#4 The One Moto Show - No sleep, Service dogs, Broncos and Booze.

While browsing the website I noticed they were accepting applications for the car and truck show.  Damn, I wish I would have known sooner. “Oh well, what the hell,” and on a whim found my self filling out the forms with the event only being a week and a half away. This late in the game, I doubted I would be contacted and figured the roster would have and ready been filled.  Chances were slim, but with OJs recent passing, there was a little hope. I wasn’t too set on it, as this show wasn’t initially on my radar and with complete lack of planning, I wouldn’t have been too disappointed. If I could’ve foreseen how the trip would unfold I would’ve felt differently, and without a doubt, made sure I got my ass there. Follow the bread crumbs I say.

 I occupied my self with work as days passed without any news. Tuesday morning hit- a day off I planned to milk for sleeping in and eventually cleaning the house. I finally decided it was time to unpack and put my shit away from Daytona. My phone rang at 9:30 AM from a number I decided to screen, as I often do.  The day went on, and around 4:30 PM, I recieved a notification. That’s weird- no missed call but a random floater of a voicemail.  Mike from Pro Tek Auto left a message to confirm I would be there for load in on Thursday morning at 9 am. Two emails were sent and never received. 

1996 Ford Bronco XLT 351 “OJWASHR”

 I had a choice to make. Fuck.  It’s Tuesday. I checked my schedule and following suit with my slow months before this, I had only three clients on the books for Thursday and none until Monday the next week. This could work. I reached out to see if it was possible to move them to Wednesday morning. They all agreed. What in the actual fuck am I doing. Ok. Here we go.  I texted a few friends to see if there was anyone else on this planet that could drop everything they were doing to leave to Portland the very next day. Nine-hour drive. No none took my bait, but then Evan came to mind. Evan and I had road tripped once before. It was a 9 hour trip to Los Angeles to purchase the Bronco a couple years prior.  Another crazy adventure was suggested and  Evan was down and ready to go.

  Now,  since I had a person to split driving duties with, I decided that I would take care of some cosmetic stuff that should have been done a long time ago. Two years ago, I rammed my truck up the ass of a much tinier Ford on my way to the airport. This was en route to the Highs Seas Rally cruise I have mentioned time and time again. I will have to write about it one day as it plays a huge part in how my life path has shifted and has mapped out where I am today.  I had a cracked grill and damaged one of the head lamp bezels. Not anything hugely bothersome, but not something I could let slide when tons of people would be staring at my ride. So there I am, making another time consuming, possibly not-too-important decision to replace those parts. 

 I had ordered the grill and bezels along with new LED headlamps months ago. I was waiting on a second set of  due to the grill being scratched during shipping. The company stated a return wasn’t necessary.  I would think everyone would agree, a scratched grill is better than a cracked grill and decided to start this escapade at approximately 8pm. Now, although the job itself wasn’t too hard, there were complications. There’s always complications. The passenger side bezel wasn’t too hard to replace and the old grill came out fairly easy. When I got to the drivers side hyper-focus had to set in. This took not only massive amounts of time but an exhaustion of ideas and any other smarts I thought I had to make it work within a reasonable amount of time. One fucking bolt. That’s all it took to fuck me over for hours. This bolt happen to be a different size than the rest which made me suspect when this was originally done, it was lost and replaced with an 11mm with the same thread pattern. The fucked up part, and my adopted nightmare, was the bolt happened to be located in a position where only a deep socket could be used and nothing else.  Trust me. I tried. I  Tetris-ed together many tools and even tried to shove several different types of pliers up in there. I didn’t have that one, God forsaken socket. My poor tool box had been ransacked by tweakers at my step dads house and I was missing a depressing amount of Snap-On tools. I couldn’t get the head lamp out. I had already replaced the passenger side, and man, it looked good. I had to figure this out.  The headlamp was noticeably cloudy and there was no way of getting around it, unless, I switched the passenger side back to the shitty one.  There was no way in fucking hell I was going to give up and do that.  I carefully pried the bezel away, as this one wasn’t cracked, and was able to somehow squeeze a wrench in there to turn that stupid bolt for what felt like a million revolutions at an eighth of an inch at a time. After what seemed like eternity I had a very short lived victory.  Clock check. 1am. Fuck my life. Ok, on to the next.  You would think that this is where I would slap the grill on and call it a night. Yeah right. “Let’s make this shit harder,” my brain said. I decided to drill out the holes for the aftermarket raptor lights with my jewelers flex shaft using the template I previously made.  Now for More problems. I couldn’t remove the old raptor lights to bring them inside to cross check my measurements without snipping the wires. The crimps that were used were smashed the fuck on there. My soldering kit was out of supplies if anything should have gone wrong.  I had no time to open that can of worms. The flex shaft was set up in the house, and at the time was deemed to much of a task to bring out to the garage, especially with the noise it would’ve made at 1am. Would’ve been much easier if my ADHD brain had adopted some way of doing either. Close the garage you say? Well, when you have a lifted XLT, half way in is about all your getting.  In fear of overshooting the size of the holes I had to finish sanding them with a hand file outside to make sure I didn’t fuck this up. This is when I started cursing my thought process and myself for being so ridiculous. I was pot committed. It’s ok. You can sleep in the car. 

