By Rick Sieman/July 1979/Dirt Bike

(Mike Goodwin, the promoter of the Superbowl, invited me to write a piece on the our legal battle for his program. Thousands of programs were sold and we were able to raise a few bucks for our legal fees. This also explains who and what we were. Too bad not enough people gave a rats ass to keep it happening.)

An enormous amount of publicity and press coverage has been directed at The Phantom Duck of the Desert as of late. Still, many people haven't followed the story from its beginning and aren't too sure just exactly who the Duck is and what he does.

They know that in some way, he's fighting to keep the land from being taken away from all off-road enthusiasts. But, they don't know how or why.

To fill you in on the bottom line, the Phantom Duck started out as one man waging a lone battle against the Bureau of Land Management and has evolved into a full-blown, non-profit corporation. Actually, even before the land woes descended on the off roaders like a plague of locusts, the Phantom Duck was around and active, but in strictly a fun capacity.

In the late 60s and early 70s, The Winged Avenger championed the unsung backbone of the sport, the Novice riders who never won any trophies. He felt that all the big stars of desert racing got all the recognition and press, while the lowly Novice racer got beans.

Thus, we saw the rise of a last place finisher in a desert race, one Wallace Weatherwax (true name). Through a clever and devious campaign of small ads in Cycle News and hand-out flyers, “Quack, Quack” Weatherwax became a household name. At least in desert racing circles.

After achieving fame for Weatherwax, the Duck retired and rested his wings. Unfortunately, the rest was short. In the mid-70s, the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) swooped on the riding public like the Wind of Death and grief was rampant. Land was closed, races were being cancelled right and left - permits were being put into limbo. Attendance fell off at most off-road events, for cars and bikes alike.

Still, one event flourished, year after year: The famed Barstow to Vegas cross country event. While not as demanding an event as the brutal Check Chase, Barstow delivered a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. After you rode your brains out, it was party time in the ultimate party town: Las Vegas.

The event grew in popularity and had 3500 riders at the 1974 running. Considering the huge number of entrants, B to V was run smoothly and efficiently. One of the things aiding this, was the fact that the course ran along side Interstate 15 much of the route and support crews and vehicles were able to function easily.

In 1975, however, Barstow to Vegas died. Correct that. It was murdered. Strangled, raped and maimed by the BLM and its web of rules. An entanglement of paper work and red tape disemboweled the sponsoring club, the San Gabriel Valley M.C., and brought them to their knees.

B to V was denied on environmental grounds. A massive government report was prepared and balley-hooed. Anyone who took the time to read this report would surely have gagged on his/her collective breakfast. Example: Two pages covered the effect of the race on the California Seagull. At that time, the Pacific Ocean was about 300 miles away.

Distorted facts, outright lies and fabrications were part and parcel of this so-called “study.” Those who knew the desert recognized it as a pack of lies. Those who made the rules, used it against the San Gabe club and killed Barstow to Vegas.

The riding public mourned the death of yet another classic.

All but one man, that is, The Phantom Duck of the desert. After studying the maps, he found out that there were existing legal roads and trails open between Barstow and Las Vegas. Roads that you and I could ride on, legally. Without a permit. As long as the letter of the law was followed.

And the law said that in groups of 50 or less riders, no permit was needed. Thus, in 1975, when the world though that B to V was dead, the First Unorganized Phantom Duck of the Desert Barstow to Vegas Trail Ride happened. In spite of dire warnings and threats from officials, a small group of riders rode from Barstow to Las Vegas on existing roads and trails, legally.

And they had a great time. After much high grade partying in Vegas, it was agreed by certain persons that, perhaps, this should become a yearly thing.

And, lo, it happened again in 1976 and once more in 1977. The BLM, watching the handful of riders each year engaging in the purest form of American protest, did little. But, when 1978 rolled around, they figured it was time to put a stop to the free ride. After all, no one was paying Big Brother for the privilege of riding of (their) land, so it had to cease. Right?

Wrong.

