Doin' it right

"Peru - River in flood - bridge washed out, so the locals made a bridge out of pipe unloaded from a truck." What a trip...

RCMS Has Landed

...RCMS was in full orbit this past weekend, click the photo for the full report...

(((((Freewheelin' Friday's Revisited))))) **SOLD**

Riding with George on the Long Road was something I'll never forget. I get to see George maybe twice a year if that, but I talk to him every other week on the phone about work stuff, so getting the chance to actually see him face to face and log some miles along the notorious "Leaky Latowski" has been something of a goal of mine for many moons now. 

There is something about crossing the map with someone else who's done it a million times too that you both just click into a rhythm... Pass this semi, don't pass that one, hammer on the throttle here, slow down there, cops up ahead, straight away for hours, lets see if we can get up to 120 mph, rinse and repeat... Even though this was the first time i've been next to the Latowski in action, it felt familiar as ever, and despite his track record for crashing into Peterbilt's and busses, George is actually quite the skilled rider!

It's been ages since i've done a Freewheelin' Friday, and even longer since i've made a fresh piece exclusively for Freewheelin' Friday, but thats all because I haven't been in one place long enough to scratch my ass, let alone focus on a new project. However, the dust has settled, "regular" life has resumed, and I decided last week to get back in the swing of it, starting off with a piece I knew I had to paint the second my finger released the shutter button on the camera... 

The photo of this monstrous wheelie George pulled gets my blood pumping every time I look at it. Pure adrenaline, pushing the laws of physics and seeing just how close one can get before tipping a wheelie backwards. Just moments before this photo was taken, George came up to me and said "I've had this bike 30 years and just now learned how to do a wheelie!" I said "get one as high as you can, but don't kill yourself!" Naturally, he fuckin' nailed it.

Materials were gathered, tables and chairs were moved, and for the next week and a half my kitchen became my studio. Every time I start a painting like this, I go into thinking I know what I want to do, and how to do it and how long it will take. Well it usually doesn't take very long before the project takes over with a mind of its own, and everything you thought you knew gets thrown out the window. I originally thought i'd try and knock it out in one night, but what you see below is about 30 hours of work, somewhere along the 4th or 5th day. I totally got sucked in, vortex style.

Just a few nights ago I finished painting the black and white portion, a mile marker I thought would never come. Around this point, I woke up one morning with a really sore left elbow and couldn't figure out why they hell it hurt so bad... Well when I started painting that next day after work, I noticed I was constantly flexing my entire left arm so as to keep my palate close to my brush. Not so bad for a short period of time, but I had been flexing that arm for hours on end, day after day! Once I realized that, I had to force myself to relax that arm while the other one was painting, so as not to make it feel like it was going to shrivel up and fall off at night. 

Half way point!

Hot as balls too. This was around the middle stretch of those 100+ degree days, and a shitty old box fan was all I had to cool down. Musta drank at least 10 gallons of water!

The next step was figuring out something for the background. After much brainstorming with my bud Evan, I decided on a masking technique that would allow me to apply a wash in the background without getting any on George, something that would almost look like a giant water color painting.  The masking process took forever, and because of the heat, the masking sheets kept peeling back and needed to be pressed down way too often. It was a race against time, this shit did not want to stay down! But I did enjoy employing a new process, and its one i'll for sure re-visit in the future.

Not a speck on the floor! But it's not like i'm getting my security deposit back anyways...

Yellow wash came first...

Followed by Orange...

Topped off with the red.

Brought it in this morning to be photographed and I gotta say I like it quite a bit here by the entrance to the office... Life sized George just bustin' out of a wall!

...Detail...

The final product!!!

This baby measures 45 inches across by 72 inches high, and doesn't weight more than about 5 or 7 pounds. I intended to keep this one as my own, but in order to keep moving forward with some other motorcycle related endeavors, I'm considering selling it. If you think you'd like to have this original painting in your garage or home or shop, drop me a line and let's work out a deal... Will ship anywhere in the world. E-mail me at Jordan@thehorsebc.net (I mistakenly put a non-existing email address here before, but now i've corrected it, so fire away dudes!)

