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52 Search Results for "jeans"

• venice choppers babe venice choppers babe

  • From: cwallace5150
  • Description:

    venice choppers babe

  • 3 days ago
  • Views: 177

• Best Biker Babe Butt contest Best Biker Babe Butt contest

  • From: BoonDog
  • Description:

     

    be truthful, does anybody out there actually look forward to my unofficial biker babe thursdays?

    today - Best Biker Babe Butt contest - vote for your favorite by clicking on the picture and giving her 4 or 5 stars!

  • 1 week ago
  • Views: 294
  • Not yet rated

• Sturgis 2010 Beer Garden Babe Sturgis 2010 Beer Garden Babe

  • From: OutCast666
  • Description:

    Sturgis 2010 Beer Garden Babe

  • 3 weeks ago
  • Views: 41

• biker babe contest biker babe contest

  • From: BoonDog
  • Description:

    hey- here it is thursday again and one more time for my unofficial biker babe contest

  • 2 months ago
  • Views: 284

• Ride the Mountain Ride the Mountain

  • From: Art_Hall_Photography
  • Description:

    Ride the Mountain

    5500 bikers rode "up the hill" to attend the 2010 Ride the Mountain hosted by Big Bear Choppers.

    Art Hall Photography

  • 3 months ago
  • Views: 327

• Then we take Berlin... Then we take Berlin...

  • From: r1madbrit
  • Description:

    It would be hard to ask for anything better. The sun was shining and at last the temperature is summer grade instead of arctic. My tank bag/tail pack arrived the day before departure. I had spent hours running around looking for a tank bag in case it didn’t arrive but hated the strap-on tank bags. Way too messy and complicated and even they wouldn’t work on the RSV.

    I was none too pleased to realise that it has a plastic tank. Even more irritating was to discover that the dealer who sold it to the previous owner had done a PDI and not even noticed that the filler cap assembly had no seals. Petrol poured from a filled tank on hard acceleration and, trust me, a burning willie does not make for a fun ride. I will get the proper gaskets but there was no way to get them before my first big ride. So I used a huge O ring from some tractor oil filter. It’s not a perfect fit but it seems to have done the job. I was averaging about 40-42mpg and the first tankful on the ride to Dover averaged over 50mpg. That was at speeds of about 80mph for 90% of the trip. The M25 was flowing nicely and THAT was a miracle akin to turning water into wine. Tanked up and booked in I rolled to the ferry with no passport checks and was ushered onto the Sea France ferry within 5 minutes of arrival by biker-friendly staff. I'm a member of MAG and booked through Sport Travel Solutions (Julie Warnes) after reading her advert and saved quite some money.

    Sea France had solid fixings and a clean, modern, spacious ship. I chatted to a few bikers. Some riding to watch MotoGP at Le Mans, two French lads that had just completed a tour of England and Wales and a well-travelled Buell rider and his partner that were touring the Rhine. The English are a bit reserved in answering questions about where they hail from so we laughed when we eventually discovered we were virtually neighbours! Off I wandered amongst 10 million school kids from all over Europe and grabbing a cold beer sat at a table looking at France and listening to Bob Dylan and Mick Jagger on my MP3. The sun was still shining!

     

    I had pre-booked my hotel in Duisburg and agreed to do my best to be there by 8:30pm. I was off the ferry at 5pm and had to do 380Km in 3 1/2 hours.  Not a big problem...until one learned that it was a European bank holiday and that some twit in Antwerp managed to stuff his car into someone else's bloody 'baby on board' 4x4 barge. As my sister says, "I hope he had the courtesy to kill himself". 50Km of 'Stau' and I get to crawl through at 20Km per hour! Once out the other end of the nightmare I hunkered down behind the screen and leathered it. It's not all that pleasurable across Belgium. There are only 40 ton articulated lorries from Poland and Slovenia on their motorways. Solid walls of these behemoths prevent anyone from entering or exiting the motorways!

