Riding solo like this gave me time to breathe. I loved the Inferno MC, more than anything, but it was like spending all your time with family, a huge fucked up dysfunctional one. Sometimes you just needed to get out and ride alone, clear your head. Of course, my head was plenty clear right now. Hell, I'd just gotten laid this morning. But it was too sunny and this was too good a ride to trade for the shorter one down the interstate. It was late afternoon when I hit open road, and I finally sped up, trying to cover more mileage before nightfall. I'd gotten out of the scenic part of the the Pacific Highway, so I needed to get this show on the road. I shifted uncomfortably on the seat. I needed to stop and stretch. My back and hands started getting sore now more than they used to; at thirty-eight, I was nowhere near old, but damned if I hadn't started feeling old the past few years. I really needed a piss break too. I looked up at a couple of cars ahead of me, after miles of nothing- a minivan full of kids and a red convertible, some rich kid probably out for a joyride. Revving the engine, I started to pass the cars, and saw red out of the corner of my eye.
