Two Wheeled Tales

My first Harley was a 1979 Sportster, Guards red (Porshe red) with the old style lettering on the tank. I remember picking it up in March. My brother Gary had a truck or I should say what was left of a truck. Yeah I picked it up in a truck due to insurance reasons. It […]

Photo by www.vixenstars.com   Ain’t no use in lookin’back…  Jody’s got your Cadillac. Ain’t no use in goin’ home…Jody’s got your girl and gone.. Your left, Your left, your left, right,BRAVO!!! One helluva run, but Jake Kincaid wasglad it was over. It had taken nearly fourmonths, but he’d done it. He rode themodified Super Glide through

Every time I saw a Harley I used to say “Some day”.I had a lot of Harleys. My first was a black pan. All black with black saddlebags. Had another black chop pan that never ran right and bled oil. It had black saddlebags too. Had a 79 Lowrider in orange and O.D. green. Loved

My first Harley. Well let me back up a little bit and start by saying I had just sold my last Yamaha to buy a car from a friend who was going to the brig. I needed to get back up on two wheels. I knew I didn't want another japaneese bike, but I was

I had to call Bandit back at his velvet-walled Bikernet penthouse office three times before he stopped hanging up on me.“I’m serious, you stolen-plate runnin’ bastard! And stop hanging up on me!” I shouted into the phone.“You want me to fly you out there and pay you to cover Miami strip clubs?” came the suddenly

This is the story of my first Harley. It is one filled with dreams, good times, friends, and enemies, drugs, business dealings, parties, women, & treachery. It is a story that needs to be told, for the young ones to learn from, if they will. The time is approximate, and all names have been changed

Scoots First Ride Scoot’s second chopperMy first ride was a “Bug” mini bike when I was around 12-yrs. Old. It was one of those “cool” ones with the peanut tank and baby apes. First thing I did was rip off the exhaust and put on a straight pipe. My life went down hill from then

It had been a great day, as far as workdays go. It was Friday at last, and I had just finished lunch at home and cranked up the old Harley for the ride back to work. It was early summer, about 95 degrees, and it felt good cruising at 60 mph down the two-lane highway.

I found myself between jobs. The company I worked for the past 4 years was closing down at the end of the year and my new job wasn’t scheduled to start until February. It would require us to move from Texas to Virginia, but that’s what you do sometimes to pay the bills. Preparations needed

The Ace Café, 1969.There’s a place in London that is the heart and soul of British motorcycling history. The bikes have changed, the mode of dress has changed. One thing remains; it’s THE place you have to visit if you are ever in the UK.The Ace is the Iconic soul of English biking!Closed between 1969