 At some point during this activity I remembered Evan telling me that a detail should be something  to add to the list.  I found a mobile service online and booked for 8am to have them come to the house and clean up the Bronco while I went to work to make up for lost time.  First world problems.  I finished the grill with satisfactory results and had barely enough time top hop in the shower, have a cup of coffee, meet the detailer and Uber to work.  Team no sleep.  Around noon I finished work with a couple missed calls from Evan, but  I felt I could finally relax. I sat on my stool and gave him a ring. Jokingly, I said “What are you  having ragerts?” 

 He replied, “No, no ragerts. But I can’t go.”

 “What the fuck Evan! What in the hell do you mean you can’t go?”  

 Evan got his dates mixed up and realized he agreed to dog sit for a friend that weekend. Oh. My. God. You’re kidding right?

 “Can we bring the dog?”

 “No”

  Anxiety and a huge “what the fuck am I gonna do?” kicked in. After already committing and Evan purchasing a non-refundable hotel room, I kinda had no choice. I Ubered home on no sleep and still had packing to do. Should I nap? Is there anyone else I could call to come? Not really to drive but to aid me in the anxiety ridden state I was now spiraling in? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

 As I thought, this I looked down at my reluctantly adopted, newest member of my family. Welp, Tater. Looks like were going on a road trip. Now I do realize that this isn’t what normal people would typically do. Shit it’s not anything that I would ever see my self doing with the levels of social anxiety I have. For those that have met me, yes it’s there. I have just become really good at masking it.  I often ask myself, if half the shit I experienced in my life  would have happened if things didn’t pan out the way they did.  Would I have actually made it this far, if Evan didn’t initially agreed to go in the first place? Hell to the fuck no!  Let’s be real. There’s no way in Hell I would’ve done any of that. Hindsight is 20/20.  If I want to follow these damn bread crumbs, I just have to fucking get over it. 

Sir Tater Tot Templeton the IV

Pack. Dog. Load up. It’s now 230pm.

 Tater is a dog I acquired from my homeless yard guy, who also happens to be one of the best friends I have. I truly believe after receiving this dog, in the event you should not see something fitting your life path, forcing anything in either direction is something your not supposed to do. I really wanted to refuse this dog, as I still had two after the recent passing of my beloved Mickey. One of the hardest moments of my life, was when I laid on the floor in my hallway with my best friend as he left this world. I swore I’d never add anymore to my pack. Tater took that decision away from me.  Homing a dog rescued from a weed farm, that hates truck rides, has separation anxiety and probably more issues than I do, proved in the days to come, to be exactly what I needed. 

 When I loaded him up,  I expected him to pant and cry like he always did, but for some reason, as if he knew he was in it for the long haul, he sat quietly and looked at me while I drove. We stopped at Petco before we dipped, picked up a travel doggie bowl and a pet bed for the truck and took off.  Not knowing Taters cues for shit stops, I pulled off quite a bit. He barely pissed and never shit. He was freaked but holding it together fairly well. 

