Evolution. Science has gone along way in convincing me that we evolved from monkeys or fish or something. I get it, it makes perfect sense. The little talking DNA string from Jurassic Park totally made me understand the whole dinosaur thing. I mean, I am not stupid. I can even see where the bible-thumpers are coming from with baby jeebus pouring wine for the ancient homeless and birthing the world and stuff.
None of this explains the FUCKING SQUIRREL.
Continue reading The Guided Missile of the Animal Kingdom
6:30 AM Saturday Morning. Hung over. Rain pouring down in Concord. I stumble in the general direction of the computer to refresh the weather underground radar. If the wind was blowing the way the wind always blows, there would be two days of racing for me to shoot. Mother Nature, however, is a whore.
Continue reading I HATE you Mother Nature, but you will NEVER ruin an AFM event for me.
Summer is here, even though there is an 80% chance of rain for Monday. That means the local, and in some cases traveling, bike nights are starting to become more populated. I have met quite a few people at the Wednesday night meet held a Skipolini’s Pizza in Concord, and I probably would not be a part of 4TheRiders if I was not a regular. Motorbikes have been a huge part of my life for the last few years, and the almost family like friendships that I have developed and seen grow at bike nights helps to bring back my faith in humanity. I was even part of a wedding that held it’s reception at the Wednesday night meet.
Continue reading Bike Nights
Osso, Maico, Can Am, and Bultaco. Not the capital of Norway, a body shop, an airline and a new Mexican joint. These are brands of motorbikes that many have never heard of, but that does not mean that they are not fast in the right hands.
Continue reading Vintage Dirt
I mean really. I have an addiction. Most of you reading this share my addiction. The track… Continue reading There is a reason it rhymes with crack . . .
They say a picture is worth a thousand words, and I am lazy, so enjoy the next 20,000 plus words!
Continue reading San Francisco Supercross 2010
This is my third winter as a year round rider. The cold, wind, and rain fade into the background if you have good winter gear. I actually prefer the bike over the car, and given the choice of riding or taking my wife’s car I gear up 100% of the time. My wife does not share this view of the weather, so sometimes I am forced to endure the confines of a Subaru Legacy GT. Don’t get me wrong, I owe my life to a Subaru, and the Legacy has some nice features. Heated seats, satellite radio, cup holders, reverse…you know, all the same stuff as a Honda Goldwing.
I bring this up because I had to drive yesterday. The rain was fairly steady from Concord to Fremont, and since it was a weekend, I didn’t have to deal with the commuter traffic. We listened to the comedy channel on the satellite radio, there was Starbucks in the cup holders, and at risk of talking too much about my behind, the heated seats were functioning flawlessly. Once we got to our destination my wife brought up an interesting point…
40 minutes or so on the freeway, in the rain, and not once did I hit the switch for the wipers. I shrugged it off but paid more attention to it on the way home. George Carlin? Check. Peppermint Mocha? Check. Warm rump? Check. The wipers, however, remained off. I guess I prefer the way the world looks through my visor, and yesterday this was the best I could do.
Something is not right, and I think I have figured it out. Joe rode on the street. For realzies. At speed. For the one person that just woke up from a coma after highsiding on the street, Joe gave up street riding after the following picture was taken. Oddly enough, the caption was already there.
In the time that he has been back on the street, there have been no fewer than three notable earthquakes in the bay area, not to mention the one up in Humboldt county. You know, the one that “harshed the mellow” of countless potheads who were forced to move from their couches after their couches moved across the floor. I recieved the following email from Chauncy Phillips to my 4TheRiders email address.
Dude. Your boss Joe like totally owes me some cash bro. I was at home watching the Pauly Shore marathon on Turner classic movies when the house started to shake. And I don’t mean like when my roomie Maggie has gas, bro, I mean like my velvet Marley poster fell off the wall shaking. I was like wait? What? and then it hit me Bro, and I was all “EARTHQUAKE”, and then Maggie was all like “NO WAY” and boom. The bong goes flying out of my hand spilling bong water all over the carpet. I am going to send you the bill for half a carpet cleaning, I mean cuz we needed one anyway what with Maggies cat, but come on bro…bong water.
I am not paying for this stoner’s carpet Joe. I’m not saying to stop riding the street, I am just saying be safe out there, and maybe keep it under 6 on the Richter scale.
It started innocently enough, probably before I can even remember. No, now that I have had some time to think about it (I spent a few hours looking at old pictures… You will soon find that I have a bit of a problem focusing) I remember the exact moment, and have the picture to back it up. This picture was taken at a time in my life that holds very few but fond memories. I was four after all. I am fairly certain that this one event, documented in living color by my mom and one of those 110mm cameras with those bizarre tall flashes that you can flip over so you can use the other side 31 years ago is the first self promise I made to uhhhh…. myself.
I have long since forgotten what my voice sounded like back then, but I distinctly remember telling my mom that someday I was going to get my very own motorcycle. Granted I still had a bit of a journey.
Like training wheels for example. And Women. A short list of estrogen filled roadblocks. It started with my mom denying my repeated nagging for a mini dirt bike, not to mention the bigger dirt bike that she would not allow, or finally once I turned 16 the “ninja”(it might have been a Honda, my bike recognition ability was pretty bad back then too) that I wanted. I thought I had her once. I was 18. An adult. I still lived with my mom, but I was paying rent, and she no longer could keep me from my destiny. I even lived above a motorcycle dealership in Kenosha Wisconsin. Destiny. So why didn’t I get my first bike until I was over 30? I will spare you the details, but the 15 years that separated my living with my mother and my living with an SV650 in the garage were filled with financial hardships and estrogen roadblocks two and three… I now have an awesomely supportive wife, two bikes and two jobs (Technically all three if you count working turn 11 at Moto GP) that would not exist if it was not for motorbikes. My point? Not sure if I had one, but it is the off season for racing, I needed something to write about, and the holiday season usually brings back childhood memories. This year I was reminded that staying true to yourself pays off, it just sometimes takes 15 years.