“the way it was & still should be”
With Willie Behind His Tattoo Shop, Tropical @ 825 Yonge St EVER 4th Sunday 11am Church At Noon We Ride To Local Bars Or A Long Ride. Times may vary!!!
The Most Prolific Bike, Car, Etc. Builder In The Area, Period!!!
This magazine is NOT politically correct!!! We deal with mainly old bikes, old cars, old people and young folks who have their heads on straight, who are tired of status quo, and walking on egg shells so as to keep the peace. Socialism & Liberalism SUCKS!!! We bleed Red, White & Blue!!! cochisechops@yahoo.com or (386) 690-6270
Salesman, Shiny (386) 278-3370
“Where Old School “NEVER” Went Out Of Style!!!”
On The Cover, A Very Nice Girl From OB’s Show
Most Photos Taken By Me Or By Many Mailed To Me
July 4: HAPPY BIRTHDAY AMERICA!!!
July 6: Daytona Abate Monthly Meeting
July 6: Swap Meet Webster
July 13: Swap Meet @ Morse’s
July 27: Mystery Ride The Boat Bar 10AM $5 (includes meal)
July 27: BIKER CHURCH & FREEDOM RIDE @ Tropical Tattoo Read CHOPS Online:
We Have Gone To 80 Pages
Services:
*Volusia Powder Coating, NSB
*Street Thunder, HD, Mims, FL
*Wind Walker’s Leather
The Most Read Magazine
In The Daytona Area
*V Twin Spealities (386) 310*8333
Other Services:
*Annie Oakley’s Ormond Beach
*The Last Resort Bar, Port Orange
*A Ok Guns, New Smyrna Beach
*Once Upon A Wall Murals & Paintings
*Tropical Tattoo (386) 672*1888
*Tobacco Exoctical Cigar Super Store
Chops 4
Watering Holes:
*The Boot Hill Saloon On Main
*The Boot Hill Outpost, Ormond
*Pirate’s Pub, Paisley, FL
*The Boat Bar, Port Orange, FL
*The Most Read Magazine
*Wind Walker’s Leather
*Sorry Charlies, Samsula, FL
Take A Ride South On Route 1 To Mims, FL For Whatever You Need These Men Are Good People ~ Cochise
Chops 5 Have You Stopped In To See Big Paul, Lately? You Won’t Be Sorry!!!
cochisechops@yahoo.com or (386) 690-6270
www.cochisechopsmag.com “She switched lanes and hit you,” said one bystander.
Starting next month, August, Old School Biker (Virtual) Magazine will joing up with CHOPS here, to help us get deeper into Brevard County. We use to do that, but some how it fell to the wayside after our lady down there quit. So welcome “Val Gal” the editor of Old School Biker Magazine, prayers that we enlarge the “Most Read Magazine In The Daytona Beach Area!!!”
We lost a good man this month (June) in Mike Cook, a dedicated patron at The Last Resort & The Boat Bar. He was kind of standoffish at first, as was with me, but after about 6 months of doing the magazine (2008) he started talking with in more depth. We use to talk about truck driving as he knew I had a trucking business when I moved here (2005), as he saw my big, longnosed KW sitting in the back lot of The Last Resort!!!
There will be a Celebration of Life for him on July 12th at 2PM at the Boat Bar, with free food! Stop in and show your respect and for some, show some love on this day. His children will be present.
In America we have “free will”, to make our very on decisions, amen!
Each of us make a decision on whether we want to follow the way of Jesus Christ or not.
My collective prayer is that every person who reads this will use their free will and choose to follow Jesus’ way, seriously.
