Scary Stuff

Here's a list of a few scary things on Halloween, in no particular order.

A Jet Powered YSR50 is scary. Trust me. This would scare you. Load it up HERE . It might take a minute, there's a bunch of pics. Thanks to Jeffro for the link and the always killer Halloween party. Pirates everywhere. Fire. Cool. No bloodshed. ArrrrrgH!

Thanks to Bruce this Cool Person Test scared me.......Check your ego at the door.

If something HERE
doesn't scare you then you may already be dead.......Check your pulse please.

And beware of the moors......
PWA

Grippy's Newest Trick

Here's a pic of Grippy's latest trick. It'll surely be famous later than sooner. It's an eyes closed two-handed back-ass-wards back-side invert to disaster boneless stale as a fish bert grind on the outside of the orange peel. God I love those run-on trick names.

Skate hard.......

New Lite Silencer

Some people are of the opinion that carbon-fiber is the ultimate light-weight way to go to shave some pounds and help any competitive machine reach it's top performance potential.

The Captain has a bit of a different take on all that. He says his method is performance enhancing to both man and motorbike, as well as being quite aesthetically pleasing. Here's his latest mod to his Kawasaki "Mean Green" KT250 Trials Mocheen.

He also would like to point out that various models are available at your local 7-Eleven store.

Sorry to change gears, but on a more somber note the jazz world is mourning the loss this past Thursday of Shirley Horn. There is a good article HERE from the Washington Post.

L8R
PWA

More From Goat-Dog Road

This is Mr. Nubbie and Little Pinto at the site of Sam's treed mirror during the second week of October, 2005. Pinto is being kind enough to give us all the double sign of the vex.

If you'll look closely at the foreground of the picture I think you'll get some idea of the off-camber nature of that piece of real estate. Again, any one of the five of us could have been the crashee that day.

On the subject of Sam's memory loss, let me just say that I have had my bell rung on quite a few occasions and that I am not too effected (Hmmmm, maybe I could be affected!) by having a bit of fuzzy-logic applied to some of my memory banks. Hell, it just happens. Sam, on the other hand was, and still is quite effected by not being able to remember the events over the course of that day. He doesn't remember starting out that morning, where we went, where we were headed or the spill or anything in about an eight hour time span.

He was kind of funny as shit though. If he asked me once, he asked me a freaking hundred times afterwards, "Pee Wee, what did I do?" I'd explain to him that he low-sided on an off camber downhill turn and was knocked out for a couple minutes.

Five minutes later he'd ask me, "Pee Wee, what did I do?" Again we'd give him the rundown of the past little whiles activities only for him to ask about it again and again and again. All the rest of the evening.....

The mirror only ended up in the tree to get it out of his sight because he kept trying to put it in one of our tailbags on our bikes because he thought he could fix the damn thing. We kept removing it from our bags, because it was shedding glass everywhere and it was totally totalled, and five minutes later he'd be wandering around with it in his hand and again he'd stuff it in someone's bag. So we stuck it in the tree.

He was in no condition to continue on so me and Little Pinto did a mondo blast back to the home base for an SUV and a trailer. It took a while to fetch some transport and to get back to Goat-Dog Road. Meanwhile, according to Mr. Nubbie, he and Sam had a couple of hours of great conversation, and Sam was quite normal by Nubbie's standards, wherein they solved most or all of the current problems of the world. Sam of course has no recollection of those conversations at all.

Later that evening, while we were trying to grill some burgers and doing a bit of socializing he was adamant that he wanted a glass of wine. I tried to explain to him that he probably had a bit of a concussion and that alcohol would best be avoided for a couple of days. Mind you it was pretty hard for me to try and play the role of the adult to my Dad, especially after all the times he's had to pop my head outta' my ass.

He wouldn't take no for an answer on the wine, and I finally relented and got him a glass full. What I served him though was really half wine and half water, and whenever he'd look away I'd take a sip out of it real quick, and we'd all try and keep the snickering to a minimum. He may have noticed, but in typical Sam fashion he never let on. We thought the joke was on him but it may well have been on us.

Here's to riding it hard and putting it up wet.

L8R
PWA

Sam's Mirror

That shiny bit on that tree you see back there is the bashed left-hand rear-view mirror from my Dad's DRZ400S Suzuki. It marks the spot where he had a particularly nasty little spill on the first week-end of May, 2005. The mirror's still in the tree and we stop and pay homage to the Crash Godz whenever we make the run through that part of the back country, between Bucksnort and Hurricane Mills, on a seven mile chunk of road that we call Goat-Dog Road.

