25 Years of RoadRUNNER

In the summer of 1999, my parents Christian and Christa, my brother Manuel, and I moved from Austria to North Carolina for a change in scenery and, perhaps, a quieter life. In addition to their photography business, my parents brought their motorcycles across the pond.

My dad had his 1997 Triumph Tiger, and my mom her 1999 Speed Triple. If we weren’t shooting a wedding on the weekend, we’d all explore our new home state.

In 2001, my parents decided to chase the American Dream and started RoadRUNNER Motorcycle Cruising & Touring (as the magazine was called at first). The inaugural year saw three issues: spring, summer, and fall. The next year, we included all of the seasons. In the third year, we added a fifth issue focused on dream tours across the world.

Since 2004, we have been a bimonthly magazine. During those early years, Manuel and I started riding motorcycles as well. I’d like to share with you some of my favorite memories from the RoadRUNNER journey.

Bootstrap Operation

RoadRUNNER got its start in a basement. Our advertising director got one room so he could talk on the phone, while the five remaining members of the team were packed in another one. My mom handled administration, my dad and Chris Myers (our first full-time journalist) tried to write amidst the chaos, my brother was often in the office creating custom software and applications, and I did data entry.

For the most part, it worked out until I started processing credit cards on those old manual machines. Each number was accompanied by a beep that only seemed to get louder with every button press. That’s when the office cleared out and I had it all to myself.

During the first few years, all of the magazines were delivered on pallets by a semitruck. It was always quite the spectacle in our neighborhood. I would hand-stuff magazines into paper envelopes, seal them with a moist sponge, affix address labels, make stacks of 60, put them in USPS bags (more like large plastic sacks), load up the Ford Windstar that was capable of the best minivan burnouts, and deliver them to our local post office. Those renewal letters you got until 2010 or so? Handfolded and sealed by yours truly.

Eventually, we moved to a small office in Winston-Salem, before upgrading to a much bigger office downtown—complete with a photo studio—a few years later. Currently, we’re back to a small office in the suburbs again. It’s nice and quiet, and closer to empty, curvy roads.

Favorite Memories

My first motorcycle was a handful. I was 15 when my dad brought home a 1995 Honda VFR750. I quickly learned to respect the powerful machine, and although I wouldn’t put my own kids on such a bike, I credit this as the first step to my passion for motorcycles. After a few weeks, Troy, one of our first journalists, hit a deer on the Honda. He didn’t go down, but the bike’s bodywork broke into many pieces. Holes were drilled, zip ties were strategically placed, and I didn’t have to worry about being the first to scratch it up.

Whenever my dad came back from a motorcycle trip, his first comment was always, “We have to move there.” He would go into full research mode about the area for around two weeks, but ultimately we never had to pack our bags. There were a lot of places he would’ve been ready to uproot for again.

One day, we got a package in the office with a relatively torn up saddlebag. We unzipped the luggage, only to find a bunch of dirty laundry. Who did we tick off? You see, back in the day, we did a lot of tours on sport bikes with soft saddlebags. During a tour in who knows where, Chris Myers straight up lost a bag while riding. A helpful stranger picked up the bag, found an address inside, and shipped it back to us. I wonder how much of Chris’ dirty laundry they had to go through to find our address.

The best memories always revolve around people. When we’re on the road, especially in the early 2000s, we were an oddity. This was still the time of paper maps. As soon as we pulled out a map, locals would wander over to share tips on the best roads.

Marisa, our managing editor, was in Arkansas last year and ran into a guy at a gas station who had met my dad many years ago. He was telling Marisa about him, unaware of the connection. It shows how every interaction we have can be a positive one, and one that the other party will remember forever.

The Boss

Alright, so my dad gets a lot of credit for RoadRUNNER. After all, the magazine was his idea. But—as they say—behind every great man there’s a great woman, and the same applies here. It’s one thing to have ideas and another one to turn them into reality. That’s where my mom came in. She was the filter, the calculator, and—ultimately—the decision-maker. She’s the youngest of an entrepreneurial family’s five daughters, and her acute business sense is what allowed our little family business to grow.

Sadly, just five years into RoadRUNNER, we tragically lost my dad in a sidecar accident in 2005. Instead of giving up, my mom steered the ship.

The second obstacle was the Great Recession from 2007-2009. We survived. My mom navigated an industry dominated by men while putting two sons through college. She started an organized motorcycle tour business on the side and grew it from one yearly tour to 12. I still don’t know how she found the time for that one.

Then came the COVID pandemic, a time of extraordinary uncertainty. Somehow, we emerged as the only motorcycle travel magazine sold on newsstands nationwide.

Many of you have met my mom at events like the Honda Hoot, the Americade, the IMS shows, and, of course, our own Touring Weekend. You have seen the force that drives RoadRUNNER onward. Personally, I always thought she’d be a shoe-in for the various hall of fame organizations in our industry. She’ll be the first to tell you, though, that she doesn’t care about any of that. She just likes the hustle of running the magazine. Without her, there would be no RoadRUNNER.

The Road Ahead

That said, there wouldn’t be RoadRUNNER without you, either. Your support has allowed us to keep going and scout the best places to ride, so we can share our recommendations. Thank you for your support, donations, and telling your riding community about what we do.

Over and over again, you’ve told us that you prefer to read RoadRUNNER in print. Although printing a magazine these days comes with a new set of challenges, we’re set up for the future. We have no plans of slowing down.

You will see additional efforts to grow our website and YouTube channel, but our primary goal is to deliver the best bimonthly magazine to your mailbox to help you make your own riding plans.

In celebration of our 25th year, we are giving away a motorcycle! Enter to win a 2025 BMW R 1300 GSA Triple Black by clicking the button below.