I have started a Bible Study in my home, to help people understand the ways of my Lord & Savior, something that changed my life back in 1983. I did backslide for a couple of years after a divorce, but I am back, stronger than ever, pleading with you to make that decision. I love you, Cochise
Chops 8
“WHERE THE LOCALS” “HANG OUT”
About 1 Mile South Of I-95, On Hwy 1
FULL LIQUOR BAR
ICE COLD BEER
BLOODY MARY SUNDAYS POOL
LARGE OUTDOOR PATIO
“Owned By The Best”
J Schwanke
One of the most iconic and haunting images from the American West is the 1856 photograph of Olive Oatman, a young woman who was famously captured by Native Americans as a child and later ransomed. This portrait captures Olive shortly after her release, revealing not only her calm and composed demeanor but also the striking blue tattoo inked on her chin—a distinctive cactus berry dye marking given by her Mohave captors. The tattoo was more than decoration; it held deep spiritual meaning, believed by the Mohave to protect her and ensure a good afterlife, symbolizing her acceptance into their community despite her ordeal.
Olive’s story is emblematic of the complex and often tragic interactions between Native American tribes and settlers during westward expansion. Kidnapped during a violent raid on her family’s wagon train, Olive endured years living with the Mohave people, adapting to their customs and way of life. The tattoo became a permanent reminder of her captivity but also a testament to her survival and the blending of cultures in the harsh frontier environment. Her image, preserved in the early days of photography, offers a rare and personal glimpse into a history often told through secondhand accounts or legend.
This photograph remains a significant artifact within the True West Archives, frequently cited among the best historical photos of the American West. It symbolizes the resilience and complex identity of those who lived through frontier hardships. Subscribers to True West magazine can explore more such powerful images that capture pivotal moments and diverse experiences from this transformative era in American history.
J Schwanke
In 1951, a young girl sits quietly beside the wheel of a caravan at a traveller camp, clutching a worn rag doll close to her chest. Her clothes are stained, her hair unkempt, and her gaze distant, embodying the mix of hardship and innocence that defines many childhoods lived on society’s edges. Though the dirt and dust speak to the tough conditions surrounding her, the doll symbolizes something more—a source of comfort, imagination, and a deep human need for connection amid displacement and poverty.
Traveller camps in mid-20th century Britain were often makeshift and lacked basic services, leaving families vulnerable to social exclusion and economic uncertainty. For children like this girl, a life on the move meant constant change and limited access to education, healthcare, or a stable home. Yet even in these difficult circumstances, moments of tenderness persisted—when a child could find refuge in a simple toy or carve out a small world of her own amid the unpredictability.
This haunting image captures both the resilience of childhood and the stark realities faced by marginalized commu-
nities in post-war Britain. It invites viewers to look beyond the surface, recognizing not only the poverty but also the quiet strength, dignity, and enduring spirit of a young girl holding onto the one thing that remains hers in a world that too often overlooks children like her.
In the show, Sitting Bull’s presence was a major draw, and his role went beyond that of a typical performer. He often appeared prominently in promotional materials, usually headlining just below Buffalo Bill Cody himself on the show’s handbills. This positioning highlighted Sitting Bull’s importance to the spectacle and underscored how his identity was leveraged to attract crowds fascinated by the “Wild West” mythos. His involvement lent an air of authenticity to the show’s portrayal of Native American life, though it was framed through the lens of popular entertainment.
The collaboration between Sitting Bull and Buffalo Bill Cody illustrates a complex intersection of cultural pride, survival, and performance. While Sitting Bull’s participation in the show introduced many Americans to aspects of
Sioux culture, it also reflected the compromises Indigenous leaders faced in a rapidly changing world. His ability to assert his terms and maintain a prominent role speaks to his resilience and savvy, navigating the demands of a commercial enterprise while preserving a degree of agency over his image and legacy.....................................................................
DO NOT forget about the HUGE Party at The Pirates Pub, for their annual, “TO BROKE FOR STURGIS PARTY”, on August the 2nd!!! A GREAT Place to PARTY!!! *************************************************
Chops 18
Day Holi
My Mom (on the left) and friends.
Panama City. Probably on Hwy 231. Not sure of the date. I colorized the photo.~ Day
“You could see the sharks circling. Then every now and then, like lightning, one would come straight up and take a sailor—and drag him down.” It was July 30, 1945. The USS Indianapolis had just completed a secret mission: delivering parts of the atomic bomb that would soon fall on Hiroshima. But as the ship sailed through the Philippine Sea, a Japanese submarine attacked. The ship sank in just 12 minutes.
