More Wild Road Tales

It was the heat that penetrated the red haze in her brain. Her skinfelt seared, heat penetrated through her jeans, her chest, her vest, and mostlyher face. She felt like she was being cooked alive. Even without openingher eyes, that thought managed to cut through. Lying out in the open in the desert on a […]

She called. Her voice was like the petal of a rose on a violin string, so soft and tender. It always touched my heart. I was just 120 miles away in the San Diego Naval shipyard aboard the USS Saint Paul, a heavy cruiser. We recently returned from a seven-month tour off the coast of

Travis quickly folded the thick envelope and shoved it in his back pocket. Today his shop assignment called for investigating the stock room of the dealership and writing down the part numbers from empty bins to be cross-referenced in the computer. Travis hated the job preferring to be in the back spinning wrenches, even if

      Authors note: Although this piece is arranged in a fictional format, every situation in it is a true story that actually happened.   *     *     * Under normal conditions, when departing for a road-trip, the average biker is now on vacation. Like most people, he probably works a lot and doesn’t get

Travis shifted uneasily as the old mechanic looked him over. Candy had assured him that they would hire him but it would take the approval of Sam, the weathered old mechanic who changed the tire on the Shovelhead just the day before. “Can you run a forklift?” Travis nodded yes. Sam motioned Candy to get

Having been summoned by Tinseltown’s latest red-hot director, I grabbed the last of my original script and trudged across the lot to his office. As usual, Lance was behind his desk, eyes glued to the editing machine. He shut it off and looked up. “You do the changes to the ‘See No Evil’ script?” “No.”

In loving memory of Woofer: 11/22/50 – 3/13/03I don’t know what time it is, and I carefully avoid letting my eyes wander to the glowing numerals on the bedside clock. I should be asleep. I have to be at work in a couple of hours. Whatever woke me is silent now, and I hear your

The staccato rumble of Tucker’s Harley brought Elowyn to her feet. Her hands trembled, her long, slim fingers clenched so tightly that half moons ofblood appeared on her palms where her nails gouged them. She knew from theway he sped into the dirt driveway, sliding to a stop in front of theirbattered trailer, that he

Wind, rain, cold, heat.I feel them as living, breathing entities.To know that all around me is alive,To know that I am alive. The bike between my thighs,The road beneath my wheels.The vibrations of the living world trembling through my body,Telling me I am alive. The sting of rain on my cheeks,Searing heat rising from the

Dominick was now a lean 180 pounds of mostly muscle; could bench-press two hundred and fifty pounds and run several miles with ease. He was tanned and tattooed and his dark hair and beard were both cut short. Even his bike was leaner and more powerful than when it first rolled into Monk’s shop. This

Standing at the bar facing the angry bikers, Dominick felt someone grab his ponytail, jerking him off his feet backwards -and then the lights went out. He came to laying in the parking lot next to a trash dumpster, blood in his mouth and with a stream of liquid pouring in his face. Urine? No,

Charlie’s Place is one of those old-bar-and-grills you see in antiquated black and white movies. It’s a place where you can get any drink you want as long as it’s a shot, a beer, or a shot and a beer. Charlie’s Place won the war against the changes, time and the outside world, rammed down

The light came from behind as she walked through the bedroom door, but he could still make out that she was all but naked. Long legs, a flat stomach and platinum blond hair. She was way out of his league, but he didn’t care, she was here with him and that was the main thing.

I parked the all-black custom-built hardtail “80” kickstart Evowhere it was visible from the window and headed into the bar.Swaggering slightly, I pulled my leathers out of the crack of my ass -trying not to be obvious. I ordered a Coke. The bartender, a new guy, raised an eyebrow likeit should have been a Jack

Coffee. All she wanted was a good cup of coffee. Was that too muchto ask? Apparently so. All she had been able to find in this littleditchwater town was oily swill that wasn’t fit for human consumption. She made do with a Coke, she really needed the caffeine. She hadn’t slept for almost 36hours and

What a lousy day. It was one of those spring days when the snow is almostgone and everything you look at is in shades of gray. The weather fit my moodto a tee. The last thing I wanted to be doing was sitting in this truckhauling gravel and dealing with people who wanted their road

She hit the kill switch and, with the V-Twin engine silenced, could hear only the wind sizzling past her ears. She dropped the stand and leaned the Deuce into his resting position. Pocketing the key, she swung her long leg off the bike. She stood motionless for a moment, the wind and the ticking of

The wind on her face was soft and cool. The Fatboy beneath her wasquiet and smooth. She missed the reverberating snarl of her Sporty through theslant cut drag pipes and the vibration of the 1200 Evo engine. But she hadwillingly traded in the Sportster, as well as her meager life savings, to buyhim the Fatboy.

Their hands bumped as each reached for the only copy of “Bugs andDaffy: The War Years.” He snatched his hand back and looked at his competitor.His eyes widened slightly as he found himself staring into sullen blue eyes inan ivory face. “Sorry,” he mumbled, “go ahead.” “No, that’s all right. I’ve seen it before.” “No,

The club was dark, crowded. The smoky air and press of bodies wasstifling. She felt a hand grope her crotch as she pushed her way through.She grabbed it without a thought, bending the fingers back until sheheard a yelp over the din of the music. Her eyes met the bloodshot, pain-filledeyes of her molester. “Oh

“There’s a table open,” she smiled at him over her shoulder, “I’ll gorack ’em if you want to get the beer.” He nodded agreement and pushed his way to the bar. He watched herwork her way through the crowd, up the two steps to the raised pool area and puther quarters in the table. He

For all my sisters who have known the terror and indignity of anassault, and there are far too many of us. The young woman walked slowly to the bar, took a napkin from theholder and held it to her abused lip. Pulling it away, she stared at the dirt and blood. Tears stung her eyes,

What the hell was he thinking? Obviously he wasn’t. Becausehere he was, idling down a long, narrow, graveled road at ten o’clock atnight in the middle of nowhere. Shit, they didn’t even have streetlightsout here. He should have just stopped at the motel out on the highway,called her, thanked her for her kind offer and

“Bastard,” she swore softly as she returned the phone to its cradle.”Jim, you dumb-fuck, butt-ugly, slacker bastard.” Nice time to back out on a ride, half-hour before they were to hit theroad. Fine. It was only 150 miles; she was going anyway. In reality, shepreferred to ride alone. Setting her own pace, taking the whole