I'm also considering taking on a few portrait projects for the remainder of the summer season, so if you think you'd like your photo done up in a similar style, drop me a line and lets see what we can do! Thanks for looking guys, your views and comments mean a lot!

Blastin'

On down the road, E-man and I last fall... Can't wait to do more of this!

RCMS

It's riding season in Michigan again, which means the Road Couch Mother Ship is in orbit. Click the photo, take the ride.

PCH1

From my last summer's travels... 

Anybody recognize this photo?

(Tip: it is in the mag every month...)

Let the flood gates open...

Regardless of how wet you'll get, or how dangerous it is, or how much you'll wish you brought your rain suit, when it comes down to it, this is truly a beautiful sight to see. Mother nature can whip up one hell of a party in the sky, and you got to just take the good with the bad. Thats what its all about when you're riding a motorcycle, right? Exclusively sunny Sunday riders would turn right around and head for shelter at the sight of this sky, but I think I was grinning ear to ear...

The sauk Trail, 2009 (revisited)

Thats what I was trying to say!

The Sauk Trail, 2009

M-12 stretches from Downtown Detroit all the way through to Chicago. It was an old Native American foot path that quickly became the first established road between the two big cities. Today, I-94 is the main freeway connecting Detroit and Chicago, leaving the two lane road a ghost of it's former self.

I've heard old timers call it "the Route 66 of Michigan," and for good reason too. It travels past broken down tourist traps and old motels calling out to travelers from a by-gone era, and the whole road seems like a bit of a time warp. It had always been a goal of mine to reach Chicago from Detroit via the old "Sauk Trail," and a lazy summer day back in 2009 proved to be the perfect time to do so.

I left my house some time around 10 a.m., expecting to arrive at my friends place before dark. On the free way it takes about 4 1/2 hours to travel between the two big cities, but on M-12, it felt like eternity. By the time I got there, it was pitch black, I was soaked to the bone, and on top of all that, was horribly lost in the south side Chicago with no phone and a soggy map. The feeling of cracking that first beer once I finally landed on my friends stoop still brings a smile to my face.

Old abandoned farm houses littered the side of the road.

Nature's own "do not enter" sign.





Now where am I supposed to go for my Dragon and Ghost supplies?



The retired Detroit Police parade bike treated me well, I must say. A few months after this trip, I was hit by a car while riding to work in the rain, totaling the bike completely. Miraculously, I walked away without a scratch on my body. The barn in the background, on the other hand, did not escape disaster so easily.



A star spangled import greets you at the Michigan Indiana state boarder.

This is where the road starts to follow the crest of the bluffs as it winds along the southern rim of Lake Michigan. It felt like I was riding through a sand box--the road was covered in sand and I could hardly see the dividing line down the center of the road.



Took a stop at one of the bluff over looks, thinking i'd grab myself a view before it got dark. This hill looks easy enough to climb, but after 8 hours of sitting in the saddle, I swore my heart was going to explode right out of my chest once I got to the top.

Despite the 10 minutes of thinking I was actually experiencing a heart attack, the view was quite impressive. Lake Michigan is utterly magnificent, and seeing it from any angle brings me great joy.



Roads like M-12 give me the most compelling reason to get on my motorcycle and ride. As far as I can tell, a motorcycle is still the best way to explore and travel this country. The highways have their time and place, but the two lane roads take the cake in my book.

P.S. If you are reading this from somewhere where it is warm enough to ride, please, go do so. Now. Thank you. And don't forget to take pictures and send them in to Backtalk@ironcross.net, i'd love to share them right here with everyone. 

Two Thousand & Eleven in Two Minutes & Eleven Seconds

Two Thousand & Eleven in Two Minutes & Eleven Seconds... Enjoy the sights, forgive the shakiness...

It's Round the World Doug!

So it looks like "Round the World Doug" is going to be in Michigan this weekend! He will be at the International Motorcycle Show at the Novi Expo Center in Novi Michigan this weekend, and he'll be giving a short presentation on his last trip around the world. I do believe he'll be going on sometime in the early afternoon? Not positive on the exact time, but I heard somewhere between 1 and 3?

I know I'll be there, and you should to. I'm just hoping Doug will dish out his secret as to how he does it... build a bad ass bike, then sit down on it, twist the throttle, and don't stop till you hit the ocean... at which point you turn around and do it all over again. This man is a legend! 