Of the 1,195 men onboard, about 900 made it into the open water—life jackets on, oil in their eyes, clinging to hope in the dark. But there were no rescue calls. Their mission had been classified. No one knew they were missing.
Then came the sharks. For four days, the men drifted un-
der the brutal sun. Dehydration set in. Some hallucinated. Others gave up. And always, beneath them, the shadows moved. Survivors recall the ocean boiling with fins. Some men were pulled under. Others were found, but torn apart. The sharks didn’t need to circle. They just waited.
By the time help arrived—by chance, not by search—only 316 were still alive.
The story of the Indianapolis is not just one of war, but of endurance, horror, and silence. A mission that helped end a world war. A tragedy almost lost to time. And a reminder of the high price of history.
Born in shadows. Lived in silence. Survived in the fire of the West.
In the barren wind of the New Mexico Territory, far from the red clay of her birthplace in Georgia, a young woman named Cordelia “Cordie” Bell Curbow — nicknamed Kirbo — carved a life out of desperation and grit.
She was born in 1884, just as the South was reeling from war and ruin. By 17, she’d already lived through poverty, displacement, and hunger. So she did what thousands of young, forgotten women did: she left. Alone. Headed west with nothing but her name and her will to survive.
But the West wasn’t a land of dreams — not for women. It was dust and danger, and for a girl with no money, no family, and no education… options were brutally few.
Cordie became a prostitute, not by desire but by necessity. It was the only life available to her — a life that took more
Chops 25
“To Broke For Sturgis Party 8/2”
“A Great Great Ride To & Thru The County”
than it gave, but one she owned on her own terms. She faced violence, disease, judgment, and isolation so deep it could swallow a soul whole. But she endured.
Not with fanfare. Not with glory. But with the kind of quiet strength only women like her could ever understand. No records celebrate her. No photographs survive. But her story — like that of so many women on the American frontier — is woven into the soil, the saloons, the silence between gunshots.
She didn’t ride into legend. She survived in its shadows.
Remember Cordie. Not because she was famous — but because she was real. From FB The Unknown; But Not Hidden
Responses: Eliot Ravenheart
She wasn’t written into history books, but she was history. Cordie didn’t ask the world to remember her.
Lorie Hofreiter
Women do what they must to survive, no judgement needed.
Anita Goins
Those women actually paved the way for the rest of us. Their options were few, but they went anyway. They didn’t settle for what was expected of them. So brave.
Chops 27
The photo dates back to 1991, when Linda Evangelista posed with seven other women for an advertising campaign. Up to this point everything would seem normal if it weren’t for the fact that the photo taken in Sicily for an advertising campaign for the clothing company Kenar Enterprises Ltd, had deliberately highlighted the beauty of the evangelist by contrasting her with those of seven women who were obviously far from the canons of beauty of the top model. The company had told them that it was an antiAIDS campaign and had paid them only 10,000 lire.
The advertising poster was cruelly renamed “Beauty and the Seven Beasts”.
In one fell swoop, all women, especially Sicilian ones, had
been hit and denigrated.
One of the women involved in the deception took legal action against Kenar Enterprises. In 2000 the company was forced to pay 20 million lire as compensation for damages to the woman who, in the meantime, had died.
She was only 24. Young. Vibrant. Full of dreams.
Colleen Ritzer walked into her math classroom at Danvers High School every day, not just to teach — but to make a difference.
She was the kind of teacher who noticed the quiet ones, who stayed after school to help, who wore pink because it made her students smile.
On an ordinary October day in 2013, she stayed behind — like always — to help a student who seemed to need it. She offered her time, her care, her trust.
But what she didn’t know was this: it would be her last act of kindness.
The student she stayed for… betrayed her in a way so devastating, so incomprehensible, it shook the entire town of Danvers, Massachusetts — and the nation beyond.
That night, Colleen didn’t go home. That night, the school lost more than a teacher.
It lost a light.
Chops 30
The next morning, her body was found not far from where she taught. Alone. Hidden. Silenced.
And when the student was caught, the response was chilling.
Asked whose blood was on him, he said, “The girl’s.”
