Kawasaki 1600, a set on Flickr.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Anticipation
I just finished packing my clothes and camping gear. Tomorrow, I'll work half a day, come home and have lunch with my Other Half and Baby Girl and load up my bike. Then some brothers and a sister will show up at my place, and we'll hit the road - off to our club's annual members-only, mandatory attendance, club birthday run, fondly referred to as "Mandatory".
I'm pretty excited: This is our annual Gypsy MC Family Reunion. We're spread out pretty far and wide, so this is the only chance some of us get to see each other all year. Plus, I'm trying to get all my debt paid off, so this is the only out of town event I'm going to this year, so you could say I'm pretty fucking excited.
I'll come back with some pictures, and hopefully inspiration to write more, and maybe even stories to share.
I'm pretty excited: This is our annual Gypsy MC Family Reunion. We're spread out pretty far and wide, so this is the only chance some of us get to see each other all year. Plus, I'm trying to get all my debt paid off, so this is the only out of town event I'm going to this year, so you could say I'm pretty fucking excited.
I'll come back with some pictures, and hopefully inspiration to write more, and maybe even stories to share.
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Protection or Fashion?
Full face helmet: check
Full finger gloves: check
Textile, armored mesh jacket: check
Good for you, Ricky Rocketrider. You've
prudently chosen to make sure your vital organs and skin are
protected in case some jackass, blind, cell phone talking, text
messaging soccer mom in an SUV knocks you off your bike.
Wait. What the fuck? Shorts? On a
motorcycle? You're kidding,
right? Okay, guys who wear no protective clothing, and just hop on in
shorts and a tank top to ride to the gym or whatever I can sort of
understand. I don't agree with it, but at least they're consistent.
But you....I don't get it. You're all encased in safety, but only
above the waist. You make it look like you're concerned about road
rash, because you wear the jacket even when it's blazing hot.
Dude,
if you're worried about the skin on your arms, you definitely
need to worry about your leg skin.
If you go down sliding and stay on the bike, your arms may get lucky
and avoid the asphalt altogether. Even if you come off the bike, you
may only get minor scrapes on your arms. You can argue about whether
or not to wear a helmet – your head may or may not even touch the
ground. I've only gone down twice in 22 years of riding – once
with, once without a helmet. I was lucky - neither my head nor my
helmet hit the pavement. But the one guarantee about dropping a bike
is that. Your. Leg. Will. Scrape. Along. The. Asphalt. Possibly with
the weight of the bike on it. Wanna get an idea of what that would
feel like? Have the biggest guy you know put all his weight on a
cheese grater and rub it on your bare thigh. Then do the same thing
over a pair of Levi's.
If you're smart
enough to pilot a motorcycle in Austin traffic without dying, you
have to be smart enough to realize all this. Which brings me to the
conclusion that your flashy jacket and helmet aren't really for
protection.
They're a god
damned fashion statement.
Put some pants on,
you fucking poser.
(reblogged from http://handgrenadesandhorseshoes.blogspot.com/)
(reblogged from http://handgrenadesandhorseshoes.blogspot.com/)
A Rare Re-Blog...
But I had to share this, because it's so damn cool.
This is probably the coolest, best looking custom vintage bike I've ever seen.
Check it out:
http://www.bikeexif.com/vincent-black-lightning
This is probably the coolest, best looking custom vintage bike I've ever seen.
Check it out:
http://www.bikeexif.com/vincent-black-lightning
Thursday, May 10, 2012
"It's What We Do"
I was starting to think all the old customs were fading away. One in particular.
I try to never pass a motorcyclist stopped on the roadside unless they see me slowing down and wave me on. Even though I'm no mechanic, sometimes all that's needed is a third hand. Or even a quick trip to the next gas station for a gas can and some gas. However, more than once, I've been broken down on the side of the road, and had jackasses ride right past me, grinning and waving, like I had just decided the side of a busy highway was the perfect place for a spontaneous picnic. Alone. With no food.
Well, I'm proud to say the tradition lives on. This morning, on the way to work, I saw a bike stopped on the shoulder of the median. I pulled over and started talking to the guy, and it seemed to me like his bike wasn't charging, because it just died on him, and when he'd hit the starter button, all the lights would die. About the time I figured that out, a second rider had pulled over to check on us. There was a barbecue restaurant/gas station a few dozen yards ahead on the right. The problem was that Highway 360, two lanes each way, was bumper to bumper and almost at a standstill. There was the occasional gap, when the traffic got a green light and the cars from the last light hadn't caught up yet. As we were making our plans, I noticed a city work truck pull up behind us. It was being driven by none other than one of my club brothers! So, not just one, but three riders stopped to help a total stranger. I went back and told him the situation, and that we were just waiting for a break in the traffic. He said "Oh, I can get you a break in traffic." He blocked both lanes, and we pushed the bike to the station, which had a steep enough driveway to get the bike push started and send him on his way.
I thanked my brother for stopping, and his response said it all:
"No problem. It's what we do."
Yup. It is.
I try to never pass a motorcyclist stopped on the roadside unless they see me slowing down and wave me on. Even though I'm no mechanic, sometimes all that's needed is a third hand. Or even a quick trip to the next gas station for a gas can and some gas. However, more than once, I've been broken down on the side of the road, and had jackasses ride right past me, grinning and waving, like I had just decided the side of a busy highway was the perfect place for a spontaneous picnic. Alone. With no food.
Well, I'm proud to say the tradition lives on. This morning, on the way to work, I saw a bike stopped on the shoulder of the median. I pulled over and started talking to the guy, and it seemed to me like his bike wasn't charging, because it just died on him, and when he'd hit the starter button, all the lights would die. About the time I figured that out, a second rider had pulled over to check on us. There was a barbecue restaurant/gas station a few dozen yards ahead on the right. The problem was that Highway 360, two lanes each way, was bumper to bumper and almost at a standstill. There was the occasional gap, when the traffic got a green light and the cars from the last light hadn't caught up yet. As we were making our plans, I noticed a city work truck pull up behind us. It was being driven by none other than one of my club brothers! So, not just one, but three riders stopped to help a total stranger. I went back and told him the situation, and that we were just waiting for a break in the traffic. He said "Oh, I can get you a break in traffic." He blocked both lanes, and we pushed the bike to the station, which had a steep enough driveway to get the bike push started and send him on his way.
I thanked my brother for stopping, and his response said it all:
"No problem. It's what we do."
Yup. It is.
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