a-duck-adventuring

[a-duck-adventuring]

One thing we are grateful for is every person that allows us to showcase their builds, shops, events, and talents on chopcult.com. Tap that lovely link in our bio to check out Tortuga, built by Chris Edwards (@thetinman1393). Article and photos by Josh Hawks (@thisrandom_photo). #chopcult #33member #chopcultfamily #hd #harleydavidson #sportster #chopper #builtnotbought #chopcultfeatures #chopcultcontributor #happythanksgiving https://www.instagram.com/p/ClWhp5_vvo7/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[a-duck-adventuring]

My creative adventures with the chillbillys allowed me to try some new things, take part in making some neat merch, and create a nice little article about the previous post. Here are some of my contributions... looks like that art degree I didn’t finish did pay off a little bit. I was also able to shoot at a little photoshoot we as a group put together, little did I know that photoshoot would be the beginning of the downfall of this group that I had spent such brief amounts of time with. Whatever the situation is within the group, one thing I can say about my time with the Chillbillys is that I was shown how much I need a creative outlet and fulfilled I feel when I can create art that’s worth seeing.

(More to come about the event we hosted in a field, which became a chopper mudbog)

[a-duck-adventuring]

Chillbillys beach bash, summer of 2020

During a global pandemic, I signed on to take a bike trip to dirty myrtle beach, SC with about 10-15 people that I didn’t hardly know (besides my brother, my acquaintance clay, and my friend Matt.) I ended up gaining some extremely close friends,something I haven’t had since highschool, and making some more temporary friends too. I also got the chance to join the group for a short while, my stint didn’t last as long as the pandemic... and while with the group I helped contribute to some neat t-shirt designs, which was a cool way to push me creatively.

Getting into the trip itself- it was extremely fun. I have now done some interesting shit with bikes, but nothing quite as interesting as this trip. Mickey, Matt, and myself left for the meeting spot at 9:30am so we met up with the chopper portion of the group nearly on time, and then we all rode like hell after some lengthy gas stops to the back side of salisbury where we met up with the dyna portion of the group for lunch at this sweet little Mexican restaurant. We had our lunch at high noon (this is always referred to as high noon though it can be anytime between 10 and 2) and got back on the road, only to be greeted with pissing and pouring rain. We arrived at the beach to our humble little beach houses which we had rented for the week, soaked and tired at around 9:30pm. (It took us 12 hours to make a four hour journey, dont ask me)

The week worth of days flew by as most times I’ve spent in Myrtle do. It was filled with the regular tourist shit, like eating dinner and drinking in murrells inlet, going to the boardwalk, drinking on the pier, and cruising up and down the strip. The interesting parts, however, involved the most feminine fist fight between men, and the most masculine fist fight between women I’ve ever seen... in house B, which Mickey and I were in with two of the couples that attended the trip. That was a whole fiasco that I’ll tell you in person if you ever see me. And the other big event occurred our last night in town, when we stopped at a bar called suck bang blow, which is known to be a hangout of the local hells angels... who happened to be attending an event there that night. We had been there long enough for everyone to have one beer when one of the club dudes walked up and bitch-slapped my buddy clay, who happens to be a big teddy bear, so at the cost of our pride we dipped out and ran back for cover, so as not to be stabbed in a bar fight. We hid the choppers and crashed for the night, early as hell the next morning we all loaded up and got on the road, stopping for gas and food and hitting the road to get home before the impending rain storm which was due to hit us all close to home.

The trip home somehow took just as long, and including my first trip on a toll road, and dropping our homie Jess off at the bar in Charlotte. From there we said our goodbyes and the winston boys split and got on 85 and came home as fast as we could. We somehow missed all but a little rain, the rest of the group, heading to Virginia, elkin, and tennessee weren’t as lucky. They barely made it home and were flooded when they arrived.

This narrow escape concluded my trip with what, for the next 6-8 months I’d call my family. I shot this trip with my camera and sent it to Gorgeous George and of course got it printed in smut butt magazine. That was a nice little bonus, and actually since they knew why I was doing it, presented me with a little trophy for the trip. It’s called the fuckin award, because sometimes you just deserve a fuckin award for doing cool shit, or at least that’s what crabman said. 🤷🏻‍♂️

(I’ll go more in depth with my adventures spent during my stay with the chillbillys later.)

