ON THE PEGS
MARISA MCINTURFF
Something to Hold Onto
There’ s something special about holding a motorcycle magazine in your hands. You can feel the weight of it, turn the pages, fold down a corner to mark something you want to come back to, and leave it on the coffee table or tucked beside your favorite chair. A magazine is a physical thing, and that seems increasingly meaningful in a world where so much of what we read, watch, and experience exists behind a screen.
Since 1974, Rider has been telling stories about motorcycles and the people who ride them. When the magazine was launched, the world was considerably different. There was no internet, no social media, no smartphone, and no endless stream of information competing for our attention. A motorcycle magazine arrived in the mailbox, and you made time for it. You read it at the kitchen table, in the garage, or on the porch. You studied the photographs, read the stories, and probably imagined yourself somewhere else, riding a road you had never seen.
That was part of what made motorcycle magazines special, but I think there was something deeper at work. You see, Rider was developed around the idea that motorcycles are not simply machines to be evaluated, rather they are a means of experiencing the world. The motorcycle could take you somewhere, but the destination was only part of the story. The road, the scenery, the people you encountered, and the unexpected moments along the way were what made the journey worth remembering.
That philosophy has carried Rider through more than five decades, and in some ways feels more important now than ever. We live in an increasingly virtual world. We can communicate with people on the other side of the planet instantly and navigate without knowing where we are. There is tremendous value in that technology, but there is also something wonderfully grounding about an experience that isn’ t digitized.
That is one of the reasons we love motorcycles in the first place. Riding engages all of your senses and requires you to be present in a way that few other forms of, well, anything do. You feel the engine beneath you and the wind against your helmet. You smell freshly cut grass, pine trees, barbecue drifting from a roadside restaurant, and the rain as it approaches. When the weather turns bad, you don’ t simply swipe past it. You get wet.
... there is also something wonderfully grounding about an experience that isn’ t digitized.
Of course, we love telling people about our rides afterward. We take photographs, record videos, share routes, and write about the places we’ ve visited. There is great pleasure in being able to revisit a memorable journey and share it with other riders. But those things are ultimately a record of something that happened in the real world. The real treat is being there.
I think that is also why I still believe there is something important about print. Rider is one of a shrinking number of motorcycle magazines that continue to exist as physical publications, and I don’ t think that is something we should take for granted. There is value in the new ways we consume information, but there is also value in the old ways. A printed magazine asks you to slow down for a little while.
Looking back doesn’ t necessarily mean wanting to go backwards. Sometimes it means recognizing what was good about an earlier time and making sure we don’ t lose it simply because technology has given us something new.
That is how I view the legacy of Rider. More than 50 years of stories, photographs, motorcycles, roads, and people have created an incredible record from half a century of motorcycling. However, the real legacy is that motorcycling is fundamentally about experience. The machines will change, the roads will change, and the way we communicate will continue to evolve, but there will always be something distinctive about throwing a leg over a motorcycle and heading out to see what is around the next bend.
It is a privilege to help carry that legacy forward, and I don’ t take that responsibility lightly. Rider will continue doing what it has done for generations of motorcyclists: telling the stories that inspire us to ride, introducing us to places worth discovering, and capturing, as best we can, the feeling of being out there on two wheels.
I hope you’ ll continue to find inspiration in these pages. Maybe a story will send you searching for a road you’ ve never ridden, or a photograph will remind you of a trip you took years ago. Maybe you’ ll simply pick up the magazine on a quiet afternoon, settle into a comfy chair, and spend some time thinking about where you’ d like to go next.
Then, when the time comes, put the magazine down, walk out to the garage, and start your engine. After all, the best stories are still the ones we get to live ourselves.
4 / OCTOBER 2026 / RIDERMAGAZINE. COM