Though I don’t drink soda or smoke, I do have an affinity for tobacco and soda wall advertising. Whenever I see a Coca-Cola ghost ad, it feels like a win for the day.
Previously I posted a few ghost ads that I saw in Middletown, New York. One that I left out of that post was this lovely 2-sided dame from Union Street.
Delicious and Refreshing
5¢ Sold Everywhere 5¢
One side of the building is now covered in vines and ivy. Just based on the “Co,” I wish I knew the condition of the rest of the words hiding below that creeping jungle.
Coca-Cola Ghost Ad
This Coca-Cola ghost spotted in Phillipsburg, NJ a few weeks ago, also has a Bull Durham Tobacco layer for a nice one, two punch.
Delicious and Refreshing
With Kenny on his big, lovely lady and me on my wee lass, we made a pretty odd-looking couple cruising around together in the Delaware Water Gap area.
The more I get to know the Bonnie, the more it seems like home. Because it is so comparatively tiny in stature to what I’ve ridden for the last few years, it feels so easy. Being able to put both feet flat on the ground at any time is a simple pleasure. Who knew?
Along Old Mine Road:
“I’d like to talk to you about our lord and savior Cthulhu.”
When I saw this, I was immediately struck with a raging case of mailbox envy! Sadly my faith in the teenage humanity around my neighborhood is limited. We’re on our third mailbox.
My handsome fella on his 990 Adventure with her street shoes on. You can find him on Instagram posting his own pics and whatnot: braapshit_crazy
The Layton Country Store’s Mail Pouch mural is slowly succumbing to the elements.
Last weekend I did my first solo riding in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey on the KTM. Up to that point, my riding in the Pines had always been with friends. But when you’re a boat anchor, you have to know when to cut the tether and let everyone else float away. It’s no fun to feel like you’re holding people up and it’s no fun for them to be held up. That’s how I found myself moseyin’ around in the forest on my own.
The games that we play with ourselves to deal with feeling unsure are funny. I happily ride alone most of the time. But I reasoned that if I was going to be in the forest, I needed to keep myself in places where I could easily relay my location if I needed help. It sounds funny now when I type it out – I wasn’t in Siberia or anything. But the mind works in mysterious ways sometimes.
Following the easy extraction plan meant keeping mostly to roads that had names that I could read on my Zumo 660 GPS. It has only road maps loaded.
When you’re in Wharton State Forest (if you are unfamiliar with the area) you might be surprised what constitutes a road. It can often be a sandy 2-track affair, covered in pine needles, encroaching branches and looks like nothing has traveled on it for years. And yet, glancing at the GPS you’ll find yourself Traveling on X Road.
Granted, in more rural areas than south Jersey maybe you’re used to 2 track forest roads. Not quite as common here in congestion-land.
All in all my first ride alone in the forest was pretty awesome. I got to stop and take pictures, lollygag while looking at trees and streams and the light filtering through – it was exactly what I love about road riding alone. I can hardly wait find myself there amongst the pines again.
Every time that I ride the 690, I am acutely aware of what a great decision it was to buy it. Why did I wait so long?
During my Christmas break, I was able to spend a lot of time doing whatever the hell I wanted. As you might imagine, riding motorcycles factored highly in to whatever the hell I wanted.
A few days after picking up the KTM, I took a trip down to south Jersey to ride the sandy Pine Barrens with my most excellent friend Gary.
Gary and me – summer 2014
When we stopped at the fire tower at Apple Pie Hill, there was some graffiti painted on one of the barriers that just called my name. The always looking for signs part of me immediately felt that I was supposed to see it. And maybe I was.
“The positive will outweigh the negative.”
Every. Damn. Day.
This is just a silly little video clip from a ride I did in the pine barrens of south Jersey with my friend Gary last week.
Because of the way that video seems to flatten everything out, you don’t really see what the terrain was like. The profile of this particular sand road is something along the line of the inside of an egg carton or the edges a lasagna noodle. They call ’em whoop-di-dos or whoops. You can get some idea of what they’re like by watching Gary’s front fender bobbing up and down.
Though Gary is a zippy singletrack rider, he also takes time out to ride with slugs like me. We call these slow rides our “unicorn hunting” rides. Hell, we’ll even stop and take pictures sometimes. He is incredibly patient with my silliness.
When we ride together, we link up on our Sena headsets and chit-chat all day. That seems to help keep me from thinking about riding. Plus, he lets me know if Bigfoot is in the road up ahead or anything. The GoPro seems to pick up our conversations very well…
Ride it, baby. Ride it. Giddyup!
Words to live by.