Sunday, September 26, 2010

Rumble at Ralph's






























Nice Autumn weather Saturday. Took a ride to Worcester, Mass. for a Rumble. Chick rode the fender all the way and a new dude from Stafford rode along with. He had a CB550 he has chopped up a bit. Went a different way through Mass which made the ride that much more enjoyable.
Butch and Squirrel showed up later on and we had a backroad burn home with exciting moments of no pavement on the high speed roads in Woodstock. The bum life is still great.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Brooklyn Invitational - Indian Larry Party

I rode to New York City yesterday to the two events in Brooklyn. It was like all the bike blogs I read on the internet became reality, all in one neighborhood. Great day, nice people, free beer.

At the big tree Mobil rest area I ran into Craig Dietz. I first met him 5 years ago at the same place going to the same destination.


His girl rode all the way without bitching, I need to find one like that.


We arrived ahead of schedule, so we checked out the Indian Larry place.

















Phil Fazin hooked me up with the magic wristband which led to free beer. The beer chick was very nice.










I would have to guess this is Richie Pan heading off down Union Avenue.


Kristen got some punctuation.


Unlike the leatherback, worn out coke whores that populate my local bike scene, most of the talent in New York is hot.


Cheap cafe racers are pretty big in the city.


Around 3:30 we headed over to the Invitational, which was held at the ironic location of Indian Larry's real shop.








Mark, the winner of the Hot Rod Riot 5 golden wrench, rolls in.




So anti, he wears his lid backwards.












Hot girls and cold beer.




The invitational was in an art gallery/photo studio.
















It got dark and I was pretty fucked up on the jap beer. Time to roll home. The Whitestone Bridge traffic sucked. I lost the rear master and had to split lanes with my feeble front brake. Made it to big tree and all the people I rudely passed told me I had no tail light. Cut my finger to shreds when the bulb broke, my thinned blood pouring out like a fountain. The pump island looked like a crime scene. Tourists grabbed their kids and fled from the rest room as I tried to degrease my finger enough to install a Band Aid.

Craig, who had left way earlier for a Times Square tour, pulled up to the pumps as I bled and we rolled back to CT together.
Made it home in time for a midnight bonfire. A great day on the road.




More pics at http://murdercycles.com/v-web/gallery/album290?page=1
Ray in CT

The Beer Taps of Knowlegde

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