My father once told me: “When you judge a man, start from the ground up.” He may have been offering a foundational metaphor for a man’s character, but I doubt it. You see, he was a tough plain speaking Irishman. A smart man, though with little education, his schooling was street learned, Marine Corps hardened.…

As bikers we all understand that there are certain risks we have in common. Risks that our car driving brothers and sisters of the byways and highways of the open road do not have. I’ve often theorized that this risk is the glue that binds bikers together and formulates our metaphoric commonality. A fender bender…

I am trying to understand why a curve in the road is so revered by the motorcyclist. The same person in a car would rather avoid it. To understand the word itself we must explore its origins. There is an interesting development in our roadway system here in North America over the course of the…

A collection of assorted keys are piled before me in a lump. Motorcycle keys. As I sit quietly in the corner of my man cave at home in a place where I ponder the universe, the keys occupy the far corner of my desk. A simple desk, with an old office chair too high for…

Its beginning is less than a mile from my favorite rocking chair on earth. The roadway of my dreams. Not far from the place where I find contentment at the end of a ride in a warm fire, a small garage with the Fat Boy parked inside and a fresh cup of tea. This rocking…