Cat-skills

I'm not talking about kittens...

Friday morning, September 7th, I took off for the run. Weaved my way through the NYC streets on my way to Jersey for the kick off at Cool Beans Coffee shop. I had a rough idea of where I was going, getting to the spot as the masses of bikes were leaving a little after 10 am.

As soon as I got to the jump-off point I pulled up to Walter(Kickstart Cycle) at the back of the pack. With my full-face on, he didn't know who I was. As soon as I told him, it was as if I hadn't seen him in ten years. If you don't know him, take it from me, Walter is the shit!

I grabbed gas as fast as I could across the street and took off, catching up to a small group of riders, hoping they knew where to go. Zig-zagging our way through neighborhoods, we eventually caught up to the entire group. 400+ bikes strong, rolling through town after town, not stopping. Stop signs, we kept rolling. Red light, we kept rolling. Police trying to stop us, we kept rolling. People were in awe as we passed by, what seemed to be a never-ending stream of loud motorcycles. It was one of the coolest runs/events I have ever been a part of.

With this many bikes, we took over gas stations, overwhelming the workers who had no idea of what was heading their way. There were crack-ups and breakdowns, splitting the pack into smaller groups throughout the day. By chance, I got hooked up with a good group of guys, about eight bikes in total. A couple FXR's, a sporty, a bagger, a few smaller chops, and a fuel spilling panhead. All East-coast guys with Bill from Biltwell who flew in from Cali. 

Thank god these guys knew where we were headed, because I wouldn't have been able to find my way. In time, we had to cheat, strapping a smartphone to one of the gas tanks for navigation.

Got to the campground, took it over, and started to party. Anything and everything you could imagine at a biker party. I had to laugh, there was an old lady, I mean OLD, sitting in her lawn chair next to her RV with her yapping dog right next to her. I turned to the guy I was talking with and said, "that lady is gonna want to go to bed in a couple hours, and that shit ain't gonna happen." I could only imagine her screaming at her old man for draggin' her out to the country for what they thought was gonna be a quiet evening of camping. Little did they know, over 400 bikes were headed for the same spot....must've been an "oh shit" kind of moment when bikes kept rolling in, over and over and over. 

Got loaded, walking from one camping spot to the next taking shots straight out of the bottle with my pockets loaded with beers. Seeming like one of the only loners there, rolling solo from Denver, I make friends along the way. I was, on the other hand, hoping to run into my friend Brett from Jersey. Being dark as hell and with people everywhere, I figured I didn't have a chance of bumping into him. I did though, along with our buddy Andy(American Icon Screenprinting), and the three of us continued to get lit. Good times with these two, always a blast.

Rich and T-Rod will get a kick out of this one... With a massive pile of firewood, guess which drunk-ass was feeding this fire? Sure, it started off small, but that fucker was about 8 ft high when I got done with it.