Jinetes de suicidio en un año

I am sitting here writing this in probably one of the most beautiful places I have ever been.  I don’t know why I felt compelled to write but writing I am. Sitting here overlooking the Mayan Riviera with the warm Caribbean sea splashing onto the shore I am basking in the heat of the early morning sun. God’s fireball is making me squint and moping my brow on frequent occasion.

I have been here for six days and have done the best part of nothing, in my bid to relax I have found rather than now being physically busy my mind is racing, thinking of many things. Faced with such beauty my brain is trying to process all that I can see.

I have been contemplating my life, my triumphs, my disappointments and the way I have come across in my life in certain situations. It surprises me to feel the way I do these days, but a mere 4 years ago I began working for a Harley-Davidson dealer, with all the intentions of being the next big thing, the fame the cover bikes. I got off to a good start but discovered something along the way that changed my perspective on what everybody is calling “the scene”. Its bullshit, choppers are gay, chaps are unacceptable, it’s all done before and to be honest nobody gives a shit.

I can’t “build” bikes anyway, I never could and to a certain extent I probably never will. I have an eye for design and the lines so ’m told and that lets me do my bit, customization is supposed to be fun, even when its biting you in the ass, you look back on it and smile.

It’s crazy really, this year I have rediscovered what I knew all along, Motorcycle riding is about friendship, adventure, pain.  As long as it makes you smile, that’s the whole point, soon as it don’t make you happy no more don’t do it.

The things I have done over the past 12 months have me in the best place I have ever been, the people around me inspire me daily and I feel securely part of something bigger than myself.

We have now moved from Puerto Morelos to Cancun, I can hear my beautiful new wife is stirring, perhaps wondering where I am, with the sea breeze through the door transporting the smell of fresh coffee through our suite it won’t take her long to find me.

The Suicide Jockeys are a year old this week. Crazy shit really, and for the life of me I can’t figure out why I wrote this all down, it really is the ramblings of an idiot. Unicorns rule, tequila is the answer.

Buenos dias mondo.