Vol.2 - Issue 7 - DSR & A PAIR OF PLIERS

CHASING THE RIDE

Stop. Take a breath. Is there a ride you still want to do this season? Go. Make it happen!

Friendly tip:

We are approaching a time of year when weather can change in an instant.

Make sure you’re carrying layers and warmer riding clothes in case you get caught in unexpected weather. Rain and snow are sneaky sometimes and you’ll be able to better navigate changing road conditions if your body is dry and warm. And of course, make sure no matter what the weather, you’re wearing clothing that keeps you highly visible to other vehicles.

If the worst happens on the road, or if you have questions about motorcycle law, call or text Rider Justice: 303-388-5304.

@MotorcycleRiderJustice

Motorcycle Lawyers

002

WHAT IS SLOW MAG?

Devilstone Run One Pair of Pliers

WHAT IS SLOW MAG?

It’s in our nature to want to belong. In fact, you might be able to summarize the full scope of humanity’s shared history through the lens of a desire to belong.

We will do just about anything to get it.

Belonging is about safety. If you belong, you feel right on the inside and have security on the outside. Those who belong have a tribe that has their back.

It’s been said that if you don’t belong, don’t be long. The opposites are true for outsiders. Outsiders struggle to find a community or a tribe to lay down and rest with.

But the need for belonging remains primal. Even the animal kingdom demonstrates this. The runt of the litter might not make it. Wolves fight each other for power in the pack. Lions know who in the pride gets to eat first and who doesn’t. Survival of the fittest runs its course, and those who don’t belong don’t make it.

Sometimes we humans act like wolves. We bite, backstab, and gnash our teeth at each other as if it will help us climb the social ladder into belonging. We even deceive ourselves into thinking that it’s better to cancel someone than it is to try and figure out how to work with them. But, working together demands more of us than we are often willing to give. So we stay stuck in our ways and shout our hate through glowing screens.

We believe in a different kind of world, and we think this Slow Mag and coffee are the perfect conduit for all kinds of people with diverse backgrounds to come together and go deeper.

“If you want to belong, serve. You will never feel belonging if you take.” - Kelsey Wake

The Slow Mag is our contribution to the thinkers and drinkers out there who don’t feel like they fit into the categories society has provided us with. It’s a mag all about throwing off the labels that prohibit us from a more honest conversation by celebrating the life experiences that change who we are for the better.

Find a comfy spot. Brew up some coffee. And enjoy another round of Slow Mag. Full of Heart, The K&C Crew

Photo By: @shawn_walsh_photo

Devilstone Run 6

2022

PICTURES: Amelia Ponce, Thomas Neal, Sam Wake Words: the kids & CObras crew

Devilstone

We are always on the hunt for experiences that invite people to wake up the childlike wonder in their souls. Devilstone is ripe for such a cause. For over a year, we have been dreaming up how to participate in the Devilstone Run, and those dreams came to fruition this past September.

The words that follow are the tale of our journey east to participate in the experience. Altogether we tacked on well over 4000 miles in two weeks. Our journey started here in Portland. We loaded a mobile coffee shop, a mobile tattoo shop, and three motorcycles into a trailer. We departed at 10am on a Wednesday, and 22 hours later, we rolled into the Silver Spur in Sheridan, Wyoming, for breakfast.

Rolling into Sheridan felt so good. It was the beginning of another wild family reunion. Kelsey describes the experience well.

“Devilstone Run is like showing up to a family reunion and meeting a bunch of extended relatives you never knew existed, but you connect with in such a deep, immediate way that you’re left wondering how you ever did life without knowing them.”

What follows in this article are a few short stories and some thoughts from the folks who participated. We hope this mag gives you a small glimpse into how incredible the experience was. And if you didn’t make it this year, make sure you do next year.

Devilstone Run Six

We asked Brett Riley, one of the owners of Go Fast, to describe what the Devilstone Run means to him. These are his words...

“Devilstone Run is Go Fast’s invitation to experience firsthand the community we want to create in the world. It’s an adventure that many people come to from all over the country. People travel 1000+ miles just to get to the run, which is an experience in and of itself, and it is one of the things we especially love. We love the challenge it gives people and how it inspires your soul. We love that it gets you outside. Most people have had their biggest adventure before getting to the Devilstone Run. Then when you arrive, a fantastic community from other parts of the country has arrived. It’s not a monolith It’s not a bunch of bikers. It’s not even people who believe the same things or see the world the same way. It’s just people who want to find their best story and live their best story. This group seeks to support each other, whether they differ politically or socioeconomically. We can share one thing in common: wanting what’s best and a desire to live our best life, and supporting each other without ego or pride. It’s also a chance to showcase our home, Wyoming. We love our state, and it’s a lot of fun sharing all the unique places we get to ride with everyone who shows up. Wyoming is full of backroads and odd little towns full of history and weirdness, like Spotted Horse and Shell.

