Father's Day Trip Vlog 2016 - PART ONE

Since I was 17, my dad and I have been taking cross country trips on our motorcycles together. This year, I took off 3 weeks from school and my dad took 3 weeks off from work and we road tripped in celebration of Father's Day. 

My dad had spent his weekends off for the past several months rebuilding a 1997 Ultra Classic for me to ride on this trip. When I arrived back home, we still had quite a bit of work to do. Seen in the clips, we take over his space in the shop and bring the bike to life. This trip was essentially the test ride. 

Part one of this video includes us from Florida - Memphis, TN - Rodneys Cycle House in Little Rock, AR - Mojave Desert in CA.

Stay tuned for more parts of this trip to come in the following weeks! Hope you all enjoy.

Watch PART TWO here! 

Morikami Gardens

December 26, 2015

The past Christmas break, my oldest brother had been able to come visit us in Florida. Both he and I have a vested interest in Japan and it's culture and aesthetic. Since he left his koi behind at home, I thought it would be a great chance to check out the Morikami Gardens and Museum in Del Ray. After a three hour drive, it did not disappoint.

We made it in time to join the guided tour, but with the drive we all decided to pop into the restaurant that was conveniently located inside the gardens. The menu consisted of various sushi rolls, bento boxes, and noodle bowls among other dishes. It was quite packed the day after Christmas, but it seems as though it's a hot spot regularly as their staff delivered quick and wonderful service.

Although we passed on the guided tour, Morikami offers a self-guided tour through a website on your phone. It walks you through each section of the park as you pass through, sharing history and significant details. Many people even seemed to opt for a relaxing stroll through the gardens without the tour. 

Bridges, gardens, architecture, bamboo, zen gardens, waterfalls, koi fish, and a bird that was reluctant to leave our sides- I'd say Morikami Gardens went well beyond our expectations. The event calendar on the website shows that the place is frequented by workshops, festivals, and other interesting events that would be sure to add to the beauty that is Morikami. 

If you ever get the chance to visit, it is well worth the while. Hope our pictures do it justice!

Photos by Isacc Yi & myself

Cassadaga Before Dawn

December 22, 2015

At 4:45am Isacc and I forced ourselves out of bed and onto our motorcycles in order to race the sun out to Cassadaga. If you haven't heard of Cassadaga, Florida, it is the spiritual capitol of the world- a camp filled with mediums, spiritual healers, and the like. We made it to the camp as the sun was just peeking over the horizon, scattering pink and orange hues into the sky. Eating our pre-packed peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for breakfast while straddling our bikes, we discussed our game plan. 

We had been to Cassadaga once before, when our friend Kate from Australia had came to visit. During that time, the camp was fully functioning and we visited a workshop by a third generation medium who taught us about "Skotography", where a photo would open communication with spirits. After, he had us wave an index card over a candle and make out images and try to guess what the spirits were trying to communicate to us. A very interesting experience to say the least, but this trip was made with a different intention.

By this hour, nobody was out on the streets except a little old lady who exuberantly welcomed us to Cassadaga and wished us a Merry Christmas. Besides that encounter, being in the town led to a little shudder as we walked the ominous streets. The houses are all 19th century style Southern homes, with paint chipped off and overgrowth climbing the walls. Now, I'm not superstitious, but I will note that black cats seemed to pop up at most door steps. It seemed to fit the stereotype of what you'd expect at a town like this, so I took a little fancy to the fact.

Among the many little parks scattered in the town, we walked the trails of one to which our surprise led us to orange groves, still alive in the winter. The groves were reminiscent of the citrus that had sprouted when George Colby founded the camp in 1895. Further along the trail, a wide, silver lake spread over the horizon where birds were awakening and sharing the songs of the morning. 

After taking advantage of the beautiful photo ops that the town provided, I scoured Yelp to find us a good cup of coffee. Because hey, it was still morning time and it's us you're talking about.. 16 minutes away, we found Trilogy Coffee Co. Nestled in an old-two story home that seemed to match the aforementioned homes of Cassadaga, Trilogy as well as a juice bar and an art gallery all functioned harmoniously together. We talked roasting, fair-trade, single-origin coffee, and espresso. Isacc tried the Ethiopian Halo Bariti Natural pour-over which to my surprise tasted like a juicy tea - boasting of blueberries and milk chocolate. I tried the Kenya AA-Tambaya pour-over, which had notes of pink gratefruit, blackberrys and a hint of lime. After a long sipping of our coffees and talks of new years resolutions, it was then time to bid adieu to the house and fellow coffee connoisseurs. 

