And in some strange way, I'm to blame. At the office. If you're thinking this is just another slice of Americana, you're right. It seems like some oil was laid-out on the trail and that was it. The thing is, I don't have a spare axle, and I'll be three-wheeling it all week long.
Some guys know when to quite.
Others learn the hard way with a broken axle, cold wind blowing, sleet in their eyes and the sun setting on the cloudy horizon. The first few bunny-hops and throttle stabs at the slick rock weren't anything less than a crowd pleaser, bunny hops, smoking rubber and a wheelie in for the hell of it. These are the freaks who were camped outside the Eco-commune, the Restorie Creamerie. This faction of Eco-Fascist are on the loose and seeking all you've got, including the right to enjoy the land that our forefathers fought, bought and paid for. Remember them when you dig deep into your pockets on April 15.