Here's a little something I found on the innerwebs about his last trip and the bike he built for it... enjoy.

Road of Bones on a Harley

One of the holy grails of adventure riding is the Siberian journey known as the "Road of Bones". Commenced in the Stalin era of the USSR in 1932, the road got its name from the shocking practice of burying the dead workers in the road base as it was constructed in the harsh Eastern Russian conditions.
The isolated 2000 odd kilometre stretch of broken bridges and random hazards is no place for the weak of heart.

You may remember Doug Wothke from a story we ran a while ago, in which he took his chopped rigid frame Harley for a jaunt around Europe, and Eastern Europe, including a spin around Iraq. If not, take a look here.

Well Doug's at it again, this time he's decided the most suitable adventure bike for the harsh Siberian trip wasn't available commercially, so he's made his own, out of a Harley Davidson 1200 Sportster.

The Dirtster


Nicknamed the "Dirtster", the 2003 model Sportster has suspension and wheels more suitable for the conditions, along with the usual long distance modifications. While the Road of Bones is a few thousand kilometres long, Doug is going to ride across Europe, and subject to visas, make a run across Iran, and probably several other countries a sane man wouldn't go.

Not content with reaching Magadan at the end of the Road of Bones, the bike will be then put on a ship for a small southern journey to Vladivostok, and from there Doug will ride clear across Russia back to Europe. This would probably around 30,000 kilometres all up.

Red line is approximate route to Madagan on the East coast, dotted green is ship, followed by the run home.


If you haven't already, take a look at Doug's site motosapiens.org. The Eastern Europe trip on the Shovel is really something to see. This next adventure should take things to a whole new level, and we look forward to the stories and pictures to come.

About the Road of Bones:

Constructed in the Stalin era of the USSR, the Highway was constructed using forced labour by inmates of  the gulag camps, commencing in 1932. By the time it was completed in 1952, tens of thousands of workers had died on the project.

The road runs for 2000 kilometres through the harshest terrain of the Asian continent, connecting Magadan and Yakutsk,  looping through the Siberian mountains in order to reach the gold mines that once operated there. Two towns on the highway, Tomtor and Oymyakon, both claim to be the coldest inhabited place on earth outside of Antarctica. The average temperature in Oymyakon in January is -46°C. 

The expo's info can be found here

and the source I cited here

and Doug's page here

and you are here

7:54 a.m., Wednesday morning

Just before sunrise, 43 degrees, and a 100 mile ride into work. Best way to start a Wednesday.

Cold, but still worth it. These days wont' last long... get on your bike and ride while you still can.

take me back there, a.k.a campsite shakedown, a.k.a. the best things in life are free

Back in June, I made it from Detroit to L.A. in two weeks without spending a single dime on a place to sleep. Here's a shakedown of my favorite spots...

Lake side abode in Nebraska. Had no idea this kind of place even existed there. The firewood was plentiful and the sand was soft for sleeping, and it marked my first night truly alone on that trip. The night before I spent sleeping on a pretty gnarly beer-and-piss-soaked incline behind Jeff Wright's "Kung Fu Tap n' Taco" Bar after the DicE party. Don't think I slept more than 3 hours that night, but it was worth it. Great party. This spot, on the other hand, was quite the change in scenery.

Two feelings I battled while camping alone in the woods all those nights were boredom and paranoia, the latter of which I wouldn't fully experience until I got farther west and deeper into the wilderness, where the threat of a bear entering your site is real. The problem of boredom was solved just inside the border of Nevada when I picked up a little classical guitar at a pawn shop for 50 bucks. Still can't believe it fit on my bike, and that it made it home in one piece. God bless that little guitar, i've never played so frequently or with such passion before or since then. I had blisters on my fingers that whole trip.

