Heavy Shit!

Lifeisfuct posted this tank in thoughts of the Lodge. Fitting? I'd say so. Thanks man, to you and yours I wish many miles and many smiles. Check out his site and buy some Sundays best.

Uncle Jessie

Photo by: Lynne Cotie

I said good bye to an old friend the other day. Why? I still can't think of a real good reason - other than -- I found someone that could possibly love him as much as I do if not more. Someone that could give him a new life, a second wind.

Jessie and I were love at first sight. It had every sign of being the worst purchase anyone could ever make written all over it - before and after the purchase. But I did, and it has been one hell of a ride. We've been through a bunch of crazy shit together and he stuck it out. With his stitched up heart, tender old clutch and scarred face he hauled my sorry ass with finesse and character- forcing me to smile like a king every time I drove him.

He is:

Truck No. 3.
Retired Johnson Creek WI Dept of Public Works (40 years)
1963 Ford F250
223ci 4spd
Heavy Duty

Travels with Charlie

Road trip with a dog. Here's the rig that GMC made special for Steinbecks road trip across america with his poodle Charlie. Read it, whether you are an intelligent human or not.

Squared Away

I'm set to go when your are. You know I'm always look'n for a long ride and a good time off the beaten path. She's runs like I never thought any Ironhead ever could. One kick and she's ready. As soon as I get back from Chattanooga we're free to roam!







I just need to make a set of exhuast pipes and tweak a few things esthetically and paint'r up this winter but she'll go anywhere right now!

Getting to be that time

The urban empires are taking their toll on this youthful but aging man. Some days I feel like the concrete is gonna cave in on me, and I welcome it. It's simply time to decompress I think. Been in Chicago for 10 years, before that was San Diego for 5 years, and before that was a quaint life in Southwest Michigan. I'm really starting to feel a little town and some slow down. Maybe find a place like this to fix up and work out of, build some furniture projects that won't get built here, and maybe even a bike or two. Might even get that dog I've been talking about. Hell, I don't need much more that two hots and a cot. Right?

Nevermind, this is starting to sound like a Disney movie.I need to hit the road....pan must run in one week. Josh, get squared away, Mystery Cotie stop rubbing it in and put in for that vacation time. Momma, I'm coming home.

Joe Momma

Today I headed into the suburbs and gave Joe Momma visit. He is a good friend of Sean and Slippery Pete and I was told he is the guy that could help me set my bike straight with my little "issue". It's getting harder and harder to find shops like Joe Momma's. It's sad when little shops that actually know what the fuck is going on get closed down because they can't accommodate a 1000 foot of floor space for a clothing boutique or a million dollar store front. It's pretty sad when you walk into a dealership and the "parts guy" hands you the book and says.... you find me the part number. There is no sole what so ever in these places..... so sterile and reeking of leather not of grease and oil like they should. Not to mention the over inflated prices you're gonna pay. Not saying that every dealership is like this but every one I have ever been in was like it. When I need a part I have to special order it or drive 100 miles to someone that knows what the hell I'm talking about. I walked into Joe Momma's.... didn't get attitude just a warm welcome. I only planned on staying a few seconds but stuck around all afternoon... got to know the family and ate some pizza.




Joe Momma and his 1928


Garage Sale find.














Joe said this was a tank puller during the war. A trike with catipilar tracks.



It was about Rush hour when I left Joe's so I stopped over at my friends Bobby and Kacy's house and checked out what they had going on.

Mike's bike..... I think I know where he got some of his inspiration......


Bobby's new project. Just chopped on Saturday!


The gasser Bobby built for his dad.

Saturday Night

So nobody could find me on Saturday night and I got all of these jealousy ridden phone calls. Well now that I am officially a blogger I tell people "just check the blog and you'll figure it out". After all, this blog stuff is my reality and an inside look at the life and times of myself and friends. So to all of you party missers, here are the pics from that crazy party I told you about. You guys totally should've came. I look a little out of place cause there were a bunch of jocks and yuppies, oh and a prego lady, but it totally worked out. It got a little wierd around the end of the night though, same old party lifestyle shit. Check out the winner I was telling you about. Yep, their real.

Artist: Charlie White

I Don't Need No Doctor

I don`t need no doctor
Cause I know what`s ailing me
I don`t need no doctor
Cause I know what`s ailing me
Yes, I do

All I need is my baby
You don`t know
I`m in misery

I don`t need no doctor
I don`t need no doctor

I don`t need no doctor
My prescription tells me that
I don`t need no doctor
I don`t need no doctor

I don`t need no doctor
My prescription tells me that
I don`t need no doctor
I don`t need no doctor

All I need is my baby
You don`t know
I`m in misery

I don`t need no doctor
I don`t need no doctor

Well, the doctor said I need rest
He put me on the critical list
Keeping me safe from harm
All I need is her sweet charm

He gave me a medicated lotion
It wouldn`t do, woah yeah
My emotion, oh yeah

I don`t need no doctor
I don`t need no doctor

Riding Costa Rica

Back in '05 Harlan and I decided to take a trip down to Costa Rica to find some property to buy and we figured the only way to see the not so white washed areas of the country was by motorbike. We would get so lost up in the jungle and find the coolest little mountain villages. The riding on the intercontinental highway was by far the best riding I've done in my life, crazy twisties and cliffs for miles and miles. I remember this guy that flew by us on a KTM duke with California plates, he was tearing the intercontinental up and I was thinking "damn, I wish we had a couple of those". One of our last legs was from dominical back to san jose, I was horribly hung over and unaware of how fast the climate and altitude can change.

