Thursday, May 6, 2010

Cali B-Sides.

So the race was a total let down. 40 motos? At a pro series national? That's a joke. Not even 2 full racks of pros, on the West Coast? Really? Fuck.
The sad part is that the only people is the one's who are being political and choosing sides... and for the pros... Rather than travel to the race that is more than likely one of the closest ones and make some money, they stayed home... Let down. Ruiners.



After flying to SFO, my buddy Ryan left me for the beginning of his vacation and a night out in San Fran. I sat and waited for a 2 hour delayed Johnny P and watched the Bike Cops do sprints through baggage claim.

Looking a fucking mess. Slept less than 2 hours in a parking lot after we finally found our way to the track at like 4am(the race was ~3 hours from SF). Totally shot.

Saw this dog in a pickup trunk on my way to 7-11 to buy round 1 of coffee and energy drinks. Luckily I cameup on a case of Monster later in the day...

Probably one of the best facilities I have ever been to. On top of a top notch track, they have a full set of trails going down the other side of the hill.

John decided not to race day 2. We decided we wanted variety. We day drank a little, did some shots, and then met Al Roybal and crew for dinner... Rather than order over priced drinks, we just brought all the rum and whiskey we had and ordered diet cokes. We tried going out afterwards but everything was fucked, so we just went back to the hotel and slept through most of Sundays race.

this little guy was at the hibachi grill... Never seen the siamese variety.

Worst hotel I ever stayed at. We didn't book a room, just winged it. They quoted 60 on the phone, we paid 54? no tax. I took a cold shower.

On our way to the track we figured we would get donuts. The donut store only had 12 donuts. We decided it would be funny to just order them all. They also refused to give me regular milk for my coffee, so i just went and stole a chocolate milk, took what I needed and put it back on the shelf. assholes.

Ronnie Gaska was riding Shoreham while I was away. Hell yea.

Todd Lyons was there. Wildman Wednesdays are awesome. I touched his nipple. He didn't know how to react. He flexed it out.

Catrick.

Mexican Flee Market sells the wildest shit. Here are some trading cards. I came pretty close to buying 2 puppies for $20 but John wouldn't let me.

Drove way to fast through these mountains in our race car. No clue how I evaded all police.

BMXMania creepin. Look at those bags under my eyes.

Australian stealin out olympic training spot. Everything is bigger than it looks.

... San Diego.


More to come I guess.