[a-duck-adventuring]

Twin Rivers Chopper Campout 3, 2019:

By far the best, wildest, and wettest year ever. My crowd and myself had a hell of a time.

We rolled in Thursday night when few were there and partied hard, each night getting more wild. I will say, I partied less hard each night! but I had fun, Sunnie had fun, my brother and his friends had fun, so it was good.

Friday Zak led a bunch of us on a little ride into Sparta for a beer and a snack run.

Saturday Jody from SRM PAINTWERKS led us out for our collaboration, the TRCC skatejam at the park in Sparta.

Saturday night concluded with the raffle and then more petting around the bonfire.

Sunday was really the end of the party and you could tell by everyone’s slow, sleepy moves to pack up and head to real life once again.

A HUGE note about this, the film I shot at this event was used by my friend Gorgeous George in his ‘zine “Smut Butt Magazine”. I am going to post the box links to my photos in here but also a link to the smut butt big cartel for anyone that wants a copy.

[a-duck-adventuring]

Georgia Grundle Run 3, 2019:

Three years coming, I finally made it down to the GGR. I was so fortunate to travel down with my friends. Scott, Zak, Greg, Derek, (shiela and Sunnie too, even though they were in the car).

The event was crazy! There were fights, there was rad riding, a bike show, a raffle and fucking wrestling (which if you ask anyone gorgeous George fucking was the champion of).

So much happened over the weekend down there, making friends and capturing the lifestyle was the big ones but also, Sunnie and I got tattoos in a camper from Greg DeHoot! My photos speak for themselves, and really capture the event I believe. So much happened that if you haven’t been, you wouldn’t understand. I don’t have the time to talk about all of it here. Just know, there ain’t no party like a Georgia party!

Also I shot these photos for my friend Ella’s blog. I’ll find the link and post that here too:

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These are some of the photos I shot at the congregation in 2019.

https://www.dropbox.com/sh/fsdnax84k7ryvi0/AABNg7iWInnNhKxFlpZrr4B9a?dl=0

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The congregation, vintage motorcycle show, 2019:

Last years show was phenomenal, I got to see even more bikes, the event was way more packed. I got to see my friends, hang out with the homies I don’t get to see often and it was a great day. This show was a big one for many people, prism did their first give away bike, Cory blizzard got his first show bike in this show. And for myself this is the first event I got to shoot with my camera. My little Nikon has served me well so far and most of my future posts will come from the camera.

It was a good time for sure.

[a-duck-adventuring]

Chopper Friends:

A short one also, but I can’t speak enough about the friends that I make on two wheels!

Having friends as far away as from Georgia, and Florida, and Tennessee, and even as close as Greensboro and Mayberry is such an amazing thing. I don’t try to document things like this because meh, it’s just a day of riding with your friends, but I feel like it should be documented because these days give you, or me at least, a feeling that gets you through the week days, gets you through the rainy days. It gives you feelings that let you escape some of the bad times. It’s a great thing and I hope I never take it for granted.

Side note: riding in the mountains with dudes that don’t have these mountains behind them, reminds me how lucky I am to be riding twisties at any point in the day!

[a-duck-adventuring]

The Congregation vintage motorcycle show, 2018:

The congregation once again has become the greatest show on the east coast, hands down.

I don’t have much to say about this one, mostly because I can’t remember much about it. What I do recall is this is the year I actually made it down there on my bike. I was suffering from sinus issues and the wind hitting me going down didn’t help anything. By the time we got home I was so hoarse I should’ve been in a pasture.

I remember this was a weird show for me because I didn’t exactly know too many people then, but I was able to meet up with some of my friends at this one. I remember asking Greg if he could do my first tattoo here, which was super rad that he said yes. It’s nuts to remember that this show did end up creating some of my best friends!

I also got to see some of the coolest bikes at this show, and I think started to shape my view on what a “cool” bike actually is in my opinion.

[a-duck-adventuring]

Daytona Bike Week 2018

Florida sucks, riding to Florida in March sucks so much more.

Leaving North Carolina with Zak in 30 degree temps to race to Savannah Georgia to meet the rest of the crew by nightfall was bitter. The road was long but the camping was good once my ass finally returned from its extremely numb state.

The next day we met all of our new friends in the day light and conversed over McDonald’s breakfast before hitting the road to start the last leg of our trip.

As we blew into the boogie east show, this marked our goal achieved and the trek south concluded. We enjoyed ourselves and then hurried to get to our new home before nightfall.

