Copyright 2010 M.S.
"As a teenager I had my share of dirt-bikes, four-wheelers, go-carts… nearly any toy you can think of. At the age of 19 I was introduced to motorcycles. Not just any motorcycles, but Harley Davidson.
I was doing construction work and my car broke down. The woman I was dating had a Harley and I used it to get to work. I was hooked. The freedom I experienced while riding blew my mind.
Shortly after, I bought my first bike. A Harley Davidson Road King. Those were the days. I had the time of my life on that bike.
Prior to coming to prison, I purchased a street bike. One of those bikes that goes real fast and Harley people hate! My Harley friends called me a traitor.
I got hooked on the speed. My GSXR street bike would go 168 mph. Maybe faster, but that’s as fast as I went. When I came to prison, I had a fast bike, a fast chick, and an even faster life. Right now all three of them are gone. My life will never be that fast again. My next bike will be a Harley and my next girl will be ok with going a little slower. I have plenty of memories of all three.
My fast life ended the day I was sentenced. My fast chick hauled ass about four months after I left. That damn motorcycle hung out the longest. I don’t recall who was the better ride, the girl or the bike. The bike was definitely less of a headache.
One of my favorite rides was from O-Town to the beach. The highway that took me there was 528. My bike picture is in memory of my many rides. The checkered flag is for the finish line I will reach. Until then I have my memories of the sunsets at the beach and perfect sunny days. The skull is significant of a death of the old me. The man who was addicted to drugs, the man who couldn’t feel. The tear is for this time I have lost, the tubes feed me the memories that give me life. Yeah my shit’s weird and I’m 100% sober – crazy huh?
I hope you enjoy the art. To all my biker friends: I will ride again! I will redeem myself by riding Harley Davidson!
Live free my brothers and sisters.
Ride On."
2 comments:
Here's a funny memory: You riding a mini bike through the yard while pouring gas out of a mason jar into the carburetor, [I think it was the carburetor], just to keep it going. Your mom was about to have a heart attack! Then it happened, poof, fire and down you went just to get back up and do it again. Great memory! I have so many of them of you and your sibs. :)
I think that was the Little Indian bike! Mike put the fire out with his coat! I honestly don't know iif I remember that or if I have just heard the story enough times that I think I remember it. Thanks for sharing Sal! ...I'm assuming :)
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