Asked where she was, he replied, “She’s buried in the woods.”
Colleen Ritzer’s name became more than just a name. It became a cry for justice.
A symbol of how much can be lost in a single moment of cruelty.
And yet, she is not remembered for how she died — But for how she lived.
In the wake of her loss, thousands wore pink to honor her memory. Scholarships were created in her name. And stories poured in — from students she inspired, colleagues she uplifted, and parents who saw in her a hero.
She believed in goodness until her last breath. And that is how she’ll be remembered.
So today, we say her name. We honor her heart.
And we vow: her kindness will never be forgotten.
Rest in peace, Colleen. The world is better because you were in it.
From Val Rizv
The fact the guy was on live internet and showing his posts on Facebook also about trying to kill her and going to kill her bc she’s white.
Jimmy Lemley
And the thanks she got, rape and death, too bad somebody didn’t inform her about the Halfrican culture, but she probably wouldn’t have believed it any.
************
From a Maid to a Matriarch: The Untold Journey of Mary Anne Trump. She stepped off a steamship in 1930, a young Scottish girl with just $50 in her pocket, no status, no connections— only dreams.
Mary Anne MacLeod left behind the green cliffs of Scotland for the chaos and promise of America. She was just 18. Her hands were made for hard work, not luxury. She moved in with her sister in New York and worked as a maid, scrubbing floors, washing dishes, living on hope.
But fate was watching.
Chops 32
She met a driven young man named Fred Trump, a budding real estate developer with vision in his eyes. They married. And soon, her life transformed from one of service to one of splendor. From dusting chandeliers... to dining beneath them.
Fur coats. Lavish vacations. A mansion. The immigrant maid became the matriarch of an empire.
Yet—what defined Mary Anne was never just wealth.
It was her heart.
Even in privilege, she gave back fiercely. She offered her time, love, and voice to the forgotten—children with cerebral palsy, adults with intellectual disabilities, those society too often left behind. She didn’t just rise; she reached back.
And in her final days, she remained a woman of grace. Quiet strength. Dignity.
Before she was the mother of a President, she was a dreamer who dared to board a ship toward the unknown. Her story is more than politics—it’s a reminder of how far courage and compassion can take you.
A 92 year old Willie Nelson recently got an eight minute standing ovation and was visibly moved at the crowd’s outpouring of love and appreciation that he cried. Thousands chanted, “Forever Willie” This happened at the 2025 Outlaw Music Festival in Phoenix, Arizona.
Chops 34
In 1955, Emma Gatewood left her Ohio home, telling her family she was going for a walk. That “walk” turned into a 2,000-mile trek through mountains, rivers, and untamed wilderness.
At 67, she became the first woman to solo thru-hike the entire Appalachian Trail in a single season. Without hightech gear, sponsors, or support, she carried only a homemade denim sack, a shower curtain for shelter, and wore a simple pair of Keds sneakers.
Why did she do it? To prove she could. Emma had endured a lifetime of hardship — raising 11 children, surviving an abusive marriage, and weathering the Great Depression. After reading about the Appalachian Trail in National Geographic, she decided she could walk it. So, she did.
With unwavering grit, the kindness of strangers, and a profound love for nature, she completed the trail, inspiring
generations of hikers. She returned to hike it again in 1960 and finished a third trek in sections by 1963, becoming the first person to complete the trail three times.
Emma’s courage and determination transformed the hiking world, igniting interest in ultralight backpacking and bringing national attention to the Appalachian Trail. Today, her legacy endures. Hikers still follow the same paths she blazed, walking in the footsteps of Grandma Gatewood — the woman who went out for a walk and never turned back.
Holly won the $1000 in the bikini contest and Bobby won the $1000 for Best in Show!
Chops 36
Facist! Fascism is a far-right political ideology characterized by authoritarianism, nationalism, and the suppression of dissent.
A Misogynist, it is a person who harbors a strong prejudice against women. This attitude can manifest in various ways, including discrimination, disdain, or hostility toward women.
A Xen·o·pho·bic!
