Bike Week (NSFW)

"Someone recently subscribed me to a biker magazine – “V-Twin.”

Ever since, I have had motorcycles on my mind.  It beats having women on my mind.  They will both kill you.  I’m not quite sure which one is a better way to go, but a motorcycle is quicker.  A woman will kill you slowly.  You can leave your bike at home alone or out in the cold and it won’t complain.  Best part!  You can jump on your bike and ride any time….

Bikes have become a huge part of my life.  The farthest back I can remember was at age 12.

It was a Sunday and our family was headed to church.  A large group of bikes passed us and a smile slowly spread across my face.  Men with long hair and tattoos, bikes with loud pipes that made our car vibrate.  …And the women hanging on to those guys.  I thought to myself, If only I had a motorbike, I could win my crush’s heart.

After that, my BMX was transformed with the help of a crushed soda can jammed into the rear tire-tread.  I cruised my neighborhood as a little boy with huge dreams.

Funny, where life takes you.  I have been on a long, hard journey for many, many years.  Over 20 years have passed since that silly boy had that BMX and a dream.

I finally got me a real Harley and I have a ton of bike stories.  Even funnier: I heard from that girl I mentioned – the crush – she’s now a woman and looked me up to check on me.  I smiled and couldn’t help but remember that silly 12-year-old boy.  I told her I owe her a Harley ride.  So if you’re reading this, the offer still stands.  And whenever I’m stopped at a traffic light with a cutie riding behind me and see an eager face stuck to the window in the car next to me, I give him a smile and a thumbs-up.  Maybe I just gave him a dream as well.

I said I had some stories, and I do.  The most vivid would be of Bike Week in Key West, Florida.

…Stopped at a red light on Duvall Street, an underdressed woman steps into the street and climbs aboard my chariot.  Ah… the life of a biker!  All I know is that a whole heap of tits, ass, and high heels is now straddling me.  I was young and eager at the ripe old age of 24.  I was also naïve and failed to notice my passenger came from the local transvestite bar.  Although the body behind me had tits, it wasn’t born with them.

(I've been fooled, too)

He exited my bike at the next light.

I caught hell for that from my riding partners.  What I couldn’t see in my rear-view, they all had seen from the start.  If only objects in the mirror did not appear smaller than they are, I may have noticed the dick.  Then again, I’m a guy.  The tits had me fooled.

That’s OK, I got it right and had two hot, naked women making-out on my bike later that night.  God, I hope my Mom didn’t find those pictures when she packed up my house….

If you ever find yourself in Key West, check out Captain Tony’s and have a sandwich at Sloppy Joes.  Two fine places to chill.  …Just watch out for the night life.  That place can be dangerous!

Another year, we did the Myrtle Beach bike rally.  I had a Road King then, and my friend and I rode the 800 miles to the event.  Nearly the whole ride was in heavy rain.

We pulled in to our campground soaked.  Our women had followed in a van with tents and camping supplies.  That night it rained and everything was soaked.  The general out-look of a biker is fuck it!  So we cracked beers at 8 a.m. and drank breakfast.

The bar in Myrtle Beach to check out is Suck, Bang, and Blow.  It’s a well-known biker bar.  It’s a burn-out bar.  You ride your bike in a side door, pull up to the bar, and do a burn-out.  Many guys will completely smoke their whole tire off.  They even have a tire shop that replaces tires.

The bartenders wear chaps with thongs and, standing on the bar, shoot the crowd with super-soakers.  Bikers have a hard life.

(Just more of God's children, making daddy proud...)

After a big day of drinking and staring at boobs, we return to our flooded campsite.  Everything is now soaked.  We build a campfire and then sit around in lawn chairs butt-ass naked.  Yes, naked.  …Drinking beer and laughing our asses off.

It’s late, and we’re the only campers still up and carrying on.  An older biker walks up and begins to chat with us.  My buddy stands up to grab him a beer – naked, dick swinging.  The old-school biker takes the beer, cracks the top and says, “Looks like you all are having a good time.”  He then casually walks away.

These are the things you see at biker events.  …Especially at the campgrounds.  Personally, I love it.  Miss the hell out of it.  Hello, Sturgis!!  As soon as they let me out of this chicken coop, I’m ready for some more boobs!  Anybody for camping?

Bikers are a different breed.  Loud pipes and wind in your hair spells freedom for this group of people.  You see tattoos, muscles, chains and leather, long beards and even longer hair - Lots of skin - boobs are a given.  Nudity is common.  It’s an adult good time.

Bikers are a good bunch of people, always looking out for their own.  …Just think of all the charity rides that bikers organize each year for those in need.  Toys for Tots is a huge, well-organized ride for families in need.  Gathering presents so children can have a Christmas.  There’s nothing cooler than seeing a hard-core biker headed to a charity event holding a teddy-bear.  It touches your heart.  Personally, I think angels come in all shapes and sizes.

(Thanks to the Texarkana Gazette)

A nice afternoon would be cruising down some back road.  Wind in my hair.  My woman leaned up, whispering something in my ear, her arms wrapped around me.  Steppenwolf and “Born to Be Wild” on the stereo.

They say you can tell a happy biker by the bugs in his teeth.  For that very reason, I like windshields.

Sometimes at night, when the prison is quiet, I can hear a Harley’s pipes cutting through the air.  I wonder if that rider is calling out to his brothers on this side of the fence.  …Makes me remember that 12 year old boy and his big dreams.

I also remember that I owe someone a ride.  On my Harley, of course!"      


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