Hank's Leaky Shovelhead

Hank loved his shovelhead, but it leaked like the Exxon Valdez, and he became frustrated. He’d try to fix one leak, then get another. So, a few years back, he bought a brand new Victory motorcycle, hoping newer technology, would make it leak free. So I found a small dropper bottle and filled it with clean 20w/50, and carried it in my pocket, so that when Hank wasn’t looking, I could put a few drops under his bike, adding to his frustration. We’d go out by his brand new parked bike, and I’d say, “Hank, what’s that under yer bike?” And he’d bend down, put his finger in the oil, and say, “What the fuck!:” Eventually, he caught on, and he called me a mutherfucker. Hank died a couple of years ago, but I still have the dropper bottle.

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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

First Ride To Sturgis

It was our first ride to Sturgis on the new Superglide and we rode through torrential down pours, truck gauntlets, Chicago traffic jams, unrelenting midwest sunglare and crossed the mighty Mississippi. We’d set our daily limit at 500 miles per day, an easy goal west of the Mississippi; we spent our first Sturgis night in Wall. Badlands was spectacular, but hot and dry, so we headed west looking for a bar. In New Underwood, we found “The Worlds Smallest Biker Bar,” a friendly place where the bartender held coins between her cheeks and dropped them into a cup.

Motorcycles Bartenders F-Bombs

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