The curves and straightaways of the motorcyclist’s yellow brick road lead not to a mythical place of wizards and witches, but rather to Birmingham, Alabama. For that is where a rider’s Oz resides, better known in our real world as the Barber Vintage Motorsports Museum and Park.
Barber exists not as a magical, made-up motorcycle nirvana but rather a two-wheeled dreamy collective of dripping oil, Castrol fumes, and welded metal parts, clad within a leather jacket of historical tales that rev the imaginations of riders and non-riders alike. This, the world’s finest and largest collection of motorcycles, stands at the southwest tail of our region’s Appalachian Mountains.
While any time is a good time to tour this motorcycling wonderland, a trip during October’s annual three-day long Barber Vintage festival conjures a spell, morphing the museum’s enchanting metal-clad fairy tales into true-life stories. For that’s when 80,000 people and tens of thousands of brapping and rumbling motorcycles descend, pilgrimage-like, upon the Alabama attraction, many ferrying their own ghostly passengers of memories, stories, and history.
Imagine the rumbling and throbbing as myriad vintage and newer motorcycles flood the area with symphonic sounds; a deep baritone burble of two-cylindered cruisers amid the whine sung by four-cylindered sport bikes, punctuated by pops of backfiring from machines of yore. The odors of exhaust fumes mingle with that of burning oil, bratwurst and beer. The fashion spans from baby-boomer comfy to Cordura-clad protective onesies to the old-timer clichéd uniform of worn black leather jackets and chaps. Old motorcycles and new friends create an Oz-like camaraderie where Dorothy and her pals would certainly feel welcome.
Rally attendees may not be seeking courage, brains, a heart, or home like Dorothy and her compatriots did, but that doesn’t mean Vintage Days at the Barber complex doesn’t provide them.
Feats of courage can be seen and heard, thundering, and sometimes wheezing, from the weekend’s many racing activities. Here you’ll find all sorts of motorcycles and all sorts of motorcycle racing throughout Barber’s 880-acre campus, highlighted by a 2.38 mile, 17-turn road racing course, nicknamed “the Augusta National of Motorsports” for its beautiful, whimsical, park-like surroundings. Instead of bleachers, race-watchers can select from hillside, shaded, or grassy seating. Two aerial walkways linking the museum to the campus grounds also offer a unique bird’s eye view of the competition below.
The American Historic Racing Motorcycle Association, AHRMA, sponsors the vintage races. All the bikes lapping the track wear the weathered jackets of old age minus our new-fangled technology. The uncertainty involving kickstarters, drum brakes, and other old-fashioned tech adds to the races’ excitement, shining a spotlight on their jockeys’ courage.
In addition to the road course, the Barber complex featured a separate flat-track oval, where racers slid through their laps, thrilling the audience as they chased each other to the finish line.
Vintage motocross racing debuted at the 2024 festival, when the park unveiled its shiny, new motocross course, bringing yet a different type of racing excitement. Set amid a picturesque, wooded area, this track had all the favorite motocross challenges such as cambered hairpin turns, ramps, and numerous jumps. This freshman event during Vintage Days featured a jam-packed roster of competitors riding their vintage motorcycles full-throttle on the scenic track.
Running, racing, and generally living with finicky old motorcycles require more than a modicum of knowledge about these machines’ maintenance and care. Plus, many of these bikes have fascinating histories and stories their owners willingly relay to any listener. This wisdom, congeniality, and sharing, conjured at events like Vintage Days, would certainly please Dorothy’s scarecrow pal in his search for some smarts.
Some big-time racing knowledge and stories came from the “king” himself, as the festival’s Grand Marshal, racing legend Kenny Roberts, shared stories during a meet and greet at the museum. Roberts donated three bikes to the museum’s new, permanent World Champions exhibit that highlights the storied racing careers of Roberts and his son, Kenny Jr., as the only father-son duo to win the motorcycle grand prix world title.
Cameron called motorcycle racing a “high-speed intelligence test” and referred to Roberts as “an intellectual of motorcycles, an outstanding rider in any era who not only goes fast but exploits the best qualities of new machines.”
“It’s the mind that makes the lap times, not the wrist. My brain had more to do with winning a race than just going fast,” Roberts said.
Later Roberts fired up his former winning 1980 Yamaha YZR500 race bike, taking several turns around Barber’s beautiful road course. He sat for autograph sessions throughout the event, meeting and chatting with fans.
Pretty much any motorcycle item a collector could want could be found at the festival’s swap meet — one of the country’s largest — where more than 500 vendors displayed doodads, parts and trinkets while sharing expertise and stories to anyone willing to chat.
In the demo area Yamaha, Indian, Suzuki, Moto Guzzi, BMW (both street and off-road motorcycles), Royal Enfield, and more all offered riders the chance to saddle up and try out new models. Various vintage motorcycle clubs and organizations also held their own programs, talks, and shows during Vintage Days.
Barber’s Vintage Festival welcomes families with kids’ free entry policy and provides special activities for this new generation of riders. Looking around during Barber’s festival — all the colors, sounds, smells, the smiles, the laughs — could make a rider’s heart swell with two-wheeled glee. A convenient, free shuttle continuously circles the complex.
Often motorcyclists speak about the camaraderie of the road and shared passion, and Vintage Days concretely exemplifies that feeling. Standing in line for a hot dog, listening to the bands or watching the races, conversations bubble among new acquaintances with the familiar refrain, “Where are you from? What do you ride?” It’s an ease and enthusiasm that comes stems from a mutual love of all things two-wheeled, a reunion of riders, and in which even a man of tin could find some heart.