As an outsider going on the run for the first time, Brett described exactly what it was like for us. A lot of planning has to go into one of these trips. Riding a motorcycle the whole way creates limitations regarding what you can bring. You have to pack light and only bring the bare necessities. But for us, we had a lot more factors to consider. Essentially we were a traveling coffee/tattoo shop. At every destination, we were up in the wee hours of the morning unloading our trailer to set up the coffee bar. And in the evening, we were working to the wee hours of night helping Matt and Willis with the traveling

tattoo shop. Plus, we had our motorcycles with us. So there was a lot to unload and reload at every junction. But it was totally worth it. Few things are more gratifying than a hard day’s work. And Brett is right; getting to the event was 1500 miles of travel. We knocked it out in good time by making a bed in the back of our 4-Runner. One of us would sleep while the other two drove, only stopping for gas and the occasional pee break. We had plans to cook up some grub on an electric skillet while driving, but we kept tripping the circuit. So gas station food, a bag of carrots, and some hummus held us over.

We asked Amelia Ponce, to describe what the Devilstone Run means to her. These are her words... Devilstone is more than just a motorcycle run. It’s an invitation to a tight-knit community that shares common ground. It’s an opportunity to share your story and all that you stand for while being welcomed regardless of where you came from or what bike you showed up on. And most importantly, it’s an experience that will make an imprint on your life through the memories you make, conversations you have, and relationships you build. All in one weekend, through the wild, Wild West.

The run was loaded with fun moments and unforgettable memories. Which is kind of a

Motorcycles

One of the things I love about Amelia is her easy-going spirit and contagious laugh. She just jumps into the fun and makes you feel like family.

During the Slow races, I signed her up without telling her. A Motorcycle Slow Race is just that: a slow race. You line up on the starting line, and when the green drops (or Pops yells go through the microphone), you race to the end as slowly as possible. If you get there last without putting your feet down, you win. It’s a thrill because Fast

is Feeling. And it’s like anything, harder to do than it looks.

Amelia participated in the race on a motorcycle she had never ridden named “The Rat,” a 1986 VT1100 Honda Shadow. The best money $200 can buy. It’s old and clunky but makes for a great daily rider at 33,000 miles and counting.

Amelia saddled up and almost won. It had a lot to do with my screaming at her, “How bad do you want it?!?!” as she leisurely wobbled down the track. She also held a dead stare with the finish line the whole way while laughing. A feat only Amelia could accomplish.

It’s little moments like these that forge friendships and memories you will hold onto for a lifetime. How would I summarize the event? It is possible to have fun in any situation. You just have to choose to make your own.

But then the event also has these powerful moments where you tap deep into your soul of yourself and talk about things that truly matter. There were combat vets, moms, dads, leftwing, right-wing, cancer fighters, blue collar, white collar, new

bikes, old bikes, and more on this ride. The only way people of such a diverse range can come together is if they are more interested in the well-being of those around them than they are being right. And when this is the mentality of a group of people, real meaningful stuff can be discussed. I shared a conversation with a good friend under the moon on the shore of a Lake beneath the Teton Mountain Range. We sipped whiskey and opened up about the real things going on in our lives. You can’t buy that kind of conversation. It’s priceless. It’s unforgettable. We asked Matt Wake, aka... Lou’s Kid, to describe what the Devilstone Run meant to him. These are his words...

“DSR, for me was about making memories! There is something about getting out on the open road with nothing but your buddies and the basic necessities (motorcycles, friends, & tattoos ;) to get you in the right head space. On insta’ I recently posted that “I’m desperate to live a story worth telling. This is something I’ve come to terms with. Denying risk is denying my humanity. After all, that’s all I am…human.”

Thanks for reading! Registration for DSR 7 is probably open as you read this magazine. Do yourself a favor and sign up as soon as possible. you don’t want to miss it.

The Kids & Cobras Crew

A pair of pliers

• One Pair of Pliers

• Your Friends

It was a basic August night in the middle of a Portland summer, the perfect time to ride. The Pacific Northwest sun takes longer to set than it does in any other part of the world; at least, that’s how it seems. It’s probably because the rain has stopped, and the dry heat starkly contrasts the winter rainy season.

The bike is beautiful and sounds perfect. Nice and loud and a looker, for sure. Also, a steal of a buy. It is hard to find such a bike this old in this condition.

Once everyone got off work, we met up at a gas station just off Burnside and chose our route for the evening. The goal was to head East for a few hours and find our way back before it got too late.

Little did we know that the night was destined to end at 3am, long after sunset.

Our crew was a good mixture of folks. Portland is a wanna-be-big-city of transplants. It feels more like a small town with tall buildings than a city. Nate was the only local within our group of 10 or so riders that night. So whenever he is with us, we like to let the one born and raised in the PNW lead the way, and he always shows all kinds of fabulous roads and spots only a native knows about.