The adventure wrapped up as we rode off in the 94 degree weather, spirits and energies high, and we still ended up at home before noon. How's that for a Tuesday morning? 

The Process Beyond the Parts

Photo by Kate Disher-Quill

As a machine, motorcycles themselves bare no ego. Motorcycles have no explicit beauty, beyond the beauty that humans impose upon them. A motorcycle is essentially a slew of parts joined together to perform or serve a function, yet people inevitably attach deeper meanings to these bundles of parts.  They sacrifice safety to join the machine and the road together, defining for themselves a sort of freedom. They devote a lifetime to countless hours, manual in hand, drawing conclusions about why their machine won’t function properly. They go as far as to create social groups dedicated to honoring and showing off their bundle of parts.

So what, fundamentally, creates all these situations in which a motorcycle takes center stage? I have found myself confronted with this question daily, as I attend a school not only dedicated to a machine, but motorcycles in particular. It is here where we deduce this machine back to its most minuscule of parts. Each person in their own right has at one point in their life developed an attachment to a machine, which led them to dig deeper. How can this conglomeration of bearings, gears, and wires create a social movement? How can it cause a desire, and a feeling of escape from the monotony of life? 

Read on at In Venus Veritas -->

The Spark, Jes Lassen

I am a beating heart mended by great men and women. I am the spirit of a long line of freedom fighters, hard workers, and dream chasers. I am the culmination of years of lives, including this man right here. My great grandfather, Jes Lassen has sparked a heritage in my family that I will fight to live on far after I'm gone.

The photo above marked the day that Jes dug his feet into American soil. His father fled Denmark with Jes in hand, escaping what would have been a tragic fate in war. After emigrating from Denmark to the United States, he ended up in the small town of Kansas called Atchison. A town where if you blink- you miss it. 

In America, Jes exercised his freedoms with all that he had. Jes was known as “the man you don’t mess with”. He scooted around on an old Army Harley, and had gun and knives always slung around his hips. He even traveled the nation as a Wall of Death stunt rider.

And later on in life, he met my great grandmother, Mary. She was as sweet as could be, and sucked the hell raising soul right out of him. They raised six kids on a farm together. And the story lives on through who the Lassen’s are today. 

This legacy is the one I hold dear to. I've found out that in life, your legacy is established not by you, but how others will remember you. His story shows the spirit that has passed down through my grandpa, my dad, and onto me. Freedom, risk, adventure, hard work, and love. This is tradition.

Thank you, Jes, for giving my family the heart to be free, and sometimes wild and crazy. Thank you for starting a legacy of motorcycling that would last longer than imagined, and create purpose in those that came after you. 
 

My family members are my heroes. I am who I am because I come from them. And I could never ask for anything better.

SunPassin' through Florida

It's been a while since I made a video (had some technical difficulties after the Yosemite Mac update). But I've finally got things smoothed out and ready to tackle more videos for your viewing pleasure! Biltwell recently sent me a Gringo S helmet, and so I went out and got a helmet mount for my GoPro and gave them a whirl. 

I took my handy SunPass through the highway from Central to South Florida. So, while this may not be the most exciting of footage and landscapes.. I still hope you enjoy watching!

See what life is like behind bars (the good kind) and take a ride with me!

We Are the Earharts

As we ascended into the air, helicopter blades creating a rhythmic murmur above my head, I held my breath and inched slowly to the edge of my seat to look below. I was maybe 7 or 8 visiting my grandfather in Atchinson, Kansas (a town where if you blink, you'll miss the turn). He had called up a buddy of his who owned an old helicopter in request of a favor. My grandfather had made his mission that day to inform me about everything he could of a pioneer and pilot that had graced the little town decades ago.

Earlier that day, we had spent hours touring the house they were birthed in, my eyes wide and head overwhelmed with the facts of a child that had once skipped along the path where my feet were planted. Images of a kid no older than I had swirled to life, folding up pieces of papers into planes and soaring them out the windows of the two-story white house that the grandparents had owned.

The thrill that came soon after entailed us lifting off into the air inside of an old helicopter and being able to look down to see this pilot's face spanning an entire hillside. 

Read on at In Venus Veritas -->

Lessons I've Learned From A Father Who Loves Motorcycles

PHOTO BY ISACC YI

Motorcycles have been the vehicle that has brought my father and I closer than I had ever thought to have been. Growing up I didn't get to see him much, my brother went to live with him, and I with my mother. I had such angst when I would see my father and it was always an inevitable event when we would lock horns. Both of our stubborn attitudes would collide leaving nothing but little pieces of our dysfunctional family scattered all over the United States. He was a military man, and my mother would try her best to keep us close enough to keep a relationship thriving. It was a pivotal moment when my father paid for my motorcycle safety course and offered me a motorcycle when I was 17 to join him on a trek from the panhandle of Florida all the way up to South Dakota and it's neighboring states. I took the course, and the next weekend we began on our trip. Since then, our relationship has not only thrived but has blossomed into what I could have only wished for as a little wrecked girl.

