Motorcycle Mystique

  It’s been 50 years since Burt Munro took his Indian Scout Streamliner to the Bonneville Salt Flats and made history – a story immortalized by the feature film, The World’s Fastest Indian, starring Sir Anthony Hopkins. As a result, Munro’s legacy transcends motorcycles and symbolizes the much broader drive to push beyond conventional limitations […]

Invited were friends and members of Detroit Federation of MC Clubs. Inner city Detroit was beyond rough in the late ‘60s. A war zone of concrete and corrugated steel empty warehouses with interspersed with functioning businesses. The dirty pothole strewn streets, cluttered with debris, were dotted with greasy spoon restaurants and dive bars. Every building

The changing tides didn’t mean a thing. The moon was as gloomy as ever. The dark skies were darkening ever more as the monsoon clouds converged. The faint chirping of the sparrows in dusk were muted by the patter of rain against palm leaves. My slippers dragged on, its rubber inner-sole slapping against my foor

Four, high ranking members of the Two Skulls MC, including Little Steve and the prez sat in Steve’s truck halfway down the block from Karl’s house. No one spoke. All of them stared out the window at the house where the lone biker named Karl Skanlan lived. They were there to take care of business.

Here’s a link to the last episode: http://www.bikernet.com/pages/COURTHOUSE_RUNPart_Two.aspx   The Harley was truly at home on the highway. The combination of the torquey, low-revving, four-stroke engine, and the low slung riding position, made for an almost perfect traveling machine. Karl installed a set of “highway pegs” that enabled him to stretch his legs out in

Continued from chapter one: http://www.bikernet.com/pages/COURTHOUSE_RUNPart_One.aspx Karl was out. He could scarcely believe it. It seemed that one minute he was certain that he was going to jail, possibly for a long time, and the next minute he was checking his scoot out of the impound yard and rolling out of the station. The bike, amazingly

  Karl couldn’t seem to wake up. He just had that slow, lazy, drowsy feeling that wouldn’t go away. It wasn’t because he’d been working too hard, since he was currently unemployed, which didn’t necessarily mean that he wasn’t working, it just meant that he was working on his own. He was always working. When

Ton, a longtime member of the Few Good Men M/C, glared at the reflection in the back of the minivan. It was times like this that he wished the Shovel had mirrors. He had picked up the reflection of the tan van several miles before but now it was getting the best of him. A

This ain’t no tale of my misadventures on two-wheels. It ain’t about how I rode through hills or deserts or how I got into scuffles with the lawmen on the highways of good ol’ US of A. Nor is this about the girls, bitches or sluts I keep regular appointments with. No Sir! This is

As she finished the last of the pot, she gently and carefully funneled the shake onto a business card, bent just right to dump the last load into the bowl. She flicked the Bic several times, and a low glowing blue flame emerged just enough to light the green material in the glass pipe. She