Vol.2 - Issue 11 - Skyline Drive & Anxiety

CHASING THE RIDE

Motorcycle Lawyers Standing up for Bikers

Friendly tip:

This time of year there are less bikes on the road and auto drivers are even less aware of your presence. Take extra care when riding and especially watch when vehicles make left-hand turns.

The majority of auto vs. motorcycle accidents occur when cars make left turns across traffic when the bike has the right-of-way.

If the worst happens to you on the road, call Rider Justice.

Mediocrity is a premature death while you are still breathing.

A lot of people choose to drink mediocre coffee and live a mediocre life. At Kids & Cobras, we roast specialty coffee & design goods that inspire you to live a courageous life without regrets.

Skyline & Anxiety

Kelsey Wake

Editor LEtter

The K&C Crew

2023 The Year of _____... JK’s Curve

Sidewalks of Struggle & Hope Sam Wake

Collecting Stories about People who love motorcycles & Coffee.

Slow Mag is our unique way of inviting you to slow down and enjoy that brew. With a heavy emphasis on photography, each issue captures the sexuality, danger, rebellion, freedom, and adventure that motorcycles bring to our lives. So pause. Sip some coffee. & Enjoy!

Ride Fast Drink Slow

V2. 11.

CONTRIBUTORS:

Motorcycle Rider Justice

@motorcycleriderjustice

Sam Wake @samwake_

Brock Junak @brockjunak

Kelsey Wake @kelsey.wake

JK Winders @jkwinders

Slow Mag @readslowmag

Kids & Cobras @kidsandcobras

Kindred Studios

@Kindred Studios

Think well of yourself while you are learning to do it better.

Welcome back to another month of Slow, a magazine for the thinkers and drinkers who prefer a backroad over an interstate. This magazine is interested in the story behind the people who love things like motorcycles, coffee, art, and the great outdoors. It’s for the people who aren’t afraid to let go for dear life and are looking for a bit of inspiration. We think life is a gift and that we should live accordingly to this truth.

Life should be delicious and so should your coffee. We hope this magazine helps spice up the seemingly mundane moments. We have been asking ourselves a question lately, “What’s the difference between a life of substance and a life of mediocrity?”

Here is what we got so far...

“Treat the body rigorously so it will not be disobedient to the mind. “- Seneca

Don’t avoid difficult things. Difficult things are good for you. They are good for your mind.

Find something that makes you sweat.

Start Jiu Jitsu.

Go to the gym.

Join a rec league.

Take a cold shower.

Sell or donate things you don’t use.

Get up 5min earlier. Then try 10 min earlier. Then give 30min earlier a go. Have that conversation with your mom you have been putting off.

A person with substance leans in when the going gets tough. They find ways to do difficult things because the challenge itself makes you better. They live intentionally, and the fruit of their life is delicious. A person defined by mediocrity is less than they can be. They are complacent, unintentional, a drifter who’s life is determined by the weather instead of conviction. Mediocre anything is less than half as good as it could be.

We hope this month of Slow invites you to Slow down and enjoy the brew so that when you speed back up, you can chase down the life you dream of living.

JK’s Curve

Photos & WORDS By JK WINDERS

Looking back over the past several years, I see several trends of imbalance. There are times when I hustle too much and get burnt out or I settle into a lethargic state and become lazy. I either work too much or play too much. I give too much or not enough. I show too much confidence or too much humility. I remember learning how to ride a bicycle. I was not gifted with balance in my youth, and I think I was still riding around the neighborhood with training wheels until I was about seven years old. I remember the day my dad took me out into the street sans training wheels. I recall the fear, the falling, the crying, the scarring, and the desire to just throw in the tow-

2023; The Year Of ...

I’m one of those really cool people that assigns a word, or a theme, to each year. Is it silly and a bit overly sentimental? Absolutely. But I’ve seen that it gives a strong sense of identity and focused trajectory to whatever season I’m entering.

I haven’t really made any New Years resolutions in a few years. Most people I know haven’t either. But we do make goals of things we want to see happen in the New Year. That theme I typically land almost acts as a roadmap for the goals and desires I set for myself.