We call it Goat-Dog Road for a couple of reasons. First, there are a couple of farms that have herds of goats. Second, a year or so ago Sam, Little Pinto and yours truly were banging through there and a goofy looking hound dog came wailing out from a farm-house and proceeded to run through the woods with us for over three miles, and I mean full-tilt boogie run. The road has several climbs and descents with switch-backs and this dog would freaking pass us on the inside, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth! We stopped once near a ditch that was full of rain run-off and he went over and leapt in it to cool off and he came over and let us all pat him on the head, we fired our bikes up and he headed right back out with us. He was one of the coolest dogs I ever met and we always have a laugh whenever that gets brought up, and that road to us will forever be named Goat-Dog Road.

The piece of road that got Sam is carved out of chirt and the spot of the crash is a heavily downhill sweeping left-hander that is ugly and off-camber to the right, and it leads to a right-hand, hair-pin, switch-back turn. There were five of us riding that day and the roads were dry as hell and really hard packed with little rolling marbles all over the place. The going was quite treacherous. We all struggled through there and I personally, had more than a couple of roller-coaster stomach moments as we passed through Goat-Dog Road.

Doing the Columbo detective bit, this is what we came up with regarding Sam's tip-over. It was a low-speed low-side where the front-end just washed away from him to the right, to the outside of the sweeping turn, and the bike spit him over the left handlebar at a forty-five degree angle. He hit left shoulder and left side of his helmet first, and then the bike followed him down and tried to chew off his new SIDI motocross boot. We don't really know if the helmet impact knocked him out or if the whiplash from the quick-snap toss over the bars got him, but he was gone for a few minutes there. Out like a light. And as a result of that few minutes of unconsciousness he lost memory of most of the whole day.

Let me just say Thank God for some real safety gear y'all. I just cringe whenever I see somebody riding a motorbike and there is none apparent. But of course, nobody heads out on a ride thinking they're going to have a crash. All of Sam's gear did it's respective jobs and there were no real injuries. He was sore as hell with some bruised ribs, probably from that mirror as he went over the bars. And he had a bruise on his left butt and a sore ankle, but hell, three hundred plus pounds of DRZ flopping down on your leg will do that.

Nope, no injuries really, except for one, and it's not really medical or physical. Sam's injury is the invisible injury. This particular injury is also the hardest one to fix, and I've been trying to fix it for six months now. And that injury is the injury to his riding confidence. A lingering doubt in his mind about whatever mistake that he thinks that he may have made in that corner. He begs to differ with me on the confidence thing, saying instead that he's just a bit more careful now. I have a little different read on it and we have chosen to respectfully disagree, and as long as he doesn't choose to dis-own me for this then I guess I'm doing okay.

And again, what I couldn't get into his head then, and I can't get into his head now is that it could have been any one of the five of us that day that had that tip-over. The road was just that damned unpredictable that day.

More to come from Goat-Dog Road.......

Eddword van Leadbetter

This guitar was uncovered while tearing down an old shotgun house. It was found inside of a wall. It's believed to have been owned by hill country Delta blues legend Eddword van Leadbetter of Ponches Pilote Mississippi, who got his start with the teen-age band the Mississippi Heugonaughtes.

The problem is that the house pre-dates electricity in the Delta, which begs the question, why an electric guitar? Well, it is believed that Eddie van used the age-old and well proven technique of sequestering lightning bugs in a mayo jar to power his devils instrument.

Um. Don't believe every damn thing that you read.

But, do believe this. This axe is a true True-Tone guitar. It has a hub-cap like badge on the head-stock that says so. It also has the inimitable W.A. logo on the hub-cap that tells us that it was sold from a freaking Western Auto outlet store. How cool (and weird) is that?

It's got enough pick-ups and volume knobs and tone controls for two or three guitars, along with the pick-up selector switch that we like to call the gear shifter. It weighs all of nearly three pounds.

This guitar is the epitiome of de-laminating funkiness. Can you say plywood? It has all the feel of a mobile home with the wheels still on it.

But dig this y'all, it has a vibe to die for and a goofy tone to match, and it's absolutely fun as hell, and ain't that what it's all about anyways?

L8R
PWA & Little Pinto

The Falls

Some more from the Mr. Nubbie, Little Pinto, and PWA show.......

We'd be more than glad to tell you where this is, just tickled in fact, but then we'd have to kill you, and we can't have that now, can we?

Suffice to say that your Chevy pick-em-up truck won't get you there, unless of course it's more than capable of competing at Baja.......or running the Paris-Dakar.

L8R
PWA

Bad Idea Squared

Okay. Take a minute and think of the absolute stupidest thing that you heard today. I'll wait.......(humming to myself).