It's taken many times falling over on the bike, him rushing over to pick it up off of me, many times calling for expert advice on how to fix my newly acquired bikes, and even times spent in the hospital, where he would tend to my every need so very selflessly.

But now I have this crazy, and some may say I'm stupid for, passion for motorcycles and what they mean to me. They've brought an idol and father into my life, and some of the most amazing and what seem to be unreal experiences as well.

I wanted to share a few of the many life lessons I have learned from my father and our times spent together that have changed my life. While they all originate from him teaching me how to ride, they all apply to the bigger picture of him passing down lessons to his little girl. Lessons that I'm sure he wished he could have taught me earlier, but regardless, I am so thankful for them everyday now.

RETURN TO RIDE THE TAIL OF THE DRAGON - 1 YEAR AFTER WRECK

Lesson One: Always ride your own ride

My father would always remind me to "ride my own ride". I remember returning to conquer the Tail of the Dragon after crashing on the way there just the summer before. After a quick debriefing in front of the giant metal dragon at the beginning of the highway, I kept repeating that very phrase. Ride my own ride. Ride my own ride. My boyfriend had taken off in front of me. He had just gotten his license a few months before, and this had been his first real challenge in riding and he was ready as ever. I took a deep breath, and let my throttle pull me through. I rode it at my own pace, and yeah, that was quite slow. I was pissing off quite a few sportsbikes and old men wishing to regain adrenaline in the process.

I didn't care, though. The most beautiful secrets and experiences from the world whisper to you when you follow your own path. I was conquering a fear that won me over for a year, no matter how slow I was doing it. Learning this, I've been able to adapt to the phrase, sinking it into every part of my life and letting it carry me through, just as those two wheels have, in conquering my battles. I know adventure lies ahead on my path though, and I'm rolling the throttle right through and pressing forward to ride my own ride.

This is such an important lesson in life that we just seem to forget. Amidst societies standards of what women we should be, of what careers we need to pursue, and what ideas we need to form, we are all just left to travel down the highway - all facing the same pissed off people, honking horns, overheating cars - congestion. Sometimes it is just best to veer off for a while, and explore the lonely road. Most of the time that is where unforgettable moments of self-discovery occurs.

Lesson Two: When the going gets hard, go back to the basics

I bought a 1974 Honda CB750 a while back and had been working on a few problems to get it back kicking on the streets. Naturally, I would call and Facetime my dad frequently to get his wizardly advice. Seriously, he can fix anything.. Not even while being there. A wizard, I tell you. My headlight wasn't turning on when I'd start the bike up, so I figured there had been a wiring problem. After all, it is an old bike. Tracing back the wires again and again, learning wiring diagrams in depth, taking apart the bike until it looked like a little skeleton - my dad calls me back. "Kristen, go check the handlebars for a switch", my chest puffed when I found a headlight ON/OFF switch. Oh, the things you learn when you work with these antiques. Industry standard or state laws have made motorcycle manufacturers wire the headlights to remain on at all times nowadays, which meant no longer needing a switch to turn them off. Obviously this happened after 1974.. While I had to solder on some wires in the meantime for the ignition switch, I still had done WAY too much work for something so.. so simple.

If you're anything like me, the details seem to bog you down, scenarios play in your head of a million different what ifs that seem to branch out.. take a breath. We are simple animals that have created such a complex programming for ourselves to call us human and forget that there is such a thing as basic instinct. Sometimes it takes just cutting the crap out and assessing the bare bones of problems where you will find your answer staring right at you.

Lesson Three: Stay hydrated

If you're ever around my dad, you'll know that he will tell you to drink water to cure any ailment ever. You've got a headache? Drink water. Cough coming on? Drink water. Broken bone? Drink water. It's a wonder that I've seem to have created a perversion toward drinking water. Seriously, give me a full glass of something and I'll probably be sitting on it for hours.

Going on across the country trips via motorcycle and camping calls for some serious physical aptitude. Including drinking your water. Every stop we made to fuel up on gas my dad would buy me a bottle of water and keep nagging at me to drink it all. While for the first ten minutes you feel like you're going to puke out your whole stomach, when you take off against the wind and heat on your bike - it's a blessing.