 During the drive and a couple instagram posts in, documenting the journey, I received a reply to a story. Fucken Pat!  Pat and Mike would be coming out to the show and arrive the following day. Thank god! Out of all my chopper show attendee friends I contacted, not a single soul was going, so this was a sweet relief. Telling him my situation and that I was completely by myself he reassured me I could tag along. The drive was a little less stressful now and I was able to breath. Why am I such a fucken pussy!  Having never driven north past Willits in California, pushing on through the night hid all the beauty I’ve heard exists. I was grateful for the LED headlamp install on that 2 lane road. With an astigmatism, no sleep, a dog with issues, accompanied by my own, all I could think was “What a shit show.”  My daily dose of Aderall was already at its limit, so stopping at a Dutch Bros at midnight for much needed caffeine would have to suffice.  I calculated I’d make it to the University Hotel in Portland by 3 am. 

 Checkin in after Tater’s pathetic attempt to pee, we headed to the elevator where the little doods fear of going up, anything, was first discovered. The fear of stairs came later. The room was out dated and a little funky.  Evan had originally wanted to book us  a room at the Hyatt, which he changed, after I asked him to downgrade for something a little more cost effective. I was actually ok with it not being the nicest of rooms, as leaving Tater behind was on the agenda for at least one of the nights. I didn’t know how well he would fair being by himself in a strange place. Not to mention his slowly dying habit of pissing and chewing on things at home.  I Climbed into bed, snuggled up my dog and eyes closed lights out it was. 

 After an ok night of sleep, a quick car wash to get the kamikaze bugs off my windshield was needed.  I hit the boat yard right after and pulled into Ojs resting spot for the weekend. Zidell Boat Yards was the previous home of the families ship dismantling company and barge building operation.  We stepped inside the large industrial structure that stretched out for what seemed like a mile. This massive building housed tons of vendors that were slowly packing in. The bikes that had arrived early were staged upon white platforms that took up two rows on both sides of the building.  I spotted the Oregon Vintage Motorcycles section right away and wondered if I would later see a Matchless on display.  Chain link fences made up the walls that held art, from metal sculptures, painted skateboards, canvas paintings and pinstriped signage.  

 We met Mike the organizer of the car and truck show portion of the event and got the scoop for the rest of the day along with my VIP wristband- the first of many to come. The Pro Tek pre party was the only thing on the agenda for the night. I took a walk across the bridge to Mount Hood Brewery where Tater and I sat in a train car. I drank a beer and ate a whole entire pizza recommended by the staff. I gave Tater all my pizza bones (crust) and decided to trek back to the hotel. I was still in need of much more sleep. Being up for two days doesn’t work well for most people including myself.  Ive never needed to, nor accomplished that feat until that day. Achievement unlocked. Although at times I am super human, consistently operating at an adaptive and freakishly low level of hemoglobin (look it up), a full recharge was in order. 

After a couple hours of REM, I decided to link up with Pat and Mike at See See Motorcycles and Coffee.  Leaving an exhausted Tater in the room with food and water I prayed I would come back home to a well behaved pup. Pulin’ up in the Uber I recognized the back of Mikes head and spotted Pat’s infamous yellow Choppers Magazine hat the next street over. Pro Tek was directly across the street. Vespas poppin’ wheelies, a really poor wrestling match in the parking lot, mini skate ramps, live music and a bar is what was happening. Reunited with my cruise homies, the band was almost back together. Jody was the only missing link.  Man, I love these guys.  Mikes brother Steve joined us for the weekend and I wasn’t surprised when we hit it off. Having met on the cruise only in passing, I realized that someone with the same twisted sense of humor as me was going to be around all weekend.  That made me happy as fuck. A quick selfie to send to Jody wishing she was with us, Jack and Gingers started the night.

 We found our way to a motocross track to meet up with Warren and Scott a couple of the organizers of Flat out Friday. I hadn’t formally met them that night, being preoccupied with Steve, hunting for more booze and placing bets on the riders for amusement. Steves persuasive skills got us a couple beers when we were told it was shut down on more than a few occasions.  Score.  This track looked fun as hell. And how cool to have a non qualifying race on a school night just for the hell of it. Back home that only  happens at our track on the weekends.  A little primed up, we decided to take an Uber to Rose and Thistle to have some more drinks. Our driver resembled Santa Claus on vacation.  Dressed in Hawaiian shirt and looked jolly as fuck.   He laughed at us as we made innuendos of what the beard measuring tool he had placed in the back seat was really for.  Santa on the chart of course, had the biggest “beard.” We made it to the bar and had some drunk munchies, paired with more shots and an unexpected dare, landed one of us with ketchup up the nose. IYKYK.  Callin’ it, I returned home to a well behaved Tater with his food bowl still full, no shit or pee and a in-tact room, from a pretty successful first night with not so much blurred vision. 