Colorado is one of my favorite states to ride motorcycles in, with a close second being tied between Utah and California. I got to cross over independence pass that day and look at 6 foot tall snow drifts on the side of the road. Fucking awesome.  By the time I got to my campsite I didn't have enough sunlight or energy to start my own fire, so i crashed a fire of a Lithuanian family that was camping just down the river from me. We had a great fireside talk about how massive the United States are and how each state has it's own flavor and how road trips here are unlike road trips anywhere else on the planet. The whole time I was sitting around their fire, I kept wondering where they hell they were all going to sleep. Turns out, at the end of the night all 8 of them crammed into a tent not much bigger than mine. Brilliant. Oh, and it was their first time camping, too. On a side note, I stacked up some rocks in the river to make a makeshift icebox for my beers, worked like a charm.

This might have been my favorite night camping. I had planned on staying at a campground on Big Sur off of California's coast, but failed to factor in the impact of the "tourists season" and how badly those campgrounds price gouged. All "legit" spots were full, but a quick look at the map showed me some national forest land just up a dirt road that would be my home for the night.  It was just about to get dark, and the road was by far the twistiest road i traveled on that trip, and to make matters worse (or more fun!) it was just wide enough for one vehicle, half of it was made out of dirt, and it was positioned at a dizzying grade of something like 11%! The spot you see was the best looking clearing I saw after about 9 miles of traveling on that nerve wrecking road. Absolute solitude for miles around, the stars were mind blowing, and I played my guitar at full blast, singing away the wild creatures that made their presence known with hoots and grunts and foot steps in the night.

Utah at it's best. Route 95 runs right across the northern part of Lake Powell, crossing wide open desert and sun scorched rock formations. I camped right on the lake front in the middle of no where, about 50 miles east of Bullfrog, and 80 miles west of Blanding-- litterally, not a soul in sight. What i thought was going to be a fireless night (not exactly an abundance of trees in the middle of the dessert) turned out to be my best blaze yet. Years and years of drift wood had piled up about 100 feet from my tent, and a few trips with my arms loaded up provided for some very hot, very fast burning wood. The six pack i bought back in Bullfrog had nearly boiled inside of its cans on the hour ride it took me to arrive there, but never before had i been so appreciative for warm budlight (it was all the gas station in bullfrog had!) The night feel quickly and the stars were again awe-inspiring. I'm almost certain i saw aliens approaching my site that night too, swear to God. Two lights slowly moving towards me, not responding to my calls, and then disappearing suddenly, only to re-appear about an hour later. Spooky stuff for sure. I found myself repeating some Dr. John lyrics in my head that seemed especially pertinent that night; "Refried confusion is making itself clear, Wonder which way do I go to get on out of here. I been in the right place, But it must have been the wrong time.."


In my three weeks spent on the road, I camped about 75% of the time, and spent the other 25% either staying with old friends along the way, or couchsurfing with newly met friends (On a side note: anybody who does any amount of traveling and has a sense of adventure, this is an invaluable resource-- look into it!) There were other campsites I stayed at on that trip, but the ones highlighted here were my favorites.

If there was one thing I learned from that trip, it would be that the adventure doesn't have to stop once you're done riding for the day. I would have never experienced these places so fully if I would've just checked into a motel 6 and plopped down with a remote in my hand for the night. Getting outdoors and exposing yourself to the elements just further amplifies the whole motorcycling experience. This land is full of surprises and hidden gems that you can't discover from behind a keyboard or on a TV screen. They're gems because they take a little more effort to find, and that effort is what makes them worth it. If given enough time on your next trip, take the two lane roads this country has to offer and bring your bed roll with you-- I don't think you'll find a better America any other way.

Hello Wes!

I met Wes on the revenge run, more specifically on the roof of the two hour ferry from Hatteras to Ocracoke. He was doing the run on a old little stock Triumph number that he re-built just before the run.  I forget what it was exactly, but I do remember being quite impressed by the amount of miles he was piling up on such a modest mill.

Kelly and I talked with him for almost the entire ferry ride, about photography and surfing and motorcycles and how we thought life should be lived. Wes is one of those guys who digs all different kinds of motorcycles, from old to new and big to small. I always enjoy talking to folks with that mindset, for they seem to have the best grip on what this motorcycle thing is really about. I haven't talked to Wes since that roof top meeting, but he sent me this e-mail earlier this week.