    I finally managed to make the Netherlands (I call it the Never-never-lands on account of the boredom). There I noted that all humans in a car are TOWING. I mean TOWING. Trailers, caravans, fold-down-tents, anything as long as they tow something! I now know that Dutch babies are born with an "anhangerkuplung" (towball) on their arse. There does seem to be a competition between how many bicycles you can attach to the rear of your Volvo and how upright you can sit as you tow your caravan but in general the scheme is simple. Bring Germany to a halt by towing things at a slow pace.

    I finally entered Germany at some ungodly speed. Well, it was actually quite modest but on an Aprilia RSV1000 120mph FEELS like 280mph. All my mental calculations to stay awake worked as I rolled past the Duisberg 'Chemie Fabrik stink' and a bit beyond that pong found my hotel. Very nice for the price. As the landlady rushed out for her night out I sauntered to a pub for Frikedelen (hamburgers with nothing but mustard) and a few Weissbier. The people were so friendly it was embarrassing.

    

    Saturday morning I enjoyed a superb german breakfast for old times sake and headed off to see an old friend near Bielefeld. I got there on time to find he had a very clean Yamaha 750 V-twin Super Tenere. We rode to his new house in the forest and then said our goodbyes. 400Km to my daughter's apartment in Berlin. It was 2pm. Could I make it for my estimated 6pm? Try 6:05 mate! And it would have been 5:30pm but for Google maps!

    So I managed Berlin at the said time and really liked it. That city needs a few visits to get it all. My daughter Stephanie and her husband Paul took me around on Sunday on a mountain bike with a hatchet for a saddle but even the medeival torture machine couldn't spoil the day. I was most amazed by the number of canals/tributaries/rivers...hence the map link as I remembered just how important rivers are in European history. No river? Your a NOBODY DUDE!  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Elbe_Einzugsgebiet.png 

     During one of our walks to a really cool Sunday market we saw a baby bird learning to fly. I patted it and as I took it's photo the mother flew down and fed it a grub! The poor little bugger flew into windows and cars but was learning quickly. It reminded me of my riding...crash, try again, crash, try again. The Sunday market was packed and my favourite was the 'beach bar'. Soft sand, cool beer and live music. Check out the photo of the 'Ordungsamt' chap. It means Orderliness Bureau! Only in Germany eh?

    Then off to Dresden where I tried to warm up at a petrol station en route and met Peter the Aussie pilot with a 1951 VW Beetle. Dresden was lovely but my stop was just for a few moments to snap some pics. Then on to Prague. I stopped near the border to learn that as a motorcyclist I did not need to buy a Vignette for the motorways for 10Euros. (£2,000 I assume by today's rates - I renamed the GBP as Great British Pesos).                                                                                         The flat, boring roads gave way to increasing hills of serious height and beauty. The roads here are very good as motorways and even the rougher small roads are in FAR better repair than Britains A roads. It's unbelievable to suddenly view England as a third world country (try 4th world). The bike has been perfect but as I entered Prague in rush hour the clutch hydraulics began to play up a wee bit and gave me a few anxious moments as the bike tried to imitate one of those bucking-bull rides at big BBQs. Arriving in rush hour with a grabby clutch and looking for somewhere to stay (cheap) had me a tad stressed for 5 minutes. I spotted some 'apartments' and enquired. Cheap, 10 minutes from the old town and I can cook for myself. Cool. The fact that my Aprilia is right opposite a Police station has me smug as a bug in a rug.

    1/2 an hour later I was off with my camera in my now ripped jeans (damn!) as my leathers aired in a spacious room with TV and WiFi. Endless lanes and gorgeous buildings soon had me lost but not worried. I was opposite the Florence Police station so I didn't need to memorize Vrdlakbkyzchy...

    After another glorious day it's started to rain so I decided to spend the evening with a few Czech biers and some Moldavian red wine in my cheapo apartment. I'll cook some pasta later. I have a million photos of Prague (A MUST VISIT CITY) and I really loved the views in Dresden too. How beautiful it must have been before Churchill ordered it's destruction (Retaliation for the bombing of Coventry) is beyond imagining. Hence the map (I LOVE maps!) of the Elbe that starts here and flows to Hamburg. (Not McDonalds you duffers! The original city!) By the way, I'm enjoying an ORIGINAL Budweiser (Budvar) beer! Looks like Anhauser-Busch even stole the logo!