 The following morning with Tater in tow, I met up with the guys to grab breakfast at Jam on Hawthorne, a highly recommended Portland staple. I had my creature of habit choice, eggs benny which was bomb.  Not to my surprise, Portland offered a pretty wide range of dog friendly restaurants and services. For those traveling, not only do they have Uber Pet, but also, a variety of doggie day cares and boarding facilities for those fur babies who need a little more attention.  Off to the show. The Zidell Boat Yard looked a lot different, filled with all the bikes, vendors, and people. My first stop on vendor row was of course was the Huckleberry Brand bandanna booth. Tater had not only made an impression the day before but was marking tallies off for most friends made, ever. We outfitted him in a bandana that added even more to his already cute, please come and pet me appeal.  We stopped at the Ryvid booth and checked out the new line up of bikes. Adaptive for shorter riders, one model had an adjustable air ride suspension,  Not so much my style, being a more modern bike, but very comfortable to sit on. We walked by pin strippers and an artist painting with what looked like charcoal or coffee grounds.  His vision of the bike in front of him started taking form. Waiting for Christian and Roberto to roll in with their Ryvid build and Mikes Shovelhead, the last two entries of the show, we killed time wandering the massive area. We gawked at a v-twin engine modified quad and took pictures with more friends in front of the Bronco.  Spending the whole day at Zidell, soaking it all in, blurry vision also started to set in.  I ran into a fan girl favorite of mine Paige Clark of Stripe Cult and snapped some pics.  This, besides the Mama Tired Show moved up my list of the must go tos that day. As friday went on and the drinks multiplied.  Dropping Tater off at the hotel to let him rest, relinquishing my self of doggie duty at Flat out Friday, seemed to be the more responsible thing to do.

Majik Mikes Designs

 We headed to the track at the Portland Expo Center, where I was able to experience Flat Out from a new perspective on the floor.  I was happy they brought it to the West Coast and hope they decide to incorporate it into more of the shows out here. People don’t really know what they’re missing. Not only are they fun as hell to watch, but the people that put this together and the effort that goes into bringing this race to life deserves applause. Up close and personal, watching the crashes a costumes and high five-ing  the riders as they came in,  proved to be another unforgettable experience. The enthusiasm of their flag men was unmatched and the good vibes these people bring with them made for nothing short of another amazing event.

 Not ready to call it a night, we headed to the bar where my head found its way down to meet the table. “Im not sleeping, I’m resting my eyes.” My brothers could only distract security long enough for my third wind of energy to kick into gear.  Up I went, straight to the DJ. Hella blurred vision. Now, don’t ask me how I time warped here,  but fast forwarding,  just a little, my brain focused enough to come too in front of the gate at Zidell. Thor Drake, the host and the parent of The One Moto show and See See Motorcycles and also known co-star on Jackass 2,  had invited us back after hours to hang. We were caught snooping around the gate trying to figure out how to get in.  A  gold tooth gleamed in the dark. I was told the next day Danger Ehren opened it up and slapped another wristband on to add to the collection. I at that time didn’t register, as I was coming back into blurry vision from blindness. We headed in, and man, was it was a surreal sight. Being there in the dimly lit building, surrounded by the dark and twilight, all the bikes and no crowds and amazing people, I was equipped with a DEAD FUCKING PHONE!!  Somehow the charging chord to my portable charger was lost and the one in my truck was missing as well.  I’d think this mishap was what the universe intended if it weren’t for this being completely normal for me. Always being prepared with extra charging banks and chords, I wish I could say I wasn’t surprised that I managed to lose all of my shit in one night.  No photo ops here, but the blurry memories I was able to take home with me.  I met a girl named Leah that was also at Mama Tried. She was great to talk to, as the testosterone in the room took over. The boys obsessed over the mini car track in the corner. Something wasn’t working right, so fixing it was on their minds. I drank high noons with my new girl friend, had some laughs with Roberto and absorbed this place I found myself in. Christian at one point, climbed up into the rafters to take an overhead photo of the yard.  There was a moment when I headed to the truck to chill in the night,  as the micro-dose of mushrooms I took started to take effect. I pondered my life and was grateful for these awesomely weird experiences. Heading home again after another satisfying day turned into night , I returned again to a very well behaved and passed out Tater Tot with not a piece of kibble missing from his very full travel doggie bowl.