Having or showing a dislike of or prejudice against people from other countries: “the xenophobic undertones of this argument”
To Which I Personally Call Bull Cheet!!!
Gene Pontbriant 75 of Daytona Beach passed away peacefully in his home after a short illness.
An avid Motorcyclist,he loved riding with his girlfriend Anne & his friends. Gene was a friend to all, always lending a helping hand and a smile.
Rest in peace Gentleman Gene .
Drop By Anytime And Have A Cold Drink & Listen To Al’s Great Stories “HOME OF”
Ask Al About His Service In The Military & Where He Was
Big Al
“The Most Happening Place In Volusia Co.”
Students destroy tampon dispenser in boys’ bathroom 20 minutes after it was installed
The tampon dispenser in a boy’s bathroom in a Connecticut school was ripped down 20 minutes after being installed.
The principal sent out an email describing the event as “the most egregious instance of vandalism” and promised “consequences” for the “list of suspects.”
Democrats in Connecticut passed a law requiring all schools to have menstrual products in at least 1 boy’s bathroom.
Future Monkee Micky Dolenz -- then billed as Mickey Braddock -- with Bimbo the elephant as “Corky” in his first television series, CIRCUS BOY.
Old Daytona Road. This is the original road linking DeLand to Daytona before Highway 92 or I-4 were built. The road was paved with these bricks around 1916.
I didn’t go to church in jail to find God. I went because it was the only way to interact with guys from other blocks and pass off contraband. On this particular day, I had to get some pills to a guy in B block, and chapel was the safest way to do it. I don’t remember the sermon. I don’t remember the pastor’s name. What I do remember is the janitor.
She was always there, a quiet woman in her late forties, maybe older, maybe younger—jail ages people in strange ways. She wore a faded uniform and kept her eyes down.
That day, as I passed off the pills—a small, sleight-of-hand gesture perfected by survival—there was a sound. A sudden crack of wood against tile. The mop handle had fallen.
It startled everyone. Even the guards looked up.
Then she did something no one expected. She stepped forward. With wrinkled hands and a slight tremble in her voice, she asked the pastor if she could say a few words. But really—she didn’t ask. She just spoke.
She said she’d been mopping the floors of Linn County Jail for eight years. That every night, as the halls emptied and the noise died down, she filled her mop bucket with warm water, a splash of disinfectant… and anointing oil.
She said she prayed over each cell as she worked. Every corner. Every door. Every bunk. Every soul.
We didn’t move. We didn’t breathe.
“I know y’all don’t see me,” she said, “but I see you. And more importantly, God sees you.”
I don’t know the theology of anointing oil. But I know what it feels like when someone speaks life over you with fire in their eyes and tenderness in their voice.
She looked out over the chapel and said, “You think no one’s fighting for you? I been fighting for you on my knees for eight years. You think no one cares? I care. God cares. And this mop water’s got more of heaven in it than you’ll ever know.”
I felt my heart catch in my throat. I felt something deeper than fear or shame. I felt seen.
She said it softly, but with so much force it cracked the room open:
“God loves you. Not the future you. Not the cleaned-up you. He loves you now. Right now. Exactly as you are.”
I’d heard those words before. But never like that. She wasn’t preaching. She was pouring. And we were the ground catching her rain.
And I broke.
Right there, in the middle of the most corrupt thing I’d done that week, I bawled like a kid. So did the guy next to me. So did the dealer from C block and the lifer from A. It was like time stopped, and the Spirit of God swept through those cinderblock walls with the fragrance of Pine-Sol.
Then she picked up her mop and walked out.
The pastor never reclaimed the mic.
That was fifteen years ago. I don’t know her name. I don’t know if she remembers that day. But I do.
Because that janitor, a woman without a title, without a stage - she delivered a sermon that still gets me choked up.
She didn’t come to save us. She came to serve. And in doing so, she became the loudest gospel I’d ever heard.
Chops 46
There is something in a Native American portrait that seems to touch you deeply.
As the Indians were forced to reservations, they faced many new strange things –different schools, odd religion, and racism.
All the changes they went through can often be seen on their faces in a portrait.
