Sep 23, 2010

TWALD


What does TWALD stand for? I was having too much fun, I forgot to ask. I do know that it took 5 hours to get there and there was a whole lot a  riding and wrenching on motorcycles. In Boscabel, Wisconsin, folk sell liqour n' guns at the same corner store and love to paste up Jesus-y type quotes on the side of the road. There is loose gravel on blind corners that suck you into the pavement and roads that stretch for miles after that. Perfect curves. As an added bonus, I went to my first demolition derby, saw my first bald eagle and for the second time in 4 months I've been the only girl in a hotel room full of boys, booze and a string of really good judgements on my part. I must be doing something right.


LOCAL COLOR

Joe and Sheila try to sabatoge my scenesetter at the Boscabel county fair.




First heat.


Radiator blows









RIDING....

BoscoBill, Dave, Butch, Andrew and Adam...tighten up before breakfast at Unique Cafe. 


Dave.


Just a titch


HQ








Where is Wild Cat mountain? 








Everyone meets back up for a big lunch.




Sheila.
Loading in.





Fuel.

A very cold, wet, trying ride home that exposed the chewy golden center of everyone present. You meet the nicest people in the middle of nowhere.   

4 comments:

  1. The middle of nowhere is often a place where you can experience the whole of the beauty *all this here* has to offer because nobody recognizes you except exactly who you want where you want. There is freedom in nowhere. Nothing is assumed and nothing taken for granted. Sweet is sweet; wet is wet; the road is easy and hard in waves because the present moment and the conditions of the moment. I can't always fit nowhere into my every day, but I think I want to.

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  2. Another stunning collection of stories within a larger tale. You mesmerize and blow me away.
    Your pictures also teach me to be thoughtful about the moments I chose to take with me. Thank you.

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  3. Dan Walsh via Kristen Victor: "Sometimes I dream of flying. This is better. The world flows over my shoulders, the road rushes under my nose. A bike, an open road and a far-off destination. Happiness hits me like a ghost with a hammer. Riding takes just enough concentration to shush the internal jabber while leaving one free channel for clear, honest thought."

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  4. I look forward to TWALD every year. It cleanses my soul if I have one. It cleans my slate for at least the weekend. TWALD is so named for the time of year it takes place...Two (or Three) Weeks After Labor Day.

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