The Biker Spirit Never Dies

He had decided to take an early trip to Daytona before Bike Week and followed nearly as possible the the same route that his father had traveled the night he died. Breaker had come across Florida on some of the old settlers trails and in one portion of Brevard County he had to get on the interstate. As much as he disliked running this road he had no choice. While cruising up I-95 he started to get the familiar premonition that his old friend the Panhead was about to humble him again. Just as the sinking in his gut began to set in, and the motor started reminding him of it’s quirky ability to shut down for no apparent reason, he noticed a sign ahead that said, “Malabar Road-One Mile”. Suddenly his memory dinged him. He had heard from his brothers that there was a biker bar just off US 1 on that road and they stayed open pretty late.
“Maybe I could get there and and find some help before this old Panhead put’s me on the side one more time”, he thought. It was getting on to midnight and he did not cherish being stuck out on the interstate with the sky clouding up as it was.

He made the exit with a sigh of relief and headed east. Breaker prayed to God that if He had any influence over machines that He make this one behave until he got to some help. Breaker passed several convenience stores just off the interstate and pushed on knowing he would be better received with his pending problem at a place where his kind hung out rather than a stop and shop road side robber. He now entered a stretch of the road where there seemed to be very few houses or any sign of life,
“Where is this place? ”, he thought.
Just as he was coming up on what appeared to be a curve in the road the Panhead pulled it’s usual unwanted stunt. The motor went dead with no more warnings and sounded as if it had died for the last time. Now he was without power, lights, nothing, just the sound of the wind, the chain racing over the gears, and the tires on the asphalt. His prayers to God unanswered, he pulled in the clutch and at that moment saw what appeared to be a vacant street off to his left so he quickly steered the dead Pan onto the entrance apron and brought it to a halt. He got off and looked at the old Pan in the fading moonlight and said with a slight smile, “Well it looks like you’ve done it to me again. What’s the problem this time?”

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