The Infamous Archives: Chased

Lead DNA: The Run Diaries


With “no shirts on, half-opened backpacks, looking terrified and incredibly out of place,” Lead DNA and friends faced down representatives of multiple law-enforcement agencies.

Illustration by Greg Pennisten

It was a sunny Saturday afternoon and Seaz, Ased and myself went to the local day spot to “make some panels.” At the time we had been painting this spot consistently for several years and it was always packed with nice beer cars and flats. That day was no different: BNSFs and Golden West flats. When we got into the spot, it was about 90º outside and sticky. We got hydrated, chose cars and started painting.
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T-Bone: Suck Fundays


A Sunday afternoon freight session for T-Bone and Icepick btm quickly turns into a cop chasing triathlon.

Illustration by Rain Vicious Styles

I’ve been chased a lot over the years, but one story that stands out is the time myself and Icepick BTM decided to do a freight spot in south Seattle on a Sunday afternoon a few years back. We chose a nice autorack towards the back side of the yard. We wanted to go big with our pieces since our supplies had been “sponsored” by Home Depot earlier that day.

The first bad sign was a security vehicle that began heading our way. We grabbed our paint and ran to the end of the line to wait them out. For whatever reason we did not view that as a sign to leave the yard. We went back and began painting again. This time I decided to get up on the hitch to scope every few minutes and make sure the coast was clear. I was all set to do the final outline when out of nowhere I hear a voice yell, “Freeze, motherfucker!” The cop actually said that it like that, but I wouldn’t have time to point out the fact that he sounded like an ‘80s cop character because when I looked up I saw him on the hitch pointing his gun right at my grill. That was my cue to run. Icepick was further down, but he put two and two together quick enough. I was doing my best Carl Lewis hoping that “Dirty Harry” wasn’t going to shoot me in the back.
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Twigs: Beware


After leaving 5-0 in the dust, Twigs TGE learned the hard way never to take a non-writer on a mission.

Illustration by Twigs TGE YME.

Spring of 2001. A small town in the Pacific Northwest. My friend and I went to a flophouse that we would party at from time to time. We sat around and smoked some weed with these two acquaintances of ours. As we were smoking, we were talking about painting a spot we had seen. The two people we were kicking it with said that they wanted to go and try their hands at painting.

Not using our heads, we invite them to join us, gathered our paint and hopped in my Mazda MX6, aka the “Warrant Ducker” because I was always riding dirty. On the way to the spot, I vividly remember listening to the Big Pun song “Beware,” which I have since decided was a sign. The spot we decided to paint was off of a busy country road. There was a field across the street from the spot. We decided to park up the road in an access road to the field that was hidden behind some trees. We grabbed our paint and locked up the car and walked over towards the spot. On arrival we started to paint. Looking back on it we never talked about what to do if anyone saw us or if the cops showed up. Big mistake.
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