harvey's bike troubles begin with a broken rubber mounted exhaust bracket.
patrick and i were ahead of the gang and so took a walk to wait for them.
one of our many photo-ops. bunch of badass tourists.
harvey has a small chopper tank and has to stop every 70-80 miles to fill up. when our secret chase truck wasn't around, we had to improvise.
the beautiful thing about a trip by motorcycle is that you're on your own most of the time. that said, its situations like these; the gas stops,
the breakdowns and the cigarette breaks, that make the trip. the groups i've ridden with have a propensity to rush, to hurry up and get your gas, take
a piss and go. it's an efficient way to travel but entirely defeats the point of travelling with friends.
these moments of aggrivation, exhaustion and levity are the things you will remember. i don't remember any fucking corners.
harvey went to photo school but these days, is embarrassed to be seen with a camera for fear of being referred to as an "artist."
he's a really good photographer though.
the good vibes mvp's holding it down.
patrick was telling us that his nickname in high school was "killer"
logan prepares for a dip in icy waters.
it's easy to yell "get in, you pussy" from the shore.