They came like thundering hordes over the mountains from Iowa, New York, Kentucky, Illinois, Michigan, New England, Georgia, Tennessee, Wisconsin, and even New Jersey. The majority of them rode hard tail choppers. They were dressed in black, wearing grim expressions. The local populace stood back in horror as they watched the picturesque Cherokee Reservation in […]
The Horse Magazine’s 2nd Annual Smokey Mountain Smoke Out Read More »
As usual when I visit my 78-year-old mom, she slips me clippings of stories she reads about motorcycles. As she slid this one onto the desk, I noticed that it was the same one Earl McNeely sent me from federal prison in Texas. When I was in Vietnam, my mom sent me clippings about
Peanut Butter and Harley-Davidson Read More »
Part I Francis “Ace” Calhoun awoke with the fear, accompanied by guilt, which was a bit odd. It wasn’t that Ace didn’t have plenty to feel guilty about. In his 32 years, he had been involved in as much debauchery as any 10 pimps or con men. He had slept with his best friend’s wife
BikerNet Fiction: The Set-Up by Jon Juniman Read More »
Nobody knew Buzzard’s real name. There was a reason for this; if you had aname like Horace Hieronymous Toozfetz, you probably wouldn’t go aroundadvertising it either. Some people might say that it’s a bit of anoverreaction to become an outlaw biker just because your parents gave you aname you didn’t like. Of course, the
BikerNet Fiction: You Can’t Go Home Again Read More »
Ace sat at a booth near the back of the bar and sipped his beer. The Midnite Club, a private club in the French quarter of New Orleans, was where he liked to go when he had to lay low. Right now, Ace was laying lower than a snake’s belly, at least until the heat
Slender ChancePart Two Fiction by A. Carney Allen Under escort a weary, begrimed figure was shown into the presence of General Vamero at the San Luis barracks. “From Las Palmas,” gasped Terry Devine, and handed across Don Isidore Pancha’s signed order. “Rebels-President-help–“ Minutes later General Vamero was preparing to lead a body of something like
BikerNet Fiction: “Slender Chance Part Two” Read More »
Sticky shards of beer bottle splashed against his face as Harrison rolled in the soiled sawdust to escape a worn, pointed cowboy boot. His troubled mind whirled. What was he doing diving towards the cigarette butt-strewn deck of the cowboy bar anyway? Less than a half hour before he pulled his ’78 Shovelhead up to
Bandit’s Fiction: Slugfest Read More »
