When I was twenty one I bought my first motorcycle. My only motorcycle. A Harley Davidson XLX, Sportster. Her name is Rohdindae, it comes from the Silmarillion and loosely translates to Horse of the Silent Shadows. This two wheeled mare, of iron and steel, was my sole means of transportation for almost 5 years. Rain, sleet, snow, or hundred degree heat, it didn't matter, I was in the saddle. We went all over this side of the Mississippi together. To places long forgotten by progress or filled to their capacity with humanity.

Interesting word humanity, it means all off human kind in one definition, generosity and compassion in another. How often these two definitions are at bitter odds with the other, is something to be seen.

These words are a mash up. Tales of the road.

The people I met, stories I listened to, and the loves I saw grow, all find themselves here, mixed within these pages. From Maine to Mobile and all the places in between, where people still, somehow, cling on to the good fight. The only fight worth fighting.