Super Hunky:

My Dinner With Super Hunky

Rick Sieman's Monkey Butt: Two Views

Rick Sieman's Monkey Butt: Two Views

by Doug Meyer

"With that very first issue, my whole life changed..."

As a kid with a Honda CT70, I was starved for real dirt bike action to read about and study. I would ocassionally find an off-road test or race report in CycleWorld or Cycle, but they were few and far between and read like ad copy. I would even check Popular Mechanics for the odd press release for the latest Hodaka or other tidbits. I had never seen Cycle News and had only heard second-hand stories of the great European marques. There were rumors amongst myself and the local 7th graders that a Husky and a CZ could be seen at the "Saucer," the local vacant-lot MX track, but I never saw them.

Then, completely without warning, Dirt Bike magazine and Rick Sieman appeared on the magazine rack. With that very first issue, my whole life changed. I pored over those first issues cover to cover. The photos, the stories that helped create the off-road jargon, the characters real and imagined ­ it all converged on the pages of those first issues and cemented my passion for dirt bikes and, more importantly, dirt bike people. The magazine could be irreverent, downright silly or dead-ass serious. Though I have never met Rick Sieman, I'll bet that's also a fair description of him.

Monkey Butt is an autobiography and a history of the motorcyle industry rolled into one. Sieman's stories of his first motorcyle purchase and subseqent escapades while stationed at a military base are a hoot. They're sure to remind everyone of that terribly steep and exciting learning curve. Sieman's description of the blind optimism and energy that took him from being a cub ad salesman for a chopper rag to founder and editor of Dirt Bike magazine is pure Horatio Alger. His views on the publishing business, the motorcycle industry and politics are straight from the hip, and the book is full of great stories about working, riding and making friends. I loved it.

­David Wells

"When dirt bikes became an actual sub-species of motorcycle and 'dirt biking' emerged as a verb, Rick Sieman created Dirt Bike magazine..."

Does GYDBT mean anything to you? How about the name Pete Szylagi? Do you know who the Phantom Duck of the Desert is? If these things hold any meaning for you, then you know who Super Hunky is and will recognize his name and "unique" literary style.

During the late '60s and through the '70s, when dirt bikes became an actual sub-species of motorcycle and "dirt biking" emerged as a verb, Rick Sieman created Dirt Bike magazine. Sieman did everything but own Dirt Bike during the magazine's prime time. He came up with the original concept, sold this idea to its first publisher, wrote it, pasted it up, sold ad space in it and saw the first issue published. From there, Dirt Bike became one of the most widely read and certainly one of the most entertaining motorcycle magazines ever published.

Monkey Butt is "Super Hunky" Rick Sieman's story of the last 30 or so years. It starts when almost all dirt bikes were Triumphs and you could ride virtually anywhere. It ends in the present, when planning an off-road event requires Advice of Counsel.

Monkey Butt's 636 pages really encompasses three stories. One is that of Dirt Bike, filled with all kinds of inside stuff about the magazine publishing business and the strange creatures who inhabit that world. Another is an examination of Sieman's transformation from dirt bike enthusiast to political activist. Sieman gives a detailed explanation of the legal wrangling that took place around the cancellation of the famous Barstow-to-Vegas desert race and the infamous protest ride that resulted in his arrest (on national TV) by bumbling sheriffs and the BLM.

The third side of this book is really the most enjoyable, because it shows Super Hunky at his best, talking about dirt bikes, dirt bikers and dirt bike riding. Reprints of Sieman's hilarious Dirt Bike columns from the last 30 years are interspersed throughout the book. These passages are really what made it enjoyable for me.

Nothing is quite as much fun as sharing somebody else's pain and misfortune and saying, "Oh, yeah! Been there, done that!" I've spent many hours laughing at Hunky's prose and now I know why. He's a funny guy.