Saturday, June 29, 2013

Desert camping




Friday, June 28, 2013

The good life

Yesterday and this morning

I don't think he's gonna make it to 88 mph.

Thee Cormans

And of course a Mr. Miyagi sighting

Thursday, June 27, 2013

What I did today


Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Monday, June 24, 2013

Heavy duty bug guts

Wish I could say it was a good day, but broke down in Parachute Colorado and limped my bike to Grand Junction. It was suppose to be a 688 mile day, but ended up being 188 spending time fixing my bike. Then I discovered the wire for my left rear blinker was torn completely out while fixing my other problems. The wire  was jammed up under the fender. I have a good idea how that happened. I knew the bulb wasn't working and replaced it then realizing what happened. I'll fix it when I get west. It's good to go for now.

Sunday, June 23, 2013

Sprocket Cover


is not a word I'll use often when it comes to free vintage 2-strokes with titles.

Saturday, June 22, 2013

I know

I look like a massive idiot all the time. Just wanted to post up a pick of me being a poser in front of the Fu

Sunday, June 16, 2013

jap crap

It was sometime late winter of 1979, about three months after the 'incident' at the plastic stamping plant when it occurred to him that the schrapnel not only was not getting better, but in fact it was getting worse, much worse.  Small chunks of Captain Crunch toy submarine parts would work them selves out of the backside, mostly at night.  Hard to sleep when your spitting out red, blue, yellow and green pieces of captain crunch toy submarines from the fatty part of your butt and lower back.  The doctors did all they could, telling him to be greatful that it was not his pretty face that took the brunt of the explosion.  

These submarines were about three inches long by about an inch tall, they would be the prize in the bottom of the box of breakfast cereal.  One would put baking sode in the sub, then drop it in a bucket of water.  Hours upon hours of enjoyment was had watching the Captain dive, then resurface his submarine.  Never was there more a heroic sea-man, than Captain Crunch.

The scars were deep, both physically as well as emotionally, but none-the-less, we trudge on. To this day, sometimes when the conditions are just right, as the sun sets in the east and the jackalopes sing their songs of revolution, you can hear the echos of the great explosion ring through the hillsides of Capacoa county.  Keep on riding your jap crap and fuck all the haters.

Thursday, June 13, 2013


Ride into the tree and flip.  Just like that.