Nearing Release and Prologue

 In the next few weeks, ‘American Road Runner’ the book will be available on Amazon, EBooks, Google Books and in paperback. It has been on hell of a road Writing, Producing and Formatting the book for all these mediums. However as with most roads I journey on, this road has been extremely rewarding and the smile on my face is getting bigger by the minute.

Also I have been enjoying my new Podcast and all that comes with learning that format. I have decided to go in this project with a very talented producer named Brian P.  The P is for Producer. His talents have really added a lot to the podcast and all I want to do with it and the stories we, all have to share. 

In the mean time, please enjoy the Prologue of the book; American Road Runner. 

 

Prologue

We are all members of the human race, so race we must! Enjoying a cigarette in my mouth, coffee tumbler in one hand and throttle in the other, the morning air kisses my face reminding me it’s going to be a beautiful day out here on the road. Always doing my best to make said road beneath me, mine. Running on it and enjoying it, moving with purpose all while staying alive and all the adventure that ensues astride one of my many  motorcycles. When I am moving as fast as I usually do, many hundreds of miles can be covered in a day. The land and weather along with the road can change drastically. It could open up and hail on me or I could climb enough in elevation and find snow. The heat could find me and penetrate everything; feeling like every ex-girlfriend of mine is holding a hair dryer at every part of my body. Bumps, cone zones, bad cage drivers and detours are all just part of the experience. Sometimes I stop on my road to find answers to questions only to find more questions that, need answers. It seems the more answers I find, the more questions find me. It all reminds me that my questions worth answering, are found running on the road astride a 2 wheeled machine.

Years ago I started competing in the cross country chopper race known as The Stampede. Its all about running on road on a stripped down rigid motorcycle as fast as you can from left to right here in the United States of America. The first time I ran this race I learned a lot, with most of my engine blowing up somewhere in the middle of Texas and my 30 something year old body breaking down. It all showed me just how much I had to learn to get to where I wanted to be in this underground and very illegal world of racing. That year I still managed to come in 16th out of almost 40 competitors; racing 3000 miles in just over 3 and a half days, mostly on half an engine.

This is very illegal, unsanctioned road racing with 4 rules, no windshields or hard bags, no chase vehicles to save you, no soft engine mounts and rigid frames only meaning, no shocks in the rear. My  machine had to be able to take the punishment of all the road had to offer. I chose to build around a retired cop moto from the streets of San Francisco, manufactured by Kawasaki as a KZ1000 Police model. I got the inspiration to build on this platform from my Pops who had an old 1959 Harley Davidson cop bike he had chopped up when I was just a little dude. Retired cop bikes have seen a lot,  if they made it through that, they should be ok with all the adventure and punishment the Stampede had to offer.

Personally I put around 300 loving hours into rebuilding my cop bike to qualify and compete in this race. Asking my old bike, my aging body and my spoiled American attitude to run far and fast was a tall order with all the danger the open road has to offer and the greatest danger of them all, myself. The question was simple: How fast can a common man race his home rebuilt machine across this country while dealing with the all everyday life has to offer?

At 38 years of age, I am competing again in the greatest illegal cross country chopper road race to ever exist in the history of man. I can write this because most people could not or would not lower their standards enough to compete in such a debauchery of machine abusing, body destroying, soul stealing activity. This kind of badassery is very unpopular for the masses and reserved for the unethical and immoral types like myself. With 60 or so competitors the year the story in this book took place, the Stampede would leave the desert town of Barstow California. It would head north up interstate 15 then east on 70 to 64 then, South on the 95 ending in Southern Pines North Carolina, without stopping. We all would take the same secret route given to us just 12 hours before the flag dropped at 6 am on the Sunday known to the rest of the world as, Father’s day.

When I competed in this race before, I was a married. Now divorced and a single Dad, running in this race and finding my new road in my middle aged life proved to be a great adventure of self, against self, with self and for self, as completely selfish as one could be. Wrenching, rebuild, road running and racing is one of the most selfish things I do, it’s right up there with taking the time to write this book. Selfish time to myself to think, breath, create and find the answers to my questions, my way; all while pushing myself and my machine across this beautiful country. This book is very real, and it all took place. Some of the names of the people in my life have been changed to protect their anonymity but other than that please note: I am just not creative enough to make this shit up.

I still live and work as a Mechanic here in Riverside California where I was born and raised. My house is here, across the street from the house my Pops owned when I was born. My children are here and there is no reason to get too far from those adorable creatures. I still run a family race team of Land Speed and Flat Track Racing with my Son. I have not moved very far but, that Mistress of a road calls to me often, and I run fast to answer it with 2 wheels running beneath me.

This story takes place in only a few days of my life but, priceless time it turned out to be for me. I spent about 2 years of self-time to put into words the badassery of self-defeating actions known as The Stampede. It’s no different to me than rebuilding a skoot or anything else I enjoy, this book just took a lot longer. I am always tuning myself and my relationships with all the people and things around me. My life, has to suit me, as I see fit, all part of my happiness. As an American, running on road and writing about it is just what I do for self.

A side story to this book is my Pops would start to edit it for me making it like my motorcycle racing team, a family affair. This included all the ups and downs that come with the business of, business with family. One day in the summer of 2017 I would be sitting in a hospital room with my Pops in Downey California. We had spent that whole week together in and out of different hospitals while he went through a sudden and emergency triple bypass surgery on his heart. The man had a heart attack a day before even going to the emergency room but he was being good, doing everything the Doctors and Nurses told him to do. In that week it was just him and I, we would rewrite and edit a lot of the first few chapters of this book, enjoying the time together as father and son can while doing our best to keep up with his new change of physical health. As he was enjoying reading a book out loud to me called ‘The Man Who Would Stop at Nothing’ by Melissa Holbrook Pearson, he would suffer a massive stroke in a recovery room, with no one else around and die in my arms at 66 years of age.

As you will learn from reading this book, my Pops was simply always there. Just a big influence on my life and all I do. He was always following me on his newer ‘old man bagger’ of a skoot, with his unwavering love and support for all I did and all we got to enjoy together but that as they say; is another story. I have moved a lot around in my life since this story took place but at the end of the day, I am just a man with a passion to race. Running on road while enjoying the adventure of it all. Life moves by pretty fast, so I might as well race it. Everyone has a story, thanks for enjoying some of mine.

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