Breakdown part 2

In the back of his head he knew this was a regular road for all 100 people of his town so there was a strong chance that he would receive help in the morning. This wasn’t the first time Sam has been stuck on the road as a result of his bike, so he knew what to do. He left home around 4 so he had a short period of time before dark. Sam found scattered dry wood and assorted tumble week and went to make a fire. He tried to use the old method of two sticks followed by two rocks, both unsuccessfully. So he unscrewed his rear indicator to get to the bulb. He broke the glass of the bulb and using some wire and his battery, together he made a spark for his fire. That was the hard part down. Sam soon stocked up on whatever logs he could find and got comfy for bed. You see that was his secret to beat hunger, sleep and it usually worked. Getting late he lay back and watch a timeless part of nature, the sky as he slowly fell to sleep.

Breakdown part 1

‘What a day’ Sam thought to himself. He got on his v-twin and was hittin the road on his day off. He was a lone rider, no patch, no club just a passion for choppers. He lived out of town towards the flats where you could lose yourself within 10 miles of where you started, riding country. Sam found himself out past death bridge a well known place as it was one that a local outlaw just recently rode his bike off in an attempt to right himself with the good lord. He rode with his comfortable posture and smile as usual and heard something different than the usual long flowing wind. He looked down to see his carby hangin on by one bolt. Before he could apply life support to his iron horse, it went. He grabbed the clutch and pulled the bike to a stop. With fuel leaking everywhere he switched the petcock before running to see if any of his s&s carb was still together.
Cut like a cake in two Sam knew he was stuck. Amongst all the commotion he had forgot his sense of direction.
‘Man, looks like I’m here for the night’.

Billy

Imagine this, a sweet, sunny Sunday afternoon, in a small urban community. Amongst the jungle of squares, lives Billy King, the man with the beard and bike. Unlike his community his pad was setup to rebel against the man in everyway he could, I mean really, compared to his neighbors he was nuts! His one story bungalow house had the doors, windows and locks turned open all the time, trash, mostly beer cans, scattered all over his lawn, which was only kept cut for his brothers’ bikes. Walk around the driveway and again another open door, his garage. This was his real home. I mean sometimes he sleeps in that old trash tunnel man, I swear things walk in their and never come out. My hammers’ in their somewhere. Yeah, Billy was the man, he was the typical stereotype of a biker, long black hair, nice friendly beard and of course the tattoos that many are just too afraid to get.