Jeff McBern ~ Laconia, NH
My father was a man who you could consider to be a true biker. He was never a Hell's Angel, but he rode with them. Hell, the man rode straight from the age of 15 until he broke his neck at 28. Thats when he met my mother in the hospital where she worked as an evening nurse. He would eventually settle down and raise our family, but throughout my life he has told me stories of his rides. He would ride solo when a gang wasn't present, sometimes days at a time, sleeping only when some good shade could be found. He would make his money by doing security for any house of ill ripute or Harley Davidson trade show he came across. Thats where he relieved stress and got parts for his bike. He never paid for his Harley motorcycle accessories, hell, he would make honda or suzuki motorcycle parts accessories fit on his bike if he had to. I was riding with my father the other night, and he is amazed at the yuppies and their bikes.They waste thousands of dollars on Harley motorcycle accessories, honda motorcycle accessories, yamaha motorcycle accessories, just to make their bike look fucking nice. Honestly, do you think your a true biker? My father is a true biker, he lived by the fucking thing. Look, now I am all pissed off; just had to get that off my chest...damn yuppies.
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