    I'm not keen on the food here. The tins in the supermarket have that 'eastern' "soviet troops in the trenches" look and seems to be mostly fish of suspicious origin. Smoking is so common that all you hear in adjoining rooms is the splatter of lung-chunks against walls. It's easy to spot eastern slav guys. They look like avatars through the fag smoke...Borat has nothing on my political incorrectness eh?

    I was too busy gawking at the architecture to Czech out the Czicks but this city has a lot of nice looking ladies. The problem is - they speak Czech! OMG is this an UGLY language! I have taken photos of some posters and signs. The best was a political poster (one assumes) with the slogan  of Vrzlidgy pidgy! That's as close as I can come. Brzldvky vldsaziky prznatsky says it all. Everything ends in the letter Y. See my blog photos (coming soon to a cinema near you) of Mezy Hot Dogy available at all good petrol stations. One assumes mustard is available too...

     

    Reading your little free hotel map is beyond mortals with an IQ under 4678 but the people like English and it's amazing how many speak it well enough to help. I use the sun to navigate.

     

    Well it looks like I am facing rain for the last 2 1/2 days of my ride but I'll bet I scoot through untouched! hahahaha. My froggtoggs suit kept me warm on the ride south from Berlin so if it keeps me dry tomorrow then all's well. I'll attempt to post a photo album of my trip. I say attempt as these web blogs are horrific to work with.

    Hope you are all safe and sound and happy and very jealous...

    As we say in Prague... Vczsky mldgvisky brnosknzgky. Go figure.

  • Blog post
  • 3 months ago
  • Views: 78

• missing child - PGR alert - ne missing child - PGR alert - need help on May 15

  • From: cwallace5150
  • Description:
    We need your help!!! David Pedens who rides with the PGR and Abate  David's Son 28 year old son Ricky has been missing for a week now FBI and Marshals have been called in to assist in search Tomorrow morning We need as many folks as we can get to assist in a walk through search of the surrounding area of Ricky's Home in Wesson Ms Bring horses and 4 wheelers and a good pair of walking shoes Long sleeved shirts and Jea
  • 4 months ago
  • Views: 43
  • Forum: Mississipp...

• 2010 H-D Sportster Forty-Eight 2010 H-D Sportster Forty-Eight

  • From: Art_Hall_Photography
  • Description:

    2010 H-D Sportster Forty-Eight

    Peanut Fuel tank

    Chopped front end

    Slammed speedo and under mount mirrors

    Side mounted license plate

    Low slung seat

    Rubber mounted 1200cc Evolution motor

    
    

    Art Hall Photography

  • 5 months ago
  • Views: 78
  • Not yet rated

• Indian Motorcycle Los Angeles Indian Motorcycle Los Angeles

  • From: Art_Hall_Photography
  • Description:

    APRIL 17-18   HARBOR CITY, CA 
    INDIAN MOTORCYCLE LOS ANGELES GRAND OPENING

    The West Coast relaunch of America’s first motorcycle. 

    Indian Motorcycle Los Angeles – 1521 Pacific Coast Highway
    

    Art Hall Photography

  • 5 months ago
  • Views: 178
  • Not yet rated

• Kuala Lumpur Kuala Lumpur

  • From: Art_Hall_Photography
  • Description:

    Kuala Lumpur

    Art Hall Photography

  • 6 months ago
  • Views: 250
  • Not yet rated

• Rip's BAD Ride Kick Off Party Rip's BAD Ride Kick Off Party and Poker Run

  • From: Rips
  • Description:

     

    

    March 21, 2010

    Rip's BAD Ride Kick Off Party
    and Poker Run.

    A special thanks to Bartels H-D in Marina Del Rey, California for hosting the
    Rip's BAD Ride kick off party and poker run.