 Saturday was a little bit of a late start for me. I eventually walked down with Tater and wandered around the yard to look at more merch. I stopped by the F’ing booth and chatted with the boys there.  I met Bryce, an artist that had work displayed on the chainlink behind one of my favorite shovels at the show built by Michael Foster.  The pieces he showed reminded me of  black and white renditions of Basquiat’s work.  I took some more photos of the bikes and watched the Monster BMX guys rip it for a little bit on the ramps. I stopped by Stone and Dagger and chatted with the amazingly talented girls there and admired the leather working skills of Sandwitch Leather.

 The weather this day was a little rainy.  Needing a break from the show, a food stop was in order.  We checked into a taqueria across the street and fueled up, letting the weather pass. Tater was proving to be the best service dog he could be. I handed him to Mike at one point in an assist to pick up chicks.  A wingman, he was not.  Checking out the cheeky trophies, more of the bikes and more drinks in between we made our 10th possible lap around the show.  I met a really amazing silversmith named Spencer at the Gilded Anvil booth and talked for a while about his chain pieces.  Solid, unique and pretty spectacular. Custom orders for rings and bracelets were being made on the spot. Tater sported his Go Fast Don’t Die patch on his vest and decided to, rightfully so, mark his territory on their table cloth (He apologizes). The show atmosphere was pretty rad. With live music, stunt riders, and lots of side entertainment, there was still plenty left to see. 

 Dropping a sleepy Tot off yet again, we found ourselves back at the bar where we met up with the Flat Out Friday boys and I was able to keep my eyes open and head off of the table this time.  Scott came over to join me at a booth I took up residency at. I was able to finally formally meet one one of the brains behind Flat our Friday and Mama Tried. We exchanged the normal moto banter when he asked if I ride and what I have. Being totally fucked over by a former friend on my bike build  I felt like such a poser saying the same shit I always did. “I haven’t ridentified street in a while. I been trying to build a bike the last 3 years. I have a Mathchless.” Blah blah blah. Scott lit up. “What do you have? You have a Matchless! Do you have pictures of it?  Can I see?” I was like whoa! He knows what it is, for one, and for two, he’s stoked on it?? Duh! Of course he knows what it is. But man, not a lot of people are juiced about this bike from my experience, it not being a Harley and all.  I was excited.  The Matchless was bought in a warehouse in Santa Rosa form a man named Roland.  Was originally owned by a racer named Shorty Tompkins out of Sacramento who gave it as a gift to his wife Gaylene.  Scott was interested to hear about it to say the least.  I just loved how much he loved my bike! His enthusiasm made me excited for it again. I had been I a slump over it since I picked it up still in pieces. Not running, and looking nothing like it was supposed to with thousands of dollars poured into it and a lean sold Plymouth, I was slowing giving up on it. When I picked it up I remember saying out-loud. “Well, I guess it’s time I learn how to build myself a motorcycle.” It wasn’t until the words that came out of Scott’s mouth next, solidified it. “I know this is kinda far from you, but, would you be able to bring this to Milwaukee next year?” Wait. What? “You gotta bring this and show it at Mama Tried.” Oh. My. God. Are you fucking with me Scott? Scott was indeed not fucking with me and was absolutely stoked on my bike.  I learned later of the immense love he has for the rare and unique, which in turn I appreciate as well.  We talked more. I chatted with Warren and we talked about people in California that might help me with this British find.  These doods were so damn cool. Trying to find a network of help from me in the bay was a gesture I’ll always have appreciation for. Warren refered me to Ryan Grossman whom I was already familiar with,  not only for his amazing builds, but for his impressive raffle giveaways as well. Μeeting more of the Flat Out crew,  I sat with Dan and listened to him speak about his scooter crash in Milwaukee, where a near death experience happened and half his face melted off.  Don’t worry. His face is fine. But holy shit what a wild story. Hearing it from a 6 foot something man with a thick, I think, Chicago accent, that has a smile that could kill, makes the story that much better. You’ll have to find him for the details.  Brian from Geared Science joined the table and also encouraged me to get going on my bike.  We sang happy birthday to Mikes brother Dave and we all talked some more about family and told stories about life. I sit here now typing and cherish those moments of real connection. In a world where people are sometimes so wrapped up in social media that they forget to make quality experiences and real memories, somehow I have been able to meet so many amazing people. I may not be remembered,  or make a huge mark in this world, but I look at these little moments that happen, connect all these damn dots and show extreme gratitude for the chapters unfolding. One thing always leads to the next,  and I'm fucking excited for it.  Follow the fucking bread crumbs Nicole.

