Tattoo stencil application has always been about solving one problem: how to get a clear guide on skin that stays put long enough to tattoo without smearing, sliding, or wiping away too easily. The tools changed, but the problem stayed the same. What follows isn’t marketing history. It’s how working tattooers actually adapted, step by step. The Beginning: Acetate Stencils and Carbon Before spirit paper, many tattooers used clear acetate or celluloid stencils. Designs were hand-scribed into the plastic using a needle or blade. The transfer process was simple: A light coat of Vaseline on the skin. Carbon powder, charcoal, or lampblack dusted over the stencil. Press ...

Ride into the Red: TB Mars, Chapter Zero Under the blazing arc of Earth’s last sunlit horizon, a ragtag pack of chrome-anointed riders strapped leather to their backs and strapped their destiny to the belly of a Dragon rocket. We were bikers from all lanes—war vets, garage grease monkeys, hog builders, patch-wearing brothers and sisters—drawn by a single outlaw spark: a chance to carve a new road on the first colony with room enough for the whole pack. We called ourselves Shadow of Death, but we were only half-kidding. There on the lift-off pad, our choppers—modified for space but still growling—all gleamed ...

DedicationThis book is dedicated to American motorcycle clubs — past, present, and future.To those who ride their own line, live by their own code, and carry the fire of rebellion in their veins.TBIntroductionBefore the infamous 1% diamond patch came to define the outlaw biker world, there was another emblem—older, rarer, and steeped in resistance. That patch was the Diamond 13. This document aims to provide the most comprehensive history of the Diamond 13 patch: its origins, symbolism, evolution, and influence on modern outlaw motorcycle culture.Chapter 1: The Birth of the Diamond 13In the 1930s and 1940s, the American Motorcycle Association (AMA) dominated ...

 Winter’s At the Door End of November out here at the Brown Leaf Ranch hits different. Mornings are cold enough to make the dogs rethink their life choices, and the sun’s barely dragging itself over the ridge before it wants to go back to bed. You can smell winter in the air. Sharp. Heavy. Coming fast. I spend most days the same way this time of year: checking the solar, splitting what wood I can before the rounds freeze solid, kicking the generator just to remind it who owns who, and keeping the animals fed so they don’t mutiny. The geese scream ...

Let me take you on a deep dive into the intriguing world of coil tattoo machines.These machines are the celebrated workhorses of the tattoo industry, renowned for their incredible precision and power.In our exploration, we'll unravel the mysteries hidden within these devices.My goal is to provide you a comprehensive guide that will not only explain each component of the machine but also how these pieces function together to create stunning works of art on skin.First, we'll lay the groundwork by understanding the primary purpose of this guide.This is a learning journey aimed at demystifying the inner workings of coil tattoo ...

10. Tumultuous Behavior The raids came early in TB Mars. Sirens in the thin air, boots pounding against steel, armored rigs grinding through gates like they were paper. Every sweep ended the same—walls broken, pride dented, nothing found. No weapons. No stash. Just bikers who refused to bow. One raid went sideways. Their little tank-trucks plowed through the gates and wedged themselves into their own trap. Couldn’t back out without tearing through our wall. By the time the dust settled, they left empty-handed again—but this time they owed us damages. Proof written in bent metal: you can’t crush what you don’t understand. Still, ...

The Convoy Run to Redhaven The buzz of the machine filled the shop, steady like a rattlesnake. Torch leaned back in the chair, wincing but grinning, talking louder than the hum. I told him to sit still or he’d wear the needle sideways, but Torch never could keep quiet when the stories started spilling out. Heading for Redhaven “So there’s six of us,” Torch says, “rolling convoy to Redhaven. Crawlers creaking, bikes strapped down, the whole long haul across the dust. We’d been out there before, but this time wasn’t just another run. We were on our way to bring a new crew ...

The Long Run to Ash River The dust outside TB Mars shimmered like rusted glass when the club rolled out. Five engines snarled in unison, single file, not side-by-side. On Earth, they might’ve ridden two-by-two, tight and proud. But Mars wasn’t Earth. The trails weren’t wide freeways; they were carved paths of salt and shale, broken rover ruts, and the jagged lips of collapsed lava tubes. Out here, if you rode too close, you weren’t just risking paint—you were risking a wheel dropping into a crater. Grit led the line, Widow rattling like bones in a tin can but still carrying herself ...

Chapter One: From Asphalt to Dust 1. Earth Gone Sideways By the time the world gave up the ghost, most folks were either tuned out or gunning for the last piece of meat. The streets echoed with the last gasps of a dying era—smashed glass under boots, sirens swallowed by smoke, and the stink of desperation clinging to every corner. I remember old Grizz, a mechanic out of Pendleton, leaning against the frame of his half-buried garage, flipping a wrench in one hand and a cigarette in the other, muttering, “Guess this is what the end smells like.” Cities burned under the glow ...

4th Annual Jesse Doyle Memorial Run Friday started the way it should—coffee, gear, and a cold start that lit right up. I rolled the mile of gravel from the off-grid place to the pavement, pointed the bike toward Highway 97, and let Sprague River fall behind. Chiloquin. Chemult. Just road and time. In Chemult I bumped into two train riders—one with a guitar, both with a story. The older one had just lost his sister and was headed for Portland. I grabbed a beer, shared a minute, and let him play a few quiet bars for the people we miss. Then it ...