    

    The poker run did stops at Lawndale Cycle, Cycle Gear, and Hooters of Long Beach. We thank all these sponsors for their fight against diabetes.

    

    

    

    We also want to thank MotoZania for their continued efforts in supporting
    Rip's BAD Ride.

    

    Be sure to mark down June 13, 2010 in your calendar for the Southern California Rip's BAD Ride. Come out and join thousands of other bikers as we help to put an end to diabetes.

     

     

  • 6 months ago
  • Views: 77
  • Not yet rated

• sweetness sweetness

  • From: BoonDog
  • Description:
  • 6 months ago
  • Views: 501

• uhhhh...OK uhhhh...OK

  • From: BoonDog
  • Description:
  • 7 months ago
  • Views: 987

• Yamaha R1 Yamaha R1

  • From: BoonDog
  • Description:

    Yamaha R1 - guess it went fast enough to rip her shirt off

  • 7 months ago
  • Views: 278
  • Not yet rated

• Spiker815

  • Views: 103
  • Since: 8 months ago

• The Christmas Pageant The Christmas Pageant

  • From: Nat
  • Description:

    Reprinted from last Christmas, with a bit of a Bluegrass Hymn added at the end.
    
    So it was off to church tonight with my daughter home for the holidays from Denver.A traditional Christmas service with the choir in robes over blue jeans , Christmas dresses, and Doc Martins.Even saw a guy with a pair of white dress shoes ala Pat Boone. Christmas hymns and children reading the Christmas story. Silent Night, Holy Night, the shepherds showed up with a toy mechanical sheep. The middle school angel Gabriel looked bored and despondent, The virgin Mary is wearing her traditional Jewish robe over blue jeans and sandals, (not Croc's ), complete with hoop ear rings and chewing gum. Looking like a Bronx girl,( read with a New York accent), "Of course I'm a virgin, what You think I'm from Jersey or somethin", ,looks absently into space and pops her gum. Joseph the carpenter carries a staff like a Shepard and sleeps sitting upright as Gabriel yawns and looks on. At the reading of the virgin birth a woman appears out of the congregation and surrenders her infant child into to the arms of Mary still smacking her gum. I don't know whether to laugh or cry. I cry, for suddenly for an instant as O Come all ye Faithful rings out across the sanctuary,the gum chewing stops and Mary bends towards the child in her arms, Madonna and child in a far away manger . God's greatest gift to all humanity manifested there before me. My heart cries out with love for a savior born so long ago to suffer for all my misdeeds. My heart purified ,I stand to leave as Mary chews her gum and a mother reaches for her infant child. My hand stretched out before me to each hand I see, Merry Christmas on my smiling lips,my heart purified by joy unspeakable. Joy to the World a Savior is born . Christ be with you all, Merry Christmas, Shawn
    
    Working on building your heart
    He's a working on a building your heart
    With a firm foundation that won't fall apart
    He's a working on a building your heart
    
    Working on tearing down walls
    He's working on tearing down walls
    Pull away the distractions so you hear when He calls
    Working on a tearing down walls
    
    Ever abiding love
    Sent down from Heaven above
    Ever abiding love
    Sent down from Heaven above
    
    Baby was born in a manger
    To cast out His life on a hill
    His body was battered and broken
    But not his love or His will
    
    Working on building your heart
    He's a working on a building your heart
    With a firm foundation that won't fall apart
    He's a working on a building your heart

  • Blog post
  • 9 months ago
  • Views: 68
  • Not yet rated

• Goodbye to Cowboys Goodbye to Cowboys

  • From: Nat
  • Description:

    This has been a hard post to make, I have searched for words worthy in its creation. An ode to youth gone before its fruition and promise lost to the ages. Memories forever cherished. D.J. Pederson was everything you would want, Handsome, pleasant, athletic. The 18 year old homecoming King off to college to fulfill his dreams, a cowboy, and a racer, who built the motor in his old ford 4 wheeler. He left this world to soon on a Sunday morning in October in a one car accident east of North Platte ,Nebraska. His life will be always remembered by all who loved him.
    
