More Wild Road Tales

It was the heat that penetrated the red haze in her brain. Her skinfelt seared, heat penetrated through her jeans, her chest, her vest, and mostlyher face. She felt like she was being cooked alive. Even without openingher eyes, that thought managed to cut through. Lying out in the open in the desert on a […]

She called. Her voice was like the petal of a rose on a violin string, so soft and tender. It always touched my heart. I was just 120 miles away in the San Diego Naval shipyard aboard the USS Saint Paul, a heavy cruiser. We recently returned from a seven-month tour off the coast of

Travis quickly folded the thick envelope and shoved it in his back pocket. Today his shop assignment called for investigating the stock room of the dealership and writing down the part numbers from empty bins to be cross-referenced in the computer. Travis hated the job preferring to be in the back spinning wrenches, even if

      Authors note: Although this piece is arranged in a fictional format, every situation in it is a true story that actually happened.   *     *     * Under normal conditions, when departing for a road-trip, the average biker is now on vacation. Like most people, he probably works a lot and doesn’t get

Travis shifted uneasily as the old mechanic looked him over. Candy had assured him that they would hire him but it would take the approval of Sam, the weathered old mechanic who changed the tire on the Shovelhead just the day before. “Can you run a forklift?” Travis nodded yes. Sam motioned Candy to get

Having been summoned by Tinseltown’s latest red-hot director, I grabbed the last of my original script and trudged across the lot to his office. As usual, Lance was behind his desk, eyes glued to the editing machine. He shut it off and looked up. “You do the changes to the ‘See No Evil’ script?” “No.”

In loving memory of Woofer: 11/22/50 – 3/13/03I don’t know what time it is, and I carefully avoid letting my eyes wander to the glowing numerals on the bedside clock. I should be asleep. I have to be at work in a couple of hours. Whatever woke me is silent now, and I hear your

The staccato rumble of Tucker’s Harley brought Elowyn to her feet. Her hands trembled, her long, slim fingers clenched so tightly that half moons ofblood appeared on her palms where her nails gouged them. She knew from theway he sped into the dirt driveway, sliding to a stop in front of theirbattered trailer, that he

Wind, rain, cold, heat.I feel them as living, breathing entities.To know that all around me is alive,To know that I am alive. The bike between my thighs,The road beneath my wheels.The vibrations of the living world trembling through my body,Telling me I am alive. The sting of rain on my cheeks,Searing heat rising from the

Dominick was now a lean 180 pounds of mostly muscle; could bench-press two hundred and fifty pounds and run several miles with ease. He was tanned and tattooed and his dark hair and beard were both cut short. Even his bike was leaner and more powerful than when it first rolled into Monk’s shop. This