Cackleberry campground is an interesting place to say the least, it’s housed right across from the cabbage patch and is the prime destination for the thousands of dads and dad bikes that frequent Daytona each year. What I had observed is this seems to be their once’s a year go wild no kids “badass biker weekend”.

We chopper dudes partied hard all weekend, drank too much, caused mild chaos and ate greasy fail food until we blew up our local porta-potty’s. We even managed to play chopper games in an empty field in the campground, and thusly drew in a hell of a crowd of old timers reliving their memories of old times.

Meeting these new chopper people on this journey solidified some brand new damn family members that I never thought I’d be able to call my family. I’d like to thank zak eternially for letting me tag along.

Sunday morning 9:30 zak sheila and I headed out for home. 10 gas stops, one loss of the only brake pressure zak had, and an extra hour worth of total detours, and 13.5 hours later I was pulling into my driveway, concluding my longest chopper trip yet.

[a-duck-adventuring]

September 22-23, 2018: Twin Rivers Chopper Campout-

Much like the previous year, I tried to push myself with this trip since the event is held in our own back yard. I decided, knowing how dangerous the road in can be and how much worse it would be at night, to make this my first trip carrying a passenger, my girlfriend (illegally I might add). To add to that I had to navigate as my brother was behind me. So I sat out the directions on painters tape on my tank. Unfortunately due to our new adult jobs, it was sunset by the time we left. So, we arrived on the back side of Sparta in the woods in pitch black night fall. The tape did me no good, so I instructed Sunnie to navigate via her phone while I drove and tried not to kill us on some gnarly mountain roads.

Upon arrival though, we made our home for the weekend, a hilarious story of me both putting up my tent and helping my brother hang his hammock because he never did a trial run, or for that matter has ever done any hammock camping. Soon after, we decided to grab a drink grab some grub and find our friends! Making our rounds to say hello and catch up on the journeys past was more than uplifting, knowing my friends in fact hadn’t forgotten me.

I didn’t get to ride much in 2018 due to work and other interests. However, my new family didn’t forget me and opened me back with welcome arms.

Saturday I rode it to the store and stocked us up on some beer and proceeded to get buzzed and walk around and make new friends, including Wes slayton of the chop n’ roll podcast and custom destruction helmet restoration, as well as none other than the famous Gorgeous George. George and I talked for thirty minutes just about skateboarding and how cool it was to find a desperate community of people just like the old rats we grew up with.

Saturday night included me winning a sweet long bros. T shirt package in the raffle, and getting to listen to the worst sounding Biggins set in the history of the universe( thouguhit didn’t bother me, I still had fun. But for the sake of integrity we won’t mention that any more.)

Sunday morning we packed up semi early, said goodbyes to our furthest homies who left earlier than us, and then our closest homies knowing we would see them again soon, we loaded up and raced back home to beat the rain.

All in all a perfect weekend at the TRCC.

[a-duck-adventuring]

WAR RUN 2 (Sometime in October of 2017) :

Dudes from all across the country, from places like Massachusetts, Wisconsin, Florida, Georgia, and yes, even us from Mayberry made the trek down to Wilmington for the event which boasted “the worlds biggest mini bike race”.

War run is an event held annually by big Scott of the former podcast “riders on the norm” down in Wilmington. The run is put on to get friends together, raise some hell, and have loads of fun. However, there is a bigger reason this is done. All profits from the raffles and so on go to a charity or someone in need. (This most recent year the funds went to help those in need after a hurricane ripped up the east coast.)

War run is comprised of the run, of course, which is usually around the Wilmington area, and makes a stop along the way to entertain riders with historical battle sites before returning back to the compound. Once back to Big Scott’s HQ the festivities begin. Live music, raffles, food, and occasionally the worlds biggest mini bike race rage on into the late night hours.

I missed out this year, however WAR RUN2 is the story of my first experience with these dudes. My brother and I arranged to ride down with the companionship of my pal zak, since I knew he was going and would know everyone there. What was a nice surprise for me was that just out of our stomping grounds in Lexington, after riding like three bats from the gates of hell, in what could only be described as the worst rain suits ever, through a monsoon, we stopped to grab a bite of some pretty damn decent bbq and met up with the long brothers.

This was my brother and my first encounter with the brothers of long, however it wouldn’t be our last. These guys are true heroes to us and probably the most down to earth guys ever, which made the journey to the coast with them that much more special.

