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Wave the Flag
T h u r s d a y ,   N o v e m b e r   6 ,   2 0 0 8 

Snapped this pic on Sunday out in Greenport while I was just poking around. It just seems kind of fitting for this week~

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Duck, Duc... Puss
S u n d a y ,   O c t o b e r   2 6 ,   2 0 0 8 

It was unseasonably warm today, near 70 degrees the last I looked at about 2:30. I popped out for about 2 hours on the Duc this afternoon. Being that she is no longer my main ride, it often takes me a half an hour to get acclimated to her idiosyncrasies and to scrub the pussy-shine off the tires. I'm always a little hesitant those first 30 miles or so. No doubt volumes can and have been written about the behavior of this red devil. She’s not nice.  She doesn’t want to be your friend and she sure as hell isn’t afraid to let you know. I know another girl like that.

I must be some sort of masochist because I think that all of these things are precisely what draws me to her. She’s my dysfunctional relationship. She’s mean, but oh so beautiful and I love her too much to quit her. When things with her are good, it’s h-o-t.  You get off of her with a big smile on your face and butterflies of excitement in your belly. When things go bad… just like dealing with any other hot tempered woman, it is an exercise in frustration.

The more you muscle her, the more resistant she becomes. She takes a light touch. You’ve got to use your whole body with her move around on the seat, weight the pegs, never loading up the bars. If you are passive with her, she will walk all over you.

For some people, it’s the toilet but me, I do all of my best thinking on the bike. Sadly all of my incredibly brilliant thoughts evaporate into the ether once the key is turned off.  Obviously.

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All I want for Christmas
T u e s d a y ,   O c t o b e r   2 1 ,   2 0 0 8 

...is my two front teeth squarely kicked out by the delicious ferociousness that is Confederate Motorcycles? Wellllll, no. Not really. But, no doubt it looks like their new offering the C120 Renaissance Fighter just might be up for that task.


photo: Confederate.com

Confederate is offering their new toy through the Neiman Marcus Christmas Book. Go where the money is, I guess.

I think their bikes are a visual dance of post-apocalyptic beauty. Clearly not a sentiment shared by all.

Thoughts?

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If These Boots Could Talk
T h u r s d a y ,   O c t o b e r   1 6 ,   2 0 0 8 

These are my boots. They’ve seen 7 years of riding, these boots have. A testament to their quality, I’d say. $260 well spent.

7 years is a pretty major commitment for a girl to have with a single footwear item. Sun, rain and even snow, salt, ice, oil, laughter and tears. They’ve ridden through many states, many miles and sat perched on the pegs of a few different bikes. We’ve gone a long way together, met a lot of nice people, me and these old Sidis. I guess that must be why I have developed some strange attachment to them.

Their soles are crumbling, the heels rounded, the Velcro on the left calf has pretty much given up the ghost and still I keep pulling them on. What was once shiny silver is now an odd shade of… green? And after so many rain soaked rides, hot highway miles and general wear and tear, let’s just say they leave a little to be desired in the smell department.

No pun intended, but I’ve really been dragging my feet in finding a replacement for these super funky boots of mine. But, in the interest of safety it may be time to move on. Now comes the hard part. Exactly which boots should I replace them with? This pretty much means I’ll be wearing these for another year while I decide.

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Too Good to Let it Go
T h u r s d a y ,   O c t o b e r   1 6 ,   2 0 0 8 

I went out for my first ride in three weeks this past Monday. I popped out of bed, happy that it was a holiday and knowing that all of my responsibilities were suspended for the majority of the day. My mental fog must have finally begun to clear as the first thing that I thought of was... I'm going for a ride.

Armed with exactly no plan, we set out for a few hours on the island. It was one of those days were the road just seemed to pull me along without my consciousness having too much say in the matter. We cruised out passed Sag Harbor, through South Hampton and ultimately stopping to have lunch in Montauk. Hours literally evaporated from my day. It felt really nice to just roll along.

The Shagwong
Best name for a restaurant, ever. Say it out loud. No, really. Awesome, right? Shagwong, shagwong, shagwong...

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