Highlights:

• Catching air off some backroad hills
• 3 creek crossings
• Steve almost running out of gas
• Chopper Shit
• Someone who isn’t Steve stalling their bike in front of all the chopper bros
• Some girl saying “all of these bikes look like they were in a fire”
• Vans Galore
• Turbo NOS Harley

Photos by Alex and myself.

Day 1:
Met up at Ben’s garage and then raced out of the city to make it to the Red Rabbit drive-in just before it closed. Setup camp at our favorite Duncannon camp spot from previous COTT trips along the Susquehanna River. Route 322 through Duncannon is basically a trucker spot and has more strip clubs than you’d think. We tried them all out and ended by getting kicked out of the last stop because somebody couldn’t keep there hands to themselves. Ended the night by the fire with Ed drinking my whiskey and becoming agro Dad… then made the post below which he didn’t remember the next morning. haha dick.

Day 2:
Woke up on the Susquehanna and had the first river bath of the vacation. Packed up and headed West on 274 towards Raystown Lake. Only did 100 miles but it took us all day which was fine when there’s no real plan. Went through Orbisonia, PA and checked out the old trolley cars and steam trains from the Industrial Revolution. Finally made it to Raystown and parked the bikes in the woods and went on foot searching for a cliff jumping spot Ed knew of. Ed showed everyone up by diving off the 40′ cliff.

Day 3:
Woke up on Raystown Lake. Andrew and Devyn arrived overnight and somehow didn’t wake anybody. Devyn slept in the tent without poles haha. Headed out to the local diner for food and to figure-out the days plan. Decided on going to check out a blue hole that I knew of from back when I lived in State College, PA. It turned out to epic as I remembered with a 35’/40′ and 25′ cliff jumps and clear water that has this wild blue/green hue. After wearing ourselves out swimming we heading towards the closest town and walked in the first bar we found. Cheap beers, a jukebox, and some local characters made for a fun time. Finished the day with a ‘family’ dinner at Burger King.

Day 4:
Slept in after staying up late and night swimming when the lake was like glass. That morning we split ways with Devyn, Andrew, and Alex who were heading back to Philly. Ben and I took off for The PA Grand Canyon. Again, tons more miles of great roads all the way there. Made it to Wellsboro, PA where we had a drink at the Penn Wells Hotel which was built in 1869. Charged up our phones and got some recommendations of places to go from some other people at the bar. Checked out the view from the Grand Canyon and setup camp in the State park.

Day 5:

Last day of the trip. Woke up with some coffee and split our last beer and hit the road towards Bloomsburg to check out a cycle museum a guy at the bar recommended yesterday. More fun roads with nobody on them all the way to Bills Bike Barn only to find out they were closed. Fortunately, Bill pulled up in his Willy’s Jeep and Ben talked him into letting us check out a portion of the museum. The guy has some real gems like a Moto Guzzi Lemans 1 in mint condition and a Moto Guzzi dump truck powered by a single cylinder motor.

Every year towards late August a handful of rare souls converge together to wreak havoc on the streets of Brooklyn, like some horrid natural phenomenon emerging from the sea to consume an entire city. The sheer anticipation of the solid one-night rumble attached to your motorcycle, surrounded by the sharpest cavalcade of your most trusted friends, is almost enough to say fuck it and sit at Perry’s Place in Kensington for the remainder of the night. Sense kicks in before another shot is poured and we round up the men, fire up the oil and head north in search of any blood that gets in our way.

Once on the interstate super highway, any driver to do us wrong finds a deluge of vulgar acts in their headlights, essentially making the highway a safer place for the next guy on two wheels, who may find himself in the path of the same now enlightened driver. This display of road justice may include performing sexual acts with your motorcycle tank while slowing the ignorant driver to a crawl.

After battling through heavy traffic on the BQE, we arrived at our destination at the Works Engineering shop. Now this is no back-alley, ram-shackled hut, rather, a highly-fortified, monstrous structure where we can hide from the creatures that appear after a 3:45am last call at the Matchless bar. Somewhere I had stopped taking pictures as I became too diluted with whiskey and beer, but I managed to snap off a few photos in the shop as our friend and host, Ray, entertained with new stories.

No one expects the morning to feel good. The only thing you can do is play catch-up with the weird sauce for the few hours missed while your brain rested. We rolled our bikes out from the catacombs of Works and parked them against the curb, while onlookers of the new york vintage motorcycle show took pictures and rallied down north 14th street. It is a much better show when you emerge from the inside looking out, smelling of road grease, stale booze and a wretched back ache from the floor/roof you made a bed that night—It’s the only way to prepare for this motorcycle show and looks more authentic than some wide-eyed gawker. Eventually we set out for food down Bedford Ave., looking as if some brutes were set loose from their cage. Shirtless Mike made sure to carry our strange vibes to the fullest exposing would be brunch eaters to a full chest of hair.

Somewhere around 1:30, I scouted out Manhattan in search of some threads and found no traffic to be had from Brooklyn to the tunnel (our exit strategy for later that day). I made my way back to the show and met the rest of our group.

After “looking hard” for the rest of the show, we decided to pack our remaining energy into the trip home over the Williamsburg Bridge, across Canal St., through the Holland tunnel, over the detoured Pulaski Skyway, down route one and into PA for a toll-less venture back to our philth down south.

Chris led us on some nice roads through Jersey.

Kevin roasting the RD smoking out everyone behind us.

Ricky’s pull cable broke about 10 miles into the trip but he was able to jerry rig the push cable to work. Forward rolling throttle is weird but that didn’t keep Ricky from chilling on the ride.

Good time, Good friends, Good roads, and Good weather.

Jason, Dan, Vinny, and Eric had a wild time past weekend. Those guys have an impressive shop setup and are a wealth of cycle and fabrication knowledge.