went out last night with bikerMetric reader mike bailey for beer and blabbing about bikes. i think i did most of the blabbing.
we hit an irish pub called callaghan’s and had one great bartender and one crappy one. it was all good as the beer was cold and cheap, unlike that fake “irish pub” i had the misfortune to visit in jackson, mississippi. in the end, we were out a couple hours later than i planned, which means we had a great time and got loaded. mike knows how to drink. if you can keep up with me and ride away, you’re a man. or a fool. either way, f**k yeah!
i’ve visited dozens of cities in the south in the past couple of months, and as a rider and driver, none of them were more f***ed up than mobile. it wasn’t like the horrible potholes of jackson, it was the strange access roads next to major roads where people merge on and off at 40+ mph, seemingly coming out of nowhere. everything seemed to be a u-turn and in certain parts of town one has to get through four lanes in 20 yards to make a left. otherwise, it’s another u-turn in another quarter mile after passing a few intersections with “no left turn” signs. i would not want to be a motorcycle rider in mobile.
also, the “best car wash in town” (as their plaque stated inside) was the s**ttiest car wash i ever paid 25 bucks for. i had to go back and make ’em do it right and it still wasn’t. seriously. vacuum out the ashtray, f***tard.
regardless of my whining about driving 5,000 miles without a car wash, mike rides a wicked yamaha warrior he’s done a ton of work on. besides the fat *** tire – which we discussed the pros and cons of – he’s done a ton of wiring, giving it custom bars, grips, pegs, seat, and a nice exhaust with a power commander fuel injection system. i recommended that he get a custom fuel map instead of the factory one made for his new exhaust as he’ll gain even more power. we talked about the motorcycle scene in mobile as the empty pints piled up.
his exhaust note sounded good, not sharp or annoying, and as i took the next pic this morning on our way out of mobile for pensacola, i smiled, reached into the back seat, pulled a cold turbodog out of the ice chest, opened it and raised it with thanks to one more friend and another good time in a weird old south city.
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