FRED MILVERSTEDT

An old friend leaves the road.

I met Fred Milverstedt when I returned to Madison from Boston in 1977. Fred was one of the co-founders, along with Vince O’Hern, of Isthmus. The free newsweekly. That was the heyday of the free newsweekly. I had worked on the Boston Phoenix for five years. Fred was a sportswriter. He wrote frequently for the Wisconsin State Journal and Capital Times.

Fred lived in an apartment near the capital and walked to work. He was flamboyant, with red hair and bell bottom pants. We became friends when I signed on at Isthmus to be their music editor. That’s where I met Phil Davis, another of our little internet group, who succeeded me as music editor. Phil has been part of a number of prominent bands including Fire Town and The Emperors of Wyoming with Butch Vig. He is currently a member of the Ghost Particles, along with Dave Benton. Dave owned Mad City Music just off Capital Square.

In those days, Isthmus had offices in the old Club De Wash down by the railroad tracks, above a bar of the same name which was above a gay bar in the basement. Rod’s Club, owned by Rodney Scheel. Underwear hung from the overhead pipes. It was also next door to a karate studio where I met publisher Vince O’Hern, who remains a friend to this day. Vince was a bouncer at the Dangle, a strip club just off the square, owned by Al and Tom Reichenberger.

Fred was a frequent visitor. For editorial purposes. Fred became bored with Isthmus and left for a variety of jobs including publicist for Albion-swords.com, purveyor of fine blades, in New Glarus, Wisconsin. He also tended bar at the Fess Hotel.

Sometime in the eighties, inspired, perhaps by my example, Fred bought a motorcycle. A Honda Shadow 1100. Fred was a little guy, smaller than me, but the Shadow had a low seat and he handled it well. We would go for rides together. As any Wisconsin cyclist knows, Wisconsin is one of the most beautiful, cycle-friendly states in the nation. At least from spring to fall. We went on a ride down to Mirror Lake one day with another friend, one who had served on the Madison City Council and had felt the siren song of two wheels. We veered off a highway trunk onto a side road and our fresh riding friend went wayyyyyyyyyyyyy out in a great loop that brought him into the center of oncoming traffic. It’s a miracle he survived. He sold the bike soon after.

Fed and I would often hold court at the O’Cayz Corral because it had a porch in back where you could watch your bike. In 2003 I moved from Madison to Fort Collins, CO.

Fred had a son in Boulder. A bicycling enthusiast. Fred upgraded from his Shadow to a Valkyrie, a six-cylinder bike that’s one of the heaviest on the road. It has a low center of gravity and you’re fine if you’re careful. Fred rode out here. Kim Yee, with whom I trained for over twenty years, also has a Valkyrie. We rode down to Lyons to meet Fred for lunch. Fred was enthusiastic then, living in St. Paul with his girlfriend Barb. We had a great time as bikers usually do when they get together.

Fred wrote a book about his adventures.

On one level, One More Ride is a collection of stories and remembrances of a life spent on unique motorcycle journeys on the highways and byways of the Upper Midwest and beyond.But One More Ride from Fred Milverstedt is more than a litany of motorcycle rides: it's a remembrance of a noteworthy life, with various adventures and misadventures laid out in a fascinating series of stories. In One More Ride, the story is the thing: life, after all, is nothing more than a series of stories and remembrances, and this set of tales details a life spent on the edge or, at the least, a life spent on the back of a motorcycle. From the Introduction: Riding motorcycles, like any other dynamic activity, can be fraught with peril. By contrast, for every time on a given ride you encounter a difficult, sometimes dangerous situation, there are hundreds of times when the rides are magnificent, almost transcendent, and you return home safely and happy as a bug without so much as even a cop coming your way and checking his radar to see if you might have been speeding. These rides, blissful as they may be, are not exactly the kind of stuff that makes for a well-paced, exciting and entertaining read. It would be boring. And given the kind of writer I am, and the kind I am not, it would be worse.Combining fond remembrances of growing up in Wisconsin with some frank assessments of life on a motorcycle today, One More Ride is the chronicle of a unique life, filled with frank talk and a unrivaled writing story, perfect for both motorcycle enthusiasts and those yearning for a life on the road. Reading One More Ride is pure pleasure. With an almost magical narrative voice Fred Milverstedt celebrates his lifelong love of bikes and fellow bikers and captures the unique spirit of men and women who feel compelled to do things like rack up 100,000 miles sitting astride an exposed engine and two wheels

We have a lively online chat group that includes several old friends, all with roots in Madison. The other day Fred’s longtime partner Barb phoned me. She seemed hesitant. She told me that last Sunday Fred had taken his own life. I regret I had not seen him in years.