The trash can spilled road trip sludge across the van floor again. Our rigs were rusted and clapped-out leaving them with an unsettling feeling of structural failure similar to our lower backs. We were ripping south from Kokomo, Indiana with spontaneous plans of a night or two in Nashville before returning east for the Rumble in Richmond, but once we set foot on the Tennessee soil all of us seemed to be jolted with a sensation of recharging our batteries. Some of the crew had already clawed across thousands of miles, rode multiple sessions as well as events, and endured enough booze-soaked A.M. hours to the point where each moment was no longer an individual story, it was now just one monumental blur of life.
Luckily I have a lifelong friend named Logan Collins who lives in the area and set us up at his house. Within a few hours the van was lodged out on his street again with extension cords running through the back door into the kitchen so the portable air-conditioning unit could run all night. We had good company, A/C, crapper and shower, and a beautiful local set of trails with a scene that makes you question relocating to slowly become a part of it. I quickly realized we weren't going anywhere for a while, and we didn't.
Since we had already been there last October the clips were filmed, so without having any of that on our minds our brains were relaxed enough just to simply lounge around. We had a few downtown nights with whiskey sloshing around our guts and live music ringing in our ears. Hell, we even saw Tim The Party Demon at one point. But outside of that it was quiet. It was mornings spent nipping on coffee and plucking on guitar strings. Afternoons spent carving bowl corners and driving golf balls. Nights spent warming the ribs with hot totties in a plume of smoke while watching the new season of Stranger Things. It was a full-blown recharge. It was rest and recovery. It was a vacation within the vacation. It was home while being far away from home.
The sessions enjoyed there wouldn't have even been documented if it wasn't for Erik Doty. We met Erik last time we rolled through town and he left a lasting impression. His creations did as well. If you're curious about more of Erik's work as well as how much the Nashville scene rules, watch their scene documentary here. Anyways, as the sessions went on I would stop from time to time to take it all in. I would survey the beautiful scene and amazing people becoming more and more fulfilled. And as I did this I would usually see Erik off in the corner hiding with a camera suspended from his neck. He wouldn't ask to set up anywhere or what feature everyone was feeling the most. He was just there like we were. He seemed to have his visions, but most importantly, he let the natural moments complement those visions instead of forcing them to happen. And as a bystander as well as a fan of his work that seems to be the only way he's ever done it. Below is the only real "content" from this particular trip to Nashville and I love it. Just a few authentic Erik Doty film photos of us enjoying our bicycles. Huge thanks again to all the locals welcoming us in. We love y'all.
All photos shot by @erikdoty