Iron & Air Magazine - Issue 20

$15.00 $11.25

It should not be a surprise that we at Revival continue to hold quality print material in high esteem. We consider Iron & Air to typify the quality craftsmanship that we pursue every day, albeit through a different medium. They draw the same connection, stating as their mission “We salute the builders who publish that freedom to the world with each garage built creation they roll out of their shops. Humbly, we consider ourselves kindred spirits – a publisher of a different kind – and we seek to do the same each day, not by mass-producing the next motorcycle magazine, but through the telling of this story.”  

Clearly, they get it. Each issue of Iron & Air surpasses the last in superior writing and transcendent photography, and Issue 20 is no different.  

Behind the Lens- This iteration features an interview with Nick Veasey, an artist who works with X-rays on a scale ranging from gargantuan to minute. Among the most interesting of his works are full-scale images of motorcycles, with and without riders, that capture the elegance of design in incredible detail. By illustrating how rider melds with ride, Veasey elevates the craft of the build to near-divinity. (p. 24-25) 

Colt Wrangler- In a nod to our annual Handbuilt Motorcycle Show, this issue also features a Harley Sportster built by Colt Wrangler. A native son to Texas (could he be otherwise, with a name like that?) with a rodeo background, Wrangler’s captivation with motorcycles began as his interest in bull riding waned. This profile explores how ingenuity can outwit austerity throughout the creative process. (p. 38-39) 

Lost and Found- For the adventurers in Iron & Air’s readership, photographer Aaron Brimhall documents the trails and trials of his trip to Indonesia. We’ve all had a trip that couldn’t have gone less as planned, and this story exemplifies how that can sometimes be a good thing. (p. 48-49) 

Motos in Moab- A little vignette tucked into the back of the magazine, this essay manages to capture the agony and ecstasy of what it means to live a life on two wheels. Ostensibly the author describes a small motorcycle gathering in southern Utah, but more accurately he waxes poetic about hardship, community, and memory. (p. 90-91)