We left Dominical, it was 100 degrees at sea level. After a bus takes my clutch lever off crossing a river bed and we make some trailside repairs we get up the mountain about an hour and Harlan stops to throw on a jacket. I'm like "what are you doing man?" He says, "dude, we've got alot of climbing to do, it's gonna drop". Whatever, I throw on a sweatshirt, all I had. 4 hours later at 11,000 feet above sea level it's 40 degrees, raining and almost zero visibility from the fog or clouds for that matter. I'm so cold, hungover and some how pissed at Harlan because I've now turned my misery into his fault. Harlan stops to take a pic on some bluff and I pull in behind him, well here comes this snarling dog from some hut tearing at me like fucking Cujo so I get on it and lose it trying to avoid Harlan and not spill over the cliff. Wrench my knee laying it down and the peice of shit mut didn't even come near me. Now I've had it, I'm so pissed and Harlan is laughing his ass off.

We finally come down the backside of the mountains into San Jose about dusk. Find some shitty hostile full of teenage hippies who are talking all this shit about how their lives have been changed from roughing it in CR. Whatever kid, go live a little. Anyway, we end up at some creepy bars full of old white dudes and young hookers. We were quickly over it and on the way back to the hippy house these linebacker trannies are everywhere and at us like flies to shit, after getting my dick grabbed on the corner by one of these Mutant freaks and of course listening to Harlans cackle, I was so done and ready to get the fuck out of San Jose.

Great trip with somebody who knows how to travel and not give a rats ass. The only way to do a trip like that or any trip for that matter. There are a ton more stories from this trip but this is the one that Harlan likes to tell the most, anything with my demise. Since this trip I haven't gone on a vacation that didn't revolve around getting on two wheels and I don't think I ever will. Thanks for the memories Harlan. Cambodias next.

How it all starts

I suppose for most this is where it started.

I didn't COP out.......

So the last we talked I was about to throw on a narrow glide because I just couldn't get the springer to handle right. Well every possible thing that could have ever been wrong with it...... was just that. Big twin cups to Sporty neck, metric stem, the bearing race shuffle, a new big twin stem that was undersized, worn out everything, oversized rocker pivot holes, undersized pivot shafts, a bent rocker, trail, a crocked axle, dry rotted untrue/unbalanced tires that wont fit between the fork legs and an internal fork stop that was hanging up....... Fuck me! That's just the short of it. So last night I put a few miles on it and damn does the motor run good! One kick and it wants to purr at 75 miles an hour. Let my pops ride it....... He was so excited to get a chance to switch roles and beat on my shit for a change. He rhode about half a mile and said fuck that stupid thing! My Dad, little sis and I rhode some back roads to get some Ice cream and he said "You set the pace" So I thought Ill just take'r easy on the fresh motor...... mid way through the trip he informed me that is was cruise'n 75. I couldn't believe it.

Anyway today was the first day I actually got to put a decent amount of miles on and today I about got my bike put into evidence crates. It ran great with no problems! I hadn't eat'n all day because I was just trying to get as many miles on it as I could because I planned on riding it to Tennessee Wednesday. I headed into town to catch some grub and as I was sitting there eating I watched as the local Sheriff stomped on his brake pedal while rubberneck'n my bike. He circled around a few times and I thought to myself "I'm not gett'n to the county line without a good interrogation". As I walk out of the restaurant I look to see where he is hiding. Sure enough.... as soon as I kicked her over a differrent cop car appears from out behind the funeral home. I know there is a laundry list of things he could cite me for but knew that all they wanted to know was what club I was affiliated with. One week I was pulled over four times by different officers with some bullshit reason why the pulled me over. I know the game just be cool with them and most of the time they are cool with you. It ended up that this cop was a really cool guy. I didn't have registration on me nor did I have an insurance card because I had just called it in. I was even joking with the gal on the phone about why I needed insurance she said "in case you get into an accident" and I said in case I get pulled over" and told her about the situations I've been in, in the past. Anyway.....So he said he would follow me home and I could proof of insurance and registration so he didn't have to write my a bullshit ticket. Scary cause it's hard to ride the bike in a straight line! So when I got home the reggy was in the shop and my dad's laptop was in the house. I said you can fellow me to the shop and he said that's cool I'm just going to pull out my flashlight and check out your "sweet" bike. I thought oh great here we go! So when I got back he informed about some things he found wrong with my bike and told me why it should be taken into police custity but I could tell he was actually really Digg'n my style. He even took out his camera and snapped some pics. At first I thought he was taken record of it but I'm pretty sure he was just liken what he was see'n. Then he proceded to tell me about his past with motorcycles, riding and a little something about clubs. He told me he had seen my photo work in the past and we talked for quite some time. He let me off really easy...... and I know my bike could have been gone on it's first day out. I know that a police officer has a job to do and I respect that....... He was just taking orders from his boss because he said I gave him a nasty look.

I started with an idea...... oh yeah and some shitty parts

John "Speedo" Reis

The common denominator and genius contributor to four of my favorite bands.

Tennessee Todd Weldon

So I am hang'n with the Death Trap boys up in Wrightwood California during the Chop Meet and I'm looking for Todd so I can shoot his bike. They inform me that I'll have to ride up the mountain and drag his ass out of his sleeping bag. I have always loved Todd's bike but have to say it is the biggest Death Trap I have ever shot. As we were heading out he lost his left side foot peg... I stopped... he said... fuck it.... let's ride! Normally that's not such a big deal but his runs and open chain primary!







A few guys and a lady at the bottom of the hill caught wind of the photoshoot and decided to dust us out.



Holly threw some dust and bit some shortly after..... it was sweet!



And believe when I tell you he rides the dirt out of it! Shot in Mexico!