There’s a certain weight to the air when you roll up to the old Fredrikstad Brewery on a Tuesday night. The place smells faintly of oil and old brick, a mix of history and gasoline that clings to your jacket. Inside, the bikes are lined up like steel-backed soldiers resting for the winter, chrome catching the low light while the sound of laughter cuts through the hum of a brewing storm outside.
Old Time Bastard didn’t even exist a year ago, but you wouldn’t know it now. What started as a handful of riders with a shared itch to get on the road has turned into a crew that’s growing faster than anyone expected. Tuesdays are for coffee, stories, and planning the next ride, though every so often the cups get swapped for something stronger when the night calls for it.
Other clubs roll through, and sometimes Old Time Bastard rides out, trading handshakes and miles with whoever’s got the same fire in their gut. It’s not about flash or fame—just the simple fact that a machine and an open road can still bring people together. In that old brewery, surrounded by bikes and good company, you get the feeling that this thing is just getting started.
