...down one click

...pin the throttle. let out the clutch.

as I settled down for bed,

the bastard thought about the show he was watching.

Charlie and ewan were gonna go the long way around Africa.

and ewan broke his ankle 9 weeks before the trip.

healed up.

and right on time, they left for parts unknown.

and the bastard thought, "hey, you fat old sack of crap, you need to get back on the horse."

I though about a photo I found of my son I found on the way through the photo library on top of pichaco peak mugging triumphantly at his climb or just showing off for his dad.

and i thought about the little girl who is growing in my ladyfriend's belly right next to me right now and I thought, "you gotta be just as fulla life for her as you were for the boy."

and I thought about a joke that scoop and i tell each other all the time.

my hate makes me great.

it don't.

what makes me great is my desire to do it again.

my desire to get out there and hit the pavement.

tonight, the bastard wants to dream of open roads and the roar of the machine.

and the fucking wind.

I want it back. badly.

—the bastard