In fact, riding down there in the rain was the worst part of our trip to the coast. Everyone we met was so pleasant. Everywhere we went was so scenic. And man was it the coolest weekend ever... well, no. Not for us.

We had made previous promises to our friends here that we would come back in time for their chicken stew Saturday night.

So unfortunately our time with the war run was limited to riding down there with our friends, eating pigs and getting shit-faced in a field with a bunch of choppers, camping, and riding about half of the ride the next day. There isn’t enough time to sum up how amazing that 24 hours was though. It makes me crave going back to the beach and seeing my friends again like I never have before.

To quickly sum up our trip back, my brother and I filled up at a gas station where I plugged in our address in my gps on my phone, and trying to avoid major highways... Switched off that feature of our navigation. Setting out for Home quickly proved to be hell as we were set on a course to take ALL backroads and side roads the entire way back, leaving me to nearly run out of gas once, find a hatred for the roads in Fayetteville, and have us rolling into Greensboro at sunset. Once we arrived in kernersville and knew we could handle the highways, we raced home in time for our chicken stew and beers. Finished out the weekend in surry county and called it a success.

All in all it was a great weekend and it pushed us to do more of that type of riding anywhere we go. Even though our schedules have shifted a lot since then, this year we are planning to make every weekend like that one. Fun.

[a-duck-adventuring]

Family Motorcycle/Beach Trip. Manteo, NC (Aug. 24, 2017) :

Family has always been something which surrounded me and yet disinterested me at the same time... That is, until I got my step family. My step dad brought along with him 5 extra kids, and the one closest to me in age, is my brother Mckinnley. We instantly became thick as thieves, beyond bestfriends, and truely sometimes closer than his own actual siblings. We have always shared interests and hobbies, from skateboarding to cars, and obviously bikes.

When our parents told us they would begoing to ride motorcycles to the coast, for a club event (step dad is in motorcycle club, they hold national events as vacations for everyone) we knew this was a trip we had to tag along for. We paid our share of the room and open bar fee, and we got our shit together and early as fuck on August 24th we set off for the coast. Just our parents and us and the open road was all we knew for about 400 miles.

About this time I think I should tell you, these “bikers” are the bagger riding, weekend warrior, nickleback listening type of douches that Harley-Davidson and budlight market to. While we have no interest in that, my brother and I will not pass up a trip, nor the chance to show half of the dudes who trailered their bikes everywhere how motorcycles are supposed to be ridden. So most of the drama through our four days would be localized around assholes thinking their studded jeans made them hot shit. I will leave all of that out and summarize the trip in itself.

We rode forever in quite high winds, this tends to have an extra tough effect on bikes, especially mine. So we made the best time we could, and stopped for gas every 80 miles, as I have a 2 gallon tank( chopper problems).

One of my biggest fears is heights and so I am not a fan of bridges. If you know anything about the outer banks of North Carolina, you know they are a group of islands, and in order to get there you must cross a series of rather high bridges. (This didn’t dawn on me until we crossed the first one... 🤦🏻‍♂️)

We finally arrived, got situated, and met the rest of the group for a sunset boat cruise. The first night was mellow. The second night we did all of our partying, meaning my parents got drunk and stayed drunk from 5pm until 12am. My brother got drunk at 5pm and threw up by 9pm, and was in bed sick by 10:30pm. I managed to hold out and kept drinking like a goddamn champion until 2am. I finally went to bed. The following day greeted everyone fine, except me. Rays of sunshine brought a splitting headache, which was nothing a cup of coffee and doughnuts couldn’t cure. We then dressed and crossed yet another fucking bridge, to go see a neat ass light house and get ourselves a little beach time.

The rest of that evening was drinking and turning in early.

The last day we had we spent riding up and down the island taking in all the smells, sights and things we weren’t sure we would ever get to see again. Another early night followed because the next day would be a full day of riding back home.

Sunday morning we packed up, loaded up, ate breakfast, got gas and said our goodbyes, and promptly headed across the god forsaken bridges back to the mountains from which we came. 8 hours later we were home and unpacking, reminiscing on what might be the coolest and shortest lived family vacation we’ve ever had (and the first family vacation the four of us have taken together... ever).

[a-duck-adventuring]

Twin Rivers Chopper Campout (Aug. 18-19, 2017):

You ever have something so perfectly planned out in your head that you just know there is no way the actual event could unfold any differently in real life?

