Thursday, July 12, 2012
Boston Mikes Wicked Bike
The first night of the Smoke-out ended in a dark cloud hanging over our campsite neighbors. "Boston Mikes" crew lost one and one went to the hospital. As we lay in our tents that first night ,contemplating our own mortality and hoping the end was quick and painless. You realise that this is where we belong. Among our chopper brethren. Our lives we've chosen comes with more risk than other people may be comfortable with. It's these ragged edges we dance on that feeds our souls . In the distance you could here the rumble of motors, the occasional burnout at 3am and, the laughter of long lost friends.
Posted by Mikes Bikes at 9:52 PM