1958 Matchless g80 cs

 Sunday, the last day of the show was a nice, sober, slow one. I Bought some merch and managed to save Tater from an aggressive dog attack while running over an old man.  Pretty spent from the weekend, staying for the awards was still a must. Thor was dressed as his alter ego Burnt Furnace.  Funny and awkward, he announced many trophy winners leading up to the One Moto Championship belt won by Mike Aldridge for his red and gold Dyna.  Built in loving memory of his mother Darla, this bike took front and center at the entrance of the show from day one. As the sun moved around the yard the gold flecks sprinkled throughout the paint glittered brightly catching everyone’s eyes who crossed the threshold.  The Sosa brothers took home the “Electric Cowboy” award for their Ryvid build and the 3 mini bikes built by Mike Fitzpatrick took the “Ride Slow Die Whenever” award. There was Mitchell Witkamps 95 BMW displaying 75 feet of weld for the “Best Weld” award and “Peoples Choice” and one of my favorites was the 2003 Honda Rebel equipped with karaoke side car build by @TNT_Traysikel.  Too many winners to list,  with  so many witty trophy names, is only one of the things that sets The One Moto Show apart from the rest.

“Darla” Mike Aldridge

(To see much better photos by extremely talented photographers like Erik Jutras and Brandon LaJoie check out ig @mrpixelhead @brandon_lajoie or head on over to ig@the1motoshow or their website for more details and info on the winners.)

 Upon completion of the show and the 4pm roll out time we stuffed our faces one last time with chicken and spam masubi from Teriyaki Moto, Taters only preference of food at the show throughout the weekend. Amongst all the amazing food vendors, our trophy for best eats, goes to them.  Thanks Teriyaki Moto, for keeping my little doods nutrition up when his anxiety was high and kibble wasn’t cutting it.  

Making our way around the corner, a crowd gathered to see Al Hackels helicopter motor build start up.  Someone had sourced a cap full of 100 octane leaded fuel to fill the float bowl.  After a few kicks from a few different people, it gave in, and started.  Having seen it first at Born Free and then again in Milwaukee, I was glad I here at The One Moto to hear it run.  Was cool as shit.  We did one last lap around the yard.  I gave Steve a quick ride in the Bronco over to the load out ramps, said goodbye to the boys and called it a day.  Instead of staying one more night, which I somewhat regret,  I decided to drive home that day with my best bud, a full heart, more friends,  unbelievable memories and an invitation to one of the best motorcycle shows I’ve had the pleasure of attending. What more could a girl ask for. Until next year One Moto. Be ready, because Tater and I will definitely be there and possibly with a Matchless in tow.

 Completing another 9 hour drive in the dark,  upon returning to my regular scheduled programming, another adventure happened to brew.  Miles in the air above Fort Worth I currently hover due to bad weather, on my way to score the Sons of  Speed Vintage Motorcycle Races for Tenn Jam 2024.  But before that, stay tuned for my first attendance to the second annual The Slither Run hosted by good friends and badass babes Misty Rusk and Kaelyn Cobra.  Last year due to my hospital mishap and my freakishly low hemoglobin,  I was unable to be there.  Making up for lost time and missed memories, I expect nothing short of fun and laughs with friends.  Following that we have Born Free 15 in Silverado, and a question mark where Sturgis lies, The Virginia City Roundup, NorCal Chopper Show and the infamous High Seas Rally.  To add somewhere in  between, every-step along the way, I also have a bike to build.  But for now,  my connecting flight may be missed and I may not even make it to Tennessee, but whatever happens, I know it’s what’s supposed to be. Either way it’ll make for a great story.  I just hope I can tell it right. 