    
    There is snow falling in Denver, lots of it. Most days I am little concerned about the weather in Denver but this day I detest the falling snow. My daughter is three and a half hours away trapped in that falling snow. Two hundred and eighty six miles to the east at Brady, Nebraska I am standing outside of  the small high school cut off from my daughter by the weather. On a cold , cloudy October day, the 28th , the day of my daughters birthday, family and friends of D.J. Pederson gather to play out the final acts of his life and death in this world.
    Brady, Nebraska is a small town of 360 people 25 miles east of North Platte, Nebraska. The Union Pacific tracks separate the north side of Brady from the south side and a chain link fence runs the length of town along them. North and south are joined by a walkway that crosses above the Union Pacific tracks in the middle of town and a highway overpass on the west end of town which crosses both tracks and highway 30 as well as the Platte River south of town to link Brady with I-80 . David and Stacy Pederson ran a gas station, convenience store there until fuel prices and economic down turn drove them out of business. They are a typical hard working Midwest family with two boys D.J. and Brody and a girl Crystal. D.J. is a cowboy and loves his old Ford pick up, he likes to play in the mud in it.He raced go carts while growing up before moving to a modified with his father David. Lincoln County Speedway in North Platte is where they go to race on weekends.
    Wednesday morning breaks to a sunless gray Nebraska sky threatening rain as we set out from North Platte to Brady. Somewhere along the way the van ahead of me slows down and we look off to the left to see the scene of  the final tragedy of D.J.s young life. I don't want to look but at the same time can't compel myself not to. There is a pole lying by the road severed by the violence of the impact. I think of Jim Cormans words to me the previous Friday night. When a red tail Hawk hits a rabbit it takes it with such force as to almost tear the skin completely from its body. Violence exist in this world, he says it is a part of it. I look back at the scene of the accident.
    And it's strange to see your story end
    How I hate to see your story end
    It's so sad to see your story end, Ohio ,Over The Rhine
    We arrive in Brady for the service, we embrace one another without words, there are none to give. Small talk is made over cups of coffee in the cafeteria as the gymnasium fills with people. We emerge from the family room for the service to find the gym filled with over 600 people. David tells me later a third of the crowd were from the racing community around North Platte. Racers and race fans have a sense of community rarely seen elsewhere. The media was amazed when people around the country most of whom had never known Dale Earnhardt and many like myself who were not fans of his came together to grieve his loss. I cornered a guy behind one of the ovens at work who used to be a bar bouncer, a real tough guy and said Man you gotta deal with it. He hugged me and cried, I can't believe he's gone. Such was the power of a man named Dale , such is the sense of community found on the Saturday night dirt tracks all over America.
    After the service there is a long drive to the cemetery just south of Moorefeild, Nebraska past Jeffery Reservoir south on Brady Moorefeild road which turns from pavement to dirt and winds through the hills of Nebraska lined with canyons carved by glaciers and gives me a view of Nebraska I have never seen from the drab comfort of I-80 winding across Nebraska's Platte river valley.
    Cowboys are the pallbearers, tough resolute looking young men in rodeo vest with black cowboy hats and western shirts. Boots wore with their jeans stuffed  inside in some cases and spurs. They are stoic in their charge, standing by as if guards of a sacred tomb. They observe the service as though unmoved though I know they are among D.J.s closest friends. I watch with them in silence .Setting my mind against the pain until Brody , D.J.'s brother kisses a rose and places it on the casket, "Goodbye big brother " ,he says as my heart breaks. I move toward the edge of the crowd and beyond fighting back the tears as the cowboys guard the grave with their still stoic faces.
    Back in Brady at the community center the cell phone rings and I go outside of the metal building to get a better signal to talk to my daughter on her birthday. She reminds me of her last memory of D.J..Sitting with his father David in a booth, smiling and laughing at the truck stop diner where we had breakfast the Sunday after my 50th birthday celebration. I remember it to and see it in my mind.I remember as well Dean Curry killed by a road packer the summer after his senior year of high school. Just a summer job to earn some extra money for college. Leon Honse and Tiny Clark, Leon and I gave Tiny a ride to where he had left his car the night before and helped him get it started. Within three years they were both dead. I think about Rick Taylor killed in his early twenty's down the road 4 miles from where I now live, New Years day,1987. I told my wife months later still grieving I wished it could have been me instead of him. Kim MCcullick when we were 12 who the year before went from a vibrant pleasant girl to a gaunt quiet waif who stood at the edge of the playground and then after awhile came to school only once in awhile. Then the news that she would never return.  
    We may ask ourselves at times like this where is God in the midst of my pain. Or we may ask ourselves simply why. I am without answers to these questions,but for the story of a young Galilean, drug to an unjust death well before his time , willingly that many who would otherwise suffer eternal death could find freedom. For this is the love of God that while we were still sinners opposed to his will and love for us.He sent his only son to die for our sin. Surely the Father of all that is understands the pain of life lost. Of the passing of a son through suffering and death to bring hope to the unjust.
    Today has been a difficult day for me. One when priority's are thrown to the wind. The kind that are hardest for me to live at times because it seems as if I am ever falling farther behind in the things I deem to be important. On days like this I think about those who have passed before and wonder if they would complain at having one more day even a bad one. It makes those days easier to see as the gift they are. It helps to remind us our days are short, it tears at our heart for love ones departed this earth. But it begs to ponderance as well perhaps in the presence of a love so great as Christ's who hesitated not to cast his life forth for us as sinners, one would grieve only for those still left behind. To life and the memory of those who cause our hearts to remember love. To D.J. Pederson, and eternal rest.