Have you thought of it yet? Good.

Would you maybe like to make a little wager? Now, I'll bet you a beer that my stupidest thing beats your stupidest thing. Maybe by a mile. No George Bush stuff though. Check my stupidest thing out by clicking HERE.

So, do you owe me a beer or do you have a stupider one? It'd have to be a doozie to top that amazingly stupid bullshit. Comments welcome.....

I'll take a Mackeson Triple XXX Stout please........

L8R
PWA

There Must Be Some Way Outta' Here......

There must be some way outta' here,
said the joker to the thief.
There's not enough traction here,
can we get some relief.

With all apologies to Mr. Bob Dylan.

Me and my major buds Mr. Nubbie and Little Pinto got to have quite a fang today. We banged the woods for 145 miles and took in the sights that the Interstates definitely do not provide.

The Pinto provided Shakespeare's comedic relief on the day with a triumvirate of inventive crashes, all without any injuries to himself or damage to his beloved DRZ.

L8R
PWA and Little Pinto

In the Woods

I got to spend the waning hours of sunshine today in complete solitude with my trials bike and the woods. Very nice, I must say. I went around the loop and taped off the sections and put up the start and end markers for the trials this week-end.

The leaves are in their first stages of dropping because the trails that I rode last evening, and the evening before had way more leaves on them today than they did yestarday. And the mushrooms are freaking unbelieveable. Have been for a couple of weeks now. They're everywhere and are all different shapes and textures and sizes. The Captain and I saw one last week that was the size of a motorbike helmet. I've been trying to get some pictures of the 'shrooms but I'm afraid my camera was made by Hoover. It sucks.......

Anyway, I rode in complete solitude today except for a couple of encounters with some wild turkeys, and the spike buck white-tail deer with a couple of does (Ho's) that he either had interested in him or vice-versa (CHEAP TRICK. "He's a Whore").

I think that the rut may be in it's first stages too, what about it Captain?

I scared up this same crew of deer no less than three times in an hour-and-a-half period. They'd make a collective dash in my peripheral and I'd instantly hit the kill button, and then try and roll to as soft a stop as I could, crunchy leaves included. All three times they would check up, and check me over quite closely, and then would just hold their ground and keep an eye on me, but they seemed to continue with their business. The does would sniff like hell towards me, all bug-eyed, something I'd never been close enough to a white-tail in the woods before to see. We would end up in a semi-circle, sometimes with me in the middle, and the four of us would have fit in a Dairy Queen dining area, we were so tight. The duration of me and my smell that they could stand before one of them initiated the bolt was easily several minutes. It was cool as shit, I talked to them and grunted and whistled and snorted, but kept very still, and they were totally nonchalant. Made me nervous as hell.

I had on some shades so I wonder if not being able to see my eyes had anything to do with their timidness. Of course, the big old helmet on my head may have been confusing to them, they may have thought I was some sort of mucked up big old mushroom.

AHRMA / STRA / ITSA National Trials this week-end, the 8th and 9th, out at the B&J Ranch. Directions are right HERE. Come on out, you'll dig it. Pig & Pie Bar-B-Cue on site.

L8R
PWA

Weird Politics

Hmmmm, or is it.

Kinky Friedman, a.k.a. The Kinkster, is making a run for the governor's office in Texas. Friedman's campaign slogans are "Why the hell not?" and "How hard can it be?" An interview from the New Yorker Magazine with the off-beat candidate can be found HERE.

Hell, this probably isn't any weirder than having a pro-wrassler/bad-actor or a body-builder/bad-actor as a governor.

Thanks to Mennonite Mike for the political heads-up.

PWA

Happy Sunday, with an attitude.....

Goofy Link of the Day

Perhaps the ultimate Harley wanna-be bike is here at VENTO MOTORCYCLES, U.S.A., both in the H-D stolen look category, but also in the hype as a U.S.A. marque. And I just absolutely adore (or should that be abhor?) their catchy slogan, sounds like Richard Simmons was in on the brain-storming session during the marketing meeting that came up with this beauty......

"Vento isn't just a motorcycle, it is an attitude."

Er. Right.......

American/Mexican business relations at it's weirdest. Y'all make us all the stuff, then we'll stick it together here and call it an all-American product, Made in the U.S.A. Hell, we could even sell 'em at Wal-Mart!

Hmmmm. I think with your new attitude you may need some new riding duds and they might have just the ticket HERE.

Speaking of attitudes, the Richard Simmons/Harley-Davidson connection would be HERE. Oh yes.

Happy Sunday
PwA