Nicole Templeton

Now, If you’d like your mention or your roll in my story removed, please email me at support@localbrandclothingco.com as I do respect others privacy.  In all blogs, I leave out certain information due to that respect as I see fit. If there is something over looked please let me know. I however, when it comes to my own, will not incriminate but almost always share, maybe not in writing,  but around a table if you’d have me. A beer and a shot are where the start of the best stories are told and made. Cheers. 

### Locals Mentioned

**Mike Christopherson** - Instagram: @mike_protekauto,  Website: https://www.protekauto.com

**Evan Dickinson** - Instagram: @evanxd81

**Pat Patterson** - Instagram: @ledsledcustoms

**Danger Ehren** - Instagram: @dangerehren

**Steve Rabideau** - Instagram: @steverabideau

**Paige Clark** - Instagram: @stripe_cult

**Michael Foster** - Instagram: @goldtoothtramp

**Bryce Frimming** - Instagram: @bryce_bhf

**Spencer Beckert** - Instagram: @thegildedanvil

**Scott Johnson** - Instagram: @seems.like.a.dream

**Warren Heir Jr.** - Instagram: @jrscycleproducts

**Christian Sosa** - Instagram: @sosametalworks

**Roberto Sosa** - Instagram: @ruberrrrtoe

**Leah** - Instagram: @leah.c0m

**Dave Rabideau** 

**Dan DiLuchi** - Instagram: @yourcrapismyscrap

**Brian Radmond** - Instagram: @gearedscience

**Mike Aldridge** - Instagram: @midcitymike33

**Erik Jutras** - Instagram: @mrpixelhead

**Brandon LaJoie** - Instagram: @brandon_lajoie

**Mike Rabideau** - Instagram: @majikmikesdesigns

**Thor Drake** - Instagram: @whoisthor, @the1moto , @burntfurnace

**Doug Fraser** - Instagram: @masterfunz

**Mike Fitzpatrick**

**Mitchell Witkamp**

**Ryan Grossman** - Instagram: @3gknuck

**Roland**

**Misty Rusk** - Instagram: @luckydrivephotos

**Kaelyn Cobra** - Instagram: @kaelyncobra

**Jody Perewitz** - Instagram: @jodyperewitz

**Al Hackel** - Instagram: @alhackel

**TNT Traysikel** - Instagram: @tnt_traysikel

**Shorty and Gaylene Tomkins** - Facebook

### Local Buisnesses, Places and Events Mentioned

**The One Moto Show** - Website: https://the1moto.com, Instagram: @the1moto

**Flat Out Friday** - Website: https://flatoutfriday.com, Instagram: @flatoutfriday

**Pro Tek Auto** - Instagram: @mike_protekauto, Website: https://www.protekauto.com

**Ryvid** - Website: https://www.ryvid.com, Instagram: @ryvid_ev

**Huckleberry Brand** - Website: https://huckleberrybrand.com, Instagram: @huckleberrybrand

**Stone and Dagger** - Website: https://www.stoneanddagger.com, Instagram: @stoneanddagger

**Sandwitch Leather** - Website: https://www.sandwitchleather.com, Instagram: @sandwitchleather

**Teriyaki Moto** - Instagram: @teriyaki.moto

**Gilded Anvil** - Website: https://www.thegildedanvil.com, Instagram: @thegildedanvil

**The Slither Run** - Instagram: @the.slither

**Sons of Speed** - Instagram: @sonsofspeedvintageracing

**Born Free Show** - Instagram: @bornfreeshow

**Zidell Boat Yard**

**Mount Hood Brewery** - Website: https://www.mthoodbrewing.com

, Instagram: @mthoodbrewing

**See See Motorcycles and Coffee** - Website: https://www.seeseemotorcycles.com, Instagram: @seeseemotorcoffee

**Rose and Thistle**

**Jam on Hawthorne** - Website: https://www.jamonhawthorne.com, Instagram: @jamonhawthorne

** F’ing Ride** - Instagram: @fingride

**Oregon Vintage Motorcycles** - Website: https://oregonvintage.org, Instagram: @oregonvintagemotorcyclists, 

**High Seas Rally** - Website: https://www.highseasrally.com, Instagram: @highseasrally

**Virginia City Roud Up**- Website: https://choppersmagazine.com 

Instagram: @vcround up, @dirtybikers_showcase_corral, @choppersmagazine

**Nor Cal Chopper Show** - Website: https://www.norcalchoppershow.com, Instagram:  @norcal_choppershow,