One of the stories from the Titanic disaster which is very important but is not told enough is that of Harold Cottam - the wireless operator onboard Carpathia.
On the evening of the 14th of April 1912, he was receiving general news from the Cape Cod long distance wireless station. Towards the end of the news, Cape Cod was sending many messages to Titanic who didn’t seem to be acknowledging them.
Cottam was set to retire soon but was waiting on confirmation from the Parisien about a previous communication they had had. He had already taken his coat off and was ready to turn in.
Upon noticing the messages for Titanic, he called them up asking if they were aware of the batch of messages from Cape Cod.
Titanic responded with “come at once. It is a distress message C.Q.D.”
Cottam then reported this to the Captain who gave Cottam their position for him to send to Titanic.
Chops 48
Mystery Ride June 21, 2025
Meet Here @ 10am KSU 11am
$5 Includes Meal & 50/50
Where The Locals & Bikers Hang Out
Open Daily 7am - 2am
“Get Rid Of Your Hangover Here”
$250 Domestic Long Necks * $350 Imports
This part of the story is pretty well known, Carpathia miraculously arrived at the scene of the disaster 4 hours later and picked up all of Titanic’s remaining survivors. However the surprising part is what Cottam did next.
Upon picking up the passengers, Rostron ordered Cottam to send two official messages, one to the White Star Line and one to Cunard with identical wording stating what had happened. Next Rostron drafted a statement signed by himself for Cottam to send to the associated press. Once these messages were sent, Cottam immediately started working the names of the survivors to the RMS Olympic.
He had stayed up all night the previous night, stayed up all day on Monday, all night on Monday night and all day Tuesday.
During this time he sent the full list of First and Second Class names to Olympic and the list of surviving crew members to the Minnewaska.
When he tried working through Tuesday night, Cottam finally fell asleep fully dressed at the Marconi apparatus with the set still over his head at around 1 or 2 in the morning. He woke up 3 hours later at half past 4 in the morning and went right back to work sending third class names to the Chester. That afternoon is when Titanic’s junior officer Harold Bride was brought up to help Cottam with the workload and allow him to sleep.
The Harley-Davidson “Captain America” from Easy Rider
For many years, it was believed that only two Harley-Davidson “Captain America” bikes were built for Easy Rider—one hero bike and one stunt bike. One was destroyed during filming (crashed and burned), and the other was stolen from Peter Fonda’s garage and never recovered. That’s why most of the exhibited models are replicas.
However, recent research by Paul D’Orleans, published in The Vintagent, suggests that four bikes were actually built by custom shops— not by Peter Fonda himself. According to this research:
One was partly destroyed during filming.
Dan Haggerty, a crew member, saved the remnants.
The other three ended up in Fonda’s garage, but all were later stolen.
THIS IS A GREAT EXAMPLE OF FAITH!!!
Relationship goals: finding someone who will stand by you through thick and thin.
The real Benny Bauer, the nineteen year old Chicago Outlaw that Kathy married. Unpublished pictures from The Bikeriders, 1965-66 (I’ve bought this book twice!!!)
Chops 60
Kathy Bauer, the twenty-five-year-old mother of three children, and wife of the Outlaw Benny. The warm-hearted and brilliant storyteller of the book is played by Jodie Comer, who narrates much of the film.
So back when I had that gnarley 53 Panhead with open pipes I had a hard time setting it up. I did several test trips up and down my street, sometimes pushing the bike home. It was loud, and even kind of to loud for me, I planned on a set of baffles soon.
I pushed the bike back home, the neighbor came out all crazy, cussing me out, really insulting me. I tried to not make a scene out in front of my house. She said she had called the Sheriff’s Office, and he was on his way.
So, I parked the Pan out on the driveway, and set out a lawn chair, and waited.
Sure enough the deputy arrived, and spoke with my neighbor for quite awhile. Then he came over to my place. He was really quite decent about it. Warned me that the county had a noise ordinance after 10pm. And mentioned that these things can get really crazy, and to be careful. He left.
