Two Wheeled Tales

“Never approach a bull from the front, a horse from the rear, or a fool from any direction.”Yup that’s what Pa used to say; back in the days when horses traveled cross-country and tin-cans served us humans’ supper. But this ain’t a tale about those times. And with the faces of these Chinamen, you couldn’t […]

As we barreled down Farm Road 1725, I knew I was at the perfect place for the day. Halfway between New Waverly and Humble, Texas, I was flying down the road, racing Mike to my son’s school. Here it was 2:20, and he gets out of school at 3:10. I had never been late to

In a slick downtown Chicago H-D dealership, Joe Jacobs sat at his highly polished antique desk, desperate and disillusioned. The 45-year-old service manager had just been dumped by the love of his life. He couldn't focus on his work, his ever-increasing workload, on his uptown lifestyle, or on the frozen streets of Chicago. He hurt

The white lines reflected under the Road King’s headlight. They passed by in perfect rhythm, almost hypnotic. Jasper felt like he was flying. There was no breeze; the night air smelled sweet and the bike sang a beautiful tune from true duals. It was the perfect ride considering the circumstances.Jasper was on his way to

BORDERLAND BIKER Chapter 4 CHAPTER 4 of BORDERLAND BIKER It scuttled off into a nearby field of wrecked carsPretty sure the bikes are yours from the picture ID I found in the dry clothing I’m borrowing from the bag on the Wide Glide. Of more importance is the question; am I awake, still asleep, or

After finishing my second beer, in the smoke filled bar, it was time to move on, unless something good was happening. I held myself to a strict code, two beers and time to roll. I had the circuit down pat. It would eventually take me to the ocean were I would end up at the Sand Bar, a quiet local hangout

Paradise Springs was a dying town. I'd never been anywhere near the place, but I'd seen enough little shit-holes just like it to know the drill. It was Mayberry by way of the Twilight Zone, the kind of place where good people worked hard and died young and the bad ones grew fat and lived

Illustration by Chris KallasPart 1 Evan sat at his bedroom window and stared at the night sky. It had been a strange day for him indeed. He thought about what happened and smiled. Today was a turning point. A day when he summoned all of his courage and made a decision on his own, against

It was a South Texas spring, and the roadside along Highway 59 was a sunlit sea of bluebonnets, brightly-accented with dandelions and glaring red wildphox. The colors ran together in a psychedelic mosaic as they whizzed past Ringo on his Shovelhead. The old Harley was loaded down like a pack mule, with bedroll and bags

Lefty felt the vibration of his old Pan's engine tingling in the small of his back. “Man I'm getting old,” he thought to himself heading out on a lonely desert highway. “The bike's running good,” again thinking to himself. He had experienced some electrical problems recently. The electrical system was almost fifty years old. He