Category: Motorcycle / Biker
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250 Miles From Home: A Blown Head Gasket and a Brother’s Shop
There’s never a good place to blow a head gasket, but about 250 miles from home has to be close to the worst. Except I got lucky — she let go right near a brother’s shop. The brother himself was off on a run somewhere. But his son was there, and his son didn’t hesitate.…
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what happened to the body of Donald Jessup.
https://www.kiro7.com/news/prison-intercepts-photos-human-skeleton-another-bo/246262593/
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MARION COUNTY, OR crash involving a truck and a motorcycle
MARION COUNTY, OR – The Marion County Sheriff’s office is reporting that: On June 20, 2025, just after 4:45 p.m., 911 callers reported a crash involving a truck and a motorcycle near the 8000 block of Mt. Angel Highway, just outside of Silverton. Deputies and emergency medical personnel responded to the scene. Tragically, the motorcyclist, identified…
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Impaired motorcyclist dies, passenger seriously injured after crash near Mt. Bachelor, police say
Tragedy struck near Mt. Bachelor Tuesday evening when a motorcycle wreck left one man dead and another seriously injured. According to Oregon State Police, the crash happened just after 6:30 p.m. on Forest Service Road 46—also known as Century Drive or Cascade Lakes Highway. Beau Douglas Gibney, 36, from Sisters, Oregon, was riding a black…
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Origins of the Diamond 13: The Forgotten Patch That Paved the Way
September 28, 2026 Dedication This book is dedicated to American motorcycle clubs — past, present, and future. To those who ride their own line, live by their own code, and carry the fire of rebellion in their veins. TB Introduction Before the infamous 1% diamond patch came to define the outlaw biker world, there was another emblem—older,…
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The River That Burned Green – Founding Night of TB Mars
14. The River That Burned Green The fire snapped, throwing sparks into the thin air, the neon river humming beside them like some alien electric vein. The tents glowed faintly in the background, strange Martian cocoons that made the whole camp feel more like a fever dream than a campsite. Bikes rested nearby, silent silhouettes,…
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4th Annual Jesse Doyle Memorial Run
Friday started the way it should—coffee, gear, and a cold start that lit right up. I rolled the mile of gravel from the off-grid place to the pavement, pointed the bike toward Highway 97, and let Sprague River fall behind. Chiloquin. Chemult. Just road and time. In Chemult I bumped into two train riders—one with…
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The Convoy Run to Redhaven
The buzz of the machine filled the shop, steady like a rattlesnake. Torch leaned back in the chair, wincing but grinning, talking louder than the hum. I told him to sit still or he’d wear the needle sideways, but Torch never could keep quiet when the stories started spilling out. Heading for Redhaven “So there’s…
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The Long Run to Ash River
The dust outside TB Mars shimmered like rusted glass when the club rolled out. Five engines snarled in unison, single file, not side-by-side. On Earth, they might’ve ridden two-by-two, tight and proud. But Mars wasn’t Earth. The trails weren’t wide freeways; they were carved paths of salt and shale, broken rover ruts, and the jagged…