Two Wheeled Tales

Click to see morefrom Lucky Devil Photos by RFRFour hours on the road and I finally reached Snake Valley. I haven’t had anything to eat all afternoon and I ignored the ‘AllYouCanEat’ sign at the local diner heading straight for Lukes Cavern. It’s the seediest bar in town and had all that folks like me […]

For So Many YearsI Was Lost SomewhereIn Between The Grease And GearsNot Sure Which End Was UpThe Whole Time Pushing My LuckThe First To ComeAnd The Last To LeaveI Crowned Myself TheLife Of The Never Ending PartyWhile Others Used SpoonsTo Get Their FixI Used A Snow Shovel‚To Nab My KicksChasing DeathAnd Gaining On It FastTo

H. L. Harding, known to his friends and enemies alike as “Hardluck” for obvious reasons, walked through the sagging front door of The Rathole Bar and Grill and deposited his wiry frame on a dangerously tilting bar stool. He turned to the only other patron of the erstwhile prosperous establishment. Eddie, the bartender, sat a

The sun was a spoiled lemon drowning itself at the soiled surface of the sea. The waves swept forward and flowed back, with hushed sounds like giggling girls playing with a stranger’s shadow. I wiped the sweat on my forehead, fixing my hat to avoid the twisted rays of the dying lemon-sun. A strange taste

It’s better if you don’t know my name.Better for you, and certainly better for me.I’m the person you hear about on the news sometimes, or read about in the newspapers.I’m probably one of the most wanted people in America.Wanted by State and local Police Forces, the FBI, hell the CIA and the NSA for all

About two months ago, one of my riding buddies suggested a ride through Death Valley. Was he serious?! Death Valley; where the rocks seem to come alive as the shadows from the ever-present sun play tricks on your eyes. Death Valley; where men have lost their fortunes, their sanity and their very lives. Death Valley;

There was the squealing of tires that Ray though must sound much the way apig might squeal at the moment of slaughter. The white car veered out ofcontrol, slicing across the next vacant lane and directly into the path ofa road hazard sign. The Nova lived up to its namesake becoming a fireballof twisting metal.

Friday night, 9 o’clock, downtown Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Corner brick bar, three days before Christmas. Some 60 years of coal dust had robbed the ceramic stone of its color and replaced it with flat black. Two Shovelheads were parked at the curb. A drizzling rain formed a puddle on the solo seat of one of the

Jake woke with a prison-cell start and rolled toward Jennifer. Her naked body, covered partially by a thin sheet and tumbles of dense auburn hair, shimmered with youthfulness and seduction. Her shape was a perfect hourglass turned on its side. She did something with time that was distant to him. He couldn’t figure her out.