Mitch and Freedom saddled up and rode their iron horses west until the Sky Scrapers turned to corn. We met at a lonely intersection and I led them down some of my favorite back roads and tucked away bars. The weather was great and the roads were greater. We rode toward the setting sun and set it on fire for the night. We awoke in a mystical fog, had some eggs, then split ways.
We ran into Louie and Bing on the trestles
Freedom and Mitch Crystals
Brian in his pan-tent
Mitch in an early morning haze