TAR BALL RUN 7

 

My favorite weekend in Florida, the Tar Ball Run. A gathering of builders and riders alike, Odd ball machines typically  built in garages, coming out for a weekend of riding and talking shit.

I’d been watching it all go down through the internet as the first three years went down. I was working so close even, just couldn’t get the time off. After a change in jobs I found myself living in Orlando with weekends off. No one I knew wanted to go so I said fuck it and left solo. It forever changed me, not sure for the best, but I came out of the woods that weekend knowing my dreams were indeed fucked. Id make no money doing what I loved, but Id be rich in stinky drunk friends.

 

Now on its 7th year, the boys brought it back to its origins down in the Everglades. A swamp that covers a majority of the southern tip of Florida and home to some unspeakable shit. Notably mosquitoes that’ll take your ass away if you’re not careful and panthers. Ask Brooklyn Sal, the dude saw panthers non stop, I heard.

Rich is the man, walks with a cane and rides miles like a demon. So awesome to see him out and about.

Showing up a day late, we opted to just meet everyone down in the keys for a late lunch and beers. Going from just a few of us making it south to heading for camp with what felt like 50 bikes was a blast. Some bikes older than the riders themselves and some participants old enough to be most of our parents. It’s an unlikely family coming together for a weekend of pure fun.
Saturday night was host to the “dreaded raffle and awards party.” By this time it all got a little blurry, but the tent was set with shine and beer flowing. The bit I do remember, two guys won cutest couple, I got a how to mig weld DVD and some lady was front and center with none stop eye rolling comments.

 Then Sunday morning hits ya like a freight train and you find your Honda on a picnic table with dicks and other homoerotic scribbles all over it. A push and a shuv,  she was back on the ground. Puking and packing we gathered up, checked over the bikes as we got ready for the 250 miles home.  No Irish good byes here, we did our rounds. Another year in the books.

SB&D Tampa, Florida

 

 

Southbound and Down 2016.

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The third year running, SB&D hosted a show at The Boardr skatepark in Tampa, Fl. People trucked, trailered and road in from all over. With the fall weather finally breaking the day before, Floridians were able to break out the flannels and enjoy themselves for a day of choppers and fun.

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Eric of FNA custom cycles out of lakeland brought out a couple of his mad creations, here is the Three In The Stink, a rad mag fired two stroke triple.

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Dagner just finished this beast of a sporty up and had it on display along with his pipe company, Dagner pipes. Later in the day found him ripping wheelies on it looking like a boss.

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I shoot photos with a go pro, unfortunatley this Larry pierce built dream machine did not transfer as well in the low light, but was able to get this one showing off a rad placed swazi. The more I looked at this machine, the more I loved it. A truly amazing build.

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Wes from Riders on the Norm was there with his buddy John, who brought this beautiful cone.

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Im not sure who killed it more, Drew with the build or Bryson with the paint but both of these dudes nailed it and are representing Florida very well.

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Best garage built winner was Arthur and his wild Triumph.

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The last of the go pro battery was spent trying to capture the maniacs out front ripping burnouts and wheelies. Look up the hashtags and see for yourself, you’ll be glad you did.

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After helping a buddy load up and recharging, I met up with buddies Dallas and Erm. They happened to have a pile of great people with em to ride to the after party at The rivers edge just south of Tampa. A highlight to a great day.

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Miss Mandoozle got to ride in her first real group ride and killed it. Still on her about covering up them ankles though.

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Blocking traffic for the group made life with this many riders so easy as we road into downtown Ybor.

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Sean is from Baltimore…clearly we are all cold weather pussies as he didnt flinch riding in a tshirt while us Floridians were excited to finally be able to cover up after a long and hot summer.

Its days like these that make all the lonely garage time working the bugs out of builds all worth it. Too much fun with too many good people to worry about the too cool to say hi types. Come down to Florida next year and enjoy it for yourselves.

Cheers -Mandoozle

 

 

Chopper time at Willies Tropical Tattoo

Daytona and their bike weeks have been described as trailer week and for good reason. A majority of attendees are not your dedicated “bikers” but more your office workers by day, leather wearing walking billboards by night. If you think that’s all Daytona is, good, stay home. For us in the know, there is plenty to do and enjoy.