Last year, I assigned 2022 the word ‘balance’. And looking back on the year as a whole, it really was the perfect driving theme of just how much I was able to discover a sense

el. It took time, but eventually I got the hang of it. I learned balance, I learned control, I learned tenacity and how to push past pain and fear. Though, it did take a lot of time.

Last year was the season in which I want to correct that so that maybe I can stand a little more straight in order to better handle my capacity. Because I believe somewhere between full-on hustle culture and “The 4 Hour Work Week” is a healthy lifestyle. A sense of balance was one of the most important things I learned growing up, and it’s a sense that constantly needs to be refined and redefined. There’s a lot that came to fruition this past year that I’m excited to expand.

New friendships that I’m eager to develop further. New ways of creating in which I’m happy to further develop. New places that have inspired me, and new treasures discovered at places to which I will always go back.

I keep seeing a bunch of write ups about the potency, or lack thereof, of New Years resolutions;

“90% of resolutions don’t make it to February” “People are in fact incapable of change.”

“Experts say making resolutions is a futile endeavor”

Honestly, most experts can hush on up. I am all for letting people believe in change, bettering themselves and setting ideals for which to strive. There’s a lot of growing to be done this year. A lot of rebuilding even. The ability to see people, hear people, and meet people where they’re at.

I invite you to explore the possibilities of the coming twelve months, think about what you want out of that time, and assign the identity you want it to posses.

2023; The Year Of ...

SideWalks of Struggle & Hope

Sam Wake

It’s the off-season in the Pacific Northwest, so motorcycle riding slows a lot. The moto community has moved into the garage for the winter. This time of year can be heavy on the brain in the North. It’s cold rainy, and foggy.

Sometimes you just need to get out to the mountain to brew some coffee, make stir fry, and reflect on life a bit. Life is a struggle, and getting away has always been how I garner fresh perspective.

There is a little spot we call Switch Back Point that overlooks the valley near Mt. Hood. It’s quiet and a little muddy to get to, making it peaceful, especially in the rainy winter. It’s good to get away from the sidewalks of Portland from time to time so that I can reflect on my life in Portland. The calm of nature helps me process the strange moments of life that turn my belly inside out and challenge my understanding of things. Below I tell one of those stories...

On an ordinary day in Portland, my wife and I were making a coffee run to Push X Pull in our neighborhood when we saw something that looked incredibly disturbing. A man on the side of the road smoking

a joint appeared to have a severe amount of blood flowing down his leg. His jean pant leg was completely soaked through, and his white shoe was no longer white. We drove by slowly, trying to assess what we were seeing. Alone on the corner, he looked dazed and aggressively shouted, “Help me!” We were on a oneway, so we cut back around the block and called 9-1-1. We pulled our vehicle up on the sidewalk and cautiously approached the gentleman. Portland has a high population of people who do not have a home and have to live on the streets. We have lived in the inner core of SE Portland for 6 years and have grown accustomed to the houseless pitching tents next to homes sold for millions of dollars. It’s a mind-bender trying to make sense of the extreme distance between the wealthy and the poor in our city. We assessed quickly that this man was in a serious condition and needed help beyond our expertise, but we approached with caution because we did not know why he was bleeding so badly and if he would be aggressive toward us in our attempt to help. The 911 correspondent on the phone was super helpful, and we were able to get the man to slowly sit down and calm down. A construction worker from across the street joined us. He pulled out a knife and cut his own sweatshirt to ap-

ply pressure to the area where the bleed was soaking through his pants and flowing down the sidewalk into the crosswalk.

All was quiet while we waited too long for the ambulance to arrive. My heart beat fast as I looked upon a man who may breathe his last in front of me. Thankfully the ambulance arrived, they took over, and we made our contemplative way home.

Kelsey broke the silence through glossy eyes saying, “that was somebody’s little boy once.”

Life.

It is compelling that we live between the push and pull of things. We live in what I have come to call “The &.” On the same sidewalk on any ordinary day, the rich and the poor pass over it all the same. One man hopelessly clinging to life alone, another holding hands with the partner of his dreams on their way to purchase a delicious cup of $5.00 coffee.

Life happens on sidewalks.

