Sixteen hours of hard ass riding to get to this god forsaken hole. Left Santa Fe with a single Franklin in my pocket and a pair of skinny saddle bags. Figured I was dogmeat outside Tuscon when the redlights and horns came up behind me. Thanks to the sweet blond going ninety in the Audi I’m still rolling. After thirty years of hard riding I thought I was ready to put some grass under my feet and relax. Not yet, not today anyway..
Got a call from a bro, shit hit the fan you need to roll. Looked around my new digs and heard the “You should be out looking for a job” and understood it was time to ride. She was sweet up to the time we started playing house. I be right back I’m just heading to Cal for a few days..See ya..
Our operation had been up and running for sixteen years. It started out as a payback and grew from there. Simple and straight forward just like our quite motto. Sometimes you have to break the law to do the right thing..It’s went from game plans scribbles on a dirty napkin to full blown computer enhanced arrangements. Damn the things that go through your head after to many hours of riding..
Rosamond and the hide away in the high desert are an hour away. Time for some answers. My bodies throbbing and my mind keeps going the wrong direction. The hot deserts, truck stop corndogs, lack of sleep and the need to hard throttle have taken their toll but I have a feeling today is far from over..
A short from chapter #1...part 2 coming soon..
Rat
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1 comment:
Hmmmm...playing house...lol! I like this. Been there but maybe not in the same way. Although thoughts may be in the wrong place and it hurts it's still a better feeling than not being there. Anything is better than the grind.
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