October 23, 2016 – It’s true. I like nice people, and nice people who love classic cars and motorcycles? EVEN BETTER, which is part of what makes Babes Ride Out such a perfect event. In addition to a gazillion girls on motorcycles (okay, okay… more like 1600), there were tons of girls in…
The Nice Girls Club
What?? A club of Nice Girls? YES! All thanks to the founders of ATWYLD, a new technical motorcycle gear and apparel company for women, designed by women who ride–namely Corinne Lan Franco (graphic artist), Jamie Dempsey (TV Host), and Anya Violet (designer/BRO co-founder)–three SUPER NICE girls with extensive fashion backgrounds.
Not to sound like an ad, but… In addition to the insanely soft leather jacket and pants in their first collection, they have the Nice Girls Club lifestyle apparel. Judging by the Insta hashtag, the line has been well received. It’s heartening to see how many girls place themselves in the Nice Girl class instead of the other extreme. I’ve known a few self-proclaimed “bitches” in my time, a phrase and attitude I’ve never understood. Nice girls are, well, nicer to be around. Check out how Ashmore (co-founder of Babes Ride Out) defined the Nice Girls Club.
The Ride to Babes Ride Out
I’d like to think my road dawg Cindy and I fall into the Nice Girl category. Years ago, I ran across a blog–Fashion Serial Killer—and loved the aesthetics and content. Last year, I met said blogger in person at Babes Ride Out–Cindy DuLong–and guess what? She IS a super nice girl with killer style and an artistic soul. This year–since neither of us could leave Thursday for the start of Babes Ride Out–we met up Friday at hubby’s shop and hit the road–me on my ’04 Sporty and Cindy on her ’96 Sporty–the Chromester and the Turdster (her description, not mine), rolling down Interstate 10.
We arrived just in time for the BroDeo…
Cruised the vendor booths and chatted with pals…
Then made our way to one of the highlights of the event–at least for Cindy and me.
The Ultimate Photo Experience
Redwing Boots recently launched their Women’s Heritage Line, and hosted a photographer making Ambro-type photos at their booth. I couldn’t WAIT to see the wet plate process and have a photo made. Photographer Lindsey Ross could not have been more kind to the photo-types like me with tons of questions and a deep curiosity. The Alchemistress patiently answered and even let many of us into the darkroom to watch the photo rise from the black glass. The images from the turn-of-the-century lens and the collodion process have a unique quality not found in any other medium. As Tamara Raye so eloquently put it, “when the resulting image of one’s self is so hauntingly unfamiliar, it makes you question your own features and facial attributes.” So true. I don’t see myself in this photo. I see a face from history. How wonderful that photographers like Lindsey are keeping this art alive.
Hmmm… perhaps we’ll have to do this at our Motor Palace in Winslow. The travelers–with their passion for history and Americana–would truly appreciate such a souvenir. Certainly something to learn and explore and see what happens. But more on that later.
For now, back to motorcycles.
I love how the Chromester glows in the morning light.
I grabbed a cup o’joe, kicked back, and contemplated where to make my day’s adventure.
Our neighbors–members of the Miss-Fires Motorcycle Club–had generously offered food, friendship, and a place by the fire. They’d flown in from New York and rented bikes, and frankly, they were beat. Some of them wanted a short, easy ride for the day–and since I had a 2pm volunteer shift–I suggested a ride out to one of my favorite places, Amboy, on Route 66. Two lane roads. No traffic. Vast desert vistas. And, at the destination, a unique mid-century example of old Route 66.
Back at Camp…
Turns out the staff needed no more volunteers, so I had free time to photograph girls as they came back from their rides, like Sally and Katie Sue, riding two up when Katie Sue’s bike had a tantrum.
Nightfall brought the raffle, the iron butt awards, and music.
Sunday morning, Cindy and I packed up, rode out of camp, and headed down the road to my house in Yucca Valley, where hubby made homemade corn tortillas with chorizo and eggs for his pal Barry and seven-year-old moto-doll Valentina.
With a storm looming on the horizon, and a hundred mile trip ahead, Cindy and I left the boys with the dishes. Valentina escorted us down the dirt road far as she could on her little electric motorcycle.
The Ride Home…
The storm clouds rolled in before we even got to the 10. I enjoy riding in the rain, at least on two-lane highways. The 62 leaving Yucca Valley had its usual heavy crosswinds. and coupled with the rain, a giddiness bubbled up and I laughed in my helmet. Mind you, I’m not a badass fearless daredevil. I have tons of fear. Too much fear. I ride like an old lady. But for some reason, rain and wind on a motorcycle thrill me, as long as it’s not too cold. But in bumper-to-bumper SO-CAL freeway traffic? Yeah. Not so much. Visibility gets tough with visors fogging up and lane splitting gets iffy. The road home was slow, with rain the entire way, but it didn’t dampen the high of a weekend my vocabulary simply cannot articulate.
P.S. Speaking of my usual sign-off, check out this jacket:
Perfect for me, right?? This suede fringed jacked was for sale, but too big. The artist–Stacey Krzywinski, aka Coyote Bruises–said if I sent her a jacket, she’d duplicate the art! So I did. Sent her my American Made Harley-Davidson Shovelhead jacket to customize. CAN’T WAIT!!!