Anniversary Paintings!

For our 10th anniversary, Meg commisioned our friend Virginia Earle to paint two of my bikes and my car. So fucking rad. 1969 CB160. 

1964 Valiant convertible 

1973 CB350F. 

I got us a replica of the lighthouse where we got married for the cake.

Our wedding day, 7-27-02.

We went back to the lighthouse a couple weeks ago. Looks like we've shrunk!

Evidence LXXIII: New One, Skip the Old One

I had some trucks to deliver to Adam, and was gonna meet a bunch of folks at his house. Permission pool, we usually save it for out of town heads, but he called me to tell me he cleaned it (and I had those trucks for him, thanks Rhino!). So I drive up there, but the crew is lagging. Go to TT Roadhouse for a beer, then get the call to meet them at a new one. So I split. Joe Dirt, above, showed us all what's up. 

I got there first, solo, and tromped around. Looked like a sick little pond, but maybe a little Lumpy Rutherford. Where's the pool? 

Oh, there it is. 

Court does it. 

The weird lost memories associated with speedy move outs and abandoned spots. 

Joe Dirt, Texas Two-Step, Shallow grind. 

Evidence... of Dickbird?

Evidence LXXII: Back East skating, and J. JEsse is so hot right now!

First spot to skate: the Manchester, New Hampshire, park. Rough, janky, thugged out environs. Tricky trannies (likely in more than one sense of the word). Grass growing out of coping. I made it my mission to try to grind this grass off. After 20-25 grinds, it was only half way there and I gave up. Nature wins. 

In case you weren't sure, sluts, STDs are not Pokemon (but you get them from playing pokey-mon). 

Evidence at a top-secret DIY spot in Narraquansekonk. 

Xeno gets up and stands up on his frontside grind, death box, Nashua. 

The elusive Doug E. Death caught on camera, with Xeno. I rode the bus from New Bedford to Boston, South Station, where these guys picked me up and drove me around, and we wound up in New Hampshire, then back to the station. Traffic jam made it more sensible to skate the last 10 blocks with Xeno so I could make my buss. I got there so sweaty, and didn't stop sweating until we were halfway home. Nobody sat next to me.  

A few days later, Attleboro! I love this spot! It's getting a little saggy in places, and it takes a little getting used to, but it's killer. So killer, in facture, THAT NATURE IS TAKING OVER!. 

Including a little fungus emerging next to the coping. 

Evidence! 

After the session at Attleboro, we high tailed it back to Newport, where there was a fancy-schmancy surfboard show at the Doris Duke mansion. Cool old ones above. It was a sold-out event, but Big Tim pulled some strings and we were in. Big ups Big Tim! 

 

If you look at any moto blogs ever, you'd know that Jason Jesse is so hot right now! Seriously moto blogs, I know he build sick bikes but please stop dangling off his nuts so we skateboarders can hang out again. With my pal D. Rogers.

Back East, Part II

Always stoked to see the Mattapoisett seahorse when I roll into town. Another photo below. 

This is where Meg and I got married, 9 years 357 days ago. You do the math and figure out what's up. 

One of the other things I am super stoked on is this water tower at the top of Vick and Tim's street. Old as dirt -- well, as you can see below, about 100 years old -- with the coolest rivets and studs and rust and lichen and peeling paint and... you name it 

 

 

Punk rock! 

 

 

Try unbolting that. 

\

Ye old fibreglass fisherman at the park near the seahorse has seen better days. 

There's that seahorse. 

A morning in Boston to see Ryan before we split. Old wall, peeling paint. 

Was about to buy these local beers to bring to Christine and Josh's before we split, until the $15 price tag became evident. Good to see those guys, and their kids Theo and Eli, who are starting to shred the rad on the scooterboards. Too bad our session got rained out...

Back East, Part I

First stop on our trip: Maine, to see Meg's aunt and uncle, cousins and nieces. Such a killer time. Meg's relatives are all first rate, we always have a good time, including the mandatory lobster chow down. Ate so much seafood, and just relaxed.  

Went for a spin in the kayak on day two, and went swimming. Damn cold. Shrinkage. 

This is Meg's cousin Mark explaining to her Aunt Sandy what "Vajazzled" means.

On the 4th day, we went to New Hampshire to visit one of Meg's great aunts. Nascar in the parking lot. "YEah, I drive the Cheez-It car..." 

On to Mattapoisett on day 5, then we turn around and head to Provincetown on Cape Cod with Vick and Tim the next day.  

It was "Bear Week" and the streets were filled with burly, hairy gladiators. It was awesome.

Back to Mattapoisett... 

Meg and I lucked in to an open house at the lighthouse where we got married. I had never been in it. 

Meg showing the 88-year-old docent her Ned Point lighthouse tattoo. The woman told us an awesome story of meeting her husband in Bremerton during WWII. 

Nice BSA B40 in a vintage store window in New Bedford. Despite it's rough and tumble reputation, people in New Beige are usually pretty fucking nice.