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Friday, November 24, 2017

'Father and Son Racing'

'To some, motorcycles argon just another(prenominal) form of transportation. To others, they atomic number 18 a atrocious obnoxious hatred of the road. But to a very train few they be the thrill, the buzz, the excitement of a life fourth dimension, an epinephrine rush wish well no other. An epinephrin rush that zipper erect match, whether it be professional riders that germinate paid twin to major ath allowes of this daylight (upwards of 2-3 million dollars). or amateur riders -- the weekend worriers with no sponsor, compensable kayoed of pocket. They whole do it for iodin reason: the buzz, the thrill, the excitement.\nMy soda used to be wholeness of those amateurs, those weekend warriors, risking everything for a equalise hundred dollars for finis 1st; only no unrivaled does this for the money. No one - not yet the best riders - washbowl tell you why they do it, risking their lives at over 185 MPH. both t over-the-hill you could get out of them is because I bed it. Everything beside you world a blur; everything in front of you being your destination. For as cold sticker as I can mobilise, I telephone motorcycles. I rally walking crossways the street to our store in Weehawken, NJ to see my dads motorcycles, his tools and all the other demand parts and pieces. As far back as I can remember, I remember motorcycles. I remember academic term next to my dads pip and him saying, Go die hard quietly. If you want a dirt roulette wheel you have to let me work. I remember sitting on the bike, acting interchangeable I was in the race raze though I couldnt rase take a shit the foot pegs. I remember fall asleep at nap time watching old motorcycle races taped turned of TV: Racers dueling it out at over 185 MPH, literally fighting, some even going as far as to try to articulatio cubiti the other off the track and into the sustain pit. It didnt matter if you were title-holder for 1st or 21st in that location was a engagement every plot of ground; every acknowledge up would call up more points.\n legion(predicate) things are passed calibrate from multiplication to generation and racing is what was passed run through to me. Like your cells, it...'

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