PHOTO BY PAUL VINCENT

I made what could have been a fatal mistake when we took a trip to the Tail of the Dragon, though. I didn't even make it past Deal's Gap before I passed out and went straight on a curve, causing the passing motorcycle and I to collide. It took a number of broken bones and a totaled bike to understand the true importance of evaluating my mental and physical state before getting on the road. It also has made me become a shadow of my father in telling everyone to DRINK WATER.

Now, while literally drinking water is a big life lesson in itself there's more that comes along with this one. I've learned the what can potentially-lead-to-a-fatal-breakdown sort of life lesson in the department of keeping yourself fueled. Keeping the mind, body, and soul quenched is essential in leading a life that you love, one that keeps you motivated, disciplined, and reaching for something more.

When we find ourselves beaten down from working, studying, trying to maintain relationships, sometimes it becomes something so overwhelming that we just find ourselves crashing. The soul crying out is something that needs to be tended to, not ignored. I've ignored myself many a time, and have paid the price for it when I've literally and metaphorically crashed. It's funny when you can cause yourself to become your own worst enemy. But really, when you think about it, you are all you've got. So you might as well keep yourself quenched, thriving, and striving. Drink your water.

Lesson Four: Understand the friction zone

While I thought I was all badass swinging my leg over the seat to mount my pretty little Sportster, learning to ride made me revert to looking like a complete fool. FRICTION ZONE, my dad would yell out right before I would let the clutch out, jolt forward, and topple over, trying to scramble out from under the bike before the exhaust burnt a hole through my leg. It's a weird concept to try to grasp when you've got a machine that is just roaring for the throttle to be rolled in sync with the let go of a clutch. I was 17, only having history of riding BMX bikes and four-wheelers. Regardless, I had plenty of states to roll through until I was sure to have the friction zone down pat.

But that's what it takes. It takes practice to understand these things that are unfamiliar. Understanding the synchronicity of gaining traction and pushing forward is monumental in life. There are plenty of lost opportunities that I could have accepted and moved forward leaps and bounds had I pushed myself when they was presented.

Again, it takes practice. It takes getting back up after having fallen down, being so scared to just let the throttle guide you and keep your balance. But once your on it, putting all you've got into the ride.. you're set. You're speeding down interstates into worlds you've never imagined existed. All it takes is a little trust in the concept of your friction zone. Practice.

I could go on for a while talking about all the knowledge my father has passed down in the short time we have had to flourish a relationship. But I'll end here, in hopes that you will seek out the people that you love and really listen to what they've got to say. Sometimes it takes a lot of pain to peel back the layers and find the gold underneath a person, but in the end it's so very worth it.

Thank you Dad, for all you've taught me, and I know there is so much more. You are appreciated - Kristen

Revival Rally 2014

Revival Rally '14 this weekend was just what I needed. The second annual event boasted with riders from all over Florida. Although it is December, we are still hanging on to the luxury getting on our motorcycles and riding with the sun beaming over us.

Motorcycles and scooters were lining the Milk District, and as you walked in to the back alley an exhibition of vintage bikes originating from across the world were waiting to be judged. A live band played rockabilly tunes, people sipped their beers from the local bars, and flaunted shirts that read the most sly sayings. My favorite being "PETROSEXUAL". There were food trucks and a dessert stand selling vegan cupcakes that I was lucky enough to try. Bourbon and rasberry really gets the night a goin.

The coolest part of the event was that they were doing this all for charity - K9s for Warriors. The charity provides service canines to our warriors suffering from post-traumatic stress and/or traumatic brain injury as a result of military service. Ladies dressed as pinups shuffled around endlessly to promote and raise money. A silent auction was held in the SpaceBar, with designs from local artists painted on Bell Custom 500 helmets. Then, as if all this wasn't enough already, a charity bike was built by Orlando's very own Cafe Moto Club. These guys are all garage builders who dedicated so much time and hardwork to provide a motorcycle for a winner of the raffle contest.

I was so damn ecstatic to see a woman who had just received her endorsement the week before had been chosen to give the motorcycle a home. Some things just seem to happen for a reason, huh? ;)

Hope you all enjoy the little video I put together. I hope to get out more with my GoPro in hand to capture more of my shenanigans, along with the wonderful events and beautiful people around me.

Hope you all get out there and enjoy the open air. Until next time!

LONG LIVE THE KINGS

Truly one of my favorite short films to date. It reminds me of all the adventures I've been able to have across the states. Moments and memories that I still cannot believe are real. If this doesn't get you itchin to get outside and break some rules... I feel bad for you.