  • Blog post
  • 10 months ago
  • Views: 63
  • Not yet rated

• clean - too bad it ISN'T a jok clean - too bad it ISN'T a joke

  • From: gill
  • Description:

    A beautiful fairy appeared one day to a destitute refugee outside an Arizona immigration office. 10 months ago Views: 60 Forum: JOKES... The Road to Paradise The Road to Paradise From: Nat Description:  Last week I wrote of riding motorcycles in storms. A trip to the cemetery on Sunday,and two days of riding home from work in the rain. My last day of work it was raining when I got up to leave in the morning so I opted for the pickup. I kind of ran out of time Thursday to finish my post as I wanted to and so concluded it by trying to make a link with rain storms and the storms we go through spiritually in life. Gods refining storms.Little did I know I was setting a president for my trip to Colorado,LOL. Thursday began with a few modifications for safety to the motorcycle trailer. I had no idea it would be Thursday night before it was finished. The trailer took some time to complete and then the bike wouldn't start, after about 30 minutes of searching a loose connector was found. Bike loaded we set off for Wal-Mart about 5 o'clock and just before we got ready to hit I -35 I realized I had left the motorcycle key at the house in my work jeans. Back to the house for the key and a quick trip to Mcdonalds for food and we were on our way. We talked awhile and hunkered down for the typical boring trip across western Kansas. We stopped for gas at Ellis and somewhere past there  turned on the radio and watched as the setting sun slipped over the edge of the world. A gas stop in western Kansas yielded the discovery of an absence of all but one working tail light on the Jeep. After about 30 minutes with an electrical tester I decided I would take a chance on not getting pulled over and hit the road. Not till I spent another 20 minutes talking with a pizza eating truck driver on the curb in front of the gas stop about conspiracy theories and the person of Christ though. Back on the road I had the grace to only be passed by three cars between Limon and Commerce City. Only one car behind me on Tower road ,just followed me at a distance for about a mile. What are the chances of that happening again. Friday morning rolled into Friday afternoon as I sorted out my woes on the Jeep tail lights so Alyssa and Scott could take it to the mountains Saturday. We would met Scott, my daughters boyfriend for supper later in the day. Our first meeting, but no time to think about that now. Time to get on the bike and head for the foot hills. Cousin Dave's wife Mary arrived home and asked if we were going to wait on Dave to arrive home to go riding with us. Assuring us he would be home in 30 minutes I set out instead to wash the bike with a hose in the driveway. That completed Dave finally arrived about two o'clock and our ride in the foot hills deteriorated into a ride to Brighton for Chick Fil A  before a whirlwind tour of discount clothing stores to look for a replacement for the jeans Sherry forgot to pack. It culminated at a Wal mart near I -70 where I was called an idiot for pausing at an intersection. I thought a car looked like it was going to run a stop sign and smash the bike. The perpetrator three teen age girls with cell phones and an SUV. They parked across from us and the typical traffic incident banter continued. I apologized when I came back out from the store to mixed results of blame and sarcasm, oh to be young again. At least we had our coveted jeans which turned Sherry's legs blue during our ride in the rain the next day.Friday night was a drive across 120th to do supper and met Scott, what can I say about this, if you like your children's perspective mates you begin to pray for God to move in their lives and hope for all things good. If you don't there are several options including ones involving threats with a baseball bat. I like Scott so I started praying before I ever met him,heck I didn't even take the bat with me. Saturday morning we had plans, Aspen and the search for the holy grail, nothing could spoil my day. Mark it off the bucket list cousin Dave had