Truly, what a thrill to ride a pack of motorcycles into New York City. We stopped after riding from Newport to lunch in Connecticut, only an hour from the City, and Timothy White had an inspiration to photograph our group in Harlem under the Queensborough bridge, so that was our target, and suddenly someone else knew where we were going, knew the way home and the goal and the way into that goal, and our gang, for we had become a gang, keeping within eyesight but riding as we pleased, was liberated from our follow-car by hidden permission, a mutual understanding, our mounts within striking distance of Home and set loose to gallop, we wove, threaded between cars and painted lines and highway signs, free and fast and knowing how to do what we wanted to do, because ultimately motorcyclists, or at least those without fear, with miles and years of riding beneath their skin, prefer wild and loose and yes dangerous to organized and linear and staggered formation, prefer paths through cars at speed, prefer the possible to the certain, knowing nothing is certain, not the gap between those cars ahead, not the lines on the highway, not the posted limits, nor even the destination itself, but only that we Are and are moving under the simple control of our wrists and the shift of our weight, the sky and the speed and the road our poetry, separate and together we dispersed and broke free and spread far but latterly bunched up again, expansion and contraction, trailing Tim and Paul to their home city, losing escorts and photographers and cars, handlers, minders, landing in a swarm under the freeway, blocking the streets without regard, these were ours for now, we'd arrived to have our light captured, reflected from our machines, our helmets, ourselves, the end of a trek begun as strangers but finished as friends.
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This is not Tim White's photo; it's my camera's pale imitation... |
So why, why is a celebrity ride on modern bikes relevant to The Vintagent?
Because we are all motorcyclists, whether we ride modern or dirt or vintage or custom or touring or sport, we share an experience which draws us back again to two wheels, something vital and alive and thrilling, we've all ridden different things, and you know? It's all good. It's all motorcycling.
And here's why this ride is important to me, this particular Kiehl's-organized ride, raising awareness for AIDS research, delivering silly oversize checks at media events at stores in three cities: this isn't phony, this is showing up, this is spending a week - and yeah, it was fun - saying we give a fuck about something other than image and cool and career, we'll give our time and stand awkward in front of the cameras to say, hey, we care, we like what Chris Salgardo is doing with the Kiehl's/moto connection, this isn't a toy run, this is about something a lot of people we know have been struggling with, or died from, especially those of us in New York or San Francisco or LA or in the fashion or entertainment biz.
And it should happen more often.
On Saturday morning, 200 bikers showed up to ride with us to the Lower East Side flagship store in support of
amfAR, and have a party celebrating 160 years of Kiehl's. I would have liked more vintage riders to show up, but some did, and I was really happy about that; thanks you guys.
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Corrina Mantlo on her '71 Yamaha 125 street scrambler which she rides around NYC |
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Our second encounter with the BMW rig, north of Manhattan |
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Checking the result of Tim White's photo shoot in Harlem |
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Trying out the F800GS in Rhode Island; super smooth and agile |
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Ah, traffic into Manhattan... |
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Nice Aston Martin DB5 in Connecticut |
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An early Saturday morning sneakaway ride through Manhattan; Times Square |
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Kiehls cutie and HD VL... |
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DJ Paul Sevigny and WLA Harley |
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Vintage Road Racing New York! |
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Tyson's leggy passenger... |
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I tried the WCC bike too; burned my right calf instantly as the pipe wasn't routed to avoid contact nor was there a guard, the open belt drive cut my left ankle, it carburated poorly and vibrated like hell. What's not to like? |
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The advancing army |
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Early Saturday morning blast through Central Park |
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On the way to the Kiehl's flagship store rendezvous |
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Grant Reynolds on the WCC; it didn't bite him. |
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Eat my Honda CB350 with lagged pipes. |