At that time I was riding with some of the local VFW, and we had a Saturday morning breakfast ride, which 5 or 6 guys would stop by to pick me up. I told them to make some noise leaving out. And they did. Their bikes were a lot louder than mine.
Riggletrpz
Action Packed! You’ve all heard the phrase before. Maybe describing a sporting event, a great movie, or a planned party. We recently experienced such a weekend. So buckle up and hang on tight! This is going to go quickly! Ready, deep breath. The memories within my gray matter recall it like this. We kicked off our Saturday morning with a fun little blast straight up I95 to Ormond Beach’s Iron Horse Saloon to register for the annual St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital Poker Run. What a Great cause! And, as usual, we double booked ourselves. Sign ups for the ride were from 9:30-11:00am. Our middle grandson, Branson, had a baseball game at 11:00am
Chops 68
behind the New Smyrna Airport. After a forty minute zoom up to “The Horse”, got signed up and drew our first card, it’s a thirty minute zoom back to the ballpark. An hour and a half or so of baseball, (which Branson and his team won 12-9), we had to offer our quick hugs and good byes to the family, straddle the saddle and catch up with the poker run. The run was already heading to it’s third stop, Renegades on the river. Shoot, we haven’t even made the second stop! So, another zoom northwards, a quick stop at Saints and Sinners, grabbed the second card of a losing hand and off we go! (It’s not about the hand, it’s about helping the cause). Now, heading from Saints to Renegades turned into a little more relaxed ride. Now we can settle in a bit and enjoy the view, as we always do. Through Seville and up to Crescent City where Renegades lives. Found a spot to flip out the kickstand and we’ve arrived. Card number three is safely in hand and it’s time for some refreshments and some mingling. Half an hour or so has snuck by us so we hit the road again.
Fourth stop is The Bimini Bar on east highway one hundred. Pretty good journey from Renegades, but that’s why we’re here, for the ride. Rolled north from Crescent City on seventeen and bumped into highway one hundred in San Meteo. Only one way to turn, so right it is heading east. Bimini will sneak up on you on your left while rounding a left hand curve so be careful. Swung in for little bit more hydration and card number four. Man, what great weather for a ride! Good Grief, look at the time! Bottom’s up! Left turn out of Bimini and aimed it east towards US1. Over the bridge that catapults you right over US1 and points you at the traffic light of the same highway. Left onto 1 and south all the way back to “The Horse”. WOW! What a great turnout! People everywhere, live music, bikes galore, and course drinks all around. Are Friends Electric provided the tunes, “The Horse” provided the “refreshments”, and the participants provided the bikes! The whole thing was a well oiled machine. If you missed this one, Don’t miss the next one. What a day! Another deep breath. O.K., leaving this shindig and heading down to Saints and Sinners for some more live music.
This time CHEG was the featured act, (pronounced KEG). And man, did they bring their A game! If you’ve never heard CHEG before, you owe your eardrums some of their vibes! Trust Me! Couple of sets
and we gave each other that glance. You know the one. That little smile, that eye contact while bobbing to that favorite song. We both said to each other, “I don’t want this day to end”, without saying a word. Before I knew it she was on her phone checking room prices at the Clarion at Destination. “Book It”, I said. Done. This is why you should always carry extra threads, and a toothbrush, in you saddlebag. Hit the room that evening, showered the day off and hit the hay. Up kinda early on Sunday morning for our second wind. Maybe our third, but who’s counting? Free breakfast and on the road again. Showed up at “The Horse” once again.
This time just for a bloody and mimosa. Rolled over towards Blue Spring State Park to check out a swimming hole our eldest granddaughter, Kaitlin told us about. Nice!! Picked a direction and ended up near lake Monroe in a quaint little historic park called Green Spring. Joined hands and took a stroll through it’s sights. Ran into a kindly old gentleman who suggested to us that if we walked routinely, we would someday make it to ninety seven years old! The following week would be his birthday of the same number! God has Blessed him very generously! Short stop at the Foxhead Lounge for one and done to end the weekend. With God’s Grace and Blessing, ALL of our remaining days, weeks, and years are going to be this........................ Action Packed!! Gregg Riggle
Chops 78
July 27th
