I'm still watching you

Changing riding gear in anticipation of a thunderstorm. Butte, MT 2013

Just finished pissing through the chain link fence

2012 - having a frustrating day, I suited up to go out riding, a surefire way to clear my head.

Standing with my best buddy.

2005. I got my septum pierced in the '90s. Didn't like the look. Kept a retainer in for years. Once a year, I'd shove ponderosa pine needles through it and head to the Oregon Country Fair. Eventually lost the retainer and the piercing healed over.

Self portrait with a waterfall on the Trail of Ten Falls at Silver Falls State Park in Oregon, probably a decade ago.

Mounting a camera on the side of my buddy's bike so he can film me and Bill on my bike. It didn't work very well: too much vibration from his old hardtail chopper. The camera couldn't handle it.

A modeling session back in 2013.

Gazing at the setting sun, unaware of the approaching storm.

200 miles west of where I shot that load over my shoulder on the highway at 70mph.

The biker and his buddy, Frank. Don’t piss off Frank, he will cut you.

I was once told that I have a nice ass. I didn’t believe her.

I'm watching you.

By the late '90s, my best tech clients were the investment banks that capitalized on my code from earlier in the decade. Working 4 weeks each year in NYC, the quants of Wall Street sponsored every mile I rode and, indirectly, every wild night fucking eager ass as I roamed the highways & back roads.

I bought my first Harley in 1994. I worked a tech job until I had enough money to pay cash for the bike. I dropped the job and rode off. I hauled a concrete slab of a laptop computer in my saddle bag for short term contract programming jobs as I wandered. I still wear those steel toe Wesco boots.

I've modeled for photographers every few years for much of my adult life. It started with nude modeling for art classes. I never really understood why they had such interest other than the fact I'm always eager to shed my clothing.