ready for the salt?

chillin' with the cheaters

When I hear about someone being a fan, I usually think of screaming teenage girls. Or soccer fans. Or dinosaur fans. But I would never ever consider myself being a fan. Of anything.

Except maybe for this: It was on a sunny afternoon in 2004 or 2005. I was hanging out at Custom Parts and Wear, Switzerland's only hot rod store and shopkeeper Stöffel just had received a dozen or so copies of a book called Cheatersville. It was a nice coffee table book by Laurent Bagnard, a French photographer. And there wasn't much text in it. But the book was packed with bitchin' photos of a bunch of young hot rodders, of their rides, of their parties and their road trips. Those hot rodders weren't from the US, hell no. They were from goddamn Switzerland. It fucking blew my mind. From that moment on, I became a fan of the Cheaters Geneva. And I still am.

"A fan, sometimes also called aficionado or supporter, is a person who is enthusiastically devoted to something, such as a band, a sports team, a book or entertainer." (wikipedia.org)

Stephane's chopped 1950 Mercury.

Franck's blown 1932 deuce sedan.

Laurent's shoebox Ford.

Xavier's daily driven El Camino.

lakester without a lake

Just another unreal moment at the Pendine Sands Hot Rod Races 2014.

hangin' at the hangar

The annual Hangar Rockin' festival is slowly turning into some kind of love/hate thing. Just like most successful events do, it keeps growing bigger and bigger – which, as we all know, doesn't necessarily mean "better". While in previous years it was feasible to avoid the crowds thanks to clever planning, this year this seemed impossible. But it wasn't just a matter of popularity. The whole event is starting to look and feel like a giant open air music festival with many of the drawbacks you know from those kinds of shows. – Oh well, it just ain't what I used to be, right? So, maybe I'm just getting old? That's probably another reason why I wasn't too busy with my camera and instead preferred hanging at our booth talking to friends. Which is, one of my favorite things about this show, as you can also be sure to meet tons of great people. And there were also a lot of beautiful cars. Which makes me wish I had taken more photos but after the fifth dude stumbling in front of my lens I was kinda done. Except for this shoebox Ford. Ramon, you outdid yourself.

Some other rides that caught my attention. I'm happy to see that colors are coming back in force.

But that shoebox...

sometimes

Sometimes, life just needs a little more salt.

rumble in the ruhrpott

Attending a car show without bringing an own car always feels a little weird. Nevertheless I had a fun afternoon at the Rumblers BBQ 2014 in Gladbeck, Germany. The BBQ was held around the machine hall of an old coal mine, typical for the Ruhrpott area, and the setting was mindblowing, to say the least. On top of the that, the sun was shining and I met a bunch of great people I hadn't seen in a while. Click here for the gallery with 42 photos!

Off to the gallery...

like as the waves

Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
So do our minutes hasten to the end;
Each changing place with that which goes before.
In sequent toil all forward do contend.
Nativity, once in the main of light,
Crawls to maturity , wherewith being crown’d,
Crooked eclipses ‘gainst his story fight,
And Time, that gave, doth now his gift confound.
Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth,
And delves the parallels in beauties brow;
Feeds on the rarities of nature’s truth,
And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow.
And yet, to times in hope, my verse shall stand,
Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.


William Shakespeare