said, he stuck his head in the basement Friday night as we were trying to slip off into slumber land to announce Aspen would be a 12 hour ride, just an FYI . Dashed again, I made plans to make a special pilgrimage and turned the lamp stand on next to the bed to peruse the map of Colorado I had bought that day at the gas station. I settled for a trip to Conifer through Evergreen and then 67 down to 24 over to Bella Vista although Tarryall road looked interesting if it was indeed paved as the map claimed. Could even shoot up to Breckenridge and back in on 70 or make the loop on 285. Right off the bat cousin Dave was shredding my plans, first the holy grail of Aspen was gone and now Tarryall was off limits and Evergreen would be to much of a time factor. I settled for Evergreen an option at the end of the ride and maybe we could ask along the way about Tarryall. More time wasted before we left, a trip to the computer to calculate times and distances, write down towns and highway numbers.We finally rolled into the street to take off and cousin Dave stopped to pray, which I should always be thankful for but it one more thinged me over the limit after two wasted days of vacation waiting to see the mountains that lay just to the west of me.I rolled on up to the stop sign leaving Dave in the street ,Sherry telling me what a jerk I was from the back of the bike. Dave took off and I knew in an instant she was right. Took me several miles to get him stopped so I could humble myself and beg for forgiveness. I was better now, finally underway. We sorted things out and prepared to hit the road again. As we did a young lad with shoulder length brown wavy hair came walking down the sidewalk beside us. I had seen him from afar and the Lord had told me to ask him if he needed anything when he got to us. I turned around and said, Whats your story. He looked at us and without hesitation said I don't know where I am, I am lost. Dave inquired about where he lived and told him he knew where it was. We told him to hop on the bike and we would take him home. He was hesitant but did so. We dropped him off and I told him before he left that he was loved by Christ because it was no accident we had stopped there, and that I had been urged by the spirit of the Lord to inquire on his behalf. He said he didn't have faith for that ,and I told him to remember what Christ had done for him this day before he left. After a stop at Santiagos to load up on gas and an extra burrito for later in the day we hit a gas station and hit the road. Up through Evergreen and on to Conifer for a gas stop. Evergreen has disappeared in a sea of development that has ruined any need for a repeat trip through there. Once back on the road we enjoyed a quiet trip down to Woodland Park interrupted only by a beautiful orange Ducati in the gas station parking lot and a friend of his on a  650 Suzuki single which crashed making the turn into the gas station. This prompted about twenty minutes of motorcycle stories before hitting 24 west towards Buena Vista. We never got that far, I was in the lead then and turned north where a sign said simply Tarryall just west of Lake George. We made our way north unfettered accept by occasional trucks loaded with dirt bikes up an increasingly deteriorating road toward Lake Tarryall. Not always an easy task with a passenger on a 700 lbs. street cruiser. We stopped just short of Turner Gulch Road and put on rain gear and shortly after getting underway hit a downpour. Complete with air to ground lightning it would be our escort except for a brief period of less intensity when we rode out of it for a bit to Jefferson. At Jefferson I asked about heading on north to Breckenridge but was out voted by a party of one in favor of going east on 285, back into the rain. A subject not up for debate at this point, but a path that led me to wonder if I would ever see Denver again. Cousin Dave was hell bent for Denver on his Bergman, which I can no longer call a scooter because I was put in my place by it on that trip back down through the mountains. Visibility at times was down to one eye, the worse when I was trying to find my way around a pilot car