Weekends are meant to be ridden, and so I did. As a loner, which is something is not putting on my nerves anymore, I just hit the road once again. Death is always round the corner.
I was feeling plentiful, the Triumph was roaring and devouring corners as usual, as you wouldn’t expect from a bike that long and heavy, and the scenery was delightful. A bit too fast some might say, but still great anyway.
It wasn’t until the end when other bikers started making signs advising me to slow down, and I thought of cops kindly giving speed tickets to sports bikes. I normally get away with them as they don’t expect a cruiser going that fast, and as sport bikes are much faster than me anyway I guess they ignore me a bit. But the possibility didn’t quite appeal to me and I really slowed down.
I saw the cops, and broken pieces of motorcycles on the ground. Death was in our backs once again, and I guess that’s the toll we pay for such an amount of freedom. As long as it isn’t ourselves is just fine, right? Well, it’s not, but it is what it is. Poor devil losing his life as the car in front was leaking oil.