Joey woke up early. He had to blast to work, a new job. The sky shown a brilliant blue with sparce clouds over the vast Wyoming plains. He was new to the area after riding his Sportster out from California and finding an apartment. He immediately faced a daunting issue, though. Winter loomed and motorcycles didn’t fit. He needed to find a garage and a used 4-wheel drive pickup truck. He also needed a dojo and there weren’t any in the small town of Pina.
The growing berg was split by a highway and the founding fathers of the community wisely put the town on one side of the highway and the industrial area and growing oil fields on the other. Joey showered, trimmed his tightly cut Vandyke facial hair, dressed for work and rode a couple of blocks to Mable’s Diner for breakfast. He passed fresh new franchise joints being built like plastic toy boxes and an old brick building being restored. The Pina was clean, vibrant and growing.
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