In spite of repeated threats to the Duck and the specter of arrest to anyone who would show up to ride, it appeared that B to V (unofficially) would happen again.

That's when the BLM pulled out their Ace in the Hole. The Courts. Even though they had no real reason to cancel the Unofficial Trail Ride, they went for the throat.

The CIA was dispatched and the identity of the Duck was established. They traced his person through a remotely located P.O. Box number in true spy fashion.

Soon, Louis Henry McKey, was in the white-hot, light of “justice.” He was slapped with a temporary restraining order with only 10 hours advance notice of the hearing. With absolutely no chance to even contact a lawyer or defend himself, he phoned this writer and a last hour effort was put forth. Our personal lawyer, George Stephan, was dragged out of a sound sleep and an almost spur-of-the-moment defense was established.

With legal juggling, the final decision was held off for a few days, enabling the Duck to gird his loins for the pending legal battle. Amazingly, when The Mighty Mallard emerged from the awesome halls of the Federal Courthouse, he had won permission to ride - as stipulated under existing laws. With 50 riders or less.

The BLM, fearing a sympathetic response from the riding public, did what most bullies do: they overreacted. After sending out press releases out to well over 400 newspapers (many of them hand delivered), they spread the word that anyone who showed up (over the 50 rider limit) would be subject to arrest and so forth.

Underestimating the will of the average biker, they figured that would dissuade anything big happening.

Guess what?

The word got out that the run was still on. Newspapers ran big stories on the Duck. And, on November 25,1978, 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 riding. They handed out incomplete copies of the court order and said that if more than 50 people rode with the Duck, they might (get that word “might”) 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?”

By Saturday morning, a small city had sprung up near the Harvard road off-ramp. Everywhere you looked, riders were sporting the signs of protest: plastic ducks taped to helmets, number plates lettered “quack, quack,” 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 out 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 trail ride. I'm going to Vegas. How about you?”

“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 1200 riders.

But, no matter what set of numbers you go by, the point was made. Just like the newscaster in 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 to suit the hard-core desert riders, much of the terrain was beautiful enough to take your breath away. Nearly 160 miles of public land was ridden that day.

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

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.

Some time after the event, the BLM from the dog that wags their fuzzy little tail. The Environmentalists.

Oh, how they howled! “Are you going to let that Duck get away with this?”

After enough pressure was applied, the BLM, like a dog chasing a stick, went for the Duck's throat. The rest is now history.

In the interim, the Phantom Duck of the Desert formed a three man corporation, with Louis H. Mckey as the President, Al FoIs as VP and Rick Sieman as Sec/Treasurer.

The goal of the corporation has been to fight the storm-trooper tactics of the BLM and the Forest Service in any way possible. The Duck has been disseminating information in BLM activities and keeping the public posted.

As of this writing, legal actions are being taken to stop the California Desert Conservation Act and RARE II, both programs designed to take away vast areas of land and turn them into wilderness. That means you can't use the land unless you back pack in.

Right now, the Phantom Duck of the Desert Corporation is in its formative stages. Grass roots. It depends on the riding public sending in a buck or more to help share the massive legal costs already gathered and the even bigger ones to come.

The Duck is going after the enemies of the riding public. In the only way that works. Through the complicated judicial system. The miserable, complex, expensive, but effective legal system.

Right now, according to a 1977 Powers survey, there are 19.6 million people in the U.S. who consider themselves bikers. Of this number, slightly more than half call themselves off-road enthusiasts, or, as we call ‘em dirt bikers.

If each and every one of these folks sent one small buck to arm the Duck, our organization could have an army of lawyers put to work in every major city in the country.

If a square foot of land was trying to be closed, we could step in and slap them with a Restraining Order.

It's a big dream, but one that could work.

Mike Goodwin has stepped forward and put it on the line. He's literally put a fortune right up front. Can you do any less? Will you send your buck to arm the Duck?

Think about it. Think about having your people swinging a massive legal and political club for you.

Think about it long and hard.

This is the only game in town. And, it could be the best one.