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Clem Salvadori Is On His Final Ride

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    Clem Salvadori Is On His Final Ride

    CJS Craig has informed us that his close friend, riding companion and well-known author Clem Salvadori has passed away. Clem's health was not good the past year. His wife's death (Sue) several months ago was probably the turning point. I met Clem only once a few years ago when I rode with the wild bunch from Southern California on their annual Death Valley rally. I spent every moment with him that I could for three days then. He was the real deal.

    Like our own Pete Talahasse, Clem had ridden everywhere: USA, Mexico, and far more exotic places. Unlike Pete, he made a reasonable living doing all this. He was a regular contributor and columnist for several motorcycle magazines, notably Rider, and wrote about a half-dozen books that were popular among motorcyclists. In person, he was personable and a humorous story teller.

    Craig CJS was particularly close to him. CJS was a regular contributor to the old iBMW site and many of us knew him from that. You might drop him a line.

    #2
    I remember reading many of his well written and informative articles.

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      #3
      Thanks Tyson. Clem was my closest friend and favorite riding companion. We met in December 1980 and went on our first ride together in April '81 to Joshua Tree National Park.

      Amusing story - the first of dozens. I met Clem in the morning in Laguna Beach, CA where he lived at the time. We rode down to San Juan Capistrano and headed east on CA Rte. 74, commonly the "Ortega Highway", one of CA's notorious "racer roads", a 30 mile or so stretch of twisty road the lead to Lake Elsinore, (featured in the movie "On Any Sunday".) When we got to the last traffic light before the road moved from suburbs to rural, Clem lifted the visor on his helmet and said, "In case we get separated, I'll meet you at the 'Lookout', about 25 miles up the road on the left, you can't miss it.

      I remember thinking, "In case we get separated, what can of bullshit is that?" Well, the light turned green and Clem took off like he was shot out of a canyon. Being a recent NYC transplant, where you exceeded the speed limit by a little some of the time, and by a lot rarely, with NY cops and radar behind every bush, I was shocked.

      I didn't see Clem for about another 20+ minutes, when I finally found the Lookout. He was halfway through his second cup of coffee. Over the years, I learned to keep up with him, and enjoyed many adventures, misadventures, laughs and tears. I last saw him in March, shortly after his wife, Sue passed away. I was the best man at their wedding in the spring of '89. Clem was diminished, physically from a stroke a couple of years back, and from Sue's death.

      Friends are the family you chose. I will miss him, and will let his memory be a blessing.

      This photo captures his spirit, and will be how I will remember him in my mind's eye. I will always remember him like this...
      Last edited by cjs350; 3 days ago.

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      #4
      Craig, nice photo of Clem. The wine he holds is just a prop. The smile and the winkle in his eye are the true subjects of the photo. Sweet!

      Comment


        #5
        Clement Salvadori
        No Thru Road - 416 pages
        Moto-journalist Clement Salvadori has been riding motorcycles since the age of 15 and traveling all of his life, accumulating well over a million miles in the saddle across more than 70 countries on six continents. No Thru Road covers 30 different trips he has taken, to places like Afghanistan and Zimbabwe, since his first ride through western Europe in 1957. The stories are all original, though the subject may have appeared as a magazine article in a very different rendition.The book will appeal to adventure-travel enthusiasts and to motorcyclists and travelers of all persuasions. Adventurous riders will thoroughly appreciate the book, as in the description of kick-starting a 500cc single - never easy to do - at 17,200 feet in the Tibetan Himalayas. Or going up to Cape Tribulation in Australia's Queensland in 1974 when the only access was via a once-a-week ferry across the Daintree River. Or riding a bike to Pamplona, Spain, in 1960 in order to run with the bulls. Activists who want to get on their motorcycles and ride down into Mexico's Copper Canyon will enjoy the book, as will the arm-chair traveler who is happy reading about traveling from Peru's Great Ica Desert over the Andes Mountains to the Amazon basin. Clement's adventures are arranged so the reader can open the book to any chapter, be it India, Nepal, the Sahara, New Zealand or Viet Nam, and not have to worry about following a thread. Lots of adventures, lots of good reading, lots of photos and illustrations. This book promises excellent entertainment and a glimpse into life as a moto-journalist.
        About the author (2014): Clement Salvadori was raised and schooled mainly in New England, graduating from Harvard College with a BA in government. Being the age of the draft, he did his military service as a demolitions expert with the U.S. Army's Special Forces (Airborne). College and army out of the way, he then traveled extensively in Africa and Asia until heading to graduate school at the Monterey Institute of International Studies in Monterey, California. With a master's degree in Southeast Asian studies in hand he joined the U.S. Department of State, which assigned him to Vietnam for a year and a half and then was kind enough to post him to Italy. However, not being very happy as a diplomat, he tendered his resignation in 1973 and set off on his motorcycle to take a trip around the world. He was quite experienced with the art of motorcycling, having learned to ride when he was 15, buying his first one when he got his license at age 16, and taking his first long trip around Western Europe when he was 17. While riding north from Panama in 1975 he stopped off at San Miguel de Allende in Mexico to sign up for a Master of Fine Arts degree (ABT) at the Instituto Allende, with the notion of learning how to earn a living by writing. In 1980 a motorcycle magazine in Laguna Beach, California, offered him a staff job. He accepted. Seven years later he chose to go free-lance. He has published upwards of a thousand articles and five books.
        Last edited by wildbears; 2 days ago.

        Comment


        • 955i
          955i commented
          Editing a comment
          Thanks for posting this, Bears. Folks that haven't heard of or read Clem, can get a climpse of him through your post.

        #6
        I enjoyed his articles in Rider for many years.
        Lee
        Iowa
        2022 R1250RS White Sport

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          #7
          A life well lived.
          ain't skeered

          Comment


          • 955i
            955i commented
            Editing a comment
            Indeed!

          #8
          Originally posted by 955i View Post
          Thanks for posting this, Bears. Folks that haven't heard of or read Clem, can get a climpse of him through your post.
          You can find this, and many of his other books on Amazon,

          Comment


          • 955i
            955i commented
            Editing a comment
            It's now definitely on my reading list (like quite a few others I have enjoyed from your recimmendations, Craig.

            (BTW, I used to be able to draw out from memory, a map of the Ortega Highway, with tight turns and slick spots noted. That was quite a few years ago during and after my college years at Chapman Cillege.)

          • wildbears
            wildbears commented
            Editing a comment
            Looked up the Ortega Highway. Looks like a real challenge.

          #9
          Back in the day, there were very few house along the entire route of the Ortega Highway. Certainly no subdivisions. It was a place that was pretty "safe to be unsafe." I was going hard downhill on what we called "the fast section" when I inadvertantly locked up the front disc brake of the then newly released Yamaha RD-350. It was much more sensitive than my CB-750. I did an unintended "stoppy" that scared me to death. The rear wheel came down just in time for me to make the sharp chicane like curve and avoid the barbed wire fence starring me in the face. I learned a good leson that day!

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            #10
            Sorry to hear. As Susan said. "A life well lived" That's all we can ask for.

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