Road Tripped (Satan's Devils MC Utah #1) - Manda Mellett Page 0,4
had muscles screaming after much more than an hour, so I broke up my journey as Drummer had suggested. Being an all-expenses paid trip, I felt no qualms picking places better than the cheapest dump to stay each night, enjoying a different environment, and being in no rush to get anywhere.
Riding only two or three hours each day, it took me three days to reach Utah.
Away from my brothers and their old ladies, all trying unsuccessfully to help in their own way, I’d enjoyed the solitude. My mind was cleared by wind therapy as I rode, my nights spent eating and drinking alone. Being left to my own devices did indeed give me the space I needed to examine the thoughts in my head.
At first my mind was filled with hate and anger, directed solely at the rider who’d taken one chance too many and had ended my riding career. We raced, pushing our bikes to their top speed, our skills using brake, clutch and gears to take that jump, twist or turn and land safely. Our aim to stay shiny side up, and in front of, or at least clear of, other competitors.
Being top class riders, ours was a close-knit community, seeing the same faces at race after race. Decker hadn’t been a newcomer, but he did have a reputation as a risk taker. As did we all. You didn’t make it to the top without pushing your chances. I don’t know what he’d been thinking, he’d been going too fast for the turn ahead. I’d braked in anticipation, he hadn’t. He clipped my rear wheel and I’d gone down in the dirt, slid over the edge and into a shallow, thank fuck, ravine.
Of course, he’d walked away with only a dented bike and ego, leaving me broken, my bike a wreck wedged on top of me. I’d been knocked unconscious but had seen the pictures. When I got out of the hospital and had saw for myself the twisted metal that had once been my pride possession, I was gutted. Not that it had really mattered, bikes could be replaced, but not, apparently, my riding career and my chance to travel the world and ride in international championships. That first day when I left Tucson in my rearview, all I could think of was how angry I was. Decker was already racing again.
The second day, the sun shone brightly. My eyes were caught by a hawk high up in the cloudless sky. I began to feel some of the ire inside me slip away as, at last, some of the negative feelings eased their grip on me, and I started to find positive ones to focus on instead.
Sure my leg’s busted, but it will get stronger and mend. Not as good as before, but I’ll soon be walking without the aid of a stick again. Even today I woke up to find it was a little steadier and more able to support my weight. I’m still able to ride, just not competitively. It could have been worse, I could be dead.
As the distance from Tucson increased, I felt lighter, and rather than looking back, looked forward instead.
Still unconvinced this is anything other than Drummer wanting to get me and my bad mood away from the club, I resolve if this is a job he really needs done, I’ll do it to the best of my ability. There’s a small burn of pride inside me, knowing he’s trusting me to go to a different chapter as the representative of the mother chapter prez. Despite my shows of temper, he’s trusting me to make a good impression. I hold Drummer in high respect, so I’ll make every endeavour to keep a hold on my temper.
This morning will see me complete the last leg of my journey. I feel refreshed as I wake, ready to take on the world. I settle up at the reception desk of the decent enough hotel I’d found to rest up my leg—I didn’t ask for much—cleanliness, a comfortable bed and a place to park my bike—and this place hadn’t disappointed.
Heading out to my bike, I buckle on the saddlebags and program the GPS. Kicking down into gear, I turn onto the highway, and follow the route the device on my handlebars suggests.
The miles tick down. I’m riding at a steady speed, the predicted time of arrival doesn’t change. As my destination draws closer, twin emotions of expectation and apprehension start to war within me. What