by Ian Rygiel | Dec 19, 2014 | Ian's Blog
One of the reasons I enjoyed Rt. 66 so much was because of the spontaneity we were afforded on that stretch of road. Unlike our other stops, we had no pre-approval to film anywhere along the highway. Sure, we had a few ideas for locations, but we were truly counting on our own charm and good luck to be able to shoot anywhere. Luckily, the staff at Pop’s were gracious enough to let us record our visit. It was about noon and our first real stop of the day. We were all starved and grateful for a break from rest stop food, and the heat, as we rolled into Pop’s. If you’ve seen any of our short videos, it’s the place with the massive soda bottle out front. The metal frame buzzes loudly with the sound of electricity during the day, almost as if straining in anticipation for the moment its switch is flipped, and it can illuminate the night. There’s likely a metaphor to be found here; possibly, something about feeling boxed in and yearning to light out across the land – or maybe just some sexual innuendo. It’s been a long work week, so I’ll let you fill in the blanks. But I digress. Aside from the bottle out front, Pop’s is known for carrying a ridiculous number of sodas (pop, to our regional readers) for sale. If it’s made inside this country, or even outside, they likely have it. I’m not much of a soda drinker myself, but even I was taken by temptation to try some of the more interesting flavors and fill up a...
by Ian Rygiel | Nov 21, 2014 | Ian's Blog
As I less-than-coyly hinted at in my last post, my work life has been incredibly busy the last few weeks. Regardless, I wanted to make sure I squeezed in a post tonight. One: because I feel guilty when I shirk an obligation (I’m a proper American laborer in that way; blame it on the Puritans). Two: I feel reinvigorated whenever I get to relive the trip in my own way. Short on time or no, I’ll share a quick story from Missouri, which the crew and I still get a kick out of. We were doing a bit of camping and realized there wasn’t a whole lot of dead wood to be found around the campsite. Not having the means to cut anything substantially dead down, and being fairly close to civilization, Lauren and I headed out in search of a small town we passed a couple miles back. Rolling into a small strip mall that had seen better days, we split up. Lauren went in search for the truly important items we needed (water and beer), and I went looking for some fire wood. What I found was described to me as a cord. Now, if you’re at all familiar with cords of wood, they generally measures 4ft x 4ft x 8ft. I didn’t know that at the time and was just happy to have found some fuel to cook dinner with, so I bought two and headed back to the car. In my absence, it seems our van had become quite the topic of conversation, which Lauren managed to eavesdrop on. It went something along the lines of:...
by Ian Rygiel | Nov 14, 2014 | Ian's Blog
My apologies to both of our regular readers for missing last week’s post. In the interest of full disclosure, I did have an entry ready to go, but I would have immediately regretted posting it; I was in my cups, my Irish was up, and I was feeling frustrated with my current profession (not the one where I get to ride a motorcycle and talk to amazing people, that’s the best job in the world). The language of my original post was a bit too raw, but I’d still like to touch upon the same theme. Labor. It’s a noun, it’s a verb, it’s an adjective, and it’s the unsung, under-appreciated engine that drives our economy. So where’s the love for those who literally and figuratively put their backs into their work? The sad reality is productivity and corporate profits are at an all time high in this country, but workers’ wages continue to stagnate. The laborers reward for their hard work? More work. Longer hours. Larger demands. A smaller share. When I think of the hard workers we met, the first person to come to mind is a rancher named J.R.. He very much played the part with his wide-stance, direct speech, and exceptional mustache. J.R. was an intimidating presence, but he said some of the most insightful things I heard all trip. Through sweat and sheer force of will, J.R. made the Blue Springs Ranch in Missouri what it is today. To any outside visitor, myself included, the Ranch seems idyllic, and wildly successful, but it takes an incredible amount of work for everything to appear so...
by Ian Rygiel | Oct 24, 2014 | Ian's Blog
Nashville. The name has weight. It’s a city with a history and for many it conjures up images of blue jeans, cowboy hats and country stars. That was the city in my head, but it wasn’t the city before my eyes. As we rolled into Nashville, Jeremy and I were nearing the limit of what we were willing to endure for the day. Once we hit the city, the humidity rose, the sun beat down, traffic brought us to a crawl, and we were sick of sitting. We had been on the road for 8 or 9 hours, and the last thing we wanted to do was sweat it out as we inched toward our destination. Covered in bugs and road dirt, it goes without saying, we weren’t exactly feeling funky fresh. But as we would learn, the tougher the ride, the more we would appreciate the destination. We were soon saved by the good graces of our interviewee, and it wouldn’t be the last time. Lacey was kind enough to put us up pre-interview, so we could shower and hydrate. It’s a good thing too since the alternative was to look (as the kids say) like a hot mess on camera. Jeremy took this interview on solo for reasons which may or may never be explained in the show due to the magic of editing. The short of it is, I was exploring the local landscapes and taking in as much as I could. I found Nashville fascinating. In many ways it reminded me of Brooklyn. It was young, it was active, it had great food and terrific...
by Ian Rygiel | Oct 17, 2014 | Ian's Blog
Riding through Virginia, I had the creeping sensation we overestimated how many miles we could put down in a day. On the ride to Tennessee, I was sure of it. By our math, we’d be on the road for 9 hours before arriving in Nashville. At best we would have an hour and a half for breaks, gas, and food. Getting to our location on time was going to be a challenge. I’ve spent 9 hours in a car before. It can get uncomfortable, but you’re generally seated in a plush chair with all the amenities nearby: aircon, snacks, banter to pass the time, maybe even an audiobook. 9 hours on a stock motorcycle (that was not designed with this kind of trip in mind) is another story altogether. Legs cramp, hands turn into claws, and backs and shoulders scream. It was at this point that Jeremy and I began to develop increasingly elaborate ways to stretch out while riding. We crouched low, hugging our tanks, or sat tall to stretch weary backs. We rode one-handed, speeding up enough to coast on the clutch and give our throttle hands a break. I slid back on my seat, and back again, and back again to shift pressure points. Somewhere along the way, I developed a stretch I dubbed the “chicken leg.” I’ll spare a description of it, but I’m told it looked equal parts ridiculous and rude, though Jesse Boom sure got a kick out of it. The longer we rode, the less effective these stretches became until we finally gave in and stopped for the occasional break. This bit...