Nathan was cruising on his New Dyna. New is a relative term in this scenario because the bike is an older model with barely any miles.

Before this ride, Nathan always cruised on a newer Triumph Street Twin. But he recently made the switch. His wife just had a baby, and I guess he felt it was time for a change. Something more suited for daddy. Ha!

After about an hour of riding, I started to smell gas. It was so thick in the air that I thought my bike was leaking. I was also riding an old dog, so I assumed it was me. After another 15 minutes of riding, Nate quickly pulled off the road. We all followed suit and dropped kickstands underneath the thick coverage of pines and started to assess the situation.

Nate’s Harley was leaking gas everywhere. Of the community riding that night, we were a mix of mechanics with varying degrees of experience concerning motorcycle maintenance. A couple country boys making sense of life in the city, a special education teacher, an

Things-to-bring-on-an-eveNing-ride-toensure-your-fun-checklist:

elopement photographer, a tattoo artist, a preacher, an NPA moto employee, a paint salesman, and a personal trainer.

Concerning tools, the only thing any of us brought was one pair of pliers, and I think someone also had fruit snacks.

With that one pair of pliers, we diagnosed the issue and determined we didn’t have enough tools to remedy the situation. One of the carburetor floats was stuck open, so the gas just poured out the bleed line like a hose.

What to do?

Well, the sun was still high in the sky, so we pushed the bike behind this mattress we found in the woods and kept riding. Two rode double on one bike, and we kept the adventure alive.

We took off down the road another 30 minutes to a beautiful spot on the Sandy river. We skipped rocks, laughed, talked about the ride for a bit, and then headed back to the site where we “hid” the Dyna under the mattress to wait for AAA to come to get us.

It took AAA forever to show, so everyone left except for Nate and me. The last two motorcycles rode off into the distance, and for a solid 5 minutes, maybe more, we could hear them riding away. The countryside was so quiet the sound of their bikes echoed serenely off the

hills. Before long, The sun set, and the pitch black of night filled all the space around us.

AAA never made it out.

At 1am, I called my wife and asked if she could get my truck and come get us. She and her sister began their rescue mission. We also needed a motorcycle ramp, so we called our friend Sammy who has keys to a motorcycle garage in town, and woke him up to see if he could help. Like a good friend, that’s precisely what he did. He met the ladies on the nefarious corner of SE 7th and Division and hooked them up with a ramp.

The night was chilly, and I didn’t have anything warm to wear because we didn’t plan to be gone long. But we made the most of it and rationed our one water bottle. Luckily Nate brought snacks.

Our plans for a ride were dashed. Our evenings could have easily been ruined.

But they weren’t. In the quiet of the night, Nate and I spent the unexpected extra time catching up on life.

We talked about being dads. We talked about money and our careers. We threw rocks down the highway and chased a raccoon. At one point, before calling my wife, we thought, “What if we put the Dyna in neutral and try to push it down

the road with the other motorcycle.” We both knew it was a bad idea, but we tried anyways. We made it 300 yards and gave up.

The magic is in the disruption. We should pay more attention to the interruptions of life. We can be so busy and hard working that we forget to enjoy the journey. The situation we found ourselves in was a colossal inconvenience. We both had to get up early to work in the morning. We both had wives at home with the kids. We both missed dinner. To top it off, a motorcycle breakdown could be expensive. We had every reason in the book to be stressed and angered. But the opposite worked itself out within us. We just embraced the circumstances and made the most of it. I have certainly spent more time than I wish to admit behaving more like a machine than a human. I have lost my sense of self to things that don’t matter. I have stressed about situations that never added a single day to my life.

It’s funny how interruptions can be the very thing we need for something meaningful and memorable to be stirred up.

There are so many things distracting us from being here. Jobs Stress Chores Events Fear Deadlines Appointments etc...

But what will we gain if we get to the end of our days having missed out on the joy of the journey?

Is it really worth being annoyed by the interruptions? Or do these interruptions actually have a purpose?

The disruptions in life are opportunities in disguise that can help us become more present.

Every man dies. Few ever live.

I am glad all we brought was a pair of pliers.

More often than we would like to admit, we don’t get what we want because we quit early or we didn’t take the necessary risk to get it.

Instead of acting on instinct, we settled for mediocrity. We went with the flow instead of swimming up stream toward fresher waters. The Outlaw Jacket is for those who find it more comfortable to swim against the current than die in stagnant waters.

The Outlaws of history chose to pursue meaning no matter what culture said the right thing to do was.

Johnny cash wore black and turned prisons into concert halls. Elvis disregarded segregation. Martin Luther King Jr. spoke the truth. Viktor Frankl survived Auschwitz and went on to say, “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”

The Outlaw Jacket is a nod to those who align with outlaw logic. If you prefer to choose your own attitude in any given set of circumstances, then this hip denim getup is for you. It’s the perfect jacket for staying warm and stylish through the chilly seasons, or for throwing on during a cool afternoon ride.