I am often perplexed by the pain and evils permeating our world. I feel sad about them. Nuclear war, slavery, genocide, disease. It’s so much for the mind to bear. But there is also hope that contrasts the struggle, and I got a small glimpse of it on that sidewalk when 3 strangers attended to the needs of someone they didn’t know. I was moved by the generosity of the construction worker who cut up his shirt for someone he did not know. The hope we get to live with is that love can transcend our brokenness, and it does every day. Strangers can love each other and build something beautiful amid the mess. It happens in small acts of generosity. It happens when you choose to pull over and allow your life to be interrupted by the needs of another. Hope manifests itself in the struggle on sidewalks when people choose to value and care for each other. We need more of that in our world.

Slowing down is what this magazine is all about. When we slow down, we create opportunity for the head knowledge to seep down into our heart and transform us into more intentional people.

We get one life. We will breathe our last breath at some point. Each breath is a gift and an opportunity to grow and be more intentional with how we live our lives on the sidewalks.

One of the greatest rides a motorcyclist in Portland can take is a leisurely roll through the west hills on Skyline Drive. It’s windey and relatively slow moving making it perfect for new riders learning to corner and enjoyable for the veterans just looking to get out for a bit. We often take this route from SE Portland up to St. Johns Bridge and stop at a great little coffee shop known as Two Stroke. A couple years ago, before Kelsey was riding motorcycles herself, she went on one of those rides and then wrote about it afterward. Here is what she wrote.

Summer 2019

“Recently, we were spending an evening at the park during what just so happened to also be a BUMPIN’ neighborhood block party. The air was thick with the smell of BBQ food and sweat, kids were running around everywhere screaming and laughing, and the rich reverberations of a live band created a sense of authenticity in an otherwise surface-level event. And then there was Journey (our 3-year-old), impatiently waiting in line to take on the bounce house. To be clear, we had already spent the previous hour

or so feeding watermelon to some miniature ponies (both of whom were dressed to look like unicorns) so this whole block party thing was really scoring Sam and I some major, parental brownie points. After what seemed like an eternity, it was finally Jo’s turn to enter the vinyl funhouse of chaos and magic, but she wouldn’t budge. After complain-asking (fellow parents - you know exactly what I’m talking about) a million times when it was going to be her turn to go, the time had finally come and she suddenly was far from interested. Journey was scared to death to crawl through the doorway of this bounce house and play with a few other kids for a whoppin’ 7 minutes before she’d be asked to exit just as quickly as she entered. To make things worse, the more we calmly provided her with some verbal encouragement, the more her anxiety seemed to escalate. We went from uneasy hesitance to a full-blown panic attack in a matter of seconds.

The following 20 minutes ended up playing out like this:

Uncontrollable sobbing.

“Can you hold me? I’m sad.”

More uncontrollable sobbing, but this time in Sam’s arms.

Slowly, the sobbing slows down. Enter in post-sob, hiccup phase.

Okay, now we are taking deep breaths. Good, very good.

“Babe, do you want to go try and jump again now that you’ve calmed down?”

Looks at the bounce house and then back at us. Begins sobbing again. Okay. Got it.

“I’m all done now. I don’t want to go inside that thing

anymore.”

“Journey, we understand you feel scared, but we also know you’re brave and can do this.”

“I’m brave? I’m brave. I’m brave. I’m brave.”

Group hug.

I want you to know that Journey did in fact choose to be brave and eventually, she boldly ventured through the inflatable door. Would you believe me if I also told you that within moments of her initial bounce, she told us it was, in fact, that it was the best day ever? No? Then you definitely haven’t spent much time with a toddler. They’re a trip. Sam and I cheered without modesty right alongside her because we were so freaking proud she chose to do a hard thing with such courage.

And because he and I were thrilled to no longer hold the gaze of every person in a 10-foot vicinity of us. However, this post isn’t solely about Journey’s social anxiety. It’s about mine. Rewind about six hours.

Sam and I are tearing down Skyline Drive (on his motorcycle obvi), and trust me when I say that the sun wasn’t the only thing heating up the afternoon. Stop feeling weird and be happy for us. We really like each other.