Well this, isn’t that. Though I had seen Twin rivers flyers on chopcult and various other instagrams months before. It wasn’t until I saw Zak Gibbons’ bike at a local watering hole, got linked up with him on insta, and found out he was the one hosting this shindig that I knew, if I was going to make cool chopper friends that I had damn well better be going to this event.

I didn’t know anybody going personally, I had never been to the campground, and I sure as hell had never done any camping off the back of my motorcycle. So, in order to ensure I went, I made myself buy a T-shirt so I had an excuse to go.

Looking at my bike in the first picture would clearly tell you I had no concept of what I was getting into. This was the first event I’d been to by myself at this point, and boy was it a great one to be a part of. I thought once I got my tent set up and got my junk unpacked, I’d sit there and friends would come to me, and In a way I wasn’t wrong. Dyna-Sean was the first to approach me, welcoming me to the event and the scene officially. I told him how this was my first event of this type, my history of motorcycling and the likes so far. He introduced me to his wife, zak, Danny, and the rest of the raggedy bunch of people I now gladly call my friends, and they all seemed impressed that I had began this journey alone.

Over the weekend, I started becoming closer with them and even made a few new friends on my own. The music was good, the food truck grub did its job, and the company was top notch.

I left a little early to come back and spend the time Sunday with my family, not even realizing that I just started a whole new branch of family up in the woods, with something as simple as a motorcycle and a tent. Though I didn’t take many pictures there, the memories of my first campout will forever be the fondest memories I have. I eternally seek the simplistic fun and enjoyment I got out of that weekend, everytime I plan on hopping on that bike, or rolling up that tent. Nothing is better than getting out in nature with good friends and your death trap!

[a-duck-adventuring]

My first chopper event (may 27, 2017):

The congregation: a motorcycle show staged inside of an old bomb factory on the outskirts of charlotte, NC. This event is put on by the prettiest and most prestigious builders in north cacky, Prism Supply co. The first congregation was the first even my brother and I went to, officially, and it by far was the coolest show we could’ve picked. As two young dreamers, it filled us with hope. It was great for us to see what could come out of our state, as well as what people barely older than us can achieve with enough skills, tools, free time, and of course money.

Being a dreamer is great, but what is even better is being able to set goals and achieve them. And our goal after that first year was to not miss out on the cool chopper lifestyle we were just dipping our toes in. That is still my goal and it is slowly being reached. This is a community that I feel like I do belong to, and one day will be able to make my mark in, as much as any of these other dudes.

This past year held the second congregation and unlike the first year I actually rode down to the show ( I will make a separate post about that one later.) With the third annual congregation fast approaching, my brother and I, my girlfriend, and all of our friends are planning on making the journey to our home state chopper show, as this show is quickly becoming a rival to the west coast’s own born free. ( fun fact: the prism boys actually built that nice sea foam green bike above for that show... personally I think it looks better out here).

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Disclaimer: I will probably add a backlog of photos for a while, and tell a little about them.

But a quick intro :

My name is Josh and this is a blog I’m dedicating to my adventures, because as I have seen, you cannot keep every picture on your phone. So I’d like to make this space to share pictures I’ve taken, and the memories attached. Once I post them here I will likely delete the photos forever (except the really special ones).

The beginning (or 3/24/17ish):

This first post is the biggest and coolest adventure I’ve went on to date, and one you will see a lot of, which is buying a motorcycle. ( technically it isn’t my first motorcycle, just the first one that runs, is legal, and is on my credit 😬) This was a big deal for me because it does symbolize a certain freedom and a huge stage of growth for me, to actually take the initiative to go on adventures and make myself uncomfortable.

When I first got the bike, I did lots of getting used to riding around locally, however it did not take me long to start traveling and going places I likely wouldn’t have thought twice about in a car, which is the whole idea.

The purchase came after a break-up. Some would say it was an impulse thing, or maybe that I was trying to change myself or something crazy like that, but I have always been into old bikes and stuff that follows, I believe that it was just an oppertunity in my life where I could make the change to make me a happier person and hopefully a better person.

While many more of these posts which will follow will revolve around riding and taking trips, and the like, I will also try to highlight why these events were important separate from being cool and riding motorcycles.

If you have read through this far, thanks and hopefully you’ll stick around.

-JH