Number one on the list for me would be Willies Tropical Tattoo and their event dubbed “chopper time.” This year though, a hurricane ripped through days before causing havoc to most of the east coast almost canceling Biketober fest and all that comes with it. Willie and his crew worked extra hard and it showed. Hell, the famous yellow sign out front was destroyed and became a yellow banner made just days before. Roadside Marty was also in attendance abusively embracing the crowd surrounding “the real bikes of Daytona.” His shit talking is definitely a high light of the show.

You all get the point, so here’s the few pictures I grabbed walking around enjoying the scenery:

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Doozle does Detroit.

The boys contacted me just before I was leaving for this trip about possibly contributing. Not sure of my self and what all I have to offer as Im just a no body doing life the only way I know how, I graciously accepted. With hopes to spread stoke and inspire, here is my first post. Hope ya’ll enjoy. -Chad

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Doozle Does Detroit

It seems that summer ends as soon as it starts. It felt like just yesterday we all were carving the mountains during Smokey Mountain Chopperfest. I guess the saying is right, time flies when you’re having fun. With fall about to start, I needed to get out of the sauna state and roam some miles while I still could. A few phone calls and considerations, I was pumped to head to Detroit for Oily souls and the Venturo’s bbq.

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I ditched a plane ticket for the following weekends family vacation in Michigan and trucked up to Acme, Pa. A good buddy, Kyle Lopes had been working there all summer at a rad indy HD shop, McClain’s jam cycle. I dumped the swingshuv out and packed her up for the weekend. Kyle got cut from work and off we went to Pittsburg. It was my first time ever seeing the city. From the outside it looked glorious and on the inside it seemed American as fuck.unspecified-3unspecified-5

The next morning we were headed towards Cleveland to meet up with some guy named Bob. Kyle mentioned tolls along our way and I just laughed. We have them all over in Orlando and on a bike its not hard to cover up a plate to roll for free so I said, “Just follow suite, I got ya.” Well, I encountered a new kind of tollbooth; this motherfucker had an arm that about close lined me off the bike. Holding on like hell I definitely did not cover my plate and ended up head butting the flexible arm. I cannot wait for that ticket in the mail. Back to Bob though, Bob has a rad pan/shovel with some of the most meticulous ingenuity I have ever seen in person. Brake linkages that attach to the oil pump, a brake stay that god himself would have a hard time creating and an engine that makes the devil smile every time it’s kicked to life. After meeting Bob and talking, I found out his bike was also in the show. Fuck yeah for riding it there!unspecified-4unspecified-7

A couple hundred miles later we rolled into the velodrome where the Venturos were hosting their 4th annual bbq. All types of bikes and people gathered around an old abandon bicycle racetrack. The sun had begun to set and beers were flowing. One of those points in time you wish you could relive over and over again.

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Waking up in the Venturos yard the next morning, we all road to grab food. The McDonalds we found had more security measures than most banks I’ve been in, a nice reminder as to where we were. Next was the famed ghetto tour, unfortunately cut short from some afternoon showers, we ended up under a huge pavilion with beers, some smoke and a skateboard. We all made the absolute most of it and left as friends.

 

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The rains subsided and the rest of the Venturos met us at the pavilion for the ride to the show. A few miles of Detroit’s finest roads and we arrived. Parked in the median directly across from the entrance, we walked right in. Beautiful bikes, happy people and delicious tacos, you couldn’t ask for anything more.

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A few blocks after we left the show my go pro slipped out of my jacket, luckily Kyle noticed it and we u-turned back. There it lay in the middle of an intersection…lucky af. However it was late Saturday night in Detroit and we lost the group. A few random gas station directions later we found 8mile road, jogged back to 7mile and a right at the Little Ceasers. Success, we made it back to the house.

A long night with no sleep, still tripping, we left around 7am. I couldn’t even gather my tent up, seriously, barely got my other belongings on the bike. Absolute shambles and we were off, the good ol’ Irish goodbye.

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A bit over 300 miles of trying not to fall asleep or puke and our weekend was done. A huge thanks to Will Solares for the initial invite, Kyle Lopes and his boss for everything. Who ever puts on Oily souls, y’all nailed a great event and the Venturos, Thanks for the hospitality guys. End of summer success. Cheers -TheMandoozle