519 to Buttzville

519 is a road, mostly smooth, curvy, two lane blacktop. At the New York state line, I followed her down. It’s cow country, sheep; 20 mile per hour turns that sneak right up, a narrow tunnel, and there’s Vernon, and Hope. All the way to Buttzville; so named because, at one time, it was the butt watching capital of America. Butts reigned supreme. Not so much anymore. But there was a nicely packed butt in skin tight camo, right in Hot Dog Johnny’s. So I ate lunch: two dogs, mustard, pickles, and kraut with a big cup of buttermilk. That’s the special. And I gassed up and headed north on 519, all the way to the state line, with a song in my head, from Bob Seger:

She's totally committed, to major independence

But she's a lady through and through

She gives them quite a battle, all that they can handle

She'll bruise some, she'll hurt some too

But oh, they love to watch her strut…Bob Seger

Comments

Motorcycles and Photography

Motorcycles and Photography: Always liked both, so when I started going to rides and events it clicked. The photo above is of Skinner and Kitty on route to Marcus Dairy. I made my darkroom in the space near the oil burner. It had a sink, a red light bulb, beer and rock and roll. The oil burner would come on loud for heat or hot water and I would have to turn up the music and drink more beer. It was kinda like my own little private party developing pictures but I think the music might have woken my sleeping family upstairs, so I'd turn off the oil burner to be more quiet, then forget to turn it back on and we'd all wake up in the middle of the night freezing. I spent a lot of time under that red bulb developing, making prints and breathing fixer fumes but it kept me out of trouble, somewhat. Most of my riding shots were taken with a 28mm wide angle lens, at f8 or f11 set for hyperfocal distance. EASYRIDERS, IN THE WIND, BIKER, and more. Here's a complete list of my published...

Whoda thunk: Lake Michigan

Fifteen Dollar Piston

That's Paul Riding My Old Ironhead With The Fifteen Dollar Piston Blasting over the mountain, I was giving her the gas, full throttle, right against the stop, passing all the cars. That's when I heard the bang. BANG . Sounded like a 12 gauge , and the Ironhead starts losing power. Cars that I passed, start to pass me. And I notice that she’s smoking some. Well, something ain’t right; I’m turning around, I'm heading for home… And by the time I get home…I’m limping, mostly running on one cylinder. FUCK! I think that was the word out of my mouth. And I’m laying down serious smoke . The trouble was the front jug. Front one is easy to take off, so I pull off the head, and loosen the cylinder, start to slide her up over the piston. And here, is where I actually showed a lick of sense: Before I pull the jug all the way over the piston, I put a clean rag around the connecting rod, under the piston, to prevent broken metal from falling off the piston, into the crankcas...

Motorcycles Bartenders F-Bombs

Search This Blog