I had a job this previous weekend and the powers that be decided it would be more efficient for me to make the trip between Louisville, KY and Houston, TX entirely by driving. “No big deal,” I thought, “I can dictate my own stops and breaks and take in the sights!” That is if I managed to figure out something notable to spend time on during my exit of Kentucky at the end of the job.
Category: SuperMagic
Posts by Ryan
NonStopTuning’s 9th Anniversary Weekend
Non Stop Tuning is a company pushing car culture in a big way for Texas. With a few cars in Formula D’s pro series sporting NST slaps, the company has more than a couple valid reasons to celebrate at the beginning of every drift season.
RiceboxMeet – A TX2K14 Precursor
This time of the year the rest of the country celebrates a typical spring break, but for some down in Houston, TX, we have our Spring Break tuned on race gas and we call it TX2K.
Critical Mass Houston (or so)
CJ and I’ve ridden Critical Mass in the past but neither of us have actually made a post about it. It’s kind of silly that we haven’t when one considers the hilarious amount of drama that the local media generates the day following the last Friday of every month. For those who don’t know, Critical Mass is a congregation of Houston Cyclists who go for a bike ride and enjoy each other’s company. Haha, I’m kidding. The better way to drum up page views is to describe it as 34 million drunken hipsters running red lights, wasting tax payer money on Police escorts and making you late to your 9pm class with Faaaaabian.
RedBull Urban Rhythm & Gasoline Teahouse Meet
A couple of weekends ago RedBull Energy was in town and put on Urban Rhythm, an awesome BMX show set on a city block turned dirt/vert course colored up by many of Houston’s talented writers and painters. When the stage was complete, dozens of cyclists and extreme sports fans braved cold and muddy weather to glimpse some sweet jumps.
The 2013 Ferrari Festival at Highland Village
Those that know me should be aware that I love exotic sports cars. From Ferrari in particular, I grew up with framed posters of a Testarossa and an F40 on my wall. Knowing nothing of cars, I still revered the two as pinnacles in automotive engineering and design; works of art sculpted by God and donned upon adults way cooler than my parents. To this day 348s will break my neck every time, and the F40 had permanently turned me on to big wheels, giant wings and wearing Hawaiian shirts with white shorts and a gold chain.