After cruising around for a while, we made our way over to Two Stroke Coffee (a motorcycle-themed coffee establishment) for some refreshing drinks and the plan to talk without our kids interrupting us every 5 seconds. However, Sam had no clue that almost immediately upon opening the door to the most Instagram-friendly paradise, I got nervous. Like, super nervous. I’m talkin’ the kind of nervous that makes people rigid and awkward. In less than half a second, I went from cloud 9 to completely intimidated by ev-

erything I saw. I also didn’t know how on earth to even begin to verbalize these feelings because I was so overwhelmed by the emotion of I’m-not-cool-enough. After a brief scan of the place (the sort of scanning where your head doesn’t move, just your eyes because for some reason you feel like it’s suddenly socially unacceptable to use your neck for viewing things around you— I know you know what I’m talking about) I noticed Sam was drifting away from me and towards a clothing rack of Two Stroke Coffee merch. Great, more cool stuff in a cool place that’s currently inhabited by a girl who feels extremely not cool at the moment.

We picked out a sweatshirt for me and a drink to share (either we’re super cutesy, and we still love to share cooties, or we were broke because my sweatshirt was $40, you decide) before heading up to the counter to make our purchase. Well, for me to make our purchase because in, that moment, I realized Sam had gone and snagged a spot at a table by the window, and I was currently the person who was going to engage in conversation with the barista in order to make said purchase.

The exchange between the barista and I ended up going something like this:

Barista: “So, what are you up to today?”

Me: *nervous laugh* Why am I laughing? She didn’t say anything funny. Oh, my husband and I *shakily point to Sam who is probably wishing he had taken some other, way cooler girl on a date to ride his very cool motorcycle* just decided to go for a ride on his new bike (shoot, do you call it a bike or a motorcycle?) because I have never ridden one before, so today is my first time (redundant much?), and he wanted to bring me here, so yeah! And as soon as I leave, I’m go-

ing to ask him to kindly run me over with it because I am so embarrassed.

Barista: “Nice.”

Me: *nervous laugh* So, have you worked here for very long? Good job, that was a normal question. Super adult of you.

Barista: It’s actually my second day.

Me: *nervous laugh* WHY THE HELL DO I KEEP LAUGHING WHEN NOTHING IS FUNNY?! Congrats! Great job Kels, you officially killed this conversation.

Barista: “Thanks! You’re all set. Enjoy the drink!”

Me: *smile* Thank you. I’m never coming here ever again.

The rest of our date was as good as a date can be when one person has walls up about their inner world because they’re crippled by insecurity and anxiety. Of course, Sam was 100% aware that I was living in total denial about what was taking place beneath the surface of my skin because, hello, marriage game strong. The truth, however, is that I was too scared to vocalize how socially intimidated I was by Two Strokes Coffee and its barista. I didn’t want to say it out loud because I thought that if I didn’t, maybe it wasn’t actually true. And Sam was too wise to force a conversation prematurely.

So there we sat, two people madly in love, but trapped on opposite sides of an invisible wall because in that moment, I believed isolation was an easier path to take than vulnerability. Another lie. Which on the back end of all this, really got me thinking.

For some reason, something that honestly takes a ton of guts to identify and name, has earned a connotation that is far from synonymous with courageous. With or without realizing it, the term “anxiety” has be-

come this bandwagon we hop on in order to keep up with the latest, pop culture trends. We throw it around casually, like it’s something to joke about and as though doesn’t carry any real weight. Oddly enough, we have turned a symptom of crippling fear into the fashionable patch we all want for our faded, jean jackets because somehow, we think it helps us fit in. But let’s get real and talk about anxiety for what it truly is — which is not trendy or fashionable by any means. Anxiety is something that is actually so freaking burdensome because it leads us to confuse reality with lies and fears with failure.

So in case you’ve recently had an experience with anxiety like Journey or me, here’s what I want you to know:

No one on the planet is more valuable than you, and you are more valuable than no one.

Fear’s number one objective is to convince you that hard things don’t help you become stronger but rather destroy and ruin you. This isn’t true.

Insecurity thrives on a diet of comparison and isolation. Conversely, it quickly wilts when you choose to be vulnerable and do life communally.

Summed up: everyone feels insecure at one point or another so stop acting like you’re the only person dealing with it. That’s selfish.

Lastly, take a’ deep breath. You’re not alone, and you’re gonna be ok.