Painfully rough night. Thanks to…

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Painfully rough night. Thanks to rotting trees in the Oregon forest and a harsh winter freeze that left everything boned, I was unable to gain access to my planned campground. Time to burn the plan and start from scratch. Having wasted an hour or more dicking around on forest roads it was getting late, myself getting weary. Down the hill into Lincoln city was the best option regarding time and location; which was a bummer because there isn’t shit for a chap like myself there. After dodging parking lots and shopping centers full of boofers and kooks alike, I found myself behind a furniture warehouse aside the loading bay.

Nobody in sight not a sound to be heard. I unraveled the wool blanket and crashed out aside the Harley utilizing the shifter and footboard as a pillow. Comfy comfy, until roughly two in the morning when Bambi decided he wanted a midnight snack and figured it’d be cool to raid my saddlebag. Not on my watch; I was up in a flash pepper spray in my left hand and knife in my right screaming and sprinting down the empty road after the thing. I had no idea what was going on but I was about to solve the problem the hard way – as ordered by the customer.

What a trip! I couldn’t figure if I scared him more or myself, as it was nearly impossible getting back to sleep with visions of a mad man sprinting into the obscene with knife in hand, madly screaming nonsense all the while delirious and confused regarding the situation as a whole. For the rest of the night I slept sitting on the bike as to show Bambi and whoever else strolled along that I was in ownership, and not playing games. Not tonight anyways.

– Highway Chile

Check out more stories from the ride.

Painfully rough night. Thanks to rotting trees in the Oregon forest and a harsh winter freeze that left everything boned, I was unable to gain access to my planned campground. Time to burn the plan and start from scratch. Having wasted an hour or more dicking around on forest roads it was getting late, myself getting weary. Down the hill into Lincoln city was the best option regarding time and location; which was a bummer because there isn’t shit for a chap like myself there. After dodging parking lots and shopping centers full of boofers and kooks alike, I found myself behind a furniture warehouse aside the loading bay.

Nobody in sight not a sound to be heard. I unraveled the wool blanket and crashed out aside the Harley utilizing the shifter and footboard as a pillow. Comfy comfy, until roughly two in the morning when Bambi decided he wanted a midnight snack and figured it’d be cool to raid my saddlebag. Not on my watch; I was up in a flash pepper spray in my left hand and knife in my right screaming and sprinting down the empty road after the thing. I had no idea what was going on but I was about to solve the problem the hard way – as ordered by the customer.

What a trip! I couldn’t figure if I scared him more or myself, as it was nearly impossible getting back to sleep with visions of a mad man sprinting into the obscene with knife in hand, madly screaming nonsense all the while delirious and confused regarding the situation as a whole. For the rest of the night I slept sitting on the bike as to show Bambi and whoever else strolled along that I was in ownership, and not playing games. Not tonight anyways.

– Highway Chile

Check out more stories from the ride.

highway chile, travel, motorcycle, harley-davidson, highway to hell, biker, bikes, hippies, people, nature, badass, californication, california, adventure, escapade, journey, journal, writing, photography

music, producer, audio, mycst, memories you can swim to, license, licenses

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