Scott Brady
Founder
I have mentioned my affection for the Triumph Scrambler, and a little more research led to the Jack Pine, the ultimate retro dirt and destruction machine from Hammarhead in PA.
Overland Journal is working on a comprehensive review and adventure this summer with the Jack Pine into the PNW. Chris Collard will be the rider and writer, tossing his decades of moto travel in Baja into a TKC eating foray on a full-size twin.
Fortunately, the bike needed to be delivered from LA to San Francisco - I was happy to oblige.
Leaving Sherman Oaks, I hoped on the 101 and burned some fuel attempting to get ahead of the storm that is quickly engulfing the coast.
I stopped in Ventura for the first beach shot
Further up the coast this morning, the sun poped out for a moment - I took the opportunity to snap a picture and then put on my new Triple Aught shell. The Barbour motorcycle jacket was doing nothing to repel the rain.
The rain has continued for most of the morning. My pants and boots are still soaked.
The weather broke for another moment right next to an old mission. A gift from the heavens or a warning to stop dragging the pedals. . .
I am currently in the sprawling metropolis of Gonzales eating a tamale and cant help looking out the window at the angry black machine staring back at me. Gotta go, I have 170 miles to finish off these TKCs
Overland Journal is working on a comprehensive review and adventure this summer with the Jack Pine into the PNW. Chris Collard will be the rider and writer, tossing his decades of moto travel in Baja into a TKC eating foray on a full-size twin.
Fortunately, the bike needed to be delivered from LA to San Francisco - I was happy to oblige.
Leaving Sherman Oaks, I hoped on the 101 and burned some fuel attempting to get ahead of the storm that is quickly engulfing the coast.
I stopped in Ventura for the first beach shot
Further up the coast this morning, the sun poped out for a moment - I took the opportunity to snap a picture and then put on my new Triple Aught shell. The Barbour motorcycle jacket was doing nothing to repel the rain.
The rain has continued for most of the morning. My pants and boots are still soaked.
The weather broke for another moment right next to an old mission. A gift from the heavens or a warning to stop dragging the pedals. . .
I am currently in the sprawling metropolis of Gonzales eating a tamale and cant help looking out the window at the angry black machine staring back at me. Gotta go, I have 170 miles to finish off these TKCs