for an earth mover merging from 4 lanes to two. I held the throttle back, crossed the middle line and prayed. It was tough keeping up with the Bergman two up in the rain. When we got back down to Denver after a few miles of dry pavement I had to swallow my pride and  make a request for slower running. Whipped by a scooter, LOL. At least there was Chick Fil A at the end of our ride on 120th and Washington. Sunday morning Church was in Thorton at Legasy Christian Fellowship. My daughter does worship there. I had a nice ride over by myself on the bike. After service there was a meal and ride to Lake Palmer. Pretty uneventful but for a bit more rain. We arrived back at Thorton from our ride just in time for me to head the bike back downtown to Scum of The Earth for Sunday evening services. There was a young man pan handling at the exit of 25 and Colfax I wish I would have been in his lane to give him the few dollars I had in my pocket. I overshot Kalamath and went to far down Colfax before turning south and doubling back on 11th street. Good thing because instead of using the school parking lot on 12th I parked the bike between the curb and sidewalk beside the church. I was a bit early and so helped a fellow I meant outside the church fix some bikes for some folks who happened by. The church is a beautiful albeit a bit run down brick building with 1881 on the cornerstone. The inside has been gutted to the rafters and painted in a fashion that would be the envy of any loft apartment owner. The sanctuary split on two levels. Bathrooms and Kitchen both finished in kind of a modern art deco style. Worship started and ended the service with some modern worship songs along with Peace in the valley, Blessed Assurance ,and I have Decided to Follow Jesus. The church is staffed by mostly 20 and 30s but pastored by Mike Sares closer to my own age. With a church council of adults contemporary in age with myself,it has a feeling like The Solid Rock of the 70's in Salina ,Kansas. The Rock was an old house downtown rented by local churches and set up in conjunction by them with a youth pastor so all contact was made through our contemporaries as young people much to the benefit of many of us. Scum although predominately youth reflects attendees of all age. It has a definitive statement of faith,http://www.scumoftheearth.net/about/ ,but is a place purpose built to reach its surrounding area with the love and grace of Jesus Christ. A church without walls. There was a meal on Sunday night, a normal part of Sunday night services. After the meal there was a baptismal service, where each person to be baptised took the microphone to speak of their reason for baptism and their path to this night. I was particularly touched by a young girl recently saved who had been born into this world the daughter of drug dealers and through much hardship had come to a place of grace through Christ and the efforts of folks at Scum. I found it to be the warmest first time church visit I have ever made.Much more conservative in nature and practice then the fellow who I asked that afternoon about taking my bike downtown would have guessed. He gave me a second look when I said I was going to Scum of the Earth and asked ,why would you want to go down there, Jesus? A trip home up the 25 in the rain to Commerce City was my last rain storm of the weekend, the guy panhandling at the exit had grown to 4, they hollered and rushed out on to the exit as I went by. I wasn't stopping to see if intentions were honorable, LOL.  We arrived back in Kansas to the request of my middle son to go out and eat. He had been cooped up on the farm for four days. My last storm for the week was a case of food poisoning which resulted from that trip. At least it gave me time to write today. God Bless, Shawn Blog post 1 year ago Views: 39 Not yet rated Another lake :) Another lake :) From: Bedo103 Description: Was fantastic because i was with a friends and we were weared with jaket, jeans and boots while the people were on the lake to swim!! 1 year ago Views: 97 Results 1 - 20 of 52 1 2 3 Next » Search Results for "jeans" Social Media Platform by KickApps Terms of Service Terms of Service