Independence
Some weekends change your life in quiet ways. This one is filled with firsts: our first real road trip together, my first morning writing while she sleeps peacefully nearby, and most importantly, the day she claims her own freedom by buying her first motorcycle. There couldn't be a more fitting day than Independence Day.
We Are the Same
Some people think becoming a rider starts the day you buy your first motorcycle. I don't. I think the motorcycle is just paperwork. The rider was already there. This weekend, the woman I love gets her first bike, and I already know exactly what's about to happen.
The Best Laid Plans
The plan was simple: breakfast at Pantry Dos, point Nyx north, and ride to Colorado to see my girlfriend. Then the throttle died, the starter spun, and my beautifully orchestrated weekend turned into trailers, logistics, and a different Harley. But the destination never changed.
Letting Off the Throttle
I found myself letting off the throttle this weekend. Not because I was tired. Not because the bike wasn't running right. Because for the first time in a very long time, I wasn't trying to get somewhere. I was exactly where I wanted to be: surrounded by veterans, raising money for kids, riding with good people, and sharing the road with a woman who makes my soul feel whole.
Behavior Correction Plan
Motorcycle riding is equal parts freedom and survival. Between breathtaking New Mexico landscapes and drivers treating traffic laws like optional suggestions, I finally decided to start documenting the chaos with a full-on camera setup mounted to the bike. Expect beautiful scenery, questionable life choices, and a lot of screaming.
The Road Beckons
After betrayal, trauma, and months of emotional chaos, a simple email from a distant friend became something unexpectedly grounding. A reflection on motorcycles, human connection, healing, and the irresistible pull of the open road.
Running South
I’m coming up on five months since the accident. Five fucking months. And just when I thought I was clawing my way back, life decided to remind me that sometimes the hardest hits don’t come from the road… they come from people.