WreckLess's Annual Route 66 Ride

 

  The WreckLess Chicago crew came through, all the way, on Sunday. They had over fifty bikes present for this rockin party on wheels. WreckLess Chicago calls themselves a social club not an M/C. These urban misfits just wanna ride, raise some hell and talk dirty to your mother while sippin on a whiskey cocktail she most likely bought them.

The club was founded right here in Chicago in 2012 at an alleged old school mob joint from back in the day called, Richard's Bar, it's near the corner of  W Grand Ave and  N Milwaukee.  I'm not sure the club has a designated president however, if there were a leader of this crew it would probably be the tattoo sportin Joel Rabb whose chin looks like it was carved from the trunk of an oak tree and wit that's as sharp as a razor.

 

 

 

 He respectfully addressed everyone during the riders meeting Sunday morning outside of  the 24hr Hollywood Grill, engineering into the minds of all that were listening how we would control our position on the highways of Chicago like a brigade of troops heading out to battle.

The ride began after breakfast, kickstands were up at 10:30, fathers locked their daughters away a half hour early cause they heard we were coming. Too late of course, there will always be collateral damage when you're part of this club of bad boys. These boys are stewed, screwed and tattooed. Before they knew it we would be jumping on the expressway for just a short while till we joined Route 66 and swung into Wilmington, IL to fill up on that ethanol tainted fossil fuel and do a little shit talkin.

It wasn't too far down on 66 that our appetites got the best of us, we were so hungry we could've ate the ass end out of a dead rhino. We settled on Polk-A-Dots drive in of  Braidwood, IL for burgers and fries instead. At this point  I personally had a chance to talk with a couple of the members of the club. Timm Spinn , Evo, Mike and few more.

 These cats as expected, are no nonsense, but proved to be the salt of the earth when my brother broke down earlier in the day and a couple of club members instantly stopped to help get him back on the road. No man left behind. Turns out it was a clogged up fuel line. Somehow a dirty condom made its way in the tank from a couple weekends ago. What the hell can ya do, we all make mistakes.

 We pulled into Pontiac, IL late in the afternoon, this was our final destination. Parents covered there children's eyes as we pulled into town. The cops were out of sight, probably because they knew they were out numbered and out gunned. It seemed appropriate for some to investigate the Route 66 Association Hall of Fame & Museum. I however, was a heel and remembered that bottle of hooch that was safely placed into the saddle bag of Randy's murdered out Electra Glide.

 A couple of parking lot cocktails later we were feeling right at home. Todd, Randy and I walked around the corner to find a score of the WreckLess boys in the nearest watering hole. Don't ask me the name, but this place was a cash only kinda joint. Best part is the ATM was busted. I kicked it a few times like it was the neighbors dog shittin on my lawn, but to no prevail. I had zero cash left after the previous rounds of beers and shots. 

We said our goodbyes and all headed out on highway 55 back to the city where we belong. It was a nice ride to wrap up the year. Not to worry, this won't be the last this town sees of  WreckLess
Chicago.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Click---> WreckLess Chicago

Plan For The Worst, Hope For The Best

Well, it's nearing the end of the riding season this year for us here in Chicago. I don't want to believe it, but it is. The good news is for us Midwesterners, we can catch up on all those loose ends we've been putting off on our bikes or make some head way with an on going project lurking in the garage till the time comes that we resurrect them from the dead.

However, this weekend there will be a poker run of sorts, put on by a local club. The ride will be starting early as shit (09:00) on the northwest side of town and heading down to Pontiac, IL via good ole Route 66. I like these group rides and being that it could be the last one for the year, (hope not) I wanna make it count.

 The King of Hearts finally was completed this past June. Since it's completion I've had really only one break down. It was the first ride I took after the customary shake down run, then I felt it was ready for the highway. Nope, I must have forgotten to put lock tight on those damn generator bolts. Fucker just about fell off on HWY 94 heading up to Kenosha, Wisconsin. I looked down on the bike for a systems check as I was whippin past a semi truck and playing slalom with the suburban mini vans, and then I said. "That isn't suppose to be like that." The generator was bouncing around the saddle of the engine case like a kid in Toys R Us. I'm outta of the game and benched on the side of the road for the first time in a long time. After I'm done wiping my tears away, I finally get back on the road but this time in the bed of a pickup truck. I'm reflecting on this moment because if there's anything you can count on, it's when an event is coming up and you want to attend it, your scooter might take the opportunity to test your patience. We're not gonna let that happen.

The weather this weekend is suppose to be in the 60's and just beautiful out. So I have been going over the sled with a fine tooth comb, making sure shit doesn't rear it's ugly head.  I began with adjusting the valves, fixed that annoying exhaust gasket leak, tranny oil change and lastly I replaced a smashed up floorboard from a fixed gear bike I had to smoke last weekend. She's good to go.

I will be posting some pics from this weekends run, so check back you exhaust suckin freaks.