"Hey Jordan, its wes from the revenge run! I just got back 6 rolls of film so Ive been updating my photo blog and scanning photos and negatives. I realized this one was of you and your girl so I wanted to send it along, go here - www.zootrails.blogspot.com to see some of the others, Im going to be putting up more and more as the week goes by. There are quite a bit more of motorcycle photos coming from the run - all film. Thought you might be interested. Hope all is well and that its not getting too cold up there yet. Also your tigers might make it to the world series! that would be awesome!

take care

WES"

Unfortunately, the tigers world series run has been cut short, but Wes's film photos from the run are top notch. Its rare to see many guys shooting in film these days (and doing it well) but Wes is one of them. Crazy surfing photos too, go check it out!

camping necessities

Not one, but two types of hot sauce. And busch camo... tis the season!

The cold weather is approaching quickly, time to pack in all the camping you can stomach. Did a little 300 mile jaunt this past weekend with my girl up to the thumb of Michigan. Motorcycles and beach side bonfires and best friends and blue skies and hot sauce and camo cans. All the good stuff in life. Get it while you can!

"The Mighty Mac" a.k.a "Big Mac" a.k.a. "The Mackinac Bridge"

On our way back home from Sturgis, Kelly and I took the northern route. We left South Dakota on a Thursday and passed through Minnesota and Wisconsin, eventually entering into Michigan via the Upper Peninsula on that following sunday. If you travel west along the coast of the U.P. on highway 2 long enough, you'll come upon the sacred spot where Lake Michigan and Lake Huron meet and the two peninsula's nearly touch, a spot known as the "Straits of Mackinac."

I've ridden my motorcycle over many roads and treacherous terrains, but nothing compares to the feeling you get when you look below you and see a straight drop of 200 feet to the waters surface. The steel grates grab your front tire and determine when and where you'll go, leaving little choice to you the rider. Compound that with the crazy strong winds blowing up and around you, and it provides for one hell of a crossing.

Five men died during it's construction between 1954 and 57', and in the last 20 years, two cars have blown up and over the side from high winds and bad luck. It is the world's longest suspension bridge between anchorages, out spanning the Golden Gate and the Oakland Bay Bridge, and i'm proud to say it is in my own back yard. If you live in or near Michigan and you've never crossed this Grand daddy, get on your bike and go. Summer's fading fast...

Westward Ho!

Heading out to Sturgis today, so the Horse blog will be a little light for the next week or so. As usual, my  RoadCouchMotherShip blog will be in full effect while i'm on the road, so take a gander at it if you so desire.  See you down the road!

:::Blur:::

This summer has been one huge blur. A breathtaking blur. The best kind of blurs. Kind of like this blur, from the Revenge Run this spring:

Rolling out to Sturgis tomorrow after work with Kelly by my side. Gonna blast on the e-way into Chicago for the night, then it's all two lane black tops winding us nice n' easy into the Black Hills.

resume the blur... maintain the blur... embrace the blur...

Did Mary love choppers?

Yes. Yes she did. Took this one at last years Horse Sturgis Show, one of our bike show winners.

 And speaking of the Sturgis show... if you find yourself in the Black Hills in on Monday the 8th, I better see you at the Horse's bike show inside the Full Throttle Saloon. It's free to enter your bike, free to attend, and the prizes we're giving away are mental. Even if your bike doesn't win anything, you still have a shot at winning some raffle prizes if your number gets pulled. I think last year we gave away a Baker N1, among some amazing Fab Kevin pieces and about a billion other awesome expensive things that most people cant afford to just give away. Win win.

Last year Kelly and I posted up in the Lay-Z boy chairs that lined the old railroad bridges that span the bar. This place rules, and on a monday in Sturgis, it doesn't really get any better.

Roadside Marty will be there!

 This is only about half of the show space early on... the place packed out, so get there early!

 Larry and his Lovely Lady Ashley.

 Sugar Bear on stage.

Gnarly!

If you had some sort of preconceived notion in your mind that Sturgis is for lame old dudes who drop their bikes while parking them in search of more skull flamed doo-rags, you're sort of right. BUT, that is only one side of Sturgis, and if you put in even the smallest bit of effort, much fun is to be had, like at this bike show. And not to mention riding your motorcycle around the crazy twisty roads the Black Hills have to offer, which for a Mid-west man like